Jiang Huanran leaned toward him. “You wouldn’t be thinking of entering the Salt Administration, would you?”

“Why not?” Shen Qi looked at him. “I have confidence I can pass the Locked Hall Examination. With the Shen family’s connections, joining the Salt Administration as a low-ranking clerk is not something anyone could block.”

“Does your grandfather consent?”

“He will consent.”

Jiang Huanran found himself suddenly convinced that Shen Qi could do precisely what he said.

Enter the Salt Administration. Jiang Huanran thought of Hua Zhi, then thought of that attempt on her life. “Do you think — is there any chance I could enter public service?”

Shen Qi blinked. To prevent the concentration of power within any single family, Great Qing placed restrictions on official appointments — it did not permit multiple members of the same family to serve at court simultaneously. For this reason, it was common among noble families for only the eldest son to enter officialdom, with younger sons left to their own devices. This had begun originally because the eldest son, having received his father’s guidance for the longest time, could enter the court earliest to support the family. Over time, however, it had become an unspoken rule that no one violated — and one upheld all the more to maintain family stability.

Now that Jiang Huanran spoke of entering public service, he was effectively proposing to break this rule. As eldest son and eldest grandson himself, Shen Qi could not say it was right — but he could not say it was wrong either. From his father’s generation onward, it seemed as though noble families had all come down with the same affliction: a sickness of eldest sons falling short of their younger brothers. His own generation showed no signs of improvement; even the praise he received was no more than the tallest figure among a gathering of short men — relative, and nothing more.

If — if this rule were truly broken, would the court perhaps not be in such a state of dearth as it was now?

But once broken, family stability would suffer.

Weighing it all, there were merits and drawbacks alike. It came down to how one chose.

Jiang Huanran knew he had said something momentous, but in that moment he felt a fierce, burning desire to do exactly this. He did not want to be left behind. He did not want to spend his life as a worthless young lord who ate well and played hard.

“Impressive enough — I’ll simply disavow my own clan then.” Jiang Huanran’s eyes burned with intensity as he looked at Shen Qi. “Shen Qi — I am going to pass the Locked Hall Examination.”

Shen Qi looked at him, looked at that fire in his eyes — a Jiang Huanran he had never seen before, one he found no way to refuse. “If you can persuade your father, I’ll help you work through the examination questions.”

“No one can stop me.” Jiang Huanran rose and strode out without looking back, full of fighting spirit.

The remaining men looked at one another. So then — were they going to sit for it too?

Young Lord Chu straightened his sleeves. “I’ve also read my years’ worth of books. There’s no reason I should be outclassed even by a Jiang Huanran. Shen Qi — lend me a hand?”

“As if you’re the only one who’s read books. I’m going too.”

“Me as well — in his day, Old Master Hua even patted my head and said I was quick-witted!”

“Count me in.”

Shen Qi looked at them all, covered his eyes, and laughed. This — this was exactly right!

If enough people could be roused, if they could rise to the occasion, Great Qing would not fall to a point where there was no one of use.

Hua Zhi had no idea how great a change she had set in motion for Great Qing. She was listening to Chen Qing give his report on the situation outside.

“The rift between the Third and Fourth Princes has been long-standing. The Third Prince is well aware of what actually happened in this attack.” Chen Qing glanced at the young miss and continued, “When the rumors surfaced, the Third Prince assumed the Fourth Prince was using this incident to invite the Shizi’s retaliation against him. Furious, he went directly at the Fourth Prince without restraint. At today’s full court assembly, the Third Prince raised the matter openly before the assembled officials. The Fourth Prince naturally denied everything, and the two quarreled right there in the imperial presence. His Majesty was greatly angered and has ordered both of them confined to their princely residences — neither may leave without being summoned.”

“Have all traces been swept clean?”

“Yes. Our people were very careful. There will be nothing for anyone to find.”

Hua Zhi nodded. “Rein things in — but continue the investigation, pushing them to throw out more pawns.”

“Yes.”

