Ever since the eldest young miss had suffered her head injury, if she slept poorly, her headaches would flare up. By the looks of it, the old ailment had struck again.

Xiangcao was deeply pained for her, yet had no choice but to wake her.

Once she had rinsed and washed, Luoyun drank a bowl of thin congee and sat by the window, letting the morning sun warm her face while she gradually roused her spirits.

Suddenly, from beneath the window came the cry of a cat. Knowing there were no cats kept in her own courtyard, Luoyun asked whose it might be.

Xiangcao cast a sideways glare at the cat strolling along as if it owned the place, and said, “It crawled out from that den of spiders next door — fed so plump and sleek, and now it has the nerve to come sneaking into our yard to steal the salted fish we’ve set out to dry.”

Su Luoyun, upon hearing this, walked out and, following the sound, gathered the cat into her arms.

The cat was obedient enough, allowing her to hold it without protest. As Luoyun smoothed its fur, she discovered it was wearing a collar — Xiangcao mentioned it had a little gold pendant hanging from it, which showed the cat was clearly a cherished favorite of its owner.

Luoyun stroked the cat for a while, then suddenly asked a question that seemed to have nothing to do with anything: “Is Emperor Xianzong’s memorial day coming up soon?”

“Ah?” Xiangcao opened her mouth, somewhat at a loss for words.

Luoyun continued, as if thinking aloud: “I remember Father once mentioned that one year, following the new year, because of the late Emperor Xianzong’s memorial day, the then-reigning Emperor Xuan, wishing to express his grief, decreed that the entire Wei court observe a month without banquets or music — which meant even a certain clansman’s full-month celebration for a newborn could not be held.”

This matter was simple enough to verify. While Luoyun was working on her incense blending at Shouwei Zhai, she took the occasion to chat with one of the old shop assistants, and her recollection was duly confirmed.

Upon returning home, she wasted no time composing a letter — and this letter was addressed to her new neighbor.

The letter, in its general tenor, offered gracious and indirect expressions of joy at the good fortune of being neighbor to the Shizi, while also subtly reminding the young lord that Emperor Xianzong’s memorial day had arrived. The reigning Emperor, she noted, still upheld the same custom as Emperor Xuan — observing a three-day fast whenever Xianzong’s memorial came around. She and her household, she wrote, would be honored to fast alongside the Shizi, as a shared expression of grief and reverence.

In short, so long as that Shizi was not a complete fool, he ought to understand the reminder: his late great-grandfather’s memorial day was upon them — he would at least need to put on appearances and restrain himself, and stop his all-night feasting and revelry.

Luoyun had been so desperately longing for a quiet night’s sleep that she had devised this scheme, hoping that the Shizi’s household might settle down for a few days.

She finished the anonymous letter and tied it around the cat’s neck.

After all, she was not residing directly on Qingyu Lane — the Shizi’s residence was vast, and the surrounding streets and alleys crisscrossed in all directions, with no fewer than ten neighboring households, many of them homes of court officials. As for this cat, it was clearly the wandering sort, apt to roam everywhere. No one inside the estate would likely know who had slipped the note around its neck.

There was nothing offensive in the letter — only reverence and mourning for the imperial family. It should not give anyone cause for anger.

And if fate turned capricious and some noble soul did take offense, there would be no way to pin it on any particular household. So she did not even bother to disguise her handwriting. After all, could anyone truly force a blind woman to write something for comparison?

Besides, Su Luoyun knew that this Shizi was not like other imperial relatives. His name carried weight, but he held no real power whatsoever. The fief of Prince Beizhen was famously barren — drought and floods brought poor harvests every few years without fail.

Those with eyes to see knew that Emperor Xuan of Wei had in his time pressured his own imperial nephew, Emperor Xianzong of Wei, into abdication, and only then taken the throne. Though he honored the late emperor in public gestures and earned a fine reputation for it, he harbored a deep wariness toward that branch of the bloodline.

Two generations on, the Beizhen line had produced no one of distinction — only a procession of mediocre figures who accomplished nothing. Each generation’s legitimate eldest son was required to be kept in the capital, where he would be idled into uselessness before being sent back to inherit that desolate land, there to live out his days as a harmless prince.

Understanding this, Luoyun was not nearly as wary of this prince — all title and no substance, a paper tiger of imperial birth — as the rest of the neighbors seemed to be.

