For several days in a row, Shen Zhuxi was in low spirits.

On one hand, she worried constantly about Sister Zhou’s situation. On the other, she was trapped inside a particular fear of her own that she could not escape—

If she truly had no choice but to rely on Li Wu for everything, what would happen someday if Li Wu was no longer willing to support her?

This thought had taken hold of her, robbing her of her appetite and etching a furrow of worry between her brows.

“I’m full.” Shen Zhuxi set down her steamed bun — barely a quarter eaten — in a listless sort of way.

She was about to leave the table when Li Wu’s expression darkened.

“Full again? You’ve barely eaten anything for days.” He said. “Sit down.”

When Li Wu put on that stern look of his, it did carry some weight. Shen Zhuxi was not at all willing to obey, yet her own backside sat right back down in the chair of its own accord.

There were only the two of them at the table, but four small dishes had been laid out before them.

Li Wu rapped his wooden chopsticks against each of the four dishes in turn, his tone edged with frustration. “Rose fermented tofu, vinegared bamboo shoots, pickled radish, watermelon paste — all prepared according to your preferences. Four dishes for the morning meal, six dishes for midday, seven dishes for dinner. Even the county magistrate doesn’t eat as abundantly as you do in a single day. If you still can’t eat with all this, are you taking me for a fool?”

What he said was the truth, and Shen Zhuxi felt a prick of guilt. She picked up the bun she had set down and took a small bite.

Li Wu’s expression eased slightly. “Are you worrying about Sister Zhou?”

Shen Zhuxi gave a start and looked toward him involuntarily. “How did you know?”

“Who couldn’t tell what’s on your mind?” Li Wu said, dismissive.

He picked up a round, plump steamed bun, placed both hands on either side, and tore it open along the middle, leaving it split wide. The white, fluffy interior steamed as he pressed it open. He picked up his chopsticks and began spreading fermented tofu and watermelon paste inside, speaking in an unhurried, offhand tone:

“Every family has its own troubles that are difficult to speak of. There is precious little an outsider can do.”

Even so, Shen Zhuxi couldn’t quite reconcile herself to doing nothing. She couldn’t help saying, “Is there truly nothing that can be done to help her?”

Li Wu pulled one corner of his mouth slightly upward — a faint trace of mockery flitting across his face. Shen Zhuxi suspected she had imagined it; by the time she looked more closely, his expression had already returned to its usual state.

“There’s a saying, isn’t there,” he said lightly, still pressing vinegared bamboo shoots into the bun without lifting his head. “If a person has no will to save herself, even heaven cannot save her.”

Shen Zhuxi paused. “Those who help themselves, heaven helps; those who forsake themselves, heaven forsakes…”

“Right.” Li Wu still did not look up, continuing to tuck bamboo shoots into the bun. “Do you know why I rescued you?”

Shen Zhuxi privately acknowledged she did have one or two virtues to her name. Her calligraphy had been taught to her by her father the Emperor and by Fu Xuanmiao — it could not claim the stature of a true master, but it had its own character and style. She was skilled at the se zither; Fu Xuanmiao played the qin, and when he came to visit, the two of them would often play together in perfect harmony. But these were qualities Li Wu knew nothing of.

So why had Li Wu rescued her, again and again?

Shen Zhuxi hesitated, then ventured, “…Because I’m pretty to look at?”

Li Wu cast her a flat look. “You’re not the only person in the world who’s good-looking. Did I rescue all of them?”

“Then why?”

Li Wu closed up the bun, which was stuffed to bursting, and poked a bamboo shoot that was sticking out back into the seam.

“Because you never stopped trying,” he said. “When you were trapped in the bookcase, you bit through your palm rather than lose consciousness. When you were sleeping on the street, you swallowed your pride and pleaded with the innkeeper to leave a lantern on for you. When you encountered the beggars with ill intentions, you used your wits to redirect their attention. You cry a great deal, but crying is not all you do.”

He looked up, and his eyes met Shen Zhuxi’s directly.

Shen Zhuxi was still turning over what he’d said, and Li Wu’s gaze, as always, was bright and unclouded — without a shadow of darkness in it.

“You were weeping, and still you were fighting to stay alive.” He said. “That is why I rescued you.”

A warmth rose in Shen Zhuxi’s face. Perhaps she had turned red.

This was the highest praise she had ever received. More than any compliment on her beauty or her womanly virtues, these words made her heart soar.

