“Ah, the young.”

In a tree-shaded upper gallery, Han Jie watched the whole scene on the training grounds unfold before him. He smoothed the railing, filled with feeling.

That kind of youthful ardor had been far distant from him for a long time now. He did not envy it — but watching these young people in the full radiance of their youth, he couldn’t help the stir in his chest.

His attendant said, “They’ve only just arrived. They don’t know the height of the sky or the depth of the earth — their manner is a bit unruly.”

“What is youth without unruliness?” Han Jie said. “It’s precisely because they don’t know the height of the sky or the depth of the earth that they have the courage to march into the wind carrying a lit torch, to walk a thousand mountains alone.”

The attendant’s brow lifted slightly, catching a hint of something unusual. “General, you seem to think very highly of these young people.”

Han Jie stroked his beard and said, slowly: “After all, they’re the ones I brought back myself. It would be self-deception to say I have no expectations of them whatsoever. Ren Yao is a worthy descendant of the Pingnan Marquis — solid in her foundations, capable of hardship and endurance. What is rarest is that fighting spirit of hers. Though she is a woman, she dares to dream and dares to act; she surpasses those well-born young lords who spend their days at cockfights and horse-racing by no small measure.”

The attendant said, “Miss Ren’s martial arts are excellent — her father’s caliber lives on in her. With proper tempering, she will become a fine blade.”

Han Jie, however, shook his head. “Even the best iron does not necessarily become a useful instrument. Even the finest steel must be hammered a thousand times. She is too rigid and inflexible, not knowing how to adapt. That, in itself, is not necessarily a virtue. On this point, she still falls short of Jiang Ling.”

The attendant was startled. “You mean Marquis Jiang’an’s heir.”

“Yes,” Han Jie said. “He looks careless and idle, a wastrel without talent — but in fact he understands everything. He rides horses and hunts regularly; his stamina is far better than any girl’s. If he had truly wanted to pull free, how could Ming Huashang have held him back? He chose not to leave her behind alone, so he ran the whole thing out beside her at that pace. Given his father’s power and standing, he had no need to do that. This heir, for all his apparent lack of seriousness, is deeply loyal and sincere — he can take a loss and let things go. He holds up under setbacks far better than Ren Yao. He’s good steel.”

The attendant said, “I wouldn’t have expected such a high assessment of the young lord from you, General.”

Han Jie said, “I have no talent or ability myself — I’ve only kept close to the Empress long enough to absorb a little of her art of reading people. As for Marquis Jiang’an — I’ve met him. A man as cunning as a fox, yet this lax with his own son. I’ve heard he took a new wife from the Zhou family — a woman full twelve years his junior. Hardly surprising.”

With a stepmother in the household, a stepfather follows. Marquis Jiang’an had a young and beautiful wife whispering in his ear and a sweet, obedient young son to fuss over him — and then he would look at his eldest son, who studied nothing and caused trouble everywhere, and naturally have little patience left for him.

And the more impatiently he scolded, the less Jiang Ling wanted to improve. If Han Jie had never crossed his path, in a few more years, Jiang Ling really would have become nothing more than a dandy living for pleasure.

The attendant, seeing that Han Jie was in an unusually talkative mood, pressed further. “And the other two, General?”

“The other two?”

“Xie Jichuan of the Chengjun Xie clan’s first line, and Ming Huazhang of the Zhenguo household,” the attendant said. “These two young men — they are also ones whom you personally noticed and recommended to His Majesty.”

“Ah, you mean them.” Han Jie stroked his beard, and this time he paused for a long while before speaking. “In truth, even now, I cannot say for certain whether recommending these two to the Empress was the right thing to do. Both of them have deep and guarded inner lives — Xie Jichuan especially. I cannot read him.”

Han Jie had spent many years at the Emperor’s side, managing the Empress’s eyes and ears, moving fluidly between visible and hidden roles, and maintaining her deepest trust throughout. His ability to read people was considered by none to be in question. Yet now Han Jie was saying he couldn’t read a seventeen-year-old boy?

