Her mind had run through a thousand twists and turns, yet not a flicker of it showed on Madam Ji’s face.

After being shown to her seat by Shen Zhuxi, she looked around at the other lady guests at her table and was pleased to discover several ladies she was on good terms with.

After a few mutual compliments on each other’s dress and accessories, the ladies quickly fell to whispering among themselves.

“…Not as bad as I expected,” one of them concluded.

Madam Ji agreed wholeheartedly.

She had just sipped the homemade flower tea Shen Zhuxi had mentioned. It was naturally no match for the finest pre-Qingming green tea, but the fact that common Houkui tea, combined with dried pearl orchid blossoms, could leave such a lingering fragrance was something she had not expected at all.

“Did anyone else notice the scent in the air?” one of the ladies asked.

“I did — it is wonderfully fragrant,” said another. “It is definitely not an incense from Zhang’s Incense Shop. I don’t think any of the other incense shops in town carry this fragrance either.”

“I just asked one of the maidservants — this is a blend that Madam Li prepared herself. I shall ask Madam Li for the formula when the banquet ends.”

“I want one as well…”

Madam Ji, afraid of being left behind, quickly added, “Copy one out for me too.”

She was no expert in fragrances, and had little interest in dress or ornamentation, yet seeing the other ladies so keen, she could not help inhaling deeply herself, searching for what they were speaking of.

She had not noticed it before, but now that she made a deliberate effort to smell, she caught it — that faint, ethereal fragrance, like the stillness of an empty orchid grove.

It was a scent Madam Ji had never encountered before, yet it lifted her spirits regardless, and the displeasure of having come to this banquet under duress gradually dissolved.

This banquet was not as dreadful as she had imagined.

When Madam Wang arrived last and joined Madam Ji’s table, as the wife of the Prefect and thus the highest-ranking lady present, she was welcomed by many of the ladies in the hall even before she had taken her seat. She sat down with a smile, and the ladies at the table began praising her gown and accessories. Madam Ji chose a different approach, offering a sweeping eulogy of Madam Wang’s husband — his governance, his reputation among the people, a thorough and effusive tribute from every angle — until Madam Wang’s cheeks flushed pink and she could not stop smiling.

With Madam Wang now seated, the midday banquet officially began.

One exquisitely presented dish after another was set upon the round table, and the wholesome, honest fragrance of the food stirred Madam Ji’s appetite; she swallowed involuntarily.

She could not recall the last time she had tasted dishes like these — simple, everyday fare.

With some caution, she lifted her chopsticks and picked up a piece of red-and-white layered pork with sweet bean paste. The richness of the pork belly burst open in her mouth; the clean sweetness of the red bean paste tempered the fat, and what remained was a silken, yielding texture that spread gradually through her palate.

There was nothing unusual about the dish itself, yet after years of delicacies from mountain and sea, the simple pleasures of home cooking — where flavor mattered far more than exotic ingredients — proved to have a charm all their own.

Madam Ji could not help picking at several more dishes in turn. Each one shared the same quality: simple ingredients, exceptional taste.

Restraining her now-fully-awakened appetite, she looked up and swept her gaze across the hall. Every table arrangement, she realized, had been thoughtfully considered.

Ladies who were close friends were seated together. Those with similar tastes in food sat at the same table. Even the dishes at each table had been subtly adjusted to suit the particular guests seated there.

The entire banquet appeared unpretentious, yet everywhere bore the traces of careful, deliberate preparation.

To have managed all this without any assistance, using only the modest resources available to her — Madam Li had accomplished no small feat.

Madam Ji asked herself honestly: at Madam Li’s age, she could never have been this considerate.

After the banquet began, that clove-purple figure moved in and out among the tables of the hall.

Shen Zhuxi was young, already married, and posed no threat to any of the ladies present. She was courteous, knew when to speak and when to stay back, and had a sweeter tongue than anyone — even the sharpest-tongued Madam He was all smiles in her presence.

Madam Ji thoroughly understood Madam He’s feelings.

Truthfully, aside from the matter of social standing, she could find no reason not to like Madam Li.

She seemed born with the ability to make people fond of her. When those soft, bright almond eyes smiled at you — gentle and warm, like the guileless gaze of a small creature with no defenses at all — it was nearly impossible not to feel a swell of tenderness.

Madam Ji was not, by nature, a soft-hearted person, yet Madam Li reminded her several times of her own daughter, and after the banquet began, she deflected two cups of wine on Madam Li’s behalf.

