Ming Huashang’s face was all bewilderment, her eyes wide and round as a startled deer’s. Seeing such a pronounced reaction from Ming Huashang, Li Huazhang himself was quite puzzled.

He had only confided to Duke Zhenguo his intention to court Ming Huashang, and it was also only the Duke’s opinion he needed to seek. The Duke’s attitude was abundantly clear: children and grandchildren make their own fortune; the affairs of one’s children were theirs to resolve themselves. As long as Ming Huashang was willing, the Duke had no objection.

After that, Li Huazhang had been actively pursuing Ming Huashang. She had resisted at first, even deliberately avoiding him; but after they had spoken openly at the Great Zhao National Temple, the two of them had entered a period of mutual but unspoken understanding. Li Huazhang continued to visit Ming Huashang as an elder brother, and Ming Huashang did not refuse to accompany him on outings; both knew what was implied between them without it being stated, and once their feelings had ripened to the right moment, they could speak of marriage.

At least, that was how Li Huazhang understood it. Ming Huashang had been so warmly enthusiastic today, repeatedly praising his looks before others — did that not prove their feelings had naturally run their course, and that the next step was simply to discuss the wedding?

Or could it be that what Li Huazhang had assumed to be an unspoken mutual agreement — that they were keeping each other’s company with marriage in mind, ever since the Great Zhao National Temple — was not at all how Ming Huashang had understood it?

Li Huazhang’s expression was composed, his gaze dark, not saying a word — just looking steadily at her. Ming Huashang felt her conscience flicker under that gaze, and could not help rubbing her nose. She said quietly, “Is it not too soon to be thinking about a wedding?”

Li Huazhang, seeing she had no intention of taking back her words, looked somewhat more settled, and said, “Very well — whatever you prefer. Whenever you think the time is right.”

Li Huazhang said this, then paused, and could not stop himself from asking, “Do you really have no thoughts at all?”

Ming Huashang felt inwardly helpless. He had presented himself so magnanimously, and she had nearly believed his gracious equanimity was genuine — but a mere two sentences in and he had already given himself away. She knew that if she let this subject continue, Li Huazhang would eventually find some argument to persuade her. She simply pretended not to have heard, and said with lively enthusiasm, “Look — that bird is so adorable. It fell right out of the sky in the middle of flying!”

Her attempt to change the subject was rather clumsy. Li Huazhang sighed inwardly and followed her hand to look at the bird.

Deep into the third month of spring, all of nature stirring back to life, the breeze seemed to be suffused with the pink fragrance of blossoms. The two of them strolled through the garden, their conversation wandering without purpose, roaming freely — and even in silence, a gentle warmth suffused the air around them.

However slowly one walks, a road has its end. The entrance to Ming Huashang’s courtyard lay just ahead, and both of them stopped, as if by unspoken agreement.

Since Li Huazhang had moved out of Duke Zhenguo’s residence and no longer enjoyed the privilege of living as an elder brother in the same household, he had come to realize just how difficult it was to find an occasion to see an unmarried young woman. Not wanting to leave so soon, he made an effort to find something to say: “The case of Steward Feng, Song Yanbo, and the others is going to be retried — but with all the commotion over Liao Yushan’s matter, the Censorate is watching the Capital Prefecture very closely, and the case files will certainly be put under strict scrutiny. When it goes to trial, could you come to observe? That way, if I miss any detail, I won’t have to deal with the Censor’s Tribunal later on — that would be too troublesome.”

Since the Empress’s commendation had arrived, no one dared any longer to reproach Ming Huashang for an unmarried young woman frequenting the Capital Prefecture. Ming Huashang nodded and readily agreed: “Of course.”

Li Huazhang asked, “Has anyone been saying anything unpleasant near your ear lately?”

Ming Huashang shook her head. “No. Don’t worry — I can handle things in the household myself.”

Li Huazhang nodded slowly, feeling somewhat regretful that he could no longer be at the Ming family’s side to keep her company, while also marveling that without him noticing, the peony he had so carefully sheltered had grown, and was now strong enough to face the winds and rains on her own. After hesitating for a few breaths, he asked, “Were you not happy today?”

Ming Huashang was startled for a moment, and instinctively used a look of puzzlement to conceal what she truly felt: “What? Why would you think that? No, I wasn’t.”

Li Huazhang watched her expression closely and saw, with no difficulty, evasion in her eyes. He said with certainty, “It seems you were. Was it that you dislike being around the Crown Prince, Prince Xiang, and the like?”