The cat, for its part, proved itself more than capable. Having eaten its fill of dried fish, it padded back to the Shizi’s estate with the letter at its neck, and went to take a nap.

A servant spotted the letter and removed it, passing it to the steward, who forwarded it along until it reached Han Linfeng’s hands. Han Linfeng had been holding a night banquet the evening before and had risen quite late. Upon hearing that a cat had delivered a letter, he arched one of his sword-sharp brows, then opened the letter with his long fingers.

The contents were plain enough to understand. On the surface it was a show of concern for the late emperor; in effect, it was a tactful nudge that his recent indulgences ought to be reined in for the time being.

Yet as Han Linfeng studied that short message, its lines rendered in a neat and graceful hand, his gaze grew ever colder.

That script — he seemed to have seen it before.

For a moment, it was as if he could hear the rush of river water in his ears once more, and a slender white hand sweeping across the surface in flowing strokes.

Could it be that the one who wrote this letter — was the blind woman he had once encountered?

He rose to his feet in an instant. The first thought to flash through his mind was that he had been duped by that cunning woman — she was not blind at all, and what was more, she had recognized him. Now she had written this letter as a means of coercion.

His second thought was that the woman’s audacity was truly something else entirely — a provocation this brazen — who on earth was backing her?

His thoughts turning over swiftly, he waved over a page boy and asked whether the cat had been living at the estate for some time. Upon being told that the cat liked to roam about, he summoned his trusted aide Qingyang and instructed him to look into who lived neighboring the Shizi’s residence.

Qingyang understood at once. Before long, he had obtained a registry from an acquaintance at the office overseeing property deeds.

Han Linfeng went through it one by one, and his eyes came to rest on a newly added name — the Su household, Su Luoyun?

Qingyang remarked from beside him: “This household is right there in the lane east of the Shizi’s estate, backing up against the rear garden. I’ve made inquiries — they say it’s newly moved in. A blind elder sister living alone with her younger brother while he prepares for the examinations. My lord, is there something amiss?”

Han Linfeng made no reply. He simply rose, changed his clothes, and made his way to a teahouse at the entrance of the street.

Shortly after, a carriage emerged from Tianshui Lane, which adjoined Qingyu Lane. The tablet hanging from the carriage bore the insignia of the Su household.

Upon catching sight of the carriage, Han Linfeng stepped out of the teahouse and mounted his horse, keeping pace with the passing crowd, unhurried, following at an easy distance behind. After three streets, the carriage came to a stop in front of a fragrance shop.

Han Linfeng dismounted and strolled to the rear of the carriage, where he saw a maidservant help a slender young woman down from the carriage.

The young woman held up the hem of her gown, a dainty embroidered slipper peeking beneath the skirt — but the foot did not come down at once. She felt her way carefully, then slowly placed it upon the ground. From start to finish, her gaze remained fixed straight ahead, vacant and unseeing.

Han Linfeng was standing close enough to see clearly. This young woman was indeed the very same one from the boat that day. Her bearing was as graceful as ever, though she looked more wan — the shadows of fatigue evident beneath her eyes.

As she stepped over the threshold, Miss Su stumbled slightly, nearly losing her footing, which drew an aggrieved murmur from the little maidservant at her side: “What wretched people — holding banquets through the night and keeping our young miss from sleeping properly for days on end!”

She had not yet finished when Miss Su gently cut her off: “Mind your tongue from here on — such words could bring trouble.”

The mistress and maid did not notice the man standing behind the carriage. From those few snatched words, Han Linfeng had pieced together a fairly clear picture.

It seemed that his recent banqueting had disturbed his fair neighbor’s peace. Unable to sleep, the young woman had resorted to enlisting a cat as a courier to send her reminder.

As for Miss Su’s background, Qingyang had since made further inquiries and uncovered the full account — including how she had struck her head and, from the accumulated strain of the injury, lost her sight, forfeited her marriage prospects, and been sent off to the countryside.

Having heard it all, Han Linfeng confirmed for himself that this was the daughter of an ordinary merchant family, apparently without the connections or means to hold anything over him. Their two encounters seemed to have been nothing more than a quirk of chance.

