Hua Zhi took the basket, folded back the oiled paper, and revealed two small sealed crocks inside. She opened them both, showing their contents — fried noodle crisps and dried pork slices. “These are what I have been preparing for this year’s autumn examinations. Cousin, please taste them for me — tell me if you think this way of eating will work.”

Zhu Ziwen’s eyes lit up. He had heard how grueling the examination halls could be; even with everything prepared, one came out having shed a layer of skin. His cousin had always had a clever, resourceful mind — this might actually be something worth trying.

He couldn’t wait. He picked up a piece of dried pork and put it in his mouth. Savory, with a touch of sweetness — agreeable. Good salt level as well. Delicious.

Then he picked up a pale white, twisted, curling piece of something else, turned it around a few times, and couldn’t figure out where to start.

“You can bite into it whole, or break it into smaller pieces.”

Zhu Ziwen, being the well-mannered sort, broke off a small piece and put it in his mouth. Savory. Crisp. Delicious.

But the flavor… “Noodles?”

“One way of making noodles. Do you think taking these into the examination hall would work?”

“It would work! Of course it would!” Zhu Ziwen had a sudden flash of inspiration. “You’re having scholars come on the seventh — is that because…”

Hua Zhi’s smile carried a hint of mischief. “I simply don’t want to give certain people what they’re hoping for.”

Zhu Ziwen had grown up in a family like the Zhus and understood the broader picture, and smiled faintly. “If the attention becomes too great, though, that might not be ideal.”

“I’m not giving them away — I’m selling them. The Hua family’s involvement in trade is no secret at this point; everyone who should know, knows. I’m selling a few goods — surely no one can hold that against me.”

Zhu Ziwen didn’t ask her the specifics of how she planned to do it. He took the basket, patted the lids back down on the crocks, and said, “This one basket doesn’t count as a proper trial — you’ll need to set aside another one for me when the time comes.”

“I will — I’ll put together a generous amount.”

Only then did Zhu Ziwen take his leave, satisfied. He wasn’t accepting something for nothing — he intended to make sure his cousin found this well worth her while.

She turned back around, and when she met her grandmother’s gaze, Hua Zhi gave a small smile. “You and mother go inside and have a proper talk — I still have a few loose ends to tie up.”

The Dowager Madam looked at this perpetually busy granddaughter of hers, then looked over at her own daughter, who was so much more carefree than the young woman beside her, and gave a long, quiet sigh. How had she raised a daughter like this?

Third Madam, who had recovered on the other side, hurriedly gave a respectful greeting to the Zhu Dowager Madam. The old woman said a few courteous words, then took her daughter’s arm and headed toward the inner gate. The others, seeing this, turned to look to the First Young Miss.

Were they asking her for direction? Hua Zhi startled slightly, then understood. “This matter is behind us now. Third Sister’s reputation is unharmed. Everyone go and attend to what you need to.” She paused. “Third Sister, stay a moment.”

The room breathed a collective sigh of relief. However curious each of them was about what had transpired, everyone knew this was not the moment. They drifted away in twos and threes toward the inner gate, and the children had already gone back to the school. Only Xia Shi remained close to her daughter, unwilling to move.

As much as the others wanted to hold back from asking, Hua Zhi could not — she needed to know every thread in this, who had been caught up in it, and whose goodwill had been incurred. “Third Sister, do you have the strength to tell me what happened?”

Hua Ling didn’t hesitate. She nodded.

Hua Zhi smiled. She liked Hua Ling a little more now. If what she had been through could make her braver than before, perhaps it was a misfortune that carried some small fortune within it. “Third Aunt, please join us.”

Xia Shi clasped her daughter’s hand tightly and followed close behind.

In the study, Ying Chun served tea and withdrew to stand guard at the door.

Hua Ling’s body was trembling slightly. Her mother assumed it was fear, but it wasn’t. She was trembling with the force of something still alive in her — her heart was racing and she couldn’t control it, and when she spoke, even her voice shook.