Ming Huashang lowered her head and, after a pause, said quietly, “No.”

Li Huazhang watched her furry little crown of hair and understood. “Then it was Princess Taiping. What happened — did she do something to make you uncomfortable?”

Ming Huashang lowered her head without speaking. Li Huazhang waited for a long while, and seeing she had no intention of speaking, gave a soft sigh and reached over to gently tousle her hair, then said gravely, “Huashang, I am your elder brother, and I am learning how to be your husband. Your being well and happy is my greatest wish. I don’t want our changed relationship to make you any less happy than before. If you have something weighing on your heart, or if there is something I have not done well, you must tell me promptly. Can you do that?”

Ming Huashang was silent for a moment, then reached out and wrapped her arms around Li Huazhang’s waist. Li Huazhang indulgently drew her in, one hand strong and encompassing, sheltering the back of her head: “I am here. Whatever it is, we face it together — there is always a way. We will work it out.”

Ming Huashang, her face pressed against his shoulder, asked, “Second Brother, if Father or Sister were to do something to you without my knowledge, would you want me to quarrel with them on your behalf?”

“Of course not,” Li Huazhang said at once. “I would never want you to oppose your family for my sake. They are your kin, and whatever they do, there is always a reason behind it. If there is any disagreement, we can discuss it together. As long as it is not a matter of principle, I don’t mind giving ground.”

Ming Huashang blinked hard, pressing back the warmth rising in her eyes, then smiled and looked up at Li Huazhang, saying, “I feel exactly the same way. Don’t be alarmed — I was only speaking hypothetically.”

Li Huazhang studied her expression closely, not fully convinced: “Truly nothing is wrong?”

“Nothing,” Ming Huashang said, her voice bright and lively, with a little pout, “I’m just not quite used to being around those commandery princes and princesses yet. Once I have some time to adjust, I’ll be fine.”

If the dream had been another parallel existence, then Ming Huashang had already died once — and Princess Taiping, or someone among them, had killed her. But even in that moment in the Ming household when she had been exposed to the most treacherous circumstances — not even Duke Zhenguo had ever thought to include her in his plans to protect himself. And yet Li Huazhang, the one in the most danger of all, had stepped forward, and insisted on keeping her in the household.

Her elder brother was a very good person. She knew that if she told him, he would fight to get justice for her, even if it meant severing ties with those who had harmed her. But he had been lying in wait for seventeen years, all for the sake of Crown Prince Zhanghuai, and had finally recovered his identity after all that effort — how could she bear to let him ruin his future prospects for her sake?

Whether Princess Taiping or Prince Xiang, both were of great use to him. Li Huazhang was actually a person who felt things deeply. He had been so distraught when Li Chongrui died — if he were to lose his aunt and his uncle as well, how much pain would that cause him?

Just as Li Huazhang was unwilling to let his own affairs affect her relationship with Duke Zhenguo and Ming Yuji, Ming Huashang did not want him to fall out with his blood relatives over her. And besides, she was not yet dead — what had not happened could be treated as though it had not existed. She would adjust her state of mind as quickly as she could and get along well with his family.

Even if among those people there was her killer.

Li Huazhang watched Ming Huashang’s expression; he was not entirely convinced, but she did not wish to speak of it, and he did not want to compel her. A cool breeze drifted past them both, lifting the hems of their garments. Having been so close to each other just moments ago, they now stood face to face, and Ming Huashang only then felt a wave of embarrassment. She quietly averted her gaze, looked toward the swaying tree shadows beside them, and said softly, “I’ll go in then.”

Li Huazhang paused for a long while, then slowly released the arm around her. Ming Huashang stepped back. Li Huazhang felt his palm empty, and instinctively said, “Wait.”

Ming Huashang looked back and met his gaze directly. Facing those clear and serene eyes of hers, Li Huazhang’s resolve wavered; he hurriedly cast about in his mind for anything else he might say.

With that, he actually did think of something. Ming Huashang sensed the hesitation in Li Huazhang’s expression and asked gently, “What is it?”

Li Huazhang struggled mightily over whether to tell her. She was someone who loved stability so dearly — if she were to learn of his conversation with Princess Taiping, would she worry and dread what was coming? Would she even be unwilling to marry him? After that thought surfaced, Li Huazhang’s heart gave a sharp lurch.

He had actually been hesitating over such a consideration. He could not relinquish the responsibility he felt for his country and his family — yet he selfishly wanted to keep her. If he concealed this from her, what made him any different from people like Prince Linzi, who only sought pleasure without accepting responsibility?

