On the streets of Luoyang, peony blossoms swayed in the breeze, and everywhere one looked, people had come to admire the flowers. Some had traveled ten thousand li just to see Luoyang’s peonies, and for the time being, inns and shops throughout the Divine Capital were packed to capacity.
Ming Huashang sat by the second-floor window, staring somewhat absently at the scene below. Buddhist pagodas rose one after another from the earth like ripples building force, until at the city’s heart they surged skyward and became the imposing Wanxiang Divine Palace — majestic and awe-inspiring. Around the pagodas and along the streets, soft petals drifted in abundance, at once solemn and tender, cold and alive.
While she was lost in thought, the corner of her eye caught a figure moving through the flower shadows, gripping a long spear and treading across a carpet of red blossoms. Ming Huashang quickly waved down toward the street: “Ren Jiejie, up here!”
Ren Yao looked up and saw the girl at the window smiling and waving. She took the stairs two at a time, and by the time she arrived, Ming Huashang had already asked the server to bring tea. Ren Yao noticed and asked, “Have you been waiting long?”
“Not at all.” Ming Huashang smiled. “The crowds are thick these days, and I was afraid there’d be no seats — I came early. Fortunately I know the innkeeper here, or I’d never have secured a table on the second floor. Their purple-shoot tea is brewed exceptionally well; give it a taste.”
Ren Yao had no interest in refined niceties. She set her long spear against the table’s edge, sat down across from Ming Huashang with the ease of someone claiming a throne, and drained her teacup in a single gulp. She couldn’t honestly tell that the tea was anything special, but still said, “Good tea.”
Ming Huashang paid no mind to Ren Yao’s manner. Her gaze swept over the spear and traveling pack at Ren Yao’s side, and after a brief pause she asked, “Ren Jiejie, you’re planning to…?”
Ren Yao made no effort to conceal anything. “The Empress is moving the capital back to Chang’an. The timing works out well — I’ve long since had my fill of Luoyang. I intend to go to Chang’an and seek out renowned masters to study martial arts, and carry forward my late father’s ambitions.”
Ming Huashang raised an eyebrow. She certainly admired Ren Yao’s courage, but still couldn’t help asking, “Does the Old Madam agree?”
Ren Yao fell silent. One look at her expression told Ming Huashang the answer was absolutely not. Ming Huashang sighed. “Ren Jiejie, personally speaking, I support you completely and genuinely hope you’ll inherit the Pingnan Marquis estate. But speaking as your junior, I must remind you — you’re the only family the Old Madam has left. Whatever must be said, say it properly.”
Ren Yao sighed. A petal drifted down onto the table; she crushed it between her fingers and said, “I appreciate your good intentions, but this isn’t the kind of thing that can be resolved with a conversation. Grandmother wants to marry me off — once I’m wed, she’ll submit a memorial requesting that my illegitimate uncle be enfeoffed as the Pingnan Marquis. If I don’t fight back now, am I supposed to wait until I’m in my husband’s household and protest by starving myself?”
Ming Huashang said nothing. Ren Yao refilled her cup and drained it again in one go, then said, “Just yesterday I had another quarrel with Grandmother. She punished me by making me kneel in the ancestral hall, told me to face my father’s and brother’s memorial tablets, and said I wasn’t to come out until I’d thought things through. I thought it over all night, and I still believe I’m not in the wrong.”
“I have a name — I’m called Ren Yao. I am not ‘so-and-so’s wife,’ nor am I ‘so-and-so’s mother.’ Men are free to do as they please — why should I be any different? So I left her a letter and slipped out. Marriage holds no appeal for me whatsoever. If I end up too old and no one will have me, I’d consider that a blessing.”
Ming Huashang exhaled softly and patted Ren Yao’s hand. “Since you’ve made up your mind, I support you without reservation. If you ever need anything inconvenient to handle, just tell me and I’ll—”
She paused mid-sentence, because she’d suddenly remembered that she was about to be taken by Ming Huazhang to a secret training base. If Ren Yao needed to reach her, how would she even make contact?
