Common people lived in poverty. At home, watery gruel was the staple most days, with proper cooked rice a rarity, and meat something reserved for festivals and new year celebrations. When word spread of this arrangement, everyone who heard it was immediately tempted.

It was not yet the busiest farming season either, so far more people answered the call than anticipated. Even working out in the rain held no fear for anyone — it was summer, after all.

Almost the entirety of Xiangyang County was set in motion, the energy crackling and alive.

The rain came and went. The river showed no sign of retreating. Gu Yanxi’s scouts, sent to observe conditions upstream and downstream, all returned. Upon learning that the situation upstream was no better than Xiangyang’s — and that no water reports had been sent out all along — he did not fly into a rage as Shao Yao might have. Instead, he submitted the matter up through the proper channel to the acting regional governor of Jing Prefecture, Song Qi, and let him handle it.

Along with that submission went a detailed account of Xiangyang magistrate Chen Hong’s offenses — and a recommendation that Xu Yangjun be appointed in his place.

Having arranged all of this, Gu Yanxi had no intention of lingering further in Xiangyang. “Jing Prefecture’s flood season can stretch all the way to the ninth month. We have done what we came to do — there’s no need to stay. I plan to make a trip to Lingzhou County to see what the situation is like there.”

He paused, then added: “Wu Xing has worked out the formula for the black powder. The force of it… is considerable.”

Hua Zhi’s heart sank, but her face remained calm. “Good for blasting open mountains and digging channels, then.”

“…Indeed. Will you come with me?”

“I’d just be in the way — this isn’t my area of expertise. There ought to be specialists in the Ministry of Works for exactly this sort of thing.”

Gu Yanxi shook his head. “We’re only going to take a look at Lingzhou’s situation. Move those people out in advance and get them settled somewhere proper. Hao Yue’s words can’t be entirely trusted — but they can’t be entirely dismissed either. She used that prediction precisely to prove her worth; she wouldn’t throw a stone at her own feet. If she truly knew the Xiangyang breach was a possibility, preparations of some kind need to be made in advance.”

Hua Zhi understood. Digging a channel wasn’t something achievable in the near term — but if Lingzhou could be properly used to ease Xiangyang’s danger first, that was not impossible.

Thinking of Hao Yue, Hua Zhi found her thoughts drifting further. “In telling you all of this — was Hao Yue hoping you’d find a way to avert the disaster in Xiangyang?”

“She’s not that noble-spirited. My guess is she assumed that even if she told me, I couldn’t solve it. She said August — but not which specific day. Xiangyang is vast, and she didn’t say where the breach would be. Was I supposed to drive tens of thousands of people from their homes?”

A flash of insight sparked in Hua Zhi’s mind. “She was waiting for you to come and beg her?”

“If your solution hadn’t existed, I might very well have had to.” The coldness drained from Gu Yanxi’s expression and his voice softened. “Will you come with me to Lingzhou?”

Hua Zhi was never one to respond to pressure but always melted under gentleness. When Yanxi spoke to her like that, how could she refuse? Heading north a little later wouldn’t really matter — it wouldn’t set anything off course.

Going by water was no longer an option. Hua Zhi had Xu Ying go settle the remaining payment with the boatman. After packing up, they were ready to set off at first light the following morning. Jiang Huanran wanted to come along but was firmly refused by Gu Yanxi — he was bundled into a carriage and dispatched back to the capital, not even given a chance to say farewell to Hua Zhi.

Hua Zhi didn’t mind. They were both in the capital; there would be other opportunities. The Jiang Family and the Hua Family were not political rivals, and drawing the Jiang Family into her orbit was not out of the question.

The rain had stopped the night before, and the next day dawned brilliant and clear. Shao Yao had Bao Xia with her; Xu Ying was with Yu Tao; and Hua Zhi, naturally, rode with Gu Yanxi. With everything in order, they came out through the main gate — and found that someone was waiting outside.

It was Xu Yangjun.

Hua Zhi assumed he had come to find Yanxi, so she stepped to the side after descending the steps and waited.