Li Wu’s words gave her enormous courage. She burst out without thinking:

“Then can I go out and find work?”

“What would you do?” Li Wu’s expression remained calm, with no strong reaction either way.

His easy response emboldened her further.

“I haven’t decided yet… but I want to earn my own living.”

“Just don’t get cheated,” Li Wu said. “If you have any ideas, run them by me first.”

“Aren’t you afraid people will say you can’t provide for your wife?”

“When has it been any of their business?” Li Wu frowned. “Whoever dares run their mouth, I’ll shut them up fast enough.”

He was speaking the coarsest language she detested most, and yet she found herself smiling despite herself.

“Feeling better?” Li Wu shoved the bun he’d been stuffing into her hands, swapping it for the one she’d partially eaten. “Then finish that bun. If you don’t, everything I just said doesn’t count.”

He could be so impossible!

Shen Zhuxi’s cheeks puffed up at once. She glared at Li Wu. He paid her no mind. And so she had no choice but to make the effort and begin gnawing away at the enormous bun in her hands.

After breakfast, Li Wu left the house promptly. Shen Zhuxi was at home turning over ideas for what sort of work she might take on when Sister Zhou’s voice rose from beyond the bamboo fence. “Madam Li, are you home?”

Shen Zhuxi hurried out to the courtyard and pulled open the gate.

Sister Zhou stood outside, her face bright and smiling, looking well enough, her clothes as clean and tidy as always. Shen Zhuxi felt her shoulders drop with relief.

“Were you looking for me, Sister Zhou?”

“It’s like this — knowing you’re newly arrived in Yutou County and don’t know many people in the town, I took it upon myself to invite a few of the neighborhood women to gather at my house, so you can get acquainted. Would you be willing?”

Shen Zhuxi was delighted. “I should be thanking you — how could I possibly mind? Sister Zhou, tell me what I should wear. Should I change into something else?”

“What you’re wearing is perfectly fine. When you’re pretty, everything looks good on you,” Sister Zhou said, giving her arm an affectionate pat. “Your earlobes are bare — people will look down on you for that. Do you have any earrings? If not, I have a gold pair you can borrow.”

“I do, let me go put them on right away!”

Shen Zhuxi dashed into the inner room and dug through the little box Li Wu had given her, retrieving her own gold earrings and putting them in.

When she returned to the doorway, Sister Zhou turned her head this way and that in the sunlight, inspecting her ears with a satisfied expression.

“These are something special. Where did you get them?”

“They’re from the palace.”

“That explains it—” Sister Zhou smiled. “Wear these, and I guarantee no one can hold a candle to you.”

Shen Zhuxi scratched a line for Li Wu beneath the osmanthus tree and followed Sister Zhou to her house. As the Zhou house drew near, Shen Zhuxi began to feel nervous.

“When I meet everyone… what should I talk about?”

“Talk about jewelry shops, talk about clothes and accessories. If you run out of things to say, just compliment the other woman’s clothes, her accessories, tell her she looks young, tell her she looks fair. Once you’re better acquainted, you can compliment her husband, her children…” Sister Zhou spoke with easy confidence.

Shen Zhuxi listened attentively and nodded with great seriousness.

She felt reassured: so socializing among women in the common world followed the same general rules after all.

Sister Zhou pushed open the gate and strode inside, calling out warmly, “I’m back! Who’s winning?”

The two bamboo laundry poles that had been strung across the courtyard were gone. In their place, three bamboo mats had been laid end to end. A group of women sat in a circle around them, with several paper cards and a scattering of copper coins spread out in the middle.

One middle-aged woman with a rather unladylike posture slapped her cards down onto the pile of coins and dropped her right leg, which had been propped up, muttering irritably, “Who else would be winning? I quit! Every single time it’s Jiu Niang — are you cheating?”

The woman seated across from her was dressed in vivid colors and heavily powdered, clearly done up with some care. She gave the irritated woman a lazy, sidelong glance from the upturned corner of her eye, and said:

“What kind of talk is that? Everyone can see every move that’s made. What would I be cheating with? And besides — with that poor hand of cards you’re playing, why would I even need to cheat?”

“All right, all right, we’re only playing a game. Let’s not fall out over it.” Sister Zhou stepped in with a smile and smoothed things over.

The woman called Jiu Niang looked up and let her gaze travel over Shen Zhuxi — a measuring, scrutinizing look that swept back and forth several times without a hint of warmth.

