Zhù Ying had always been generous with those under her command, but she had not anticipated that Liu Yan would lend her official robes to her elder sister to lay before her memorial tablet first. As a result, Liu Yan had only her own robes to wear — she offered them before her sister’s spirit tablet for a brief moment, then had to take them back and put them on herself.

Liu Yan dressed in her official robes and stood before a large mirror, turning left and right, unable to get enough of the sight. She called a maidservant to bring paper and brush, mixed ink and pigments, and painted a portrait of herself in her new official robes, using the mirror as her guide.

The image of herself in official robes was not as delicate and lovely as when she was adorned with jade and pearls, yet Liu Yan was deeply pleased by it. Before she could add an inscription, Liu Ao sent a maidservant over to ask her to come for tea. Liu Yan glanced at the portrait, gave a small smile, and said, “Coming.”

In Liu Ao’s main chamber, tea and refreshments were already laid out. The three women enjoyed treatment that was considered quite good within the administration, though their duties were also very heavy. Receiving their official appointments was a momentous occasion, and the aunt and nieces finally had a rare moment of leisure.

Once seated, all three shared a knowing smile.

None of the three had lucrative positions, but by the court’s standards they could just about be considered “respectable and distinguished,” which also suited their backgrounds. Zhù Ying had provided additional subsidies to all three, so their lives were quite comfortable. The outward luxury was not what it had been in the past, of course — but that had been shared across an entire family, and whatever fell to an individual was inevitably subject to all manner of restrictions. Nothing compared to the freedom they enjoyed now.

The three had gathered together for two reasons. First, they needed to plan a banquet to host Zhù Ying, and then also entertain their colleagues — this was something they had absorbed by observation since childhood and came naturally to them.

The second matter concerned their future plans.

Liu Ao thought in longer terms. She had called her two nieces together precisely to plan their future career paths. Back in their family, everything they had heard and seen was oriented toward planning husbands’ and sons’ official careers. Now they had to turn all of that knowledge toward considering their own careers — it was such an abrupt reversal that all three felt a little flustered. When analyzing others, they could speak with perfect clarity; when speaking of themselves, they became hesitant.

The tea was brewed, the refreshments were laid out.

Liu Ao spoke first: “The Deputy Military Governor is about to return, and we now hold positions in Nan’an as well. We ought to think about how to conduct ourselves going forward.

As things stand now, this could be considered stable — Nan’an’s institutions are still being built from the ground up, and our efforts are needed here. But once everything takes initial shape, we will no longer be indispensable. Resting on what little merit we have now and relying on our ancestors’ goodwill to live out our days in prosperity would be meaningless — it would only make us followers of our forebears’ legacy, nothing more than scholars with a good name and an easy life.

In these days of observation, I have noticed that Nan’an’s military commands are just as rigorous as those of the court — they train troops and must build everything from the ground up. Our only advantage over others is that we can read military texts; we cannot claim that thousands of lives resting in our hands would allow us to achieve great military merit. In my view, positions dealing directly with the people would suit us better.

However, how we conduct ourselves still requires further deliberation. Nan’an now has a Deputy Military Governor — when one place has both a principal administrator and a designated successor, that in itself becomes a difficult situation. This too is something we must think through carefully.”

Liu Kun said, “I have heard the Deputy Governor is not much older than us. To have reached such a position at so young an age, she must have genuine ability. Yet with every new sovereign comes a new set of ministers — whatever the Deputy Governor’s ideas may be, they cannot all be taken as the orders of the Military Governor. We came here at the behest of our great-grandfather’s dying wishes, so we must still look to the Military Governor’s intentions.”

Liu Ao nodded. “I think the same. This Deputy Commander has been away from the administration throughout — her military achievements are outstanding, but I have not heard of any remarkable qualities in civil administration. Even if she excels in warfare, the foundation of a state still lies in agriculture. No matter how many powerful enemies surround you, you must have soldiers and grain to sustain yourself. Still, since the Military Governor values her, there must be a reason.”

Liu Yan said, “Why speculate about what sort of person she is now? When she arrives and we meet her, we will have our own judgment.”

When the three were still at home, they had often offered sweeping opinions on state affairs — but they all knew none of it could ever be put into practice, so they spoke without hesitation or concern. Now that they could actually influence Nan’an, they had become far more careful in their words. They were unwilling to casually judge Zhù Qingjun, and did not dare to speak lightly of “advising the Military Governor.”

