Lingbo had her bout of intoxication, and woke the next day none the worse for it. Knowing she had entrusted the falcon to Shen Biwei’s care, she was actually relieved. She could never have kept it alive herself, and looking at it only stirred complicated feelings.
The capital was now all wind and turbulence — one major development following hard on the heels of another, leaving no time for her to be mournful. First, the women of Yanglin City proved to be exactly as formidable as one would expect: overnight, out of more than thirty of them, only two changed their minds about seeking separation. One did so because her parents threatened to take their own lives if she did not relent; the other because her husband, overwhelmed with remorse, knelt before her begging her to reconsider, and with their child crying out for its father, she eventually relented.
Even so, Wei Shanhu was still displeased, saying: “They’re all fools. They don’t even know they’ve been taken advantage of. The separation is done now — if they regret it afterward, they can always remarry. But if they miss this chance, who is going to stand up for them and help them seek separation later?”
But for all her sharp words, she still left the two women an open door — if things eventually became unlivable, the Yanglin City women would still welcome them back. For now, however, they were parting ways.
When all was said and done, the separations were truly granted. The Grand Princess presided, summoning the Marquis Cui, Master Chen, and the Chief of the Capital Prefecture for a three-way discussion. She had Marquis Cui bring the record of military merit, then divided the imperially granted estates and property in half, added provision for the upbringing of any children, and distributed what was due to these women. The Chief of the Capital Prefecture served as guarantor. Master Chen stood to one side with his hands clasped, listening to every word.
The speaking was done by Nanny Song, as sharp-tongued and masterful as ever: “Master Chen, you are a senior figure in the court, an indispensable minister close to the Emperor. How is it that when something like this occurred, you had no regard at all for anyone’s dignity? Strictly speaking, it is not my place as a servant to say such things. But when this old servant was in the palace, I was under the care and instruction of the late Empress Dowager, and Her Highness had a saying — a common saying it was — that it is better to tear down a thousand temples than to break apart a single marriage. The generals of the Northern March Army are the very pillars of this nation. To have wives who have shared their hardships with them — how precious is that. Yet your son and daughter-in-law have done exactly this ruinous thing, making life so unbearable for these women that they came to beg Her Highness to help them seek separation. More than twenty families, shattered just like that. What a grave offense. I know that Master Chen’s good fortune is deep and you fear no retribution, but even this old servant cannot help but feel that such actions invite misfortune…”
Her words were perfectly measured — she had not only laid the entire blame for these women’s separations at Master Chen’s feet but had also ensured that the infamy was his to carry. Master Chen was well aware she was dressing him down on behalf of the Grand Princess, and so he dared not contradict a word, merely nodding and apologizing in rapid succession. He declared: “Your servant will go home and ensure strict restraint upon his son and daughter-in-law, so that they will not cause further trouble.”
“Restraint will not be necessary,” said Lady Official Qin, her tone measured and cool. “Now that your family’s Caihua Banquet is concluded, it would be best for the young mistress of the Chen household to rest at home and refrain from involving herself in this year’s banquets any further.”
In one sentence she had stripped Lu Wenyin of any eligibility to attend this year’s Flower Gathering Banquet. Master Chen broke out in a cold sweat, but still did his utmost to plead: “Chief Lady Official, please be merciful. My daughter-in-law may be unsuitable, but my wife’s health is poor, and my own daughter is not yet married — her match depends entirely on this year’s Flower Gathering Banquet. Please, Your Highness, have mercy.”
In truth the Grand Princess had already won a decisive victory, and punishing Lu Wenyin was no more than pressing her advantage while she could. She did not particularly care about this small detail, and so simply said with cool restraint: “Then let her reflect upon her faults at home for half a month.”
Master Chen immediately knelt to give thanks. Nanny Song had a few more words to add: “Master Chen — you think only of the importance of your own daughter’s match. But what of the Yanglin City women whose lives have been ruined by your household? Widows left to raise fatherless children alone, with no one to depend on — how pitiable…”
Master Chen had no choice but to concede further: “Your servant volunteers a penalty — one year’s salary to be forfeited and distributed to the Northern March Army women who have been granted separation, as a warning and example to others.”
