After the Duke Zhenguo spoke with Old Madam Ming, Old Madam Ming was so angry she could not sleep for half the night. She devoted her whole heart to this family’s wellbeing, and for her trouble she had made herself into a villain in their eyes — fine, then. Let them do as they pleased. She washed her hands of it — Second Son’s marriage, his career, none of it was her concern anymore.

Old Madam Ming might say so out of pique, but when the day came for Ming Huazhang to appear before the Ministry of Personnel for evaluation, she still could not help pricking up her ears to listen for news from the court. Old Madam Ming had harbored some residual hope in her heart, but when the Ministry of Personnel’s transfer order was issued, that last thread of hope crumbled.

Ming Huazhang had truly gone to the Jing Zhao Office — and moreover, he had been appointed directly as Fourth Rank Deputy Head of the Office, effective at the first day of his official career.

Though Chang’an was the capital, thick with officials at every turn, the Three Departments and Six Ministries on the one hand, and the Jing Zhao Office on the other, were in truth two entirely separate systems.

The Three Departments and Six Ministries drafted imperial edicts and set national policy — they were the central government with authority over the entire realm. The Jing Zhao Office was a regional administrative body. The word “Jing” implied grandeur beyond measure, and “Zhao” connoted a multitude of people — together they conveyed the majestic scale befitting the capital of a great nation. In other provinces, the highest official was titled a Prefectural Governor; but the Jing Zhao Office, being the seat of the imperial capital, was distinguished by naming its chief administrator the Jing Zhaoyiin.

The Deputy Head was the Jing Zhaoyiin’s second-in-command, assisting in managing all affairs great and small across Chang’an and the surrounding twenty-three counties. But serving as a regional official in the capital was no easy thing. The Jing Zhaoyiin had — once again — left his post, and the previous Deputy Head had been elevated to fill the vacancy, leaving the Deputy Head’s position open for Ming Huazhang to take.

It is said that the imperial examinations are daunting, and that scholars who pass them are one in ten thousand — yet scholars who passed and then waited years without receiving any posting were plentiful. For Ming Huazhang to begin at the Fourth Rank was by any measure extraordinarily fortunate. And yet, after the Ministry of Personnel issued his appointment, very few people came to the Duke Zhenguo estate to offer congratulations — which was proof enough that the Jing Zhao Office was truly an exceptional place for attracting blame.

Old Madam Ming was thoroughly disheartened, and had even lost her appetite for attending the palace banquet that was coming up. The Duke Zhenguo estate had no principal wife, and the second and third branches of the family were not of sufficient standing to represent the estate publicly. In the end, it was Ming Huazhang and Ming Huashang, the brother and sister pair, who entered the Great Luminance Palace to attend the banquet.

Autumn was deepening, and Chang’an had grown increasingly cold. Fallen leaves of frost-hued red covered the banks of the Taiye Pond. Ming Huazhang led Ming Huashang across the carpet of fallen leaves and said in a low voice: “Today is a palace family banquet. His Majesty has graciously permitted the new scholars to bring family members inside. In a while, there will likely be many members of the imperial family. Keep your distance from them, and if anything happens, do not act rashly — come and tell me first.”

Ming Huashang nodded. She did not need Ming Huazhang’s reminder — along the way in she had already seen many palanquins and processions. Princesses and County Princesses were visible at every turn, which was enough to indicate the level of this palace banquet. The Empress had graciously allowed the scholars to attend a palace family banquet — first, as a gesture of favor to make this cohort of scholars devoted to her heart and soul, and second, to demonstrate to all under heaven her regard for civil governance. In addition, a number of favored and trusted officials had also been invited.

Ming Huashang noticed the Marquis Jiang’an estate’s group. She scanned the imperial garden and, sure enough, spotted Jiang Ling and Ren Yao standing by the lake in conversation. Ming Huashang was about to go find them, and just then the other scholars came over to exchange pleasantries with Ming Huazhang. Ming Huashang slipped quickly past him and called back: “Second Elder Brother, I can see Elder Sister Ren and Jiang Ling — I am going to find them.”

Ming Huazhang had no time to respond before she was already far away. He felt thoroughly helpless. In her mind, how many people still ranked above him? She was this busy, and could not even spare a few words of greeting?

