Relishing the rare opportunity to speak with Hua Zhi at such ease, Gu Yanxi continued on from the same thread. “I have a feeling that Bai Mingxia may not go on enduring things indefinitely.”
“He is an intelligent man. He won’t do something that harms the enemy by a thousand only to wound himself by eight hundred.” In a society that took the clan as its fundamental unit, a single individual could accomplish little on his own. The power of the clan was simply too great. If Bai Mingxia were to act against the clan’s interests, he too would lose the ground beneath his feet.
“But what if every step he retreats only invites the other side to push further?”
Even clay figures have three parts of fire in them — if it were her, she would simply make sure no one came out of it well. Hua Zhi propped her head on one hand, while with the other she gently stroked Linying, whose head kept nosing its way in through the window.
Sunlight streamed in through the window, bringing a hint of warmth where it fell on her skin. The sounds of the street — all manner of life — drifted to her ears in a blur, now distant, now near. Hua Zhi found herself thinking, quite suddenly, that this kind of life, so full of the mundane and the human, was actually not so bad.
There was no such thing as freedom — not the kind she had once known. No dazzling array of diversions, no convenient means of travel. Even one’s life lay in the hands of the sovereign. And yet Hua Zhi still felt it was not so bad. At least here, there were people she held in her heart, people she was wholeheartedly willing to shelter and protect.
Gu Yanxi gave a quiet press of his heel to the horse’s flank, drawing Linying a little closer. He accepted a paper-wrapped parcel from his attendant and passed it through the window. “These are the Yunlai Restaurant’s signature pastries. Try one and see which you prefer — these, or the ones your maidservant makes.”
Hua Zhi had always loved good food at her core. In her previous life, no matter where she traveled for work, she would always carve out time to sample the local cuisine. And she had been born with a gifted palate — one taste, and she could usually identify nearly all the ingredients.
Her verbal guidance paired with Fu Dong’s nimble hands — mistress and maidservant together, over the years, had truly produced no small number of wonderful dishes. The snacks of Green Moss Lane were nothing by comparison.
The pastries were finely presented — small, each piece — golden and crisp on the outside, clearly having been fried. When she bit into one, juice ran out. It was… peach flesh? She ate another: this one, unexpectedly, held pine nuts…
Each one held something different inside. Hua Zhi thought she began to understand how someone had once come up with the curious five-kernel mooncake. Where food was concerned, the five thousand years of Chinese civilization had always truly understood the essence of it.
The flavor, however, was genuinely good.
Hua Zhi lifted the front curtain of the carriage. “Xu Jie, go back to the Yunlai Restaurant and buy some more of these pastries.”
Xu Jie turned back with a look of difficulty. “Eldest young miss, the Yunlai Restaurant does not sell its pastries for takeaway.”
The horse’s head at the window was pushed aside. A large hand with evenly proportioned knuckles appeared, dangling a string of paper-wrapped parcels back and forth.
Ten thousand emotions welled up in Hua Zhi’s heart, and one by one she pressed them all back down. She accepted the paper parcels and said quietly, “Master Lu is always one step ahead of me.”
Because I know what you’ll like. Gu Yanxi patted Linying, who had turned its head back to snort at him, and gave himself an understated pat on the back. “My master carries considerable face — enough to buy them.”
Hua Zhi thought of the man in that rainy night, his face hidden behind a mask, long bow in hand. She did not know for what reason he saw fit to make no move against Master Lu and Shao Yao in their dealings with the Hua Family.
“Personally, I think that though these pastries are a novelty, they are not as good as what your maidservant makes.”
“Each has its own character. If these pastries were slightly improved, the flavor would be better still. I’ll have Fu Dong make some adjustments, and then send them to Uncle Bai as a token of thanks.”
“The Yunlai Restaurant’s pastries are about to become even more renowned.”
The two of them talked back and forth like old friends, one remark at a time, until the carriage rolled to a stop at the East Side Gate.
Hua Zhi had barely stepped out of the carriage when she saw Liu Xiang come hurrying out from inside — the scene almost like a repeat of that day she had returned from the Northern Territories. Her heart gave a sudden lurch.
“Eldest young miss, Madam’s eldest brother has come.”
The tension in Hua Zhi’s body gradually eased. She turned back and gave a deferential bow to Lu Yanxi. “When the pastries are ready another day, I will certainly send Master Lu the first taste.”