Shen Zhuxi could not for the life of her recall when she might have offended this woman.

“You’re the Shen woman Li Wu married?” Jiu Niang asked.

Everyone in the courtyard looked over at Shen Zhuxi.

“Yes — this is Madam Li.” Sister Zhou said with a smile. “Madam Li has good fortune and a good heart. The very day she first came to my house, my sow delivered twenty piglets! And when that good-for-nothing son of mine came to demand money, Madam Li was right there, and one sharp ‘How dare you!’ from her sent him packing!”

Sister Zhou was exaggerating wildly. Something about sending him packing with one line… Shen Zhuxi’s face burned.

“Sister Zhou gives me too much credit — I wasn’t nearly that impressive…”

“Of course you were!” Sister Zhou said cheerfully. “You have no idea — the look you had at that moment was just like a princess. It was quite something!”

“Is that right?” The other women stirred with curiosity. “Zhou Zhuang is terrifying when he’s in a rage — all of us make a point of keeping out of his way. And you actually stepped up to protect Sister Zhou? No wonder she’s been singing your praises!”

Sister Zhou went around the courtyard and introduced each of the women to Shen Zhuxi. These women had no names of their own — most were identified only by a surname, followed by being called so-and-so’s wife. Shen Zhuxi did her best to keep them straight in her mind.

With Sister Zhou’s boundless praise and vouching for her, the women sitting on the bamboo mats warmed toward Shen Zhuxi considerably. While they pulled her over and asked her all sorts of questions, Jiu Niang — who had been pushed to the sidelines — drew out her voice and said:

“If I had a husband as capable as that, I’d dare stand up for anyone too.”

“Having a capable husband doesn’t necessarily mean you’d do the same,” Sister Zhou replied, cool and pointed. “Some people, even when they’ve come up in the world, only ever think about themselves.” Jiu Niang’s expression soured a little.

She muttered, “You’ve never even seen a real princess — how would you know what one looks like?”

Seeing the comfortable atmosphere about to be pulled into a standoff by Jiu Niang, Shen Zhuxi stepped in ahead of Sister Zhou:

“So you’re Jiu Niang?”

Jiu Niang gave her an arch look. “You know of me?”

“The name ‘wine beauty’ has quite a reputation — of course I’ve heard of it.” Shen Zhuxi smiled. “I was wondering what sort of woman could earn a name like Xi Shi’s. Now that I’ve met Jiu Niang in person, I see the name is well deserved.”

“How did you know the wine beauty was me?” Jiu Niang looked puzzled, and the contemptuous edge in her gaze softened.

The wine beauty ran a tavern and spent her days surrounded by jars of wine — of course she’d carry a faint, characteristic scent of it on her. And hadn’t Shen Zhuxi heard her through the fence, offering wine and food to Li Wu? Zhou Zhuang had also said that Li Wu paid no attention to the wine beauty and couldn’t look at Li— Putting these clues together, the woman before her could only be the legendary wine beauty.

Shen Zhuxi smiled. “It wasn’t my eyes that were sharp, sister — it’s simply that your Xi Shi beauty is too easily recognized.”

Jiu Niang brightened and became almost airy with pleasure. “It’s just those rude men who started calling me that as a joke. The name spread around, and now everyone calls me the wine beauty.”

From her seat at the outer edge of the mat, Sang Niang took the opportunity to say, “Madam Li, why don’t you come sit down and join a round? Have you played domino cards before?”

Shen Zhuxi shook her head. “I’ve only heard of it — I’ve never played. I’ll just sit and watch.”

Sang Niang shifted over to make room. “I don’t really know how to play either. We can sit together.”

“Jiu Niang, come play another round with me! This time I’m going to watch your every move!” the middle-aged woman announced.

“Come on then. You don’t frighten me.” Jiu Niang rolled her eyes.

The tension dissolved, the moment of friction vanishing without a trace.

Sister Zhou went to the kitchen and came back with a handful of fresh jujubes, distributing a share to each person before sitting down on the mat to join the domino card game.

Shen Zhuxi had only ever heard the palace maids speak fondly of domino cards — she herself had never played. Such games, too lowly for refined company, had no place in her world at court. She watched with considerable interest.

“Sister Zhou! Open the gate — I’ve brought a roasted chicken!”

A voice suddenly rang out at the bamboo fence gate, and Sister Zhou’s face broke into a broad, pleased smile.

“The little firecracker has arrived.”