A fellow examination scholar noticed that Ming Huazhang’s gaze kept drifting backward, and asked: “Elder Brother Ming — that young lady who just left was…”

Ming Huazhang drew his gaze back and sighed: “My younger sister.”

“So that is your younger sister.” The fellow scholar beamed with delight: “Elder Brother Ming is as elegant as willows in the spring moon — yet your younger sister is also a beautiful young woman. May I ask whether your younger sister is engaged?”

Ming Huazhang’s expression cooled noticeably: “She is not. But she has devoted herself to spiritual practice and now serves as a female Daoist practitioner under the Reverend Qingmiao. She has no heart for marriage.”

The fellow scholar gave a soft, surprised sound — his expression made his deep regret abundantly clear. Ming Huashang had no idea that Ming Huazhang was out there dampening her romantic prospects. She ran briskly to the far side of the lake and waved from a distance at the two figures: “Elder Sister Ren, Jiang Ling!”

Jiang Ling turned around and caught sight of Ming Huashang, involuntarily letting out a sound of displeasure: “Why does she have to be everywhere?”

He had only just arrived at the Great Luminance Palace and had barely escaped the obligations of the Marquis Jiang’an estate’s socializing — and he had not even had two full sentences alone with Ren Yao before Ming Huashang appeared.

Unfortunately, human sorrows and joys do not communicate with one another. Ren Yao and Ming Huashang were both very glad to see each other. Ming Huashang hopped right in front of Ren Yao and asked: “Elder Sister Ren, has your official posting come through?”

“It has!” Ren Yao had received the Ministry of War’s transfer order just yesterday and had been looking for Ming Huashang to share her joy — and she had happened to run into her here today of all days. Ren Yao said with excitement: “I finally have an official position — I am to be a Yihui Cavalry Commandant in the Imperial Guard!”

“Really?” Ming Huashang seemed even happier than if it had been her own appointment, and said with a smile: “Wonderful! The Imperial Guard is the Northern Garrison’s Palace Guard — they guard the Xuanwu Gate and are responsible for the security of all gates in the capital and the palace’s night watch. They are the Son of Heaven’s own personal army! Congratulations, Elder Sister Ren!”

The two of them clasped hands and spoke and laughed together, treating Jiang Ling as though he were invisible. Jiang Ling, displeased at being ignored, made a contemptuous sound: “It is only a Seventh Rank Commandant — an appointment about the size of a sesame seed. Is it really worth this much excitement?”

Ming Huashang shot him an exasperated look: “Be quiet. What matters is the post, not the rank. Besides, all things are hardest at the beginning. Elder Sister Ren has her official position at last. The court does have female officials now, but they are almost all attending to His Majesty in the inner palace — in the outer court, especially in the military, there is no precedent whatsoever for a woman to hold office. Elder Sister Ren is the first of her kind under heaven. Can you not say something kind?”

Jiang Ling murmured with a sulky edge: “You are being far too optimistic about all this. It is precisely because there has never been a woman before that it will not be a pleasant place once she gets there. A Commandant is responsible for patrol and night watch — there is not much actual power, but the rules and regulations are endless. Once she enters the Northern Garrison, there is no telling how those battle-worn, seasoned soldiers will make things difficult for her. And you are sitting here like a simpleton, celebrating with her as though you have not a thought in your head.”

Ming Huashang knew perfectly well how hard it would be. A woman entering a domain long monopolized by men would not unfold the way women imagined it — as though she would become everyone’s cherished favorite or be admired by all. Instead, she would be walled off by an invisible barrier no matter where she went, watched and scrutinized everywhere she turned, whispered about and mocked, subjected to crude jokes — and access to anything of real importance would be nearly impossible.

But difficulties did not disappear simply because someone threw cold water on them. Better to let Ren Yao set out on her new journey with a full heart. Ming Huashang said: “Elder Sister Ren, pay him no mind. You have already taken this step, and you have fulfilled the dream of I do not know how many women. From here, you need only keep walking forward. It cannot possibly be any worse than before.”

Ren Yao had already been feeling some apprehension about the uncertain road ahead, but after hearing Ming Huashang’s words, her heart became still and a quiet, growing courage rose within her. She was right — it cannot be any worse than before. She had endured ten years of bitter hardship for the sake of a dream that had seemed unreachably distant. Could the Imperial Guard be harder than those years of training?

