The commotion had grown so large that the ripples it sent out were considerable.

The countless scholars who had come to sit the examinations lost all interest in their studies for a time, gathering in groups of three or five, and the central figure of every discussion was the eldest young miss of the Hua Family.

There were those who disliked her aggressive manner, yet those who admired her still made up the overwhelming majority.

They had long heard of the eldest young miss’s reputation, but no matter how much one hears, nothing compares to witnessing it with one’s own eyes. Did you see that? Did you see it? The eldest young miss actually subdued Lord Wei. He called her a shrewish woman? Hmph — was he truly suggesting, as the eldest young miss herself had said, that one ought to wait at home for a disgraced sister to return before it could be considered the proper thing to do?

They called the eldest young miss overbearing? If she were not overbearing, the Hua Family would long since have been devoured alive in this capital. She stood firm to protect her family, stood firm in the face of those who bullied the Hua Family, stood firm and charged into battle for her kin — what wrong was there in any of that?

And then there were the Hua Family children — all dressed in matching robes, ink still smudged on their clothes, clearly having rushed straight down from the schoolroom. What did that say? It said the Hua Family’s children had not forgotten their roots. And seeing how they rallied to shield the eldest young miss, one could only imagine how well she had raised them. With descendants like these, how could the Hua Family ever truly fall?

Even those who still held that a woman ought to place a man above all else could not help but concede that the Hua Family presently needed someone exactly like her. To put it plainly — sacrificing the eldest young miss alone yet preserving the Hua Family was a trade worth making.

And it was precisely because everyone knew she was the one who had willingly become that sacrifice that they could find nothing with which to reproach her.

What had set the entire capital abuzz naturally reached the ears of the Emperor within the imperial city as well — that man who had grown increasingly difficult to read with each passing day.

“Now this is truly interesting.” The Emperor, whose brows had been drooping languidly, broke into a smile. “How on earth did that nest of scholars in the Hua Family produce a daughter like this?”

Laifu no longer dared to guess at the Emperor’s thoughts. Hearing these words, he bent his waist even lower and did not venture a response.

The Emperor laughed twice more, then asked in an unhurried, leisurely tone, “We have heard that this Hua Family girl has earned herself the name of a God of Wealth — that she can turn stone into gold?”

Laifu smiled and chose his words carefully. “Whether she is truly so formidable, this old servant cannot say. This old servant has only heard that the few ventures she undertook this past year all turned a profit, and that she moved the Hua Family’s collateral branch from the east of the city down to the south, where they live to this day. Nor has this old servant ever heard of the Hua Family suffering any embarrassment on account of being strapped for funds.”

“Oh? She supports even the collateral branch?”

“Yes. There was previously a young miss of the Hua Family who willingly became a concubine to a young master of the Feng Family — those words came from the Feng young master’s own mouth.”

“A Hua Family girl, a concubine?” The Emperor’s smile grew faintly cold. “Is she not afraid of provoking Hua Jingyan back to life?”

Laifu lowered his gaze. “The eldest young miss of the Hua Family had already severed ties with her publicly on the very day she left.”

The Emperor found this rather unexpected. Both were younger sisters — the one who became a concubine was expelled from the family, while the one who was wronged was shielded at all costs. Quite principled, in its own way.

“We have heard that no small number of scholars have sent their calling cards to the Hua Family.”

The back of Laifu’s robe was already damp. Unable to discern what attitude the Emperor held toward Hua Zhi, he could only reply as cautiously as possible. “Yes. The eldest young miss sent back identical replies to all of them, setting a meeting with the scholars for the seventh day of the ninth month.”

The Emperor already knew the contents of the reply cards, having learned of the calling cards. The ninth day was the examination date, yet she had called a meeting for the seventh — Hua Zhi was no fool; she must know that the Hua Family no longer had the standing to host literary gatherings, and that in any case such gatherings had always been held after the autumn examinations. What then was her purpose? To gather goodwill for Hua Yizheng — and as a woman, no less?

No. She would not be so presumptuous.

The Emperor’s eyes gleamed with interest. He found himself almost looking forward to it.

An attendant came forward to report. “Your Majesty, Lord Wei has come to beg your pardon.”

