The second floor was composed of private rooms, but the overall space felt remarkably open and bright. Green plants grew all throughout, with trailing vines and budding branches twisting around even the ceiling beams and rafters. In a world that had not yet thought to use living plants as decoration, this touch was both original and fresh — lending the ancient wooden structure a sense of spring that was almost tangible.

The Zhu Family’s old madam nodded approvingly as she looked around. She had every confidence in this granddaughter, but seeing it with her own eyes was another matter entirely.

The bead curtain at the doorway clinked, and Madam Sun emerged with the Sixth Prince at her arm. The two older women caught sight of each other and exchanged bows; the Zhu Family’s old madam said: “I had not expected to find you here, Shang Zhen.”

Shang Zhen was the old madam of the Sun Family’s given name from her girlhood. So few people called her by it now that she was briefly startled upon hearing it, before her face broke into a warm smile. “It has been quite some time.”

The two clasped hands and looked at each other. Whatever else needed to be said did not need to be said in words.

The others present offered their greetings to the Sixth Prince one by one. He received each of them with composed and gentle acknowledgment. Those who did not know better simply assumed he had accompanied Madam Sun, and thought nothing unusual of it. The Sixth Prince also deliberately kept some distance between himself and Hua Zhi, afraid of causing trouble for Hua-jiejie.

As the host, Hua Zhi dipped into a curtsy and said: “Today, let everyone be at ease. Elders in one room, brothers in another, sisters in another — does everyone find that agreeable?”

No young person wanted to sit under the watchful eyes of their elders — not the gathered young men of the great families, and not even the six young women, whose eyes were full of interest and barely-suppressed eagerness.

The old madam of the Zhu Family was, of course, fully behind her granddaughter. She seconded the arrangement at once: “Very well — I was just wanting to have a good talk with Shang Zhen.”

Madam Sun smiled and gestured warmly: “Shall we go inside?”

The two went in arm in arm. On the other side, Zhu Haocheng and his companions exchanged a glance and smiled, then ushered one another toward another room.

Without the elders present, the younger generation immediately grew lively. Zhu Ziwen called out: “This feels much more relaxed — shall we go as well?”

The Qin and Zhu families had long been on friendly terms, and those guests responded immediately. Lu Shuangrui, who had already received a quiet word from his family beforehand, readily agreed. Zhu Ziwen then extended an invitation to the Sixth Prince as well. Hua Zhi gave a discreet nod in his direction — letting the Sixth Prince make connections among them had been one of her purposes in arranging this gathering in the first place.

Since Yanxi had that intention for him, relying on a single maternal family too constrained to act freely was clearly not enough.

She caught Zhu Ziwen’s eye with a meaningful look; he winked back at her. She let the warmth show in her own gaze, then turned and whispered a few words to Ying Chun, before making her way toward the room where her great-uncle sat.

As the eldest son of Hua Zhi’s maternal family, Zhu Haocheng occupied the seat of honor and had maintained a convivial atmosphere on her behalf. The moment Hua Zhi stepped in, all three pairs of eyes turned to her at once.

Hua Zhi gave a curtsy, then stood straight and composed under their scrutiny, without a trace of discomfort.

“I believe the rumors now.” Qin Gongyang smiled, his eyes holding unmistakable admiration. “They are entirely accurate.”

More than rumors — the capital had by now opened up wagers over it, waiting to see which man might draw close to this beauty and win the favor of this thorny rose. Word was that no small number of young men from great families had entered their bets. Zhu Haocheng, as her elder, had known of it and slammed his fist on the table in anger — but there was nothing he could do. His own grandfather held great authority, but there was no shortage of young men in the great families whose standing surpassed his, and going to make a real dispute of it would only invite ridicule.

Still, who could be happy seeing a girl of their own family turned into an amusement? If the young woman herself had been the sort who delighted in such competitive attention, that would be one thing. But this one clearly carried the weight of an entire household on her shoulders, and lived more seriously than anyone — to have her dismissed so lightly as someone’s dinnertime topic was truly too disrespectful.