She would build something with her own hands and prove to her grandmother, to the Empress, and to all under heaven that she had the ability to inherit the Marquis Pingnan estate. Whatever lay ahead — even a mountain of blades and a sea of fire — she would charge through it. Ren Yao gripped Ming Huashang’s hand with force and said: “Huashang — thank you. If you had not spoken up for me that day at the Hibiscus Garden, I would never have had this chance at all.”

“Elder Sister Ren, you do not need to thank me — this is your own achievement.” Ming Huashang smiled and said: “It is your years of diligent practice, day and night without rest, that let you make a name for yourself on the field. Every bit of this, you earned.”

Ren Yao was deeply moved, but did not know how to express it, and could only hold Ming Huashang tightly. Jiang Ling, watching them thank each other back and forth, felt his teeth ache from the sweetness. He said sourly: “All right, all right — with your ‘elder sisters’ and ‘younger sisters,’ if someone who didn’t know any better heard you, they’d think you two were performing in an opera.”

Ming Huashang had truly reached her limit. She turned around and fixed him with a glare: “Jiang Ling, did you take something foul this morning? Elder Sister Ren and I are talking — what are you going on about?”

Jiang Ling grumbled and muttered for a moment, then said quietly: “All you ever do is talk. Not a single bit of real action.”

By happy coincidence, Ming Huashang’s hearing was particularly sharp today, and she caught every word of it. She gave a cold laugh and asked: “And what real action have you taken?”

Jiang Ling was challenged and momentarily flustered, and said before he could stop himself: “Of course I did something! I…”

Ming Huashang had not heard it clearly and leaned toward him: “What did you say?”

Jiang Ling was embarrassed and barely opened his mouth, saying something indistinct and muffled: “I convinced my father to arrange things so that I also joined the Imperial Guard.”

Jiang Ling said it as if his lips could barely part, and Ren Yao still could not make it out. She frowned and asked: “What on earth did he say?”

Ming Huashang had been close enough to catch every word without missing one. She looked at Jiang Ling with a trace of surprise, then stole a glance at Ren Yao, and seemed to understand something. She smiled, and said to Ren Yao: “I did not catch it either. Go and ask him yourself.”

Ren Yao pressed Jiang Ling for an answer. This time, no matter what she asked, Jiang Ling refused to say. Ming Huashang watched Ren Yao reach out without ceremony and punch Jiang Ling, while Jiang Ling only dodged and never struck back. She said quietly to herself: no wonder.

Such an obvious thing — why had she not noticed until now?

Ming Huashang decided not to stay and intrude on the two of them any further. She noticed Su Xingzhi and Su Yuji standing off to one side, and slipped quietly away.

Ming Huashang moved like a little rabbit on an excursion, trotting up to the Su siblings, and greeted them with a cheerful smile: “Top Scholar Su, Elder Sister Su — may you both be well and safe!”

Su Xingzhi was caught somewhat off guard, but responded with courtesy: “Miss Ming — may you be well.”

Ming Huashang seemed entirely oblivious to the Su siblings’ reserve, and struck up a familiar conversation: “Elder Sister Su — last time at the Hibiscus Garden I was carried off by the elders before I had the chance to say goodbye. Please forgive me for the discourtesy. How have you been of late?”

Su Yuji paused a moment, then quietly reflected — were she and Ming Huashang truly that close? Su Yuji said: “Not bad.”

“That is good to hear.” Ming Huashang’s eyes curved into a smile: “When I got home, I felt guilty about it — I should not have left a woman like you on her own outside. I ought to have had the Duke Zhenguo estate arrange a carriage to take you home. If there is ever anything inconvenient for you in Chang’an, please come and find me. Whatever I can help with, I will. And for things truly beyond me, there is always my Second Elder Brother.”

Su Yuji was not familiar with the customs of the nobility, and was left wondering — did all the daughters of these marquis and duke households extend their hospitality with such warmth? Su Yuji declined with tact: “Thank you, but my elder brother and I are managing well enough. Please do not trouble yourself, Miss Ming.”

Ming Huashang understood. As people who had truly come from a farming family of modest means, when faced with overtures from the privileged, their wariness and caution would outweigh any easy acceptance.