With that thought, Ming Huashang found it a little too convenient — she was heading to Chang’an to “enter a Daoist nunnery,” and at this very moment Ren Yao was running away from home. Wasn’t this just a bit too…
Coincidental?
Ming Huashang was sorely tempted to probe whether Ren Yao had received some kind of orders, but Ming Huazhang had explicitly told her not to reveal anything about her own movements. She could only ask obliquely: “Ren Jiejie, do you have a plan yet for what you’ll do in Chang’an?”
Ren Yao answered without hesitation: “Chang’an is full of hidden tigers and crouching dragons. I intend to seek out every renowned martial arts master and challenge them one by one. Once my skills are solid enough, I’ll sit for the military examinations. If I fail once, I’ll try again — I refuse to believe there’s no path in this world for someone like me.”
Her ambitions were lofty, and her plan seemed reasonably laid out. Ming Huashang’s suspicions wavered. Unwilling to let it go, she probed again: “The military examinations are open to people across the land, but no woman has ever participated. What made you think of sitting for them, Ren Jiejie?”
“An old acquaintance of my father’s gave me the idea,” Ren Yao said. “He’ll handle the registration. There’s always a road before the mountains — when the time comes, a solution will present itself.”
Ming Huashang pursed her lips. Could it be that she had guessed wrong? Had the Kui Family assessment determined that she alone deserved to pass, precisely because her contribution was the greatest?
How embarrassing that would be. Ming Huashang felt a surge of guilt toward Ren Yao and Jiang Ling. She’d assumed that those in power would always prefer more hands — that was precisely why she’d boldly proposed the strategy of cooperating for mutual gain.
She hadn’t anticipated that, in the end, she’d advanced at the cost of her teammates.
With Ren Yao right there, Ming Huashang couldn’t bring up the fact that she had officially become a member of the Xuan Xiaowei and was about to depart for Chang’an on assignment. Ren Yao had already been eliminated; to mention it now in her presence would be twisting the knife.
Ming Huashang said nothing of the mission, and smiled at Ren Yao instead. “Very well, Ren Jiejie — take good care of yourself on the road. After the capital moves, I’ll be able to see you in Chang’an.”
The words made Ming Huashang’s conscience twinge terribly, but fortunately Ren Yao simply gave a hearty affirmative without pressing for a specific time to meet. A wave of melancholy washed over Ming Huashang; she turned to gaze at Luoyang through the window and murmured, “Everyone says Chang’an is wonderful, but I find I’ll truly miss Luoyang.”
Ren Yao sighed as well. Ming Huashang knew they would likely have little chance to meet again in the future. Not wanting the farewell to turn somber, she smiled and said, “Oh, by the way — the Su Family I asked you to look into, Ren Jiejie. Have you turned anything up?”
At the mention of it, Ren Yao remembered. “I nearly forgot — I came today precisely to tell you about this. After you entrusted me with the matter last time, I sent people back to Taiyuan Prefecture for a thorough investigation. After a long search, they did find a woman surnamed Su — a former bondservant of the Wang household who had retired to her hometown in her old age. However, Nanny Su has already passed away.”
“She’s dead?” Ming Huashang was taken completely aback. “When?”
“Two years ago.”
Ming Huashang clenched her hands. She had imagined many possibilities, but not that by the time she found Nanny Su, the woman would already be gone. “What about her family?” she asked.
“She had only one son, but both he and his wife were short-lived — they both predeceased her. In her final years she lived with just her grandson and granddaughter. Two years ago she caught typhoid fever and didn’t pull through. Her grandson arranged her funeral, and afterward the family moved away. No one in the village knows where they went.”
Ming Huashang’s brow furrowed tightly. If she guessed correctly, that pair of grandchildren were her true elder brother and the true daughter of the Zhenguo household. She had originally hoped to ask Nanny Su in person about what had happened all those years ago — and yet she had still arrived one step too late.
Nanny Su was dead, and her only two remaining kin had vanished without a trace. Where was Ming Huashang to look for any account of what had transpired the night Wang Yulan gave birth at Zhongnan Villa?