“I was near the city gate on the way back when I encountered Wei Chengxi. After he had the guards and Nanny Su injured, he had his men drive the carriage toward his estate outside the city. I refused to go along with it — I tried several times to throw myself from the carriage, thinking that even breaking my neck was better than being…”

Hua Ling twisted her fingers together. “He was like a cat toying with a mouse — never letting me succeed, but never taking away the hope of it either. Then someone blocked the carriage. It was a scholar, by the look of him, with a book-boy and a servant — the three of them. Wei Chengxi had so many men that they were no match, and all three were injured. At least Wei Chengxi knew enough to understand the moment we were in, and didn’t dare push it to killing blows — otherwise those three would have…”

Hua Zhi understood and nodded quietly. Had it not been the season of the examinations, having a few people killed would not have been out of Wei Chengxi’s reach.

“But it was fortunate they managed to delay things for a little while. When the estate was nearly in sight, Mr. Wang caught up. As for the rest — other than…other than being subjected to some verbal abuse, Wei Chengxi never had the chance to do anything to me. Elder Sister, I don’t know how badly that scholar was injured — if he ends up missing the examinations because of this, what will become of him?”

“Chunshan has already brought him and Nanny Su to Doctor Chu’s. I’ll prepare generous gifts and go in person to express my gratitude.” Hua Zhi rose and retrieved a large box from the cabinet, took out a few medicinal pills, wrapped them in paper, and set them aside. “Shao Yao made these — they help settle the spirit. You’ve had a terrible shock today, and tonight will likely be restless. Remember to take two before you sleep. It would be even better if you went and shared a room with Third Aunt for a few nights.”

Hua Ling took them and answered quietly. She no longer knew what else to say. She could only accept this care from her elder sister — offered without display, without announcement — and hold it quietly.

Beside her, Xia Shi had not stopped crying. Now a sob broke loose and she wept openly, halting and broken. “I sent my Nanny to beg help from the Xia family — and they were so heartless, they didn’t even let Nanny through the gate. How could they, how could they be so without feeling…”

“Because they can act without fear of consequences.” Hua Zhi lowered her head and sipped her tea. “If the Hua family never rises again, they lose nothing. And if the Hua family were somehow to recover and come back — as a married-out daughter, you would still need your family as your backing. However harshly they treat you now, could you truly cut ties with your family entirely? Understanding this, they can afford to be as ruthless as they like right now — what does it cost them?”

Xia Shi’s crying caught in her throat. The tears were still falling, but the sound went away.

“When I initially suggested everyone step back from contact with their families, it was also to preserve whatever warmth remained between you and them. When this passes and the Hua family rises again, your family ties won’t be lost — after all, families like the Zhus are rare.”

The reasoning was simple enough, but for a married-out woman, the dependency on her own family was something bred into her bones. The women of each household had kept some private contact with their families despite everything — and what they received from it was, almost without exception, disappointment.

Hua Ling glanced once at her elder sister — clear-eyed and composed as ever — then helped her dazed mother to her feet. “Elder Sister, I’ll take Mother back to rest.”

“The other things can wait. You rest as well — don’t dwell on it.”

“Yes.” Hua Ling took a few steps, then turned back. “Saying thank you feels too light. But I still want to say it. I’m so grateful to have you as my sister.”

“Good — I’ll take it.” Hua Zhi smiled and teased her. “I’ve almost forgotten what that Hua Ling was like — the one who was always trying to get the better of me.”

Hua Ling’s face flushed red. She turned away and led her mother out, and the speed of her footsteps was quite telling. Every time she thought about the foolish person she had once been, she wanted to vanish into the ground — she refused to admit, even to herself, that that person had been her.

Hua Zhi let out a quiet laugh, then a long, slow exhale. She let herself lean back against the chair and allowed herself, in this empty study, to come undone for just a little while.