Every step of his life had been defined by the mold of “son of Crown Prince Zhanghuai.” His life contained so many things he “ought” to do, with no room to speak of what he actually wanted. She was the one instance in his life where reason could not restrain impulse — the one person he had thrown everything aside to pursue. Precisely because of that, he could not conceal things from her.

He had no way to change who he was — so when it came to decisions of great weight, he had to tell her. If she chose to leave, he could only respect that.

It was because he had hidden his identity before that a whole series of misunderstandings had followed; Zhao Cai had died by a strange twist of fate, she had fallen gravely ill, and things had nearly come to great disaster. The same mistake, he could not make twice.

Li Huazhang forced his thoughts to stop there, afraid that if he reflected further he would be persuaded by his own selfish desires. He made himself look directly into her eyes, and said, “I have agreed to join forces with Princess Taiping and launch a coup together.”

Ming Huashang heard this and was seized with shock; her instinct was to look around at once. Fortunately, in their effort to spend a little more time together, they had taken the longest and most secluded route possible, and there was no one else nearby. Ming Huashang let out a small, quiet breath of relief, then felt an aftershock of alarm. She quickly took Li Huazhang by the arm and pulled him behind the shade of a tree, dropping her voice very low: “You are out of your mind — how can you say such things out here on an open path?”

Li Huazhang accepted the reprimand meekly, like a student who had done something wrong. Ming Huashang scolded him for a while, and seeing his gentle and guileless expression, could not bring herself to be any harsher; she lowered her voice and asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

Li Huazhang said, “Because I was afraid that if you only found out after marrying me, you would be disappointed in me.”

His tone was quiet, his gaze candid; he laid his own thoughts plainly on the table — he wanted power, he wanted the Li family, and he also wanted her.

Truthful and greedy. Brilliant and foolish.

Ming Huashang was quiet for a long while, then asked, “This is far too dangerous. Can you not give it up?”

Li Huazhang looked at her, his eyes full of conflict — but in the end he shook his head: “I’m sorry. I cannot.”

Ming Huashang sighed. “You won’t even lie to me. If you speak like this, what woman would be willing to marry you and go to her death?”

Li Huazhang heard something in her voice that sounded faintly like relenting, and reached out to take her hand: “I cannot do it, so I cannot promise. I am nowhere near as good as you imagine me to be. But I selfishly hope, still, that in your heart, Ming Huazhang will always remain a man of absolute integrity — upright, capable of anything.”

Li Huazhang tightened his hand around Ming Huashang’s wrist, seeing that she did not resist, and pressed his advantage: “Do you not resent me?”

Ming Huashang let out a helpless sigh and said, “Who else is there to blame but you for being exactly this kind of person? Once upon a time, you indulged me and let me run wild — and now, I suppose I have no choice but to accompany you on this reckless charge toward death.”

Li Huazhang’s eyes lit up at once, and he pulled her into a tight embrace, not even knowing what to say. Ming Huashang let him hold her for a moment, then found that he had no intention of loosening his grip, and could only push gently against his chest, murmuring, “Stand properly first — someone might come out in a moment and see.”

Li Huazhang drew on the lesson of last time and refused to let go, saying overbearingly, “Let them see. Once enough people have seen, you’ll have no choice but to marry me.”

Ming Huashang could hardly believe these words were coming out of Li Huazhang’s mouth. After several unsuccessful attempts to reason with him, she gave up in exasperation and went for his ribs. She remembered from childhood that he had a ticklish spot there — she did not know whether, after all these years, it had faded.

As it turned out, a ticklish spot does not expire. Li Huazhang, caught entirely off guard, laughed and dodged away. Ming Huashang had found what felt like a delightful new game and pursued him relentlessly, until at last he was obliged to catch both of those mischief-making hands and say, “Stop it.”

Ming Huashang silently made a note of this — Li Huazhang is ticklish — then immediately seized the moral high ground and accused him: “Who told you not to listen when I speak.”

Li Huazhang complied without complaint: “You are right, it was entirely my fault. What does Huashang wish to say?”

A look of hesitation crossed Ming Huashang’s face. She swept her eyes around them, dropped her voice very low, and asked, “What is your plan?”

Li Huazhang shook his head with perfect seriousness: “I don’t know.”

Ming Huashang blinked, wondering if she had heard wrong: “What?”