When Ming Huashang went out with Jiang Ling and Ren Yao, she never thought about who paid for what — because all of them came from comparable backgrounds, and treating someone one time was easily returned the next. Money among them was the least worth mentioning. But when dealing with the Su siblings, who came from a genuinely modest household, money was something that concretely affected their daily lives. Ming Huashang could not be equally casual and generous here.

To maintain a healthy and equal relationship between them, the first requirement was to respect the other’s living circumstances.

Ming Huashang did not press her hospitality further, and said: “Elder Sister Su need not be so formal. I am also doing this for myself. My Second Elder Brother is going to the Jing Zhao Office as Deputy Head — a place where the pay is poor, the work is endless, and enemies are easily made. If he should accidentally offend someone, I hope Top Scholar Su can put in a good word for him.”

In truth, Ming Huashang was simply looking for a footing from which the two sides could speak as equals. But Su Xingzhi and Su Yuji, hearing this, both showed expressions of understanding. Ming Huashang’s eyes shifted slightly, and she asked: “By the way — I wonder where Top Scholar Su has been appointed?”

Su Xingzhi assumed Ming Huashang had long since heard news of his posting to the Censorate and had come to cultivate ties with that in mind. He did not call out her feigned ignorance, and said: “By the Emperor’s trust and grace, I have been ordered to the Censorate’s Office of Investigation, to serve as a Surveillance Censor.”

Ming Huashang quietly drew in a breath. A Surveillance Censor in the Office of Investigation! Never mind that it was merely an Eighth Rank Lower official position — its power was far from small.

The Censorate’s function was to oversee and check all officials, and it operated through three offices — the Platform Office, the Hall Office, and the Office of Investigation. Among these, the Office of Investigation was responsible for investigating all the officials and civil servants, inspecting prefectures and counties, examining criminal cases, and disciplining court decorum. A Surveillance Censor’s two primary duties were: first, to monitor the Department of State Affairs and the Six Ministries — and could even attend their meetings as an observer — and second, to be dispatched to prefectures and counties to inspect local governance and official conduct, the hardships of the people, drought and flood disasters. Should corrupt or negligent officials be found, a single memorial from him could go directly to the imperial throne.

It was plain to see that the Empress placed deep trust in Su Xingzhi — this amounted to making him, in plain terms, the ears and eyes of the Empress herself. The more Ming Huashang looked at Su Xingzhi, the more pleased she was. Her own dear elder brother — born poor but with an undiminished spirit, from a humble background, but with limitless prospects ahead of him!

This was a pillar absolutely worth holding close. Ming Huashang smiled and smoothly continued: “So you are a Surveillance Censor — I stand in awe. Top Scholar Su — you have not yet assumed your post, so may I address you as Elder Brother Su for now? My Second Elder Brother’s temperament you know well — he is honest and upright and does not know the first thing about tact. If someone should impeach him in the future, Elder Brother Su must speak a fair word on his behalf.”

Ming Huashang spoke with smiles and laughter, and even her words about forging connections sounded perfectly pleasant. Su Xingzhi thought of Su Yuji’s true identity and found he could not take too hard a line with her family members. He smiled slightly and replied: “Miss Ming flatters me. I serve at the Emperor’s command and will naturally do my utmost and act with impartiality.”

Not an outright refusal — that was a good beginning. Ming Huashang smiled: “I trust Elder Brother Su will be an excellent official. Those flowers over there are blooming beautifully — shall we walk that way?”

Ming Huazhang had only paused to exchange pleasantries with someone for a moment, and Ming Huashang was already nowhere to be found. He first went to ask Jiang Ling and Ren Yao, and was surprised to learn that Ming Huashang was not with them — and that neither of them had noticed where she had gone.

Ming Huazhang’s heart sank sharply. He set off quickly along the path, asking as he went, running through a series of alarming possibilities in his mind. He was on the verge of reporting to the chief steward to drag the lake for her, when he happened to lift his eyes, and across the lake’s surface, he saw inside a waterside pavilion — Ming Huashang, her eyes curved into crescent smiles, deep in pleasant conversation.

And seated across from her was the very person Ming Huazhang least wished to see — Su Xingzhi.

There was in truth a third person, Su Yuji, but Ming Huazhang’s eyes could only take in Ming Huashang’s clear, crystal-bright gaze. She had beautiful apricot-shaped eyes, and when she fixed them sincerely on another person, that gaze was intent and luminous, clear enough to see to the bottom — like a small deer.