Refusing to give up, she asked, “Why was Nanny Su’s family so thin in numbers?”
Nanny Su had died of illness. Her son and daughter-in-law were short-lived. Even the grandchildren had since moved away. Was this coincidence — or was it engineered?
Ren Yao replied, “Nanny Su spent her youth in service to the Wang household and was rarely home, so she and her family had little time together, and managed only one son. However, villagers say she had accumulated a considerable sum of money — not only had she rebuilt the entire house from top to bottom, she even had enough left over to fund her grandson’s education. They had long since stopped working the land themselves, leasing their fields to others, and the family lived very comfortably.”
“How much did the house cost?”
“The Su family never said, but going by the neighbors’ estimates—” Ren Yao held up five fingers. “At least this much.”
Ming Huashang raised an eyebrow. “Five strings of cash? That’s certainly a healthy sum.”
“And more beyond that — the house was only what could be seen. There was much that couldn’t be. The neighbors say the family spent lavishly on their grandson’s education, but that was one thing — it was that they were also educating their granddaughter that truly set tongues wagging. Every month alone, the cost of brush, ink, paper, and inkstones was said to be immense. Everyone in the village remarked that Nanny Su was raising her granddaughter like a young lady of quality, intending to send her into a noble household. The way they saw it, with one grandchild succeeding in the imperial examinations and another placed in a great family — as wife or concubine — the Su family might well transform their standing entirely and become an official’s household.”
Ming Huashang murmured an acknowledgment. It was true that serving in a wealthy household paid far better than farming — a single reward from one’s mistress might cover an entire year of toil, to say nothing of the fact that Nanny Su’s son and daughter-in-law had once managed Wang Yulan’s properties on her behalf. She could believe Nanny Su had saved enough to build a house. But a steady, flowing stream of money continuing afterward — spending freely, year after year — that she found harder to accept.
What mountain could withstand idleness? How could they be so free with their spending?
When Ren Yao finished speaking, she noticed Ming Huashang’s expression had turned deeply pensive and asked, “Huashang, why are you so concerned about the Su family?”
Ming Huashang’s eyes shifted slightly, and she smiled. “Nothing particular. Nanny Su was my mother’s wet nurse — she retired to her hometown many years ago, and I just wanted to know how she’d been getting on.”
Ren Yao suspected nothing. “Then you can set your mind at ease — they’ve been doing very well. If the Su grandson has any luck to him, you might even run into him in Chang’an one day.”
Ming Huashang curved her lips into a faint smile.
As the two of them sat talking, a thunderous voice erupted from below: “Ming Huashang! Ren Yao! Is that you two?”
Both of them looked down at once. Not far away stood a familiar figure — flashily dressed, gleaming with gold-and-glitter finery.
That get-up, that swagger — within the entire Divine Capital, there was no one else it could be but Jiang Ling, the great dandy of the city.
Before Ming Huashang or Ren Yao could say a word, he had already come crashing up the stairs and planted himself at their table with the confidence of a man who had been personally invited, not the slightest awareness that he’d come uninvited: “You found out I was in the area and waited for me here on purpose, didn’t you?”
Ren Yao gave a cold laugh. Ming Huashang was caught thoroughly speechless, and could only say delicately, “Ren Jiejie and I are having tea.”
“You ordered a whole pot of tea just to wait for me.” Jiang Ling’s expression grew even more moved. “I’m only going to Chang’an for a few days — I’ll be back eventually. You don’t have to miss me this much.”
Evidently Jiang Ling had gotten a few things wrong, but Ming Huashang didn’t bother correcting him. Because she had caught another important point.
“You’re going to Chang’an too?”
“Of course.” Jiang Ling looked puzzled. “News about my whereabouts travels so fast around the capital that it’s already spread this far?”
“You’re overthinking it,” Ren Yao said coolly. “I’m the one going to Chang’an — to study martial arts.”
Ming Huashang inwardly tacked on a silent addition: and so am I. That strange feeling rose in her again. “What are you going to Chang’an for?” she asked.