The attendant was visibly startled, and after a moment laughed softly. “General, you’re teasing.”

Han Jie shook his head and said nothing. He neither argued the point nor let his expression soften. He went on: “Compared to all of the above, Ming Huazhang is the most ideal — the most complete and perfect candidate. He is more resilient and rational than Ren Yao, more intelligent and composed than Jiang Ling, and more emotionally grounded than Xie Jichuan. He has both courage and strategy, accomplishment in both civil and military arts, and keeps justice and reason perfectly balanced. He seems born to lead.”

The attendant was not surprised by this — Ming Huazhang’s abilities were evident to all. Playing along with Han Jie’s tone, he said, “It seems General holds Lieutenant-General Ming in the highest regard. Given time, the Lieutenant-General will surely become your and His Majesty’s right arm and left hand.”

Han Jie laughed, and shook his head slowly. “No. The person I hold in highest regard is not him.”

The attendant was taken aback once more. “What?”

“Ming Huazhang, though perfect, is too perfect — like a gentleman lifted entire from the pages of a book. And yet — the more extreme a thing is, the more it invites its own humiliation. What is overly rigid will break.”

These words were wholly unexpected to the attendant, who couldn’t make sense of them, and asked, “Then who is it that General holds in highest regard?”

Han Jie raised a hand and pointed toward the edge of the training grounds — toward a young woman stumbling slowly away, supported by her elder brother. The attendant followed the gesture and looked, growing more perplexed than ever. “Her?”

Han Jie could hear the dismissal in his tone. It was not the attendant’s fault — many people present today shared that same low estimation, feeling that she had shown some toughness in running the full ten circuits, but that was the whole of it.

In their hearts, they quietly dismissed this delicate, inept young woman who seemed incapable of doing anything right. But great martial skill and great ability, at the end of the day, make only a killing instrument; what Ming Huashang had — her sharp perception, her clarity of mind, her social ease and adaptability, her instinctive understanding of the human heart — was like wild grass: it looked soft, yet it grew unstoppably, bending under any force and rising again, never broken.

That was the quality of a supreme commander who conquers without fighting.

Han Jie’s interest in Ming Huashang had begun as a way to gain leverage over Ming Huazhang — the latter being too difficult to control, and Han Jie had looked toward his family as a means of influence. But once he turned his attention to Ming Huashang, he found himself increasingly impressed, and what he had witnessed today confirmed that his instincts had not been wrong.

This young woman had limitless potential — she was the ideal candidate for an operative in the shadows. The only problem was that she seemed to lack any ambition whatsoever, and Han Jie had yet to figure out how to motivate her.

He kept these thoughts to himself. He simply smiled and said with a mild air, “We’ll see.”

Ming Huazhang helped Ming Huashang back to her room. The moment she crossed the threshold, Ming Huashang collapsed onto the bed, spread-eagled. Ming Huazhang shut the door and stepped out briefly, then returned carrying a bottle of medicine.

Ming Huashang felt a premonition of doom. “Second Elder Brother…”

Ming Huazhang sat on the edge of the bed, pulled the stopper from the bottle, and tipped a measure of medicated oil into his palm. His fingers were even and slender, and touched with the oil they gleamed with a quiet, nameless warmth.

Even more alarming was what he said next — quietly, eyes slightly downcast: “Take your clothes off.”

Ming Huashang was struck dumb. She stared at the line of his profile — cool and fine as carved jade — and truly could not reconcile those words with this brother of hers, so clean and removed from the world. Ming Huazhang seemed to feel the ambiguity in what he’d said and added, “What I mean is — gather your skirts up. I’m going to apply the medicine.”

Ming Huashang couldn’t bring herself to do it. She carefully pulled her legs under her skirt, curling up like a small hen brooding an egg, and said haltingly, “There’s no need — I just need a good sleep.”

Ming Huazhang had said it without thinking twice. But now that Ming Huashang was being so flustered about it, he became increasingly ill at ease as well.

He gave a quiet cough. “You weren’t used to this kind of exertion — running that far when your body isn’t conditioned to it. If you don’t work out the muscles tonight, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow from the pain. There are no maidservants here, and the others can’t very well apply medicine for you.”