He himself had once heard the sound of his own heartbeat while held in that gaze. And yet now he looked on and saw her turn those very same eyes on another man.

This was the second time. The first time, she had promised to go home with him, then turned around and ran to Vermilion Bird Street to watch the top scholar procession — and if he had not been there, she would have thrown her sachet right down; the second time was now, when she said she was going to find friends and had ended up in a private meeting with Su Xingzhi.

Xie Jichuan had been right. She was indeed a sweet-tongued deceiver. She said Second Elder Brother was the one she liked best, said she had no desire to marry any time soon, even said that he was the one and only in her heart. Yet all of it was false. None of it was his alone.

Ming Huashang was in the middle of a delightful conversation — in truth, most of it was between herself and Su Yuji, with Su Xingzhi occasionally joining in with a word or two. Suddenly she sensed, without knowing why, a chill in the air. Ming Huashang turned back, and there was Ming Huazhang — she did not know when he had appeared — standing beneath a crabapple tree in his grey-blue robe, fallen leaves drifting down in golden and frost-red showers around him. He stood among them, and in that moment he was like the bright clarity of the sun and moon entering one’s embrace — and like a jade mountain on the verge of falling.

Ming Huashang was momentarily stunned. It was only when Su Xingzhi rose behind her to offer his greeting that she came back to herself and scrambled to her feet: “Second Elder Brother…”

Ming Huazhang crossed over the scattering of brilliant fallen leaves and walked toward Ming Huashang with slow, unhurried steps. Ming Huashang felt, inexplicably, a wave of pressure bearing down on her — yet Ming Huazhang’s expression remained as clear and open as fair weather, composed and assured. He took hold of Ming Huashang’s hand, and his voice betrayed not a single ripple of emotion: “What brought you here? I searched for you for quite some time.”

Only then did Ming Huashang realize she had slipped off without a word to Ming Huazhang. She looked up at him, and her gaze collided straight into his. His dark eyes were the color of lacquer, deep as a fathomless abyss — and for a reason she could not name, it made Ming Huashang’s heart clench with something like fear.

Yet his voice was so completely calm. Not a trace of blame. Ming Huashang decided it must have been her imagination, and she smiled, slipping back into her familiar, coaxing tone: “Second Elder Brother, you came! I saw you were occupied and assumed you would be caught up in pleasantries for some time, so I just walked along the lake for a bit — and happened to run into Elder Brother Su and Elder Sister Su. Second Elder Brother — Elder Brother Su has been posted to the Censorate, as a Surveillance Censor.”

Ming Huazhang gave a very faint sound in response. In his mind, he thought: she is lying again. Had she paid even the smallest attention to him, she would never have said something as careless as “I assumed you would be caught up in pleasantries for some time.” Her heart was full of Su Xingzhi. And now that Su Xingzhi’s prospects were so bright, she would be even more pleased with him — wouldn’t she?

Ming Huashang had intended to hint to Ming Huazhang that he should use this opportunity to get closer to Su Xingzhi, knowing that with his temperament, going to the Jing Zhao Office without being impeached would be difficult. Yet Ming Huazhang gave a nearly imperceptible nod to Su Xingzhi, his manner bordering on cold indifference, and said: “My younger sister does not know her place — forgive her for the intrusion. I am taking her with me.”

For some reason Su Xingzhi’s response to Ming Huazhang was equally cool: “Think nothing of it — please go wherever you please, Deputy Head Ming.”

Ming Huazhang drew Ming Huashang quietly along and turned to go. When the two were out of earshot, Su Yuji said to Su Xingzhi with puzzlement: “Elder Brother — the Jing Zhao Office may be thankless, but with Ming Huazhang’s abilities, it may well prove to be the whetstone that sharpens him. Making friends with the Deputy Head of the Jing Zhao Office within Chang’an can only be to one’s advantage — why keep your distance from him?”

On the other side, Ming Huashang was asking the very same question. Ming Huazhang seemed to give a quiet laugh and said: “Whether one serves well or poorly is one’s own business. I have no need of my younger sister paving the way for me.”

Ming Huashang was a little displeased and gave him a nudge: “Second Elder Brother — what is that supposed to mean? Are you blaming me for acting on my own and embarrassing you?”