“Do not receive him.” The Emperor frowned, then reconsidered and changed his mind. “Tell him We have faith in him, and that he should proceed as he sees fit.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Laifu’s heart gave a lurch. Which side was the Emperor favoring? To say he favored the Wei Family — this was plainly digging a pit for them. Yet to say he favored the Hua Family — that seemed unlikely too, and there was no apparent reason for it.

“Laifu, what would you say if We were to have this Hua Family girl earn silver on Our behalf? We are rather short of funds these days.”

Not knowing whether the Emperor was speaking in jest or earnest, Laifu could only follow along. “To be of use to Your Majesty would be her honor.”

“That is not necessarily so.” The Emperor laughed heartily. “Someone personally raised by Hua Yizheng is bound to have a temper as large as that old man’s own.”

Laifu bent deeply at the waist and did not dare reply.

Fortunately the Emperor did not continue down that line of thought, instead saying, “Send someone to watch what games that Hua Family girl is playing on the seventh.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Seeing no further instructions forthcoming, Laifu bowed and withdrew.

He had barely reached the doorway when the Emperor’s voice drifted out again, slow and unhurried. “Our Yanxi is never wrong. If anything goes wrong, the fault must lie with someone else. Laifu — remember that.”

Laifu’s heart hammered wildly; it was only by clenching that breath inside him that his legs did not give way beneath him. He stood there, not daring to move so much as a muscle.

“You may go.”

Stepping out through the door, Laifu leaned against the corridor pillar and still did not dare breathe too loudly. The Emperor had just warned him not to grow too close to the Shizi! The Emperor held the Shizi in high regard and would tolerate nothing that might in the slightest way damage the Shizi’s standing. The fact that he had seen fit to issue this warning at all was already showing him no small measure of grace.

He would need to find a way to pass word to the Shizi. He had originally intended to tell the Shizi that the eldest young miss’s talents had caught the Emperor’s eye — but now even that could not be said.

Laifu’s head snapped up. The Emperor… had he seen through something?

He swallowed hard, his back soaked through entirely.

Within the imperial study, the Emperor was still smiling — yet no matter how he smiled, he could not conceal the cold glint that lurked deep in his eyes. His Yanxi was good in every way. Whatever he found displeasing, he would naturally see to its removal himself.

Hua Zhi brought gifts and visited Chu Family’s medical hall, which she had not gone to in quite some time.

Dr. Chu looked at this young woman whose bearing had already changed beyond all recognition and did not know whether what he felt was more gladness or more sorrow. Had she not been left with no other path, how could she have become so unyielding? If the late Elder Hua could see her now, he would surely ache for her.

“Dr. Chu.” Hua Zhi dipped in a curtsy. “You look a little less well than usual.”

“Caught a chill the day before yesterday — a bit of a cough.” Dr. Chu invited her inside. “How is Elder Hua?”

“Very well. Grandfather also asked me to convey his gratitude to you — your medicine was of great help. This year I must ask you to prepare as much frostbite ointment as possible.”

Dr. Chu glanced at her. “Even if every person in the Hua Family were to use it every single day, what you brought would have been more than enough.”

“There are many people out there who suffer from frostbite, and very few with unscarred hands and feet.” Hua Zhi stepped over the threshold and took a seat inside. “That is actually part of what I wished to discuss with you today, Doctor. Your frostbite remedy is far superior to what is available out there. I wonder — would you be willing to sell the formula?”

Dr. Chu understood her meaning at once and reached casually for brush and paper, writing the formula down then and there. “No need to buy it — take it.”

Physicians of sterling virtue were not rare in this era, and Hua Zhi had no wish to taint such noble character with silver. She made a mental note that she would have to ask Shao Yao for a prescription later to offer Dr. Chu in return.

“I will see that this formula reaches General Wu’s hands, for the benefit of all in that region.”

Dr. Chu smiled. “To be of even small assistance to the soldiers on the front — that is this old man’s good fortune.”

“Your integrity does you great credit, Dr. Chu.”

“You once gave this old man that method of bringing down fever with liquor, and this old man was not so formal with you then, either.”

Hua Zhi had never been one for ceremonial pleasantries, so she let the matter rest there without another word.