Qingyang, walking behind his young lord, had also caught a glimpse of Su Luoyun, and could not help but be momentarily struck. Having laid eyes on countless highborn beauties, he found himself inwardly marveling — this young woman stepping down from the carriage truly possessed a kind of singular, indescribable allure and grace. It was a great pity that, watching her feel her way so cautiously, she appeared to be blind. Heaven truly was jealous of beauty.

Lost in this thought, he turned to find his young lord still gazing steadily at the young woman’s retreating figure. Surely, he thought, even he had not been caught by the charms of this blind woman?

He gave a self-deprecating smile, feeling he was letting his imagination run away with him.

His young lord, for all his outwardly wayward conduct, had his ambitions set elsewhere. He was not the sort of man to be ensnared by a woman’s beauty — much less a blind woman of merchant stock, who would likely not even be fit to serve as a concubine.

Qingyang would later learn of the cat’s letter as well. He did not know that Su Luoyun and the Shizi had once shared the same boat, but he thought the letter made sound sense — causing disruption to the neighbors was a trifling matter, yet with Emperor Xianzong’s memorial day approaching, the Shizi truly ought not to be hosting banquets any longer.

But Han Linfeng lightly drummed his long fingers against the tabletop and said: “The courtyard at the estate is a little cramped — not enough room to let loose. I’ve heard that a new tavern has opened at Yanwei Lake outside the capital, with a grand stage built for song and dance. Go book out the entire establishment, then invite some singing girls from the pleasure houses of the capital. I intend to host a banquet there for several top-ranked cuju players I’ve brought in at considerable expense.”

Qingyang stared, listening, and felt his lord’s behavior was truly beyond comprehension. With Emperor Xianzong’s memorial day just around the corner, how could he carry on in such a manner?

Yet he also knew that his young lord was in truth a man of deep and inscrutable thoughts. Whatever he was doing, there was surely a purpose behind it.

And so, after his attempts at dissuasion came to nothing, Qingyang sighed and went to carry out his instructions.

As for Su Luoyun — from the day of the cat’s delivery onward, she truly heard no more of that vexing music. She was at last able to sleep through the night.

It seemed that the spirit of the late Emperor, watching over them all, had finally reined in that wretched descendant of his, who no longer dared to revel shamelessly from dusk till dawn.

With her nights now restful, she found her daytime work on the incense blends going smoothly and with ease. The only irritation was that every time she blended at the shop, the old man Feng was like a blowfly on rotting meat — impossible to chase away no matter what she tried.

Luoyun understood: old Feng had certainly been instructed by her father to extract the secret incense formulas from her hands. She did not need to put on a cold expression and drive him off — she simply claimed the inner room of the shop was stifling and had her maidservant remove her outer robe, so that she worked at her blending in only a thin inner garment.

With that, old Feng had no plausible excuse to step into the fragrance room, and could only wait outside for the eldest young miss to present the finished product.

When a small crock of fragrant ointment had been blended, old Feng gathered several of the master blenders to cluster around the little porcelain crock, studying its color and sniffing it carefully. After thorough examination, though they were able to identify several of the ingredients, they still could not determine what method the eldest young miss had employed — to have fused pear blossom and floral notes together with such remarkable subtlety and skill.

After all, different techniques in steaming and processing fragrance materials can profoundly alter the final scent. Sometimes such a method was like a window covered with paper — one could sense it just beyond reach, yet never quite break through.

When Su Hongmeng received old Feng’s report, he was so incensed that he struck his jade-mouthed water pipe hard against the cloisonné spittoon several times: “All these cunning tricks! Whoever did she take after?”

The late Hu Shi had never dared withhold anything like this. In her time, the five incense formulas she had blended were copied out in full and handed over to him without reservation. How was it that this wretched girl, after losing her sight, seemed to have grown several more turns of cunning?

Ding Shi, who stood to one side attending to the master’s tea, spoke in soothing tones: “I see that Luoyun now places great importance on money. You mentioned before giving her a share of the profits at year’s end, but she can’t wait that long — she keeps sending Nanny Tian over to ask for silver. Understandably so, since the steward inspected her courtyard and there is a great deal that needs repair. Yet Caijian is about to be married, and your affairs at court have been calling for much entertaining of late, my lord — there are demands on the household funds from every direction. The other day I told her that we were temporarily short of funds and couldn’t produce the money for the repairs just yet, and asked her to wait a little. But she seemed displeased, and now suspects I am deliberately making things difficult for her. Would it not be better, my lord, to allocate her a larger share of the profits?”