But Xu Yangjun walked toward her. He stopped three paces away, clasped his hands, and bowed. “Greetings, Miss Hua.”

Hua Zhi was mildly startled. What was he—

Xu Yangjun held out both hands, presenting a bulging bundle. “A small token of goodwill — I hope Miss Hua will not disdain it.”

Hua Zhi understood immediately. This was the second time she had felt, in a tangible and undeniable way, the distinction that the Hua name bestowed upon her. The first had been the day her grandmother passed — that scene would remain with her for the rest of her life.

These people had not all received direct favor from the Hua Family. Yet every one of them observed, as if by unspoken covenant, things that had been handed down by word of mouth — revering the Hua Family as the exemplar of scholars, and respecting it from the depths of their hearts. She had come as a woman, and still Xu Yangjun had sent her off with a proper farewell gift. What she received was the Hua Family’s shadow of grace.

Her heart turned over a thousand times. Hua Zhi reached out and accepted the bundle with her own hands. “This young woman thanks you, Master Xu.”

That was an acknowledgment of her identity. Xu Yangjun’s heart beat faster. These past many days, every moment of spare time he had, his thoughts had circled around the young miss’s identity. It was not as though they had harbored no doubts — the Xu Family’s cautionary example was right there before them, and they had worried that the Hua Family might end up in the same situation. Even if the Hua Family should one day rise again, everything the Hua name represented might no longer be what it once was.

Perhaps there were those who had rejoiced in secret, hoping to take what the Hua Family left behind. But for people like them — scholars — the Hua Family was irreplaceable. From the day they first learned to read and write, they had grown up on the stories of the Hua Family’s people, measuring themselves against the Hua Family’s standards. Even as they climbed step by step toward prominence, the Hua Family had always been there, steadfast as bedrock.

To put it with more weight: the Hua Family was the faith of scholars.

So when the Hua Family produced a young woman who handled affairs no less capably than a man — who kept the Hua Family standing when it should have fallen — who showed no sign of crumbling even a year after disaster struck — they had felt a joy that was hard to put into words. In letters exchanged with dear friends, they had spoken of it with endless feeling.

But he had never imagined he would actually meet her. And it was only after meeting her that he understood why she had been able to sustain a household as great as the Hua Family’s. The Hua Family’s daughter — of course she was exactly as she ought to be.

Xu Yangjun bowed deeply. “I hope Miss Hua takes good care of herself.”

Hua Zhi returned the bow with full solemnity. “This young woman is grateful for your kindness.”

Xu Yangjun immediately waved his hands in protest, his refined face flushing red. “I couldn’t — I couldn’t accept such a bow—”

Hua Zhi’s bow had not been for him alone. It was for the tens of thousands of scholars behind him. They had upheld the Hua Family’s integrity; in the days ahead, they would surely be pillars of support. And when her family returned someday, they would need that same support to rise from the depths once more.

Gu Yanxi mounted his horse and cantered over, reaching his hand down toward Hua Zhi.

Hua Zhi extended her hand, and with one smooth pull, Gu Yanxi drew her up and settled her in front of him.

Hua Zhi pulled her hood up and lowered her head. “Take care of yourself, Master Xu.”

Xu Yangjun stole a quick glance at the two of them — close, easy in each other’s company — and returned the farewell with clasped hands. “Take care, Miss Hua.”

Linying broke into a lead at the front of the party, and the rest followed closely. The Sixth Prince rode at the rear. He looked at Xu Yangjun, whose expression carried a flickering undercurrent of emotion, and felt something complicated stir inside him.

The Hua Family had been ransacked and exiled by his imperial father. Yet out here, among the common people, among scholars — the Hua Family’s standing had not diminished by the slightest degree. They still held it in reverence and esteem. Because Hua Jie was the Hua Family’s daughter, even whatever dismissal people usually held for women had fallen away. This was the will of the people.

Imperial Father — did he know any of this?

Or was it… precisely because he knew all of this that the Hua Family had met with such misfortune?

The Sixth Prince didn’t dare to follow that thought any further. He urged his horse forward to catch up with the others.