The opening of Shi Zhai was no secret in the capital. Hua Zhi had no need to advertise — those young lords from prominent households had their eyes fixed on it already.
Hoping to steal a march on the others and be among the first through the doors, they came in quick succession after the red silk was unveiled and the string of firecrackers lit, arriving one after another as though racing to see who could get there first — walking at quite a clip.
Du Cheng, dressed neatly and impeccably, stood to receive them inside the courtyard gate. He appeared entirely unaware of the simmering undercurrents among the group, and offered them all a deep bow. “Allow me to inform the honored gentlemen: Shi Zhai accepts reservations only, and only for a single ingredient per booking. What dishes are prepared from that ingredient and by what method — that is entirely for Shi Zhai’s head cook to decide.”
Someone spoke up at once. “What do you mean, only one ingredient? I’ve come to eat — are you saying you won’t feed me?”
Du Cheng remained composed and unruffled. “Such are the rules of Shi Zhai. It is also what makes us distinct.”
“Rather interesting. Is this truly how you run a business open to the public? And what if the food turns out not to be good?”
Du Cheng led the group further inside. “Though we are not conducting business today, we would not have you make a wasted trip. A simple meal — we invite the gentlemen to honor us with your presence. If you find it satisfactory, you are welcome to return in the future. If you find it no more than passable, then there is no need to come back and spend your silver unnecessarily, is there?”
One of the men walking among the group suddenly spoke. “These are the rules set by the eldest young lady of the Hua family?”
Du Cheng smiled and nodded. “They are. The young lady says that all who come are guests, and that as Shi Zhai opens its doors for business, your presence here is your patronage. The young lady has asked me to convey her thanks on her behalf.”
Ah — so these were rules set by the eldest young lady. What more was there to say? One simply had to comply!
Shi Zhai was, in essence, a private club — a concept that had long since been worn smooth in later eras, yet felt refreshingly novel here. The green plants placed throughout would have drawn not a second glance anywhere else, but arranged within these rooms, even two branches simply twined together could catch the eye and linger pleasantly in the mind.
It was, on the surface, nothing more than a place to eat. Yet with this arrangement, it had come alive. More than one person found himself thinking: on days when one had no interest in visiting the pleasure houses, gathering here for a time might not be a bad alternative at all.
Today’s ingredients were pork and the large white cabbages most common in the north — one meat, one vegetable. Hua Zhi had calculated that few would come today, and she placed no restrictions on Fu Dong as to how many dishes to prepare — however many she wished to make was fine, even if that meant employing all twenty-eight methods of cooking.
Fu Dong had been in the kitchen since morning and had not been seen to emerge since. The room prepared for her had, in practice, become a place where Hua Zhi and Gu Yanxi met in private — so grumbled Bao Xia, though she was quickly hushed by Ying Chun. Even so, all the senior maids shared the same quiet worry. Their young lady and Master Lu were growing too close. Without a matchmaker, without betrothal gifts, they feared their young lady might be the one to lose out.
The two stood side by side in the shadows. Gu Yanxi gave a soft laugh. “Your maids are practically boring holes in my back with their staring.”
Hua Zhi turned her head slightly to one side. The man was standing very near her, and when he spoke, his breath fell warm against the curve of her neck — a little ticklish. “They’re already being very polite about it.”
If not for the fact that the habit of servitude had not yet been fully worn away, they would have long since rushed forward to put distance between them.
Gu Yanxi stifled a laugh.
Hua Zhi shot him a sidelong look and beckoned Ying Chun over.
“Young lady.”
“Stay here and hold things together. Whatever comes up, use your own judgment.”
“Yes.” Ying Chun glanced discreetly toward Master Lu. “Young lady, are you returning to the residence?”
“Before we came out, Little Aunt sent a maid with a message that she needed to speak with me.” Hua Zhi could already guess what it was about. She was not in urgent haste, but the girls under her relied on her too heavily — they could only truly stand on their own when she was not there. Among the five senior maids, including Liu Xiang, Ying Chun had the strongest ability to hold things together. With her here, nothing would go wrong.
She had too few capable people at her disposal. She herself had to step forward — but the maids she had cultivated could not always stand behind her as they once had.
Ying Chun’s expression visibly dimmed, but she replied compliantly. Their shared understanding among themselves was this: whatever happened, they must never become a burden holding their young lady back.
Hua Zhi patted her on the arm, then glanced once more at the young lords who were maintaining composed expressions as they surveyed their surroundings, and turned toward the rear gate. It came as no surprise that before she had taken many steps, the man had fallen in beside her on her left, shoulder to shoulder.
This unspoken form of consideration — she liked it very much. So when she boarded the carriage, she pulled back the curtain and offered an invitation. “Coming up?”
Gu Yanxi had no reason to decline and stepped up in one stride.
The carriage rocked gently forward. Gu Yanxi leaned against the carriage wall and looked at A’Zhi. “You anticipated that those people would come?”
“I have a maid who is very good at gathering information.” Particularly anything that touched on Hua Zhi herself — which was how, quite by chance, she had learned of the wager circulating among the young lords.
“I knew of it early and had originally intended to have the matter suppressed, but it had spread too widely. If I acted, I feared I wouldn’t be able to conceal it, and then who knows how many people would have turned their attention to you. Better to leave it alone and let them be — I assumed you wouldn’t mind.”
“Why should I? I should be thanking them for their patronage.” Hua Zhi was genuinely unbothered. As someone in commerce, what was wrong with becoming a selling point in one’s own right? A windfall that cost nothing at all.
Gu Yanxi felt quietly pleased with himself for knowing A’Zhi so well. He drew up one knee, propped his chin in his hand, and leaned toward her. “The Lu family sent someone around early this morning to deliver a calling card requesting a meeting.”
“To do with the Sixth Prince?”
“That will certainly be part of it, but there’s likely more besides. The imperial uncle has not been seen for some days now — civil and military officials alike are eager to know his true condition, and the Lu family probably hopes to learn something from me.”
Hua Zhi furrowed her brow and thought for a moment, then shook her head. “The Lu family should genuinely care for you to some degree.”
“There is genuine regard — but it isn’t only that.”
Hua Zhi understood his meaning. When weighed against the interests of a great family, everything else had to yield — that was the way of prominent households, and even within the Hua family it could hardly be avoided. She would need to accept that.
“Sometimes I truly wish I could set everything aside and simply go to the Hua family as a martial arts instructor.” Gu Yanxi took her hand in his and let out a long sigh. “But the imperial uncle has indicated he wants me to serve as regent for a time. Having walked the edge between life and death, he seems to have gained a kind of clarity — he even summoned the Venerable Boruo yesterday.”
Hua Zhi rested her chin in her hand and looked at him. “You’re worried he might rashly designate an heir?”
“If Xiao Liu were only three or four years older, I know I could bring things to fruition for him. But as things stand now…” Gu Yanxi shook his head, leaving unspoken his deeper fear — that the imperial uncle might be calculating something that involved him. Either the throne would pass to one of the princes while he was left to govern as regent, or it might be passed directly to him. He feared neither prospect, yet he truly, sincerely wanted no part of that seat of power. The mere thought of being confined within those walls for the rest of his life made him want to flee.
And besides — A’Zhi would not want that.
Looking at the woman seated across from him, her expression tranquil, Gu Yanxi thought: compared to that seat of power, what he truly wanted was to go somewhere far away with A’Zhi — to see the wide world that lay beyond.