With that, Liu Ao asked, “And what are your plans going forward?”

Liu Kun said, “I am afraid it is not for us to decide.”

Liu Yan agreed with her cousin: “Our advantage over the others in the administration lies in our family’s scholarly tradition — that is our use here. Nan’an is still being built, so we should maximize our strengths and work within our abilities. Whatever we are best at, that is what we should be seen doing — that is what makes sense. Even if we wish to govern well and bring peace to the people, we are better than others at writing books and teaching. Actually governing would still have to be entrusted to others. Such is our lot. If you asked me, I would say that having us revise and compile texts is more practical than having us administer a region.”

Yet they all knew that while overseeing the revision of canonical texts would be an unexpected pleasure, their true aspiration was also to genuinely practice the principles of a gentleman and bring benefit to the world and its people.

They were simply unwilling to resign themselves to that fate.

Liu Kun murmured, “Devoting a lifetime to scholarship — speaking of learning alone — it is a task that can never be completed.”

Liu Ao lowered her head in thought, then said, “It is precisely because of that that I want to ask you — what if there were an opportunity? From what I have seen, many things may not be as impossible as they seem. Though the Military Governor rules her subordinates strictly, beyond matters of military and state, she is quite nurturing toward those younger than her — as if she were cultivating disciples. Though she is now called Military Governor by virtue of her title, do not forget — she is still a Prime Minister! A prime minister of the court has always known how to deploy officials. Those serving in the central government will also be posted to local regions.

We have seen the situation in Nan’an with our own eyes — it is not entirely stable, and cannot be said to give her full peace of mind. As long as we do not stagnate and stop striving, the Military Governor will not simply keep idle people in comfortable retirement.

If the opportunity arises, are you willing to give it a try — to see whether you are capable — and if results are achieved, to share some of the Military Governor’s burden? And if it does not work out, at least you can settle your mind, come back, and play to your strengths.”

Both nieces said yes.

Liu Ao continued, “I have observed, being close to the Military Governor, that Nan’an is still short of talented people — particularly at the local level. The administration is revising its institutions, and it may not be possible for all three of us to go at once. Even if only one of us can get experience at the local level, that would be worthwhile. Whoever it is, the other two must support her. Those who remain must also do their own duties well and not be perfunctory. In our family, whatever we do, we must do it to the utmost.”

“Agreed!”

Liu Ao continued, “Local postings in Nan’an will certainly be harder than serving in the administration. As our great-grandfather used to say, without local experience one cannot shoulder great responsibilities! If we have the heart to benefit the world, we must do the work with our feet on the ground. How can we be satisfied with comfort and ease in the administration, sitting still as clay icons?”

Liu Kun asked, “What about the Deputy Governor’s side of things?”

Liu Yan said, “Even if we are assigned under the Deputy Governor, we must understand that the Military Governor is still our foundation.”

All three were products of the Liu family’s scholarly tradition and quickly reached a consensus: it was like the emperor assigning officials to the Crown Prince’s household — no matter how the prince fared, your superior was still the emperor. As for taking sides going forward, that was a matter for later. Compared to a prince of a fief, you would certainly side with the Crown Prince. As for a rivalry between two courts — that could be discussed again. In any case, the three of them had come to Zhù Ying’s side, so whose inclination lay where went without saying.

Having reached their decision, Liu Kun leaned back: “This business of being an official is quite enough to exhaust one’s mind and consume one’s time.”

Liu Yan gave her a languid look. Liu Ao asked, “Would you prefer not to do it then?”

Liu Kun leaped to her feet: “Absolutely not! If you don’t endure this hardship, you’ll end up with an even harder one! Ha!” Noticing that her aunt and cousin were laughing at her, she grew indignant and made to scratch at them both.

The three laughed and tumbled about together in a cheerful heap.

——

The plans of the aunt and nieces were settled. They went together to find Zhù Ying, requesting new assignments. As before, Liu Ao spoke first, saying that the tasks on hand were now complete, but that she “envied” others who had practical duties and hoped there might be an opportunity to take on something else.

Zhù Ying had seen many young women of this kind before. She asked, “What would you like to do?”