Seeing Madam Ji intercede, the other ladies naturally took the hint and set down their wine cups, drinking tea in its place.

The midday banquet concluded with guests and host all having thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

The ladies departed with their fragrance formulas and flower tea recipes in hand, each helping her tipsy husband back into their carriage.

Master Ji’s face had gone entirely red from drink. His prominent belly struck the side of the carriage first, then the narrow bench inside, before he finally dropped heavily onto the carriage floor, his bulk occupying more than half the available space.

Madam Ji was nearly knocked off her feet by him.

She steadied herself, bent down at once to help him up, and scolded him, “My lord, how did you come to drink so much?”

“Drink! One more round… I refuse to believe you can’t be drunk under the table!” Master Ji, barely coherent, alternated between wanting to climb back out and drink more, and slapping the bench beside him while berating, “Centurion Li, you rogue — you lied, you l-lied to me when you said you couldn’t hold your drink… If you can’t hold your drink, then no one on earth can!”

The Ji family carriage lurched away, swaying and unsteady.

Wang Wenzhong and his wife were the last to emerge from the villa gate. Shen Zhuxi personally escorted them to their carriage, with Li Wu beside her, his expression as composed as ever.

Madam Wang wore a smile, and the way she looked at Shen Zhuxi was considerably warmer than it had been at first meeting.

“Thank you for your hospitality today. When the opportunity arises, I shall invite you to our home to taste the cooking of Xuzhou’s local chefs.” Madam Wang smiled at Shen Zhuxi.

Whether or not she meant it, Shen Zhuxi accepted the invitation with a smile.

While she chatted with Madam Wang, Wang Wenzhong and Li Wu were also exchanging words.

“Centurion Li, to have wed such a capable wife — this is a rare fortune indeed.”

Wang Wenzhong watched Shen Zhuxi at Li Wu’s side, his expression unreadable.

From that still, undisturbed face, Li Wu could discern nothing of what he intended to convey.

Any ordinary person, out of prudence, would have offered a modest denial at a moment like this.

Li Wu did no such thing.

He gave a light laugh and said plainly, “Being able to marry my wife — yes, that truly is my fortune.”

“Since you have married her, do not fail her,” Wang Wenzhong said meaningfully.

“That goes without saying,” Li Wu replied without a moment’s hesitation.

Wang Wenzhong nodded. “The matter of Jinzhu Stronghold was well handled. Keep at this rate, and your future is without limit.”

“I think so too,” said Li Wu.

“…”

Wang Wenzhong was silent for a moment, then gave up his attempt to deepen the conversation.

“Let us go,” he said to Madam Wang.

“Yes, my lord.” Madam Wang acknowledged him, then turned to smile at Shen Zhuxi. “We shall be taking our leave.”

“Do take care on the way.”

Shen Zhuxi dipped slightly in farewell, and quietly nudged Li Wu with her elbow. Li Wu raised both hands and cupped them in a parting bow toward the Prefect and his wife.

Once the carriage door was shut, the carriage slowly rolled away from the villa.

Madam Wang withdrew her gaze from the window, and said with a thoughtful air, “What was Madam Li’s background, before all this?”

“A palace maidservant who fled when the palace fell,” said Wang Wenzhong.

Madam Wang murmured in admiration, “…No wonder she carries herself with such grace.”

“…What was Shiyong doing when we left?”

“Sulking behind a closed door — reading a book, I’d imagine. Why do you ask?” Madam Wang looked puzzled. “Was it not you who told her to stay home and read more?”

“Keep a closer eye on her. Limit how much she goes out,” Wang Wenzhong said, his brow furrowing.

“Why? What is the matter with Shiyong?” The puzzlement on Madam Wang’s face deepened. “Ever since Shiyong came home, the two of you have both been acting strangely. What is it you’re both keeping from me?”

“You needn’t ask why — just follow my instructions,” Wang Wenzhong said, his voice turning cold.

Madam Wang could only swallow her questions. “…Yes, my lord.”

“The matter I asked you to look into — how far have you gotten?”

“I have made some inquiries, but the eligible candidates — Shiyong doesn’t like any of them, and honestly, I don’t find any of them particularly suited to her either.” Madam Wang paused, then said hesitantly, “My lord, do you truly wish to marry Shiyong off so soon? She has only just come of age. Another year would give no one cause to talk…”

Wang Wenzhong’s expression darkened. “What is the point of waiting? So she can become an old spinster who can’t find a husband? Is that what you want for your daughter?”