Gu Yanxi, watching the relaxed smile at the corners of her lips, nodded and said, “Good.”
The eldest son of the Zhu Family, Zhu Haocheng, was approaching forty years of age and appeared quite refined in bearing. With no elders present in the Hua Family household, he had not even gone to his younger sister’s rooms. When told that his elder niece had stepped out, he had a servant show him to the front courtyard, and from there followed the sound of voices to the clan school on his own.
He did not draw near, but stood beneath the covered walkway and listened for a while. Bailin’s voice was easy to recognize — still carrying traces of a youthful lilt, yet without any of the naivety youth usually carried with it. The most mischievous boy of the Hua Family had, through all the upheavals, finally steadied himself.
After listening for a time, he noticed that Bailin was not simply reciting passages by rote — he was actually citing classics and drawing on examples to help those students understand the meaning. Whether they had memorized it yet he could not say, but that they had understood it was beyond question.
When had the teacher the Hua Family employed ever taught this way? All their teachers had always been models of strict and rigorous instruction. So where had Bailin learned to do this?
Zhu Haocheng’s mind suddenly flashed to something his father had said. Could it be that this was…
Footsteps sounded behind him. Zhu Haocheng turned and saw the very person he had just been thinking of approaching at a steady pace.
“Zhi pays her respects to Great-Uncle. I have kept you waiting long.”
Zhu Haocheng gave a slight motion as though to help her up, then clasped his hands behind his back and walked outward. “I only arrived a short while ago.”
Hua Zhi and Zhu Haocheng went to the study. The bookshelves were still more than half empty, yet everything else that ought to be there was present without exception.
Hua Zhi personally prepared the tea, then took a seat in the lower position. “Today is not a day of rest — how did Great-Uncle come to be here?”
“I can come whenever I like.”
And indeed he could — it was simply a matter of whether one had that inclination. Hua Zhi smiled, and felt a genuine warmth toward her great-uncle begin to stir within her.
Zhu Haocheng noticed the chess set tucked to one side. “A game?”
Hua Zhi naturally would not refuse. She wished to borrow the Zhu Family’s influence, yet she equally did not wish to place the Hua Family beneath the Zhu Family. A misalignment in positioning would affect the feeling between the two families — yet the Hua Family was undeniably at a disadvantage right now, and she needed to find a way to reverse it. If her great-uncle was willing to play, it was, in fact, quite opportune.
Chess revealed character. She would simply let her great-uncle take a good look.
Hua Zhi’s skill at chess was such that she could force even old Master Hua to a draw. Hua Yizheng and Zhu Bowen were evenly matched, and Zhu Bowen, giving a three-stone handicap, might not necessarily beat his third son Zhu Haocheng. The outcome was easy to imagine: on the board, a black dragon coiled dominantly across it, while white’s position had already collapsed beyond recovery.
Even when the final outcome was beyond doubt, Hua Zhi did not yield so much as half a stone — she cut Zhu Haocheng’s white pieces down until they were scattered in complete disarray.
Zhu Haocheng smiled ruefully and conceded, setting down his stones. For a moment he found he couldn’t even summon the embarrassment one usually feels at losing — the gap between them was simply too enormous.
“You should go play a game with your maternal grandfather someday. Ever since old Master Hua left, he subjects me to this every day at home. With an opponent like you, he’ll certainly be pleased.”
“I cannot allow myself to be underestimated. I can only play with everything I have.”
Zhu Haocheng sighed. He could understand what his niece meant by doing this — though her method was rather merciless. “Your maternal grandfather sent me to speak with you about the current situation in the capital. Let me first ask you — how much do you know of the capital’s situation, and what aspects would you most like to understand?”
“What I know is only what my maternal grandfather told me — that the Feng Family and the Wei Family have old grievances with the Hua Family. Beyond that, I know nothing. I didn’t need to know these things before, and by the time I did need to understand them, I didn’t know where to begin. I ask that Great-Uncle tell me everything you can think of.”
Hua Zhi’s expression was composed and candid. “I once believed that the Hua Family could secure peace simply by closing its doors and living quietly. I later realized I was wrong. There are many people who have designs on the Hua Family’s name and standing — and to make use of the Hua Family’s name, they must rope in people connected to the Hua Family. Bailin is the first and most obvious target. I will not permit anyone to set their sights on him.”