Without anyone noticing when it happened, the osmanthus tree in the courtyard of the Li Residence had put out tender green shoots.

After the Start of Spring, the temperature gradually warmed, and the bustle of spring planting slowly drove away the shadow of the flood that had hung over the people of the six prefectures. In order to find livelihoods for the disaster-stricken people of the four flooded prefectures, Shen Zhuxi was out and about every day, and as a result Li Wu was compelled to report to the official office each day as well — to affix his distinctive approvals to a string of trifling documents:

“Approved.”

“Rejected.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Go to hell.”

“If even something no bigger than a duck dropping requires a special petition to me, I might as well collect your salary while I’m at it.”

Before Li Wu became an official, he had always assumed that the matters sitting on the desks of the robed officials in the yamen must be of great importance to people’s livelihoods. Only once he became an official himself did he discover that for most officials, what sat on their desks were petty matters such as whether a wealthy young layabout riding roughshod over people with his horse should be arrested, or whether a powerful landowner encroaching on farmers’ fields should be forcibly dealt with — matters that were easy to handle if you called them easy, and troublesome if you called them troublesome.

The policies that could truly affect people’s livelihoods had been decided many years before, and as long as no obvious defects had emerged, no one would risk changing policies that had been in continuous operation for decades or even centuries.

Even to push through a single policy required many rounds of meetings, passing through many hands, overcoming countless voices of opposition, and rooting out those who paid only lip service while secretly undermining — only then could that policy truly reach the common people at the grassroots level.

Every day Li Wu sat in the official office, brow furrowed, dealing with people whose schemes were more numerous than duck feathers, and struggling to decipher the worthless scraps of paper.

It made him feel as though every day was wasted.

The sun rose and set, but when he thought back at day’s end on what had actually been accomplished — nothing at all.

The mild sunlight streaming through the window fell across his desk, and Li Wu’s heart itched with the urge to go outside. Unknown birds chirped and called outside the door, making him even more restless and irritable — even a bird could go outside and bask in the sun and sleep at leisure; why was he forced to sit here reading this stuff not worth even a duck’s droppings?

“I’m done, I’m done! What is all this rubbish!”

A document was crumpled into a ball, and with a whoosh it sailed toward the door, striking Fang Tingzhi — who had just walked in — squarely.

“My respects, my lord.” Fang Tingzhi bowed and, holding a stack of organized documents, planted himself in front of Li Wu who was trying to slip out early. “These are the internal and external documents received in recent days. Please review them at your earliest convenience.”

“Review nothing!” Li Wu said impatiently. “They’re all petty trifles not worth a lick, and that kind of thing — stop sending it to me from now on!”

“The others can wait for now, but my lord should at least read the topmost document first.”

Fang Tingzhi stepped to the right to again block Li Wu’s attempt to leave through the door.

“What is this?” Li Wu asked with a frown.

Fang Tingzhi only urged him with his eyes to go through the documents as quickly as possible.

Li Wu had no choice but to pick up the topmost document and unfold it. His character recognition was still not entirely fluent, but when he made out the characters for “Deputy Chief Minister of the Secretariat,” his already unpleasant expression turned visibly even more sour.

“A decree of punitive campaign against the Military Commissioner of Wuying?” Li Wu gave a scornful smile. “The false Liao has barely fallen, and already they can’t wait to clean house?”

Fang Tingzhi lowered his head and said, “The same decree of punitive campaign was issued to all military commissioners except the one at Wuying. Our Zhenshan should have received it somewhere in the middle batch. It is reported that the Military Commissioners of Xuanhuai and Shu’an — Chen Yu — received the decree before us, yet to this day both parties have remained still without mobilizing.”

Li Wu was unsurprised.

It was barely plausible that Military Commissioner Chen Yu of Shu’an would sit still — during the collapse of the Shangjiang Embankment, the sixty thousand elite troops he had brought from Shu’an had all been lost in the fighting. But that Military Commissioner Liang Shiwen of Xuanhuai would ignore the summons — his little calculations were far too obvious.