Liu Ao said, “We are young and have not experienced much. We do not dare decide our own positions for ourselves. They need not be prestigious posts — anything that is of benefit to the people will do.”

Liu Yan added, “As for the three of us — we need not all be in the same place.”

Liu Kun said, “If all three cannot go, even if just one of us could gain some real experience in governing and bringing peace to the people, that would be worthwhile.”

Zhù Ying said, “Your strengths are quite apparent.”

Liu Kun said, “It is nothing more than practiced habit! If you cannot find a suitable replacement for the moment, I can stay and let the other two go.”

Liu Yan added, “The greater good must come first. The positions we currently hold will not be neglected. If the time is not yet right, we will wait patiently — we only ask that when other tasks arise, we not be excluded from consideration. We did not come to Nan’an simply to find a different place to take it easy.”

“Serving as a local official is no easy thing. You have no experience — you would need someone to guide you.”

Liu Ao suppressed her excitement and said, “As long as someone is willing to take us, that would be enough.”

Zhù Ying said, “Then let me think it over.”

The three could not help but feel anxious, waiting tensely for the outcome — and at that very moment, a small change came over Xizhohu City: Zhù Qingjun had returned.

The western tribes had already concluded a peace agreement with the court, so the border commanders no longer had cause for a full-scale engagement. Both sides had returned to ordinary friction — you strike me once, I kick you back. Kun Da Chi acted as though he knew nothing of the skirmish between the border commander and Zhù Ying, and Zhù Ying likewise acted as though that skirmish had nothing to do with Kun Da Chi. Both sides gave the border commander a beating, reopened the trading post, and everything returned to as it had been.

What had changed was each side’s internal affairs.

Zhù Ying had already decided on Zhù Qingjun as her successor. Even though Zhù Qingjun had not demonstrated much talent in civil administration, even though Zhao Su was her adopted son and Zhù Lian was a student raised by the Zhù household, even though Su Mingluan had been raised at Zhù Ying’s side since childhood — on military merit alone, Zhù Qingjun had earned the right.

Given Nan’an’s current situation, with the western tribes never settling down, no one could accuse Zhù Ying of “reckless appointments” for choosing her.

As Zhù Qingjun led her troops back, the closer she drew to Xizhou City, the more solemn her expression became. At the time she had been at the front lines, locked in close combat with the western tribe cavalry. The enemy was not entirely without armor and weapons, and Nan’an’s armored forces did not hold an overwhelming advantage. The enemy could not break into Nan’an, but campaigning inside enemy territory was also backbreaking work.

It was at that moment that news arrived from the rear, appointing her as Deputy Military Governor. Zhù Qingjun was stunned on the spot. Her first order was: “No one is to spread this!” Followed by: “Who is trying to make things difficult for me?”

Only after maintaining the battle line and gathering more information did she learn it was genuine. Zhù Qingjun became even more cautious. She requested permission from Zhù Ying to return to Xizhou with her personal guard, asking Zhù Ying to dispatch someone to relieve the main force.

Zhù Ying agreed.

Zhù Qingjun quickly arranged the handover, and planned to have a proper talk with her teacher upon returning and express her loyalty to Zhù Ying. From childhood she had possessed a streak of fierce determination; as the years passed, that sharp edge had softened, and she had seen enough of the world to know that the role of “Deputy Commander” was no easy matter to assume.

But from the moment she entered Xizhou, everyone greeted her with smiles. Zhù Qingjun could only return the smiles in kind. When she called on Huajie, Huajie did not wait for her to speak before saying, “Since she chose you, it shows that you are capable. She has never been wrong.”

Seeing that Huajie’s vitality was not what it had once been, Zhù Qingjun did not dare burden her further, and went instead to see Zhù Ying.

Her conversation with Zhù Ying left her in a cold sweat twice over. She knew Zhù Ying’s temperament from experience, but what concerned her lay elsewhere. Zhù Ying was not alone, and neither was she. She harbored no divided loyalty toward Zhù Ying, but the “trusted followers” on both sides might not necessarily be of one mind.

Zhù Qingjun was just about to make clear to Zhù Ying that she would follow all directives from the administration, when Zhù Ying asked, “What are your thoughts on Pu’an Prefecture?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Zhù Ying said, “Although you have been made Deputy Governor, you have had little involvement in Nan’an’s civil administration. Your experience with local governance and everyday affairs is still somewhat lacking. How do you plan to train yourself?”