“And what were you intending?” Ming Huazhang’s voice was utterly calm — like a glacier before a volcanic eruption, silent and white and vast, and one touch would set the world ablaze.

“I wanted to help you.” Ming Huashang puckered her lips slightly, feeling quite aggrieved inwardly. “You are about to go to the Jing Zhao Office, which has had fifteen chiefs in ten years — and that is counting the Third Rank Jing Zhaoyiin. Who knows how many Deputy Heads have fallen there. How can you dare to say that when it is your turn, it will be any different?”

Ming Huazhang drew in a quiet breath, reining in reason that was on the verge of breaking free. He said to Ming Huashang with great deliberateness: “Huashang — this is the path I chose for myself. No matter how hard it is, I am willing. Even if my official career came to a complete ruin there, I would accept it. But you are different…”

Ming Huazhang stopped there. Ming Huashang lifted her eyes to look at him. In those clear, bright eyes was a question, plain as day: different how?

Different how, indeed?

Perhaps it was this: he could accept a life of darkness for himself, unacknowledged and unknown. He could accept his ambitions unsatisfied, his life spent in obscurity. But he could not accept losing her.

Even the possibility of it — introduced only as a hypothetical in the recesses of his mind — was enough to make his heart clench with a pain he could not suppress.

But he could not say it. For as long as he remained her elder brother in name, he could not overstep the bounds of that bond. And he did not dare ask her to wait — because even he did not know whether this path had an end.

Yet he still could not help wanting to stake a bet. The Empress had agreed to move the capital. Prince Luling had been installed as Crown Prince. Everything was moving in a good direction. Perhaps, if she could just wait two more years before she was given away in marriage — he might still have a chance.

Ming Huazhang’s heart rose and fell several times. But in the end, every tide surging within was pressed down, and was distilled into one quiet, unremarkable sentence: “Because you are my younger sister.”

Ming Huashang felt something plummet inside her. She came to her senses and laughed at herself. What exactly had she been expecting? Ming Huashang curved her lips into a smile and said: “That is right. Second Elder Brother is such an upright and principled person — whoever is your younger sister, you will care for her and treat her well.”

“And you?”

Ming Huashang felt unsettled and her tone turned cool: “What — do you think I treat you badly?”

“Very well.” Ming Huazhang reached up to pluck a withered leaf drifting in the air, and with light, neat fingers, calm and quiet, folded the veins into crumbling pieces. “You treat every ‘elder brother’ very well.”

Ming Huashang caught herself in the most embarrassing stumble, and without knowing it her earlier boldness had drained away: “You are my one and only Second Elder Brother.”

Ming Huazhang turned his head. His gaze rested on her with an unreadable quality: “Are you certain?”

Ming Huashang nodded without a moment’s hesitation, thinking to herself that Su Xingzhi was the eldest in his family, so she would have to address him as “Eldest Brother” — which meant Second Elder Brother truly was only Ming Huazhang.

Ming Huazhang watched her, and smiled. He said: “Huashang — what if we make an agreement? Never mind what the future holds. But before you become betrothed — you are not permitted to let any other man surpass me. And by the same token, in my heart, you are always first. How about it?”

That sensation of nearness and distance, of something real that might be an illusion, came back again. “First” — was that the kind of thing an elder brother ought to say to a younger sister? Ming Huashang half-jokingly, half-seriously said: “But Second Elder Brother, you will eventually take a wife. How could I possibly be first then?”

“I will keep you company in staying unmarried. There will be no wife.” Ming Huazhang paused briefly, then said without inflection: “Until you change your mind.”

In truth, if Ming Huazhang put the matter forward, the Duke Zhenguo would likely not refuse. But he could not do this. He could not, while his own future remained uncertain, presumptuously tie down another woman’s entire life.

And yet he still could not stop himself from wanting to try his luck. The Empress had consented to the relocation of the capital. Prince Luling had been named Crown Prince. All was moving in the right direction. Perhaps — if she could only wait two more years before her marriage was arranged, he might still have his chance.

Ming Huashang let out a small laugh and affected a spoiled, haughty air: “What if I linger at home indefinitely and never agree to a match — turn into an old spinster — will you support me for a lifetime?”

Ming Huazhang looked into her eyes, and smiled, slow and soft. His gaze was warm and tender; for a moment it felt like the ease of old friends since childhood, and years stretching on without end: “All right.”