Shao Yao couldn’t sit still. Seeing the two of them talk in their unhurried, measured way, she simply slipped off to find Xiao Liu.

In the mist curling up from the tea, Hua Zhi raised her head. Her eyes carried a visible smile. “How do you suppose Yang Qi will convince Yang Zheng that he really did write the letter of release?”

“Yang Zheng will ultimately believe him. In this matter, lying would serve Yang Qi no purpose — but he’ll hold on to his doubts. Men who occupy positions of power are rarely without suspicion.”

“Then let him suspect. He can hardly come to ask me whether Yang Qi truly wrote it himself.”

Gu Yan Xi loved this side of Hua Zhi — a boldness that could only be called audacious. “Yang Qi suffered such a significant loss. He won’t simply do nothing.”

“I recall you once told me Wang Rong is careful to a fault — never leaves any marks behind.”

“Of course. Wang Rong started out in the punishment hall. What he is most skilled in is precisely those methods.”

“Then whatever Yang Qi does — what does it have to do with me? Establishing a person’s guilt requires evidence. Does he have any? And if he tries to make an issue of my little aunt not returning to the Yang household…” Hua Zhi blinked, a crafty gleam in her eyes. “Who in the capital doesn’t know he beat my little aunt half to death with bruises all over? My Hua Family dotes on its people. I won’t send someone back to be beaten. What can anyone possibly say about that?”

So she had truly planned for every contingency. The corners of Gu Yan Xi’s eyes softened with a smile. This was a woman with more than enough ability to protect herself.

Leaving the Hua residence, Gu Yan Xi did not go to the palace. Instead he made his way north toward the city.

Hualin Lane was now home to only one family, and it felt noticeably quieter for it. Gu Yan Xi tilted his head back to look at the Hua Family gate plaque, and as he thought of the chaos of the day the household had been searched and seized, a belated ache rose in him. If he had known Hua Zhi earlier. If he had known sooner that he would love someone this deeply, down to his very bones, he would never have allowed the Hua Family to suffer such a calamity no matter what.

And yet, as Hua Zhi herself had said — if the Hua Family had come through unscathed, she would likely have become the Shen Family’s daughter-in-law by the fifth month of this year. Thinking of it that way, the Hua Family’s misfortune had, in a sense, been fortunate for him.

He pressed that dark thought deep down and paid no mind to the official seals as he vaulted over the wall. Drawing on his familiarity with the layouts of residences throughout the capital and each household’s living habits, it took him no great effort to locate Hua Zhi’s courtyard.

The courtyard was somewhat in disarray, but stepping inside the room was unexpectedly tidy. Dust had settled on the furniture, as though the mistress had merely gone on a long journey and not yet returned.

Gu Yan Xi drank in the sight of this place where Hua Zhi had lived for so many years, imagining her here — reading, laughing, painting, or poring over recipes with Fu Dong. She always had a way of living well, no matter the circumstances.

Surely, in the peaceful days the Hua Family had once known, she had truly been the untroubled eldest daughter of the household, ears deaf to the world outside her walls.

He looked around. With no indecent impulse to rifle through her private things, he only bent to pick up a handkerchief left behind on the bed and tucked it into his breast pocket. His eye fell on the wooden chess board on the cabinet, its edges worn smooth with years of use. He walked over, ran his fingers over it for a moment, then found the chess case and inspected it — a few pieces seemed to be missing, but if an old familiar thing like this could be returned to its owner’s hands, surely Hua Zhi would be pleased.

Gu Yan Xi made another round of the room before taking his things and moving to the right-side annex.

That room faced the sun. Tea leaves needed to be kept somewhere dry — it must be there.

As expected, he found the tea leaves in tightly sealed large canisters without much searching. A sweep of his eyes revealed six large canisters in all.

He clapped his hands twice. Two men entered from outside. He carried two canisters out himself; the two men understood and brought out the remaining four.

Just as he was about to leave, he remembered something and made his way to the left-side annex. He had once gone with Fu Dong to collect things from there, and had a rough sense of how she organized her stores.

Sure enough, the moment he stepped in, all manner of smells hit him — sour above all else.

He shifted the stone weights off the large crocks, and a pungent, sour, spicy aroma wafted up. From the smell alone he knew it was spicy pickled cabbage. He swallowed, reached in, pulled out half a head, tore off a small piece, and put it in his mouth. Good — not only was it not spoiled, the taste was excellent.

His imperial uncle had not been eating well lately, and always needed something like this to finish even a bowl of rice. His grandmother was also very fond of it. He hadn’t liked to keep asking Hua Zhi for it — having a supply of his own, he could make the request more comfortably.

Not wanting to risk losing the flavor by opening them, he simply had his men take all the remaining crocks away without looking inside.

He was a bit mischievous about it — without a word of advance notice, he had everything placed in the annex off the front courtyard. The maidservant Lan Qiao, who had taken over the cooking from Fu Dong, went in early in the morning to fetch something, saw all those unfamiliar things that had appeared, and got quite a fright. But having followed Hua Zhi for many years, she had her nerve about her. She covered her astonishment and told no one, striding quickly to the rear courtyard to report the matter to the young mistress.

After Hua Zhi established what exactly had appeared, she had a fairly good idea of who was responsible. She spoke in a mild, soothing tone: “No matter — use what can be used.”

Lan Qiao had, after all, followed Hua Zhi long enough. Once she’d calmed down, she began to piece things together. Those large crocks and jars were far too familiar-looking, and she couldn’t help thinking a little too much — but however much she thought, she mustn’t say a word.

She acknowledged the instruction and went back to open one of the crocks. When she saw the pickled long beans inside, she lit up with delight — finely sliced and tossed in dressing, they were perfect alongside porridge. And the flavor was so much better than anything they’d made fresh.

Hua Zhi went to the annex and ran her hand along those crocks and jars she’d used for years, the corners of her mouth curving upward. Her mood lifted considerably.

Yingchun was a little worried. “Young mistress, is this quite alright? If anyone were to find out…”

“Are the words ‘Hua Household Old Residence’ carved on the outside? These things are so heavy — is someone going to say I carried them here myself?” Hua Zhi shook off all responsibility with perfect ease. She hadn’t even acknowledged the business with Yang Qi, let alone claim ownership of things she hadn’t personally fetched.

Yingchun suddenly turned her head and called out, “Master Lu.”

Hua Zhi turned. She patted one of the large crocks. “What made you think to bring these along as well?”

“Naturally because I have a request. Give me a share — both my grandmother and imperial uncle are fond of this.”

“Sounds like someone thinks the pickled cabbage here is some kind of rare delicacy.” Hua Zhi laughed. “Baoxia, pack some up and send it over to Fu Dong — she’ll be pleased. And pack a little for Master Lu. Just a little.”

Baoxia covered her mouth to hide a smile and agreed.

Outside, Hua Zhi explained, “This kind of thing goes off faster once it’s open. After you take it back, chill it on ice a little — it’ll keep for a few days that way. But the flavor is best when it stays in the large crock, so come back for a fresh portion every few days.”

Gu Yan Xi replied in a softened tone. He knew better than anyone — when Hua Zhi chose to explain something to him, it was proof that she had placed him in her heart. Those she didn’t care for she wouldn’t bother with; she’d let them think whatever they liked and pay no attention.

“Speaking of which, when we go north this year, it might be worth teaching the servants there this method and having them prepare some — not to eat every day, but as a side dish it’s more than good enough. And the tea — grandfather is fond of it, but the leaves crumble too easily and couldn’t survive that long a journey. I’ll need to think of a way to bring some along for him.”