Zhù Qingjun steadied herself and said, “Since the court has already concluded peace with the western tribes, I will return to Pu’an Prefecture as before and start from the ground up — surveying land, building roads, and digging irrigation channels. But I am short of people. There are many rough men in the military; I need some more cultured ones.”

Zhù Ying said, “Very well.”

In Zhù Ying’s hands, the finest scholars were three — Liu Ao, Liu Kun, and Liu Yan. Zhù Ying let Zhù Qingjun choose, and Zhù Qingjun hesitated: “The granddaughters of Grand Scholar Liu — would that not be… a tremendous waste of their talent?”

Zhù Ying said, “What talent? A true gentleman is not limited to one use. I will not send all of them to you either. You may take one with you, spend some time together, and see whether she can handle practical work. If she can, that is an unexpected pleasure. If she cannot, send her back. They too can forget any other ambitions — they can come back and quietly copy books for me.”

Zhù Qingjun said, “Understood. Then I want Liu Kun.”

“Why?”

Zhù Qingjun said, “Your recent official documents have all come from Liu Ao’s hand, which shows she does the work well — I should not take her from you. Liu Yan is in the Bureau of Justice, and the legal codes and regulations are still being developed — she has work to do. Liu Kun, though she serves in the Bureau of Rites, still has Zhao Zhen there to assist. And when I return to Pu’an Prefecture, it would not be appropriate to continue using military law. Strict legal codes would also be inappropriate, so Liu Yan would not be the right fit. For restoring vitality, resettling veteran soldiers, spreading education, cultivating fields, and streamlining governance — Liu Kun is better suited.”

Zhù Ying said, “Very well.”

Zhù Qingjun felt relieved. She took her leave of Zhù Ying and went to bid farewell to Huajie. Huajie was now approaching seventy — by any measure, she was an elderly person — and Zhù Qingjun was deeply concerned about her. Zhù Ying then summoned Su Mingluan, Wu Ren, and Xiang An, instructing them to assist with resettling veteran soldiers and managing post-service matters. At the same time, she issued orders to transfer Liu Kun to Pu’an Prefecture.

The official document was drafted by Liu Ao, who felt a mix of surprise and excitement, but forced herself to remain calm and asked, “When she is gone, the vacancy… who will fill it?”

Zhù Ying said, “Transfer Xiang Yu over.”

Su Mingluan quickly said, “That would leave another vacancy in Wuzhou, and I am afraid the Wuzhou Prefect would have even fewer capable people left.”

The Outer Five Counties lay within Wuzhou, and the Wuzhou Prefect had only two counties under direct control — never very many people to start with. Xiang Yu was a seasoned hand, and now she was being pulled to Xizhou — Zhao Su’s responsibilities would only grow heavier. Su Mingluan was already worried about something going wrong in the Outer Five Counties.

Zhù Ying said, “Send Jiang Zhen over to help.”

“Then Jiang Zhen’s vacancy?” Wu Ren asked.

Zhù Ying said, “Leave it empty for now.”

Wu Ren puffed out her cheeks.

Zhù Qingjun pressed her lips into a slight smile and went to collect Liu Kun to accompany her to Pu’an Prefecture. It was spring now — if they left soon, they could still make it in time for the spring planting. Liu Kun had never imagined she would be the first to set out. She was convinced that she lacked Liu Ao’s steady composure and foresight, and also lacked Liu Yan’s quiet gravity and authority. Her strengths were not particularly striking. Sitting sideways in the saddle, she wore a smile with just a touch of happy silliness to it.

No one disturbed her moment of joy — they were all quite pleased to see it. At this moment, Liu Kun had no idea what lay ahead of her, but one thought did occur to her: if they have me teach, I will accept that too — Nan’an is short of teachers. But beyond teaching, surely there must be some actual practical work for me to do?

Governing and managing state affairs — what good is only reading books?

The “Greatest Literary Master of the Age” had once taught them: anyone who only knows how to recite the text and transplants what is written in books directly into reality is a fool! Even in scholarship, one cannot shut oneself away and work in isolation.

Full of confidence, Liu Kun swayed along with the procession, heading all the way toward Pu’an Prefecture.