“Our Shiyong has talent, beauty, and a father who would move heaven and earth for her — how could she possibly fail to find a husband?” Madam Wang cried in alarm.

“…The world is unpredictable. No one can say what the future holds.”

“My lord, you are overthinking this. With Shiyong’s qualities, never mind the young talent of Xuzhou — even the noble families of the capital could—”

“Noble families of the capital?”

Wang Wenzhong abruptly turned to look at Madam Wang, and the sharpness of his gaze made her cut herself off at once.

“Which noble family of the capital?” he asked.

Madam Wang’s eyes shifted away, and she spoke haltingly, “The new Emperor has only just ascended the throne, the inner palace is still empty… At the very least… at the very least, I’ve heard that Prime Minister Fu’s son is a fine-looking young man…”

“Enough!”

Wang Wenzhong cut her off, his face darkening.

“Princess of Yue is barely cold in her grave, and already you’ve set your sights on her former intended?”

Madam Wang said softly, “What former intended? At most they were an engaged couple — they never even bowed at the altar together. It can hardly be called a marriage…”

“Go tell that to His Majesty!”

That finally silenced Madam Wang, albeit reluctantly.

“Never speak of this again,” Wang Wenzhong said, his face a stony grey. “Whether it is Fu Xuanmiao or His Majesty himself — neither is someone our family can aspire to. Put away those little ambitions of yours. This matter is absolutely impossible, now and forever.”

“But why?!” Madam Wang, hearing him slam the door on all possibility, felt tears suddenly surge from her eyes. “My lord, Shiyong is your only daughter! In family name, in talent, in learning, in looks, in character — she excels in every way. Why is she not worthy of the noble families of the capital?”

“Do not ask me! If you do not wish to see Shiyong hang herself by a white silk cord before your very eyes, then never raise this again!”

These were devastating words, and Madam Wang no longer dared to press him. She sat stunned, tears held behind her eyes.

Wang Wenzhong himself was in the foulest of moods.

Any father, with a daughter who had fallen into such a predicament, would be no better.

His clean and respectable daughter — though her purity had not been taken — had been dragged into a mountain cave by bandits and violated. That it had not gone further made it little better than if it had.

Were this ever to come to light, her only path for the rest of her life would be the Buddhist nunnery.

This alone was enough to trouble him greatly, and yet Shiyong, foolishly and thoughtlessly, had gone and developed feelings for a solitary orphan of beggar’s blood.

To prevent things from growing worse with time, her marriage had to be settled as soon as possible.

“Shiyong’s marriage cannot be delayed any further. You must put more effort into it,” Wang Wenzhong said in a tone that brooked no argument. “The candidate need not be from Xuzhou — a promising young man from a nearby prefecture will do. So long as his family background is clean and his character is exemplary, the standing of his household need not be too high—”

“My lord!” Madam Wang’s eyes went wide.

“If you truly have your daughter’s best interests at heart, you will listen to me!” Wang Wenzhong snapped.

The carriage wheels rolled on without cease, but the only sound within the carriage now was quiet sobbing. The coachman, long accustomed to such things, drove the horses onward without expression.

…

“Whoa—”

As the horses pulling the carriage gradually drew to a halt, the rolling wheels came to rest as well.

Shen Zhuxi descended from the carriage using the mounting block, supported by Li Wu.

She had only just told Li Wu in the carriage that she was not tired, yet the moment her feet touched the ground, she could not rush back to the inner room fast enough. She did not even stop to change her clothes before she toppled face-first onto the bed.

The moment her body met the thick, soft mattress, Shen Zhuxi was overcome with the desire to heave a long, relieved sigh.

Day after day of constant running about, inside and out — she had probably walked every road she would ever walk in this lifetime. All she wanted now was to become a seed, take root the instant she landed on the bed, and lie completely still for several days and nights before she could think about doing anything else.

Just as she lay sprawled on the bed refusing to move, a familiar set of footsteps sounded behind her.

She turned her head and saw Li Wu walk in carrying her washbasin, wisps of steam curling steadily upward from the hot water inside.

Assuming he had fetched it for himself, Shen Zhuxi said, “You’ve got the wrong one — that’s my basin.”

Li Wu kept walking until he reached the side of the bed.

He set the washbasin down, then crouched down himself.

“Take off your shoes,” he said.