She had imagined that someone as meticulous as Li Huazhang would have things mapped out seven parts complete before coming to talk with her. And here he was telling her he did not know? Ming Huashang was speechless for a moment, then forced out a single sentence: “You haven’t thought any of it through, and you’re announcing it to people already — do you really think this coup can succeed?”

Li Huazhang laughed, took her hand in his with an expression of genuine humility, and said, “I truly do not know how to evade Han Jie’s notice while meeting with all manner of people. I respectfully ask Huashang to instruct me?”

He was humbling himself so completely — Ming Huashang made a show of thinking it over, and then actually began to speak: “Do you remember what Han Jie told us when he was teaching us to disguise ourselves?”

Li Huazhang asked, “What was that?”

Ming Huashang continued, “The best disguise is no disguise at all. The best place to hide something is precisely the place where that thing would naturally appear.”

Li Huazhang looked at her, appearing to be deep in thought. Ming Huashang spoke the rest of her idea: “You are too deliberate in everything you do — whatever you are up to, he will suspect you have an ulterior motive. But I am different. I naturally enjoy eating, drinking, and having a good time — going out frequently won’t arouse suspicion. I can use the pretext of outings and entertainment to summon people, and you can come to escort me; that way, you can find opportunities to communicate with them.”

Li Huazhang’s gaze grew thoughtful. This was indeed a workable method — and thinking further along those lines, the timing of Ming Yuji’s return to the household could also be made use of.

Ming Huashang was not someone who craved social interaction; if she suddenly started inviting people frequently, it would be easy for Han Jie to notice. But if she brought Ming Yuji along, and used the pretext of helping Ming Yuji get to know people to circulate among the various households and factions, the risk of exposure would be greatly reduced.

Li Huazhang’s lips moved slightly, as if on the verge of saying something. Ming Huashang noticed and said, “Are you about to say that bringing Yuji along would be safer?”

She really did know him well. Li Huazhang sighed. “Yes.”

Ming Huashang had known it would come to this. She shot him a glance and said, “Let me say this plainly upfront: this is a matter of wagering one’s life. Whatever happens, you are family — if you are exposed, the Holy One may not necessarily move against you; but all the others would most certainly die. So I will tell Sister honestly about all of this. If she is willing to take the risk, then I will use her name to gather people. If she does not agree, I can only promise not to let it go further — but I will not try to persuade her.”

Every additional person who knew meant doubling the risk of exposure — yet Li Huazhang knew that Ming Huashang would never do anything that harmed her family’s interests in order to help him. This was precisely what he admired and cared for in Huashang. Since he wanted to bring Ming Huashang into his world, he would naturally have to trust her family without reservation. He nodded: “Agreed.”

Ming Huashang raised an eyebrow, growing more doubtful by the moment about the chances of this coup succeeding. She could not help asking, “You trust me that readily?”

Li Huazhang said seriously, “Yes.”

Ming Huashang was struck momentarily speechless, and waved her hand: “All right, off you go. When there is a suitable opportunity, I will speak with her. You go back and think about which people you need to win over — then I’ll find chances to make contact with them.”

Li Huazhang looked at her focused, earnest profile as she worked through the plan, and said from the heart, “Huashang, meeting you is my good fortune. With a wife like this, what more could a man ask for?”

Ming Huashang gave him a sideways glance and said with mock indignation, “Who said I agreed to marry you? I’m tired — I’m going in.”

She said this and stepped around Li Huazhang, walking quickly toward the courtyard gate. She jogged the last part, as though afraid of being caught by someone. But everything behind her remained perfectly quiet. Ming Huashang felt an inexplicable twinge of displeasure.

She had said she was leaving, and he really did not say a single word to stop her?

Using the motion of opening the gate as cover, she sneaked a glance back. From behind her came a soft laugh, and a slightly cool finger flicked her lightly, with the words: “Over here.”

Ming Huashang looked in the other direction, and indeed there was Li Huazhang, hands clasped behind his back, standing just one pace behind her. His eyes held a smile, and he said in an unhurried voice, “Huashang walked away so decisively and without a moment’s hesitation — I thought I was the only one who was reluctant to say goodbye.”

Ming Huashang felt deeply embarrassed. Her ears — what were they good for? He had been following right behind her, and she hadn’t heard a thing? She scrambled to save face and declared, “I wasn’t looking back for you.”

“I know,” Li Huazhang said softly. He reached up and gently pushed her loosened hairpin back into place, then said quietly, “Go in and rest.”