“Taking care of some business for my father.” Jiang Ling said. “The palaces in Chang’an have stood empty for too long, and Princess Taiping is worried there’ll be nowhere fit to live after the capital moves. She asked my father to go oversee the renovations of the princess’s residence and the suburban imperial retreats. My father’s official duties keep him here, so he’s sending me to keep watch.”
In truth, he was going only nominally. The purchasing agents and overseers were all professionals — Jiang Ling just needed to show up at the end and collect the credit.
Since the Empress had decreed the return of the capital, all the great families of Luoyang had been sending people to Chang’an to acquire properties and carry out renovations. Jiang Ling riding on his family’s coattails to go to Chang’an and live a life of pleasure — that was plausible enough. Ming Huashang glanced around and, seeing no one nearby paying attention, lowered her voice and asked, “After the Kui Family case concluded a while back — did General Han ever seek any of you out?”
Ren Yao shook her head. Jiang Ling let out a dismissive “No.” Ming Huashang met their frank, open eyes and felt her guilt deepen.
It truly was a terrible thing — they had all gone through the same assessment, yet only she had passed, and on top of that she had to keep them in the dark because of her mission. When she got back, she’d skip a meal in penance.
Out of guilt, when the bill came, Ming Huashang moved to pay. But Ren Yao and Jiang Ling both grabbed for it as well. The server, finally at his limit, smiled and said, “How about this — the three guests continue chatting, and I’ll come back shortly?”
In the end, they settled the fierce billing dispute by drawing fingers in a game of rock-paper-scissors. Jiang Ling paid. The three of them walked out of the teahouse, and Ming Huashang now found herself looking at Jiang Ling with genuine warmth — reluctant to part. “Then, until we meet again.”
Ren Yao gripped her long spear, clasped her hands in salute: “Until we meet again.”
Jiang Ling felt genuinely moved. He knew it — he had said all along they’d miss him, and they were still too proud to admit it.
The three of them bid farewell and went their separate ways. Even as Ming Huashang set out on the road with Ming Huazhang, her heart was laced with sorrow.
Because Ming Huashang was nominally going to “enter a Daoist nunnery,” she brought no maidservants and departed the Divine Capital alone. Zhao Cai, Jin Bao, Jixiang, and Ruyi had all cried for several days in a row. Ming Huashang herself thought they were being entirely overdramatic — she had two perfectly functioning hands and two perfectly functioning feet; she was more than capable of fending for herself. What was there to worry about?
That confidence lasted exactly a quarter of an hour into climbing Zhongnan Mountain, at which point it collapsed entirely.
“A’Xiong.” Ming Huashang said mournfully, “We’re not actually going to have to climb all the way up, are we?”
Ming Huazhang replied in an even tone: “What else?”
Ming Huashang was rendered speechless. She’d assumed there would at least be a carriage.
The entire journey had been arranged by Ming Huazhang. The Ming family carriage had stopped at the foot of Zhongnan Mountain and gone no further. Ming Huashang had told herself that her second elder brother was all stern words and a gentle heart — he’d never truly put her through it. They were only making a show for the benefit of the Ming household servants; once they turned a corner, there would surely be another carriage waiting. She had been entirely unprepared for Ming Huazhang to mean every word.
Ming Huashang, who could walk when walking was available and would never run, who would lounge when lounging was possible and would never stand — had never experienced anything so brutally demanding. The “deep mountain wilderness” Ming Huazhang had described was no exaggeration at all. They truly were in a ravine in the hills, where there was no proper road — only a winding goat trail pressed out by footsteps.
Ming Huashang lost count of how long they walked. At last, they cut through a narrow gorge and the vista opened up before them.
At the center stood a sweeping complex of buildings and halls, encircled on all sides by dense forest, with springs babbling between the crags. Sheer cliffs and precipices rose all around, like a paradise beyond the mortal world. The scenery was breathtaking.
But breathtaking felt like an understatement — Ming Huashang looked furtively around and began to suspect there might be bears here.