Ming Huashang had every intention of suggesting Ren Yao — but on reflection, in the eyes of dragon-and-phoenix twins, would a neighbor girl they’d just met be more trustworthy than their own brother?

Moreover, Ming Huazhang had such a clear and open bearing, so entirely the upright gentleman — when he said “take your clothes off,” he had been so composed and matter-of-fact about it, it was clear he only meant to help his sister improve her circulation and ease the muscle damage. He hadn’t even thought of her as a woman at all. If she kept refusing, would that not reveal her own unsettled mind?

Ming Huashang hesitated, then finally steeled herself and said, in the name of proving she had nothing to be embarrassed about: “All right, thank you, Second Elder Brother.”

She reached for her skirts. Ming Huazhang said at once, “No need to undo anything — just roll up the trouser legs.”

Ming Huashang froze. She looked up and very quickly darted a glance at Ming Huazhang, then said, very quietly, “I know.”

On the surface, Ming Huazhang was entirely calm. But his fingers were drawn absolutely taut. The warmth of the medicated oil seemed to have seeped through the bottle and into him, until even the tips of his ears flushed faintly pink.

When Ming Huazhang had first gone for the medicine, he hadn’t thought much of it. Only now did he feel as though he were sitting on thorns. He had a moment of regretting it — he should have sent Ren Yao.

But they had already come this far. If he left now, the awkwardness would only be worse — as though he had harbored improper intentions toward his sister. Ming Huashang rolled her trouser legs up inch by careful inch, exposing the skin below — smooth and pale as mutton-fat jade. Ming Huazhang pressed his palm hard into his own hand, then raised it with composure and pressed it to Ming Huashang’s leg, his palm meeting her skin.

Both of them felt a strange sensation, but for the sake of maintaining the mutual image of dragon-and-phoenix twins, close and wholehearted in their brotherly and sisterly love, neither of them said a word. Ming Huazhang forcefully turned his attention away from the delicate sensation beneath his fingertips and said, “Brace yourself — this may hurt a little.”

Ming Huashang nodded. She’d run all ten circuits — what was she afraid of? That thought hadn’t finished forming before a deep, aching, buzzing pain shot through her calves, and Ming Huashang let out a loud “ouch.”

“It hurts so much!”

Ming Huazhang said with resignation, “Bear with it. The more it hurts when this pressure point is pressed, the more severely you’ve strained the muscle — which is all the more reason to work it out.”

Ming Huashang quickly found she had no attention left for any other thoughts. She yelped and squirmed, unable to stop herself from trying to kick free. Ming Huazhang missed again and again and finally ran out of patience.

He took hold of Ming Huashang’s waist and lifted her bodily, settling her onto his lap. His other hand gripped her ankle, immobilizing her.

Ming Huashang went still, eyes still wet with involuntary tears, staring at him blankly.

Ming Huazhang paid her no mind. Both his hands circled around her shoulders from behind, pressing carefully and precisely on the pressure points in her calves. His profile was cool and clear, his lashes long as crow feathers, casting a soft, blurred shadow that veiled the expression in his eyes.

But even without seeing them, Ming Huashang knew — his gaze must be focused. As though he were tracing over a clean, elegant piece of calligraphy, reading a solemn and weighty book.

Whatever he did, he was always like this — wholly absorbed.

There was nowhere to hide and no way to escape. Ming Huashang had no choice but to stay trapped in Ming Huazhang’s arms, whimpering with pain. A strand of his hair had come loose, and the end of it drifted against her neck — swaying softly, tickling.

Ming Huashang squirmed, trying to escape the invisible culprit. From behind her came a quiet sigh, like moonlight settling onto snow — full of helpless resignation. “Be still. It will be done soon.”

“It tickles!”

“Hm?”

Ming Huashang twisted with effort and finally caught the end of that offending strand between her fingers. She thrust it in front of Ming Huazhang’s face in righteous indignation: “Look at this hair of yours!”