Having resolved this major affair, the Grand Princess was from that day forward the great benefactress of all the Yanglin City women — one might as well say she had gained a troop of capable female warriors sworn to her cause. This moment showed clearly how Wei Shanhu’s approach to influence fell short — she had no capable people at her side. The Grand Princess, by contrast, already had several formidable figures under her command: Lady Official Su was upright, Lady Official Qin was ruthless, and the various senior nannies were each skilled in their own way — between them they had this group of women falling perfectly into line, under her command as smoothly as directing her own hands and arms. After the Caihua Banquet came the Apricot Blossom Banquet, and the Grand Princess, as if trying out a new capability, immediately put this to use there.
The Apricot Blossom Banquet was by nature a smaller affair, but the Grand Princess’s patronage made it an uncommon honor at once. Ye Lingbo had already sensed that the Grand Princess meant to establish her authority, and had told Han Yueqi. Since Han Yueqi had hosted the Welcoming Spring Banquet herself, she immediately arranged for Young Mistress Wang to secure this banquet, and sure enough a decree came from the Grand Princess directing Pingjun Prince’s household to take the opportunity to host the Polo Banquet as well, so as not to disrupt the spring hunt.
Pingjun Prince’s household was already at a disadvantage. The Middle Palace had been reprimanded and dared not make any rash moves, and the Grand Princess was currently unchallenged in her authority, so they had no choice but to swallow this bitter loss. Though nominally it was the Polo Banquet held alongside the Apricot Blossom Banquet, in reality all the prestige had been seized by Young Mistress Wang.
Young Mistress Wang was in fact a distant cousin of Han Yueqi’s. Her given name was Wang Yiwei, and she was not by nature a combative person. But she had formed a deep enmity with Lu Wenyin back in those years. She was two years younger than both Lu Wenyin and Han Yueqi and had participated in the Flower Gathering Banquet later, so strictly speaking, there had been no reason for any conflict. But Lu Wenyin had seen fit to take a gratuitous swipe at her, making a half-joking yet pointed remark to Lady Wang about the ancient taboo against marriage within the same surname — with a wink at the Wang family of censors — essentially calling the match into question. Although things ultimately turned out fine and the marriage went through without incident, Wang Yiwei had borne a grudge against Lu Wenyin ever since. After her wedding, she had placed herself under Han Yueqi’s banner, following her lead in all things, and became one of Han Yueqi’s most capable lieutenants.
So it was again this time. The Apricot Blossom Banquet was nominally the Wang family’s, but it was effectively Han Yueqi’s. Everything she had not had time to arrange at the Welcoming Spring Banquet, she arranged here — inviting young men of talent and distinction from throughout the capital, as well as the young officers of the Northern March Army, to Pingjun Prince’s garden estate in the apricot grove, where the ladies were seated on the second floor watching the polo match below.
In Shen Biwei’s words, Shen Yunze was indeed frivolous in nature and born deserving of a lesson. When Han Yueqi had been gracious and virtuous, he had not valued her. Now that Han Yueqi paid him no attention, he was suddenly far more well-behaved. He had not been invited to the Apricot Blossom Banquet, yet he had arrived early, bringing with him his colleagues from the Hanlin Academy — no small number of young and handsome junior scholars among them. Lingbo looked on with amusement: “Han elder sister really does know how to use a decoy bird. I must admit my inferiority.”
Han Yueqi turned the teasing back on her: “With such fine spring weather, does Lingbo have no plans of her own?”
Ye Lingbo only smiled faintly: “Don’t tease me, Han elder sister. I have no such thoughts.”
Yet even as she said it, she could not help casting glances over and over toward the Northern March Army officers. She knew full well that Pei Zhao, with his indolent temperament, was not one to appear at grand occasions like this — he most likely would not be here at all. But even knowing that, she could not explain why she kept looking in that direction.
Han Yueqi, unaware of all this, assumed she was worried about Cui Jingyu and Qinglan, and said: “Cui Jingyu is going to play polo in a moment. Shall I move He Qingyi’s seat farther back?”
Lingbo laughed.