Following along to share in the spoils was one thing. Being the vanguard cannon fodder was another matter entirely.

Even with the punitive decree issued, this war could not start at a moment’s notice. The military commissioners one by one were all waiting to see what the others would do, none willing to be the first to open hostilities.

Their opponent was no remnant force of the false Liao, but the Wuying Army in its full, battle-hardened strength.

Li Wu slapped the punitive decree back down onto the stack of documents Fang Tingzhi was holding, and said, “Our Zhenshan is still managing the flood aftermath and settling disaster victims. Where do we find the manpower and resources to go to war?”

“How does my lord wish to respond?”

“Respond with what — a waste of my ink.” Li Wu said impatiently. “I’m busy. Handle it yourself as you see fit.”

“This isn’t appropriate. My lord should still…”

Before Fang Tingzhi could finish his appeal, Li Wu pushed past him and strode out of the office.

After stepping out the gate of the official office, Li Wu was like a yellow duck that had finally escaped the duck pen — he shook his heels loose and made his way home with a heart unburdened of all weight.

After Li Wu returned to the residence, Shen Zhuxi was not in the house. He went to the back courtyard, found a railing at random, and lay down, closing his eyes in the warm spring sunlight. The warm, pleasant sunlight lay over him like a fuzzy blanket, and as Li Wu drifted between waking and sleep, he suddenly sensed someone approaching. He snapped his eyes open, startling Shen Zhuxi — who was just about to drape a thin blanket over him.

“When did you get back?” Li Wu sat up.

“Just now. I came back to change clothes.” Shen Zhuxi said. “Why have you come home so early today?”

“Nothing much to do at the office. Fang Tingzhi told me to come back and spend more time with you.” Li Wu said without so much as a blush.

“Fang Tingzhi told you to come back and spend time with me?” Shen Zhuxi said in surprise.

“That’s right!” Li Wu said without missing a beat. “He said no matter how busy with work, one must not neglect one’s family.”

Shen Zhuxi found it rather hard to believe that Fang Tingzhi would take an interest in his superior’s domestic affairs.

She looked at Li Wu with suspicion. He reached around her waist and pulled her closer.

“It’s been so long since we’ve gone out together. Look at what lovely weather today — put aside whatever you have in hand, and let’s take Diao’er out to enjoy ourselves.”

“The spring farming season is just getting underway, and there are so many things to attend to in Xiangzhou. How can we just take the time off… hey! Where are you dragging me!”

Before Shen Zhuxi could finish, Li Wu swept her up into his arms. She gave a startled, light flurry of fists against Li Wu, but Li Wu was unmoved.

“Diao’er! We’re going out to play!”

Li Wu lifted his chin and called out toward the neighboring courtyard.

“Play… Big Brother!”

Li Kun’s deep, booming answer rang out immediately, followed by the excited sound of thudding footsteps charging toward the front gate.

“Alright! Let’s go out! But put me down first—” Shen Zhuxi said helplessly.

Li Wu refused to let go, and carried her all the way to the front gate before personally helping her up into the carriage.

Every servant they passed along the way was thoroughly accustomed to the two of them and greeted them as usual with bows and salutations. It was Shen Zhuxi who was red in the face, not daring to meet anyone’s eyes.

After Li Wu leaped into the carriage, Li Kun, with an air of self-evident understanding, seated himself in the driver’s position.

“You don’t need to do this — go on back.” Li Wu waved off the carriage driver who was standing bewildered outside.

“Where are we going?” Li Kun muttered.

His question was also Shen Zhuxi’s question.

“Cooped up in this house every day — one more day and I’ll be growing a heat rash.” Li Wu grumbled. “We’re going outside the city to ramble about in the hills.”

“Wonderful! Go steal bird eggs, catch moles, grill fish to eat…” Li Kun’s face lit up with excitement, and he gave a loud, enthusiastic slurp of anticipation.

With their destination decided, Li Kun flicked the reins, and the carriage slowly set off in the direction of the city gate.