Hua Zhi had long harbored a doubt. It was true she and the Fourth Prince stood in opposition, and it was reasonable that he would not want the Sixth Prince’s power to grow further. Yet as a prince of considerable ambition, however foolish he might be, he ought to have had strategists around him to prevent him from doing something this foolish. Moreover, the Fourth Prince’s reason for killing her was not sufficiently compelling.

First: she was the Emperor’s money-gatherer. The Emperor might not be fond of her, but he would certainly not welcome someone doing away with her. Furthermore, her relationship with Yanxi was now known to all. The lingering authority of the Seven Lodgings’ Commander had not yet dissipated — the Fourth Prince would not want to invite Yanxi’s devastating retaliation at a time like this.

It did not add up.

More than the Fourth Prince, she believed this to be Hao Yue’s doing. But what reason did Hao Yue have to collude with the Fourth Prince? Or rather, what reason did the Fourth Prince have to collude with Hao Yue? Hao Yue was now with child — by status, the two of them were natural enemies.

Surely they had not become complicit partners out of nowhere. Even if they had, there would need to be a shared objective, and both wanting the throne meant their goals could never align.

Hua Zhi pushed aside the bedding and got out of bed. Ying Chun started to say something, but a wave of her hand cut it short. “I’m not going outside. I just want to walk around a little.”

“Shao Yao will certainly scold you when she comes in.” Ying Chun hurried to fetch a wrap and drape it over her shoulders, then rushed to retrieve the hand warmer.

Hua Zhi watched her bustle about, her thoughts still turning over Hao Yue.

When a woman goes to extremes, she abandons all reason. Hua Zhi guarded against Hao Yue more than she guarded against any of the princes.

The sky had just begun to pale at the horizon. The city gates had only recently opened, and the last of those waiting to enter or leave had barely cleared through, when a company of over twenty riders came galloping in hard from outside the city. The sentries tensed and readied themselves — then the riders reined in sharply to a halt.

The Sixth Prince, riding at the front, lowered his hood. He looked up at the towering city gate and let out a long breath. The stiffness in his body and the exhaustion that had accumulated over the entire journey seemed, in that moment, to dissolve. It was only after actually traveling far from home that he truly understood what it meant to long for return — and only now did he so clearly feel that his roots were here.

Xiao Shuang, who attended at his side, rode forward to negotiate. In short order he returned. “Your Highness, we may enter.”

Once inside the city, Sixth Prince was in no hurry. He observed protocol and did not spur his horse. “I must return to the palace to report. You go to the Hua household. If the tutor asks anything at all, answer fully — there is no need to conceal anything.”

“Yes.”

Sixth Prince cast a glance in the direction of the Hua household. If it were possible, he would much rather go there himself and speak with his tutor in person.

But he knew — this was the hour of the morning court assembly. He had timed his return precisely.

He did not bother making himself presentable — travel-worn and dusty as he was, he requested an audience outside the hall.

The Emperor was at that moment directing his displeasure at the unruly parties in the princes’ dispute when word arrived that Sixth Prince had returned. His irritation instantly turned to pleasure. He transmitted the order to grant the audience.

Sixth Prince entered the hall holding high an oil-paper packet and prostrated himself at once. “Your son pays his respects to the Imperial Father.”

“Rise.” The Emperor’s gaze fixed intently on the packet. “Have you brought back good news?”

“Your son — has not failed the mission entrusted to him.” Sixth Prince raised the oil-paper packet even higher and stepped forward several paces. Lai Fu hurried over to receive it and moved swiftly up to the high throne.

“Open it.”

Lai Fu untied the cord and unwrapped the layers of oil paper one by one, revealing inside a fine, snow-white powder.

Lai Fu lifted his eyes slightly, caught the Emperor’s nod of assent, and pinched a little between his fingers to place on his tongue. His face lit with delight. “Your Majesty — it is salt.”

The Emperor could not contain his joy and tasted it for himself. So salty — could it be anything other than salt!

“Bring it for the assembled officials to taste as well.”

Not every official was as unfamiliar as the Emperor with what their everyday salt looked like. Those who saw the fine, white, pure crystals already understood the significance. If the yield were large — the Salt Administration reform could succeed.