“No need. I am not Lu Wenyin. We don’t resort to those methods.” She said evenly. “The Flower Gathering Banquet is just each person relying on their own merits. If he’s going to be foolish, let him be foolish.”
If she was this open-minded about it, how much more so was Qinglan. Since it was Young Mistress Wang’s Apricot Blossom Banquet, Qinglan had arrived early to help, her face lightly touched with powder, dressed simply in a quiet pale blue-green. Because of the polo match, all the seats along the upper floor railing were taken, and some bolder young ladies had simply left their seats to stand watching, while others exclaimed with delight: “I heard Marquis Cui is going to play!”
Qinglan quietly helped Han Niangzi prepare tea. Even Han Niangzi was impressed: “Miss, your hands are so steady.”
“When the heart is still, the hands naturally follow,” Qinglan said.
She had long since cultivated a composure as undisturbed as still water in an ancient well — otherwise, how would she have endured these many years?
But Han Yueqi would not let her be still in peace. She and Lingbo had saved a space along the railing and pulled her firmly over, insisting that the polo match was entertaining and that she should come watch and let her mind breathe.
In truth Qinglan was no fool. She could faintly sense what her younger sister and Han Yueqi were scheming. She did not take offense — she found it rather amusing, and felt a pang of something for the efforts they had put in on her behalf.
All things in this world have their fated course. There is no forcing what cannot be forced.
Below, things were indeed lively. The wager at the Chen family’s Caihua Banquet had spread throughout the capital. Whether the Emperor had intentionally allowed it, or whether it was simply the spirit of young men’s rivalry, the Northern March Army officers who had come to the capital were no longer the only competitors. The capital’s noble young men had rallied together, led by a retainer close to the Rui Prince, a man called Yuan Xiu, who was of imperial clan descent and whose family still held a noble title. By palace convention, the guards closest to the Emperor were often drawn from the imperial clan or the finest noble families, and those who served in such proximity to power, when eventually released from service, tended to go on to great things.
After the Rains, the weather had grown warm, and the snow had finally stopped. Pingjun Prince’s household had deep resources; even the garden estate had a large open courtyard paved with stone flags, swept clean until it formed a smooth expanse perfectly suited for polo. The weather was fine too — a clear, bright day — and the noble young men were dressed in vivid brocade, while the Northern March Army officers were no less splendid in their imperially granted scarlet brocade robes. The whole scene was a picture.
The banquet would have been fairly ordinary, since the Grand Princess herself was not present — she had sent only Lady Official Su in her place. But the Rui Prince had apparently come to lend his backing to Yuan Xiu, and when he arrived, naturally he became the center of all attention. Pingjun Prince came personally to attend upon him, and the Rui Prince, deferential as he was, even called him Uncle, which sent Pingjun Prince into a fluster about how he could not possibly accept the address.
The Rui Prince himself could not play, but his spirits were high. He smiled and said: “Shouldn’t there be a prize for the polo match?”
“Your Highness,” Pingjun Prince replied quickly with a smile, “there is indeed a prize. This prince has prepared some things, though they may be modest.”
“Uncle’s things are naturally fine. But since the polo match is being held together with the Apricot Blossom Banquet, it would be fitting to have two prizes.” The Rui Prince smiled. “Since Auntie Minghua is not here today, I shall offer her prize on her behalf. Yuan Xiu, bring our bow up.”
The exquisitely crafted bow that had served as prize at the Emperor’s event — because it had been in the imperial presence, everyone had been constrained from looking too closely, knowing only that it was extraordinarily valuable. But this bow was brought out in full view of everyone, and with so many people present who knew their horsemanship and archery, eyes immediately brightened around the gathering.
“The Emperor has a far greater collection than this prince, and I cannot produce anything to match that bow. But this Yinyu Bow is itself one of the renowned bows of the Lingyan Pavilion. Since this prince has no talent for riding and archery, I shall offer it as reward for today’s polo match winner.” The Rui Prince smiled pleasantly. “I hope no one here will find it unworthy.”