Li Wu tipped over onto the cushioned seat and lay down, settling his head in Shen Zhuxi’s lap.

“Are you very tired?” Shen Zhuxi gently stroked his hair.

“Not tired.” Li Wu looked up at her. “…Just a little stifled.”

Shen Zhuxi watched him quietly.

Li Wu closed his eyes and quietly let himself feel the gentle caress against his head.

“When I’m with you, it’s the only time I feel I can breathe.”

…

The swaying of the carriage gradually came to a stop.

Li Kun leaped off the carriage and ran straight to a nearby stream, crouching down to scoop up water in his hands and drink. Li Wu pushed open the carriage door and jumped down first, then helped Shen Zhuxi down after him.

Shen Zhuxi looked around in all directions. The surroundings were lush and verdant, the air was clean, and the setting was certainly beautiful — but it was empty and open apart from grass and trees, and after getting off the carriage Shen Zhuxi didn’t quite know what she was supposed to do.

“Why are you just standing there? Come help find something for lunch.” Li Wu said.

Shen Zhuxi hurried over.

“Find what?”

“The wild mushrooms right now are wonderfully fresh. We can grill them to eat later.” Li Wu kept his eyes on the ground as he scanned the surrounding earth, and called out, “Diao’er, catching fish is your job.”

Shen Zhuxi was just about to say they had no fishing rods to fish with, when Li Kun — already wading in the stream with his trouser legs rolled up — smacked his palm down into the water and sent a palm-sized fish wriggling up onto the bank.

…She had been overthinking it.

Shen Zhuxi gathered up her skirts and followed Li Wu into the forest where the soil was damp.

The clean air after the rain hung in the verdant depths of the rinsed forest, birds sang out clear and bright in the leafy canopy, and now and then a squirrel dragging a big fluffy tail darted past, while the leaves rustled softly one against another.

After the Start of Spring, the wilds were everywhere filled with gifts from heaven and earth.

Li Wu was the first to discover a cluster of wild mushrooms growing together. He crouched down and dug them out by hand, and heedless of the soil still clinging to them, tossed them into his second-rank official robe which he bundled up to use as a carrier.

He focused on picking from a single spot, yet remained oblivious to another cluster of mushrooms not far off.

“Why didn’t you pick those mushrooms over there?” Shen Zhuxi couldn’t help asking.

“Poisonous.” Li Wu said with economy.

“They don’t look any different.” Shen Zhuxi said curiously. “How do you tell which are poisonous and which aren’t?”

“Simple,” Li Wu said. “First, find a mushroom. Second, open your mouth. Third, call out ‘Li Wu—'”

Shen Zhuxi blinked, then understood — this was his usual nonsense.

“I’m asking you seriously!” she said.

“I’m answering you seriously too.” Li Wu looked up. “Except when I’m with you, don’t eat wild mushrooms outdoors.”

He said without any patience, “I’m not interested in becoming a widower while I’m still young.”

Though he didn’t teach her how to identify poisonous mushrooms, Li Wu did show her several kinds of edible wild fruit.

Shen Zhuxi looked around eagerly, joining the foraging with high spirits, and before long had picked a dozen or so ripe, yellowing fruits which she tossed into Li Wu’s bundled official robe, sighing with feeling, “This reminds me of the time two years ago on the Dragon Boat Festival, when you took me up the mountain to gather thoroughwort.”

Back then she had slipped and fallen down a slope, and had stumbled upon a male corpse. The thoroughwort they gathered Li Wu made into a sachet, and it was also from that time that she had begun to misunderstand the relationship between Li Wu and Fan Sanniang. Although it seemed to have happened not so long ago, on reflection it had already been the year before last.

Following the memory of gathering medicinal herbs at the Dragon Boat Festival, she thought of Li Wu’s little riverside cottage.

“I wonder if that bamboo house where we used to spend the summer is still standing…” she sighed.

After the floods, Jinzhou had been inundated, and that bamboo house had likely long since ceased to exist.

Li Wu was just about to speak when his expression abruptly changed. He pulled out the knife at his waist and flung it.