Ming Huazhang was at a loss. “All right — I’ll apologize on its behalf. Now you can’t go to sleep yet — stand up, and let me stretch out the muscles properly.”

Ming Huashang thought she’d do a little token stretching and call it done, so she climbed lazily onto the bed — only for Ming Huazhang to press her shoulders down without warning. Ming Huashang screamed.

Ming Huashang glared at him with wet, grievance-filled eyes. Why had she ever felt awkward or embarrassed around Ming Huazhang? He simply had no concept of any difference between men and women where she was concerned!

Looking at how pitifully she was weeping, Ming Huazhang, although knowing full well he was doing the right thing, still felt a pang of guilt. He asked, “Does it hurt that badly?”

Ming Huashang answered through tears: “Yes.”

“Then what were you trying to prove,” Ming Huazhang said, his face cold as he stood at the bedside. “I told you — know your limits. You’re not like the others. No one would have blamed you for not finishing the circuits. So why did you insist on being stubborn?”

Ming Huashang lifted her chin proudly. “I didn’t want them to look down on me.”

Ming Huazhang gave a quiet laugh — like a petal caught briefly on a rooftop eave, the moon momentarily soft for just a flash. “You’ve never shown this kind of determination when your tutors in the household tried to teach you music, chess, calligraphy, and painting.”

Ming Huashang kept her lips pressed together for a long while, then said, barely audible as a gnat: “That was different. I know what I am. It doesn’t matter if they look down on me — but I won’t let anyone look down on Second Elder Brother.”

Ming Huazhang blinked, sure he’d misheard. “What did you say?”

“Second Elder Brother is a gentleman in every sense of the word — you hold yourself to a gentleman’s standard in all things. How can I allow you to be talked about badly because of me?”

Ming Huazhang was at a complete loss for words. He had never imagined that Ming Huashang — who seemed so carefree on the surface — had harbored thoughts this quietly careful. He paused a moment, then said, “I don’t care about that. A gentleman’s virtue is a standard one sets for oneself — why should one pay any attention to what others think?”

“But I care.” Ming Huashang simply flopped down onto the bed, unapologetically unreasonable. “I don’t care what you say — my Second Elder Brother is a true gentleman, the best person in this whole world, and I won’t allow anyone to speak ill of you!”

This was thoroughly childish behavior on Ming Huashang’s part — yet as Ming Huazhang watched her, something briefly came undone in him.

He had never considered himself a gentleman, or that he was any special good. Yet Ming Huashang stubbornly held him up as something untouchable. Ming Huazhang looked at her, cheeks puffed in indignation, and for one brief instant a strange blankness came over him. “Why?”

“Because you’re my Second Elder Brother.” Ming Huashang thought of the fact that they shared no blood, and felt a pang of genuine regret — yet she smiled all the same. “When I was small and learning the Four Books, I thought they were impossibly hard — the sort of thing only the heavens could understand. But Second Elder Brother finished memorizing them in no time at all. My tutors praised you for being diligent and gifted. The servants praised you as a true gentleman. Even Grandmother said you were the hope of the Ming family. I thought then — Second Elder Brother is wonderful at everything, quick to learn everything — like a moon in the sky, always clear and bright, lighting the road beneath. Even if I can never reach as high as Second Elder Brother, I hope — that the moon will never fall.”

Ming Huazhang looked down at her in quiet stillness, and said, “That was a child’s misperception. If you met a few more young men, you’d find I’m no different from anyone ordinary.”

“Not at all,” Ming Huashang said stubbornly. “My Second Elder Brother is surely the most accomplished person there is — you simply don’t know your own worth.”

Ming Huazhang gave up arguing with her. Ming Huashang’s reasoning was always like this — entirely her own. He leaned over and drew the bedding up around her, and lightly ran his hand over her loosened hair. “Sleep now. Don’t worry about this afternoon’s class — I’ll ask for leave on your behalf.”

Ming Huashang wavered, saying in a small voice, “Missing class on the very first day — isn’t that a little bad…?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ming Huazhang said. “When you wake up, I’ll help you catch up.”