Ming Huazhang presented his identity token. Only then did the sentinels in the watchtower lower the drawbridge and render a salute. As Ming Huazhang led Ming Huashang across the rope bridge, he said, “Take a good look while you still can. Once you’re through those gates, leaving won’t be easy. Departing without a token is treated as treason — arrows will be released.”
Ming Huashang’s breathing snagged. For one split second she nearly said: could she take it back?
Would she be shot on the spot?
The gate closed slowly behind her. Ming Huazhang looked back, saw her dejected expression, and smiled. “I half expected you to lose your nerve.”
Ming Huashang had no desire to respond. She had lost her nerve — she simply hadn’t dared to say so.
Ming Huashang had been half expecting to find herself dumped in some wilderness hovel by her brother, but once inside, she discovered the environment was unexpectedly fine. Water pavilions and garden alcoves abounded in every direction. If it weren’t for Han Jie standing right there in the forecourt, Ming Huashang might have mistaken this for the private retreat of some princess or royal heir.
Han Jie smiled as he looked Ming Huashang over, then walked up to Ming Huazhang and clasped his hands in salute. “Congratulations, Lieutenant-General Ming — only sixteen and already elevated to the Heaven-character rank. A young talent, truly one to look up to.”
Ming Huazhang returned the salute with a light nod, not particularly thinking there was anything to congratulate. Then Han Jie turned to Ming Huashang with a genial smile. “Second Young Miss has come as well — I thought I might not get the chance to see you. I heard you achieved great merit on your last mission. Truly worthy of being the twin sister of Lieutenant-General Ming — exceptional in every way!”
Ming Huashang forced out a smile. “General Han is too kind — I don’t hold a candle to my brother, not even in ten thousand parts.”
Han Jie smiled and said, without confirming or denying, “Come, everyone else has already gathered — we’re only waiting for you two.”
Ming Huashang immediately felt a nervous flutter, knowing that this meant she was about to meet the other undercover operatives of the Xuan Xiaowei. She quietly smoothed her clothing — only to despair, because her legs had given out on her and she had walked like a dog dragging itself home; her clothes were badly wrinkled on top of everything else.
Ming Huashang was still furtively brushing mud off her sleeve when Han Jie pushed open the door in front of them. On reflex she looked up — and met the gaze of whoever was inside.
Ming Huashang’s hand froze. Her eyes went very wide. The person inside, on seeing her, wore an equally startled expression, cycling through surprise, astonishment, and awkwardness in rapid succession.
Han Jie turned around. “What are you standing there for? Find somewhere to sit.”
Ming Huashang instantly forgot all about the mud on her sleeve. She walked into the room with a blank expression, sat down, and fixed a hard stare on the person opposite: “What a coincidence.”
Jiang Ling let out a sheepish laugh. “Indeed. What a coincidence.”
And so it was that the two people who had supposedly been going to Chang’an to study martial arts and oversee renovations for Princess Taiping were instead found sitting in the Xuan Xiaowei’s secret mountain base. The three of them stared at each other, all equally embarrassed.
Xie Jichuan was leaning on one cheek in his seat at the second position on the left, observing with great amusement. “Honestly? You didn’t know about each other? And you call yourselves friends — not even this much trust and candor between you?”
Ming Huashang felt that remark land squarely in her chest. So much for all her guilt — it turned out that the day at the teahouse, both of them had been performing for her benefit.
Ming Huazhang and Han Jie walked to the front of the room. Ming Huazhang gestured: “General Han, please take the seat of honor.”
“No, no.” Han Jie demurred. “You’re their commanding officer — that seat is naturally yours.”
“Your rank surpasses mine, General.”
“Once you pass the imperial examinations, that may no longer be true.”
The two exchanged polite refusals for a short while before Ming Huazhang finally took the first seat on the left side, and Han Jie sat across from him. Ming Huazhang’s eyes were calm and clear. He said, “Congratulations. You have passed the first trial. For a member of the Xuan Xiaowei, secrecy is the paramount virtue. Not only with friends — even before family, even beside a bedfellow, your whereabouts may never be revealed.”