A rustling thud — a gray-white rabbit toppled over in the underbrush.

“We have rabbit for lunch.” Li Wu got up and walked over.

After tucking the rabbit — now breathless — into the bundle, the two of them went on to find wild greens and tender bamboo shoots. On the walk back, Li Wu caught sight of a nest of wild bird eggs with his sharp eyes.

Li Wu nimbly scaled the tree trunk and climbed up, and under Shen Zhuxi’s earnest protests, took only as many eggs as there were people in their party and put the rest back.

When they returned to the stream, seven or eight fish the size of Li Kun’s palm were already lying on the bank.

Li Wu called Li Kun up out of the water, then with practiced ease set a fire and cleaned the fish. Shen Zhuxi couldn’t manage the work of clearing out the innards, so she stood by eagerly waiting to help skewer the cleaned fish. Li Wu gave her a sideways glance and pushed her aside:

“I’m not dead yet. Since when do you need to do the work?”

He turned and tossed the cleaned raw fish along with some forked sticks to Li Kun. “Why are you standing there? Lost your appetite for fish already?”

Li Kun, who had been hoping that catching the fish meant he could now wait around for a leisurely meal, climbed to his feet with a sullen, put-upon expression.

“Don’t just skewer the fish — remember to add some mushrooms too. That way it’ll be more fragrant when it grills.” Li Wu called after him.

“Oh—” Li Kun’s answer trailed out, long and unenthusiastic.

The fire was lit, the fish were grilling, and the fragrance slowly began to drift out.

Sizzling fish oil dripped down the forked sticks and fell onto the plump, rounded mushrooms below. Before long, the fragrances of mushroom and fish mingled together, and Li Kun let out a loud, appreciative swallow of saliva.

After about the time it takes an incense stick to burn, the fish skin had turned a golden, glistening amber. Li Wu pulled out the sticks planted in the earth and handed the one with the most perfectly cooked fish to Shen Zhuxi, and the largest fish to Li Kun.

Shen Zhuxi held hers before her and blew on it again and again, then took a small bite. The crispy skin gave a light crunch in her mouth, while the simple, clean fragrance of the fish filled her palate. She held the stick sideways and took another small bite of the wild mushroom at the tail end — the plump, springy mushroom had soaked up all the fish oil, and together with the tender, delicate fish, the two merged in her mouth into the most natural and delicious harmony a meal could offer.

Shen Zhuxi was so satisfied that she let out a soft, involuntary sigh of contentment. She glanced beside her at Li Kun — he was already onto his second skewer of fish and mushrooms.

When the three of them had finished the grilled fish, the rabbit was about done as well. Once again it was Li Wu who divided the portions — Shen Zhuxi received four legs, Li Kun received the whole body, and Li Wu gnawed on the rabbit’s head.

Shen Zhuxi, on the pretext of not being able to eat any more, made no argument as she returned one of her rabbit legs to him.

“It would be nice if Third Brother were here…” Li Kun suddenly said.

Neither Li Wu nor Shen Zhuxi said anything. They were both thinking the same thing.

It would be nice if Li Que were here.

Then it truly would have been no different from the days in Yutou County.

After they finished the grilled rabbit, Li Wu put out the fire and buried the three bird eggs in the embers.

While they waited for the eggs to steam through, Li Wu lay down on the sun-warmed river stones with his head in Shen Zhuxi’s lap, half-watching Li Kun wolf down his food, his eyelids growing slower and slower with each blink.

“I’ll sleep for a bit,” Li Wu said.

“Alright.”

Shen Zhuxi extended her left hand and gently stroked his dark hair.

Wisps and threads of curling cloud drifted under the wind’s gentle push, slowly gathering toward the far reaches of the sky. Scattered petals of cloud, like silver anemones in bloom, filled the entire expanse of deep blue above.

Beneath the sea of blossoms, Shen Zhuxi squinted at the slowly westering spring sun, her hand softly stroking the smooth dark hair of the one she loved, and from the depths of her heart she prayed that such peaceful, tranquil days might last forever.