Who would dare find it unworthy? The wager over the peregrine falcon from before had never been properly concluded — neither side had caught one — so even without a prize they were going to settle the score. With the Rui Prince putting up such a generous reward on top of that, those inclined to flatter, like Master Chen, were already chiming in with enthusiasm: “Who could be so ungrateful? The Prince’s things are naturally the very finest — to win such a prize would be an incomparable honor…”
The other officials echoed agreement, while the men who were actually about to take to the field said very little, each quietly calculating with their own ambitions. Since this was a garden estate, each side would field only five players, which meant the selection was all the more carefully made. On the noble young men’s side, Yuan Xiu naturally took command. He had an air of mystery about him but was extraordinarily well-informed, and in short order he disqualified the leading figures among the noble young men — Chen Yaoqing, Shen Yunze, and the rest — with a direct pronouncement: “Today’s polo match is serious business. Even setting aside the Prince’s prize, it is a matter of the capital nobility’s reputation — it must be played well. Rank is secondary. Polo skill comes first. Young Master Shen, Young Master Chen — my apologies.”
The noble young men had no grounds for objection. But seeing his decisiveness, they found that his selection process had its own clear logic and was thoroughly impartial — he chose several down-on-their-luck noble young men known for their exceptional polo, and no one could quite fathom how he had come by such specific knowledge, living as he did within the deep palace.
On the officers’ side, Wei Yushan was naturally burning to win. In the Northern March Army, polo was not a common practice — they trained in riding and archery, with no leisure for games on the battlefield. They had all only taken it up after coming to the capital, so the pool of players was limited. The first person he turned to was naturally Cui Jingyu, going up to him and saying: “Brother Cui, today I’m counting on you.”
“That’s right,” Luo Yong added: “When our commander played polo back in those days, he was extraordinary — he took first place at the Running Horse Banquet.”
“I’m long out of practice,” Cui Jingyu said without enthusiasm. He was now a marquis, and his temperament had always been cold and reserved — he had no interest in participating in the rivalries of these young men’s pride and spirit. The other day at the imperial event, he had only participated in the hunt because the Emperor had named him specifically. Now, with the Emperor not present, he naturally stood off to the side with his arms folded, utterly indifferent to the many ladies on the upper floor who were sneaking glances at him.
Wei Yushan’s spirits sagged at that. But he refused to accept defeat — his eyes swept around, and happened to fall on the upper floor, where the ladies were leaning along the railing watching the spectacle, a vibrant array of color and merriment. An idea suddenly came to him.
“Right — I’ve heard that the polo banquet has a tradition: the winning team rides a full circuit of the garden, and they can take flowers along the way and toss them up to the ladies’ gallery. Whichever young lady a flower lands on can only accept it, and it’s a rare honor.” He gave Luo Yong a nudge with his polo mallet.
Luo Yong, plain-spoken as ever, took the bait immediately: “Then I’d better play my best today. My wife is still up there on the floor — if we lose and some blind fool tosses a flower at her, I’ll break his legs!”
In truth, Wei Shanhu was fairly ordinary-looking, and she was already a married woman with her hair dressed accordingly — only he would be worried about such a thing.
Wei Yushan had not done enough stirring yet, and went to provoke Yin Hongyuan next: “General Yin, I hear your household is having its own troubles. Better be careful.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Yin Hongyuan said evenly.
Having finished provoking them, Wei Yushan finally went to work on Cui Jingyu: “Brother Cui, just come out and play — I can see there are barely any of us who are any good at polo, and without you, everyone is finished. All the Northern March women are up in the gallery — if we really let them ride around the garden tossing flowers, that would be unbearably humiliating.”
Luo Yong was easy to sway and immediately echoed: “Right, right — Commander, just help us play this one match.”
So Cui Jingyu took a polo mallet after all, and prepared to take the field. His expression remained cool. He did not glance once at the upper floor, no matter how many ladies were stealing looks at him, but stood to the side with his horse, unmoved.
Wei Yushan sighed inwardly. Day-to-day, Ye Lingbo worked away at her schemes, hoping to bring Brother Cui and Elder Sister Ye back together, and he had always found it tiresome. But now that he had tried his own hand at it, he understood how difficult it truly was. Elder Sister Ye’s nature went without saying — soft on the outside and iron within, not to be budged in the slightest. Brother Cui was an iceberg unto himself. If you actually wanted these two to find their way back to each other, Ye Lingbo might have to wait until the seas ran dry.