Thinking also of what his second brother was currently occupied with, Zhu Haocheng let out a quiet sigh in his heart. Whatever came, the Zhu Family would have to do more to share the burden.

An Guo Gong Shizi Lu Boxi was also studying Hua Zhi. The Lu Family’s situation was admittedly not in a good state — but had this matter not been brokered by Gu Yanxi, he would not have been sitting here today.

Over the years, there had been no shortage of people seeking to ingratiate themselves with the Lu Family in exchange for favor. The Lu Family had never accepted, and the reason, plainly stated, was that they simply had not seen the right fit. The Lu Family had not fallen to a point where they needed to trade on the influence of the Anguo Duke’s residence for wealth.

Hua Zhi’s establishment here, though somewhat distinctive, was not remarkable enough in itself to command his particular attention. What he valued was Gu Yanxi’s role as the intermediary.

That much at least indicated one thing: his nephew — that man who lived his life in deliberate seclusion — had some kind of connection to the Hua Family. Or more precisely, to Hua Zhi.

Compared to the business itself, he was far more interested in the story behind it.

Lu Boxi studied her. Neither he nor his father could believe that the child who had once been covered in blood, his hatred pushed nearly to the point of killing his own father, had truly let it all go so easily. He and his father had long suspected that the so-called life of quiet seclusion was nothing more than a facade.

Worshiping at the temple? He had a mother who had devoted herself to prayer for many years, and in the few times he had met his nephew, he had not sensed even the faintest trace of religious devotion in him.

If their suspicion was correct, he also wanted that already-solitary man to know: no matter when, the Lu Family stood behind him. And the very fact that he had brokered this arrangement showed that he had always kept watch over the Lu Family’s circumstances — and was now attempting to help resolve them. Was that not, in its own way, a sign of his care for the Lu Family?

Providing the Hua Family with a measure of protection? The Lu Family would give it.

“Is there anything you need the Lu Family to do?” Lu Boxi asked, direct and unadorned.

Zhu Haocheng and Qin Gongyang were both somewhat taken aback by Lu Boxi’s directness. The two exchanged a glance and turned their eyes down to their tea.

Hua Zhi sat herself in a lower seat with ease, facing the three of them as though before a tribunal, yet without the slightest disadvantage in bearing. “In business, what one seeks is profit. The Lu Family need only let it be known that the An Guo Gong’s residence stands behind this Food Hall — so that not just anyone thinks they can come and take a bite.”

“Only that?”

“Only that.”

Lu Boxi, seeing that she was not putting on a brave face, gave a nod. “If anything comes up, send word to the Lu Family.”

“Understood.”

Zhu Haocheng and Qin Gongyang now understood — the Lu Family were the backing Hua Zhi had secured. Thinking it through, it did make sense. The An Guo Gong had withdrawn from active affairs for many years and appeared to have no real power in hand — yet the title of An Guo Gong was still that of an old and established ducal family, one of only two in the Great Qing dynasty whose history ran as long as the dynasty itself. The depth of its connections was something few great families could match.

And the An Guo Gong’s family held a particular natural advantage: the imperial house owed the An Guo Gong a daughter. Over the years, His Majesty’s regard for the Lu Family had remained notably generous. The An Guo Gong’s grandson, moreover, had won the Emperor’s affection — even in his years of withdrawal, gifts continued to flow without interruption to the Shizi’s residence. Most telling of all: because the Shizi bore a dislike for Prince Ling, the Prince had not been permitted to participate in the imperial ancestral rites for several years running.

Regardless of any other consideration, as long as His Majesty reigned, the standing of the An Guo Gong’s residence was beyond anyone’s power to shake.

Yet the An Guo Gong’s doors had always been famously difficult to enter. Neither Qin Gongyang nor Zhu Haocheng could fathom how this Hua Zhi had managed to make that connection — and both found themselves looking at her a little more carefully than before.