Yuan Xiu, on his side, was not only managing his own formation — he was watching their side closely the whole time. Seeing Cui Jingyu take the field, he felt a twinge of wariness, thought it over, and said: “Lao Qi, if we fall behind by one goal, you go on.”
The Rui Prince, watching nearby, immediately laughed: “The match hasn’t even started and A’Yuan is already resorting to tricks?”
The one called Lao Qi was a guard close to the Rui Prince — the Emperor held him in high regard, and naturally those who guarded him were exceptional people, with the build of a natural martial artist. Yuan Xiu objected immediately when the Rui Prince said this. “The match hasn’t even started and Your Highness is already taking their side?” He had a young man’s fierceness about him, with an added layer of the dark guardedness that came from years in the palace, and an unrestrained pride to him. “Why does Lao Qi not count as a capital noble? His father still holds a position in the Court of State Ceremonial. He was perfectly entitled to play from the start.”
The Rui Prince only smiled: “Fine, fine — you make a fair point.”
Yuan Xiu, his hidden reserves accounted for, finally relaxed, then sent attendants to bring his horses — he had two fine horses stabled at his residence in the capital, kept specifically for the four men’s banquets of the season. They should have been brought today but no one had known the exact location and the horseshoes and tack could not be switched at the last moment, so he had only just sent someone to fetch them.
Master Chen, the consummate flatterer, immediately said: “Young Master Yuan is thorough in all his preparations — a craftsman must have sharp tools before he can do good work.”
“Naturally,” Yuan Xiu replied, head raised with confidence. “The four men’s banquets are a serious matter and should be approached with care. Like the hunting wager before the Emperor the other day — the Emperor was in such excellent spirits and even put up a prize, and yet someone had to ruin it. The entire forest was turned inside out and that peregrine falcon was never found. Truly vexing. I inquired at several of the checkpoints around the capital outskirts, and none of them reported seeing a peregrine with cinnabar markings leave the city. It was most likely some reckless person who hid it away. They’d better hope I don’t find out who.”
The Rui Prince found this amusing: “Indeed — our Yuan Xiu may not be able to find a bird, but at finding people he is unrivaled.”
Yuan Xiu was too frustrated to speak, and could only mutter to himself: “Your Highness, just wait for me to take the prize today.”
Yuan Xiu had not arranged all this preparation for nothing. When the horses finally came onto the field, they made a striking sight — a matched set of fine purebreds, their breath steaming in the cool air, some still wearing cotton covers, their saddles and bridles all in uniform scarlet. They stood a full head taller than the Northern March Army’s steppe horses — truly magnificent, high-standing animals. The mallets were excellent as well: two long-handled, two short-handled, and one medium-handled which Yuan Xiu kept for himself. He assigned positions: “Young Master Gao, young Master Wei — you two take the dappled grey and the yellow roan. These two are even-tempered and easy with strangers; just ride without worry. Take one long mallet and one short, and hold the back line. Dou Yuan, Old Yuan, you’re with me on offense. Old Yuan, you take the red chestnut and keep an eye on the back line.”
Everyone fell into place. Seeing their own side well-horsed and well-manned, confidence ran high. Yuan Xiu mounted as well, rode up to the Pingjun Prince estate officer serving as referee, and asked: “What are the stakes — only goals, or including the flower-picking?”
“Flower-picking is included, of course,” Wei Yushan said immediately. “You’ve gone to all this trouble — surely you’re not only here to score a few goals?”
“Then flower-picking it is,” Yuan Xiu said coolly.
Servants came forward at once, raising silk flower-balls high on bamboo poles planted behind each goal. Then Old Yuan made a mischievous remark: “For flower-picking, you don’t have the host provide the flowers — you ask the ladies for them.”
Yuan Xiu swept a look toward the Northern March Army side, and immediately smiled.
The Northern March Army had granted separation to more than twenty wives just days ago, which had become the talk of the capital. Now their female relatives were all up in the gallery — if they lost today, it would truly be impossible to save face.