Han Linfeng did not know either. Though he had heard that his charming neighbor had opened a shop, he had not known where the new establishment was located, let alone that he had happened to wander his way here.

Without waiting for Han Linfeng to answer, Guo Yan urged his horse closer to get a better look, and only upon drawing near and seeing the fragrance display shelves did understanding dawn on him.

Just as Guo Yan was about to ride on, he happened to spot Su Luoyun at the shop entrance, being steadied by her maidservant.

As it was the new shop’s opening day, Luoyun had deliberately worn clothing in a more festive color. In such a public setting, she had naturally also donned a veiled hat with a hanging gauze veil to conceal her face.

But the spring breeze was mischievous — it lifted the gauze veil with a flutter, just enough to reveal her features: the pink of her jacket set off her rosy cheeks and dark hair, like a face among peach blossoms in full bloom.

And at that very moment, one of the shop assistants addressed her as the proprietress.

On that rainy day at the roadside inn, Guo Yan had caught a glimpse of her and then fallen asleep drunk. When he woke, the skies had already cleared, and that beautiful Miss Su had long since departed for the capital in Han Linfeng’s carriage.

He had been somewhat rankled by his drinking companion going around him to curry favor with a beautiful woman, so it came as a surprise to encounter Miss Su here again.

Watching the shop assistant address Miss Su as proprietress, Young Lord Guo finally understood what she was about.

No wonder he had not recognized her — she was nothing more than a lowly merchant woman. And a seller of fragrances at that. No wonder she had some dealings with Princess Yuyang, who was practically obsessed with incense…

Once he had sorted this out in his mind, Guo Yan could not help shooting Han Linfeng a look — keeping this to himself so carefully, was he afraid of someone competing for the beauty?

Among the women surrounding Young Lord Guo, it was not only performers and dancing girls. He had a few respectable sweethearts from modest households as well.

Girls from humble families, though lacking the allure of entertainers, were indispensable for variety. A beauty like Miss Su — stunning in appearance, yet untouched by the vulgar air of the pleasure quarters — was a rare find of the finest quality.

In Young Lord Guo’s estimation, a merchant woman who went out in public every day was no different from a woman who leaned in doorways and sold her smiles. What was more, merchants were driven by profit — a woman of such low birth, upon making the acquaintance of a son from a noble family, would surely do everything in her power to ingratiate herself?

A beauty in the bloom of her prime was like a spring flower at its peak — offer her a few advantages, and she was there for the taking.

Buoyed by this hazy self-assurance, Guo Yan was the first to dismount, pushing ahead to greet Su Luoyun.

Luoyun had long since forgotten which Young Lord Guo was. It was only when he mentioned the episode of sheltering from the rain that she recalled — this gentleman was one of the disreputable companions at Han Linfeng’s side.

Guo Yan was still talking without pause: “I didn’t know Miss Su had opened a new shop — otherwise I would certainly have sent someone to set off several more strings of firecrackers. I wonder what Shou Xiang Zhai has that might suit me?”

Su Luoyun pulled her veil more securely around her face, bowed her head in a courteous gesture, and said: “It is nothing more than an ordinary fragrance shop — a modest little establishment. What here could possibly be suitable for a person of your standing?”

Guo Yan grinned: “No wonder it’s called Shou Xiang Zhai! I understand now — if one smells the fragrances you sell, one’s waist becomes slender and willowy, so delicate it could barely be encircled by a single hand!”

As he spoke, he edged closer to get a better look at this Miss Su.

My, my — a delicate figure, a voice soft and gentle, and being unable to see made her seem all the more fragile and easy to take advantage of. The more he looked, the more his heart itched with impatience.

Watching Su Luoyun turn to leave, he reached out a grasping hand intending to offer his assistance — with the aim of using the opportunity to take liberties — and was about to invite Miss Su to a nearby teahouse for some refreshments.

But before he had even touched her, a tall man behind him caught him firmly by the arm.

Han Linfeng’s lips curved in a smile, his tone easy and mild: “Young Lord Guo, Prince Consort Zhao despises tardiness above all things — if you dally any longer, I fear you will be penalized.”

At Han Linfeng’s reminder, Guo Yan suddenly remembered he still had proper business to attend to.

Now that he knew where this merchant woman’s establishment was, he could simply come back alone another time!

With that thought, Guo Yan fixed the beauty with one last lingering gaze, then swung back into the saddle with a smile of barely concealed appetite, and continued with Han Linfeng toward the training grounds.

Han Shizi, however, was not in particularly good spirits — not only had he made no effort to exchange pleasantries with the beautiful Miss Su just now, but he also seemed to have turned a rather cold expression toward Guo Yan.

Guo Yan was entirely unconcerned: “What’s the matter? Why the long face? Even if you spotted her first, there’s no need to be so possessive, is there? A woman from a small merchant household — what’s good for one is good for all!”

Han Linfeng made no reply, appearing not to have understood the vulgar implication in Guo Yan’s words.

Guo Yan gave a private snort, thinking Han Linfeng had really changed — being this petty and small-minded. Could it be that he had not yet gotten his hands on Miss Su and was unwilling to let anyone else have a share?

With that thought, he put on a generous air and chuckled: “You and I are as close as brothers — if you’ve truly set your heart on that woman, there’s no problem. I have the most effective methods when it comes to handling respectable young ladies. I’ll make you a wager: in less than three days I could have her eating out of my hand. And she’s blind besides — I wouldn’t even need to blindfold her. Once I’ve had my amusement, I’ll pass her along to you, and she won’t even know which lover is which…”

Guo Yan finished speaking and could not help laughing with wicked delight — but the man at his side fixed him with a look of indescribable cold menace.

Guo Yan laughed for a spell, then under Han Linfeng’s gaze felt an involuntary chill creep over him, and could not help asking: “Brother Linfeng — why are you looking at me like that?”

Han Linfeng slowly curved the corners of his lips into a meaningful smile: “In the past I thought you merely indulged in pleasures — nothing more than whiling away the hours. Today I find that you actually harbor schemes of this nature…”

Young Lord Guo took this for a compliment and broke into loud laughter, already seriously turning over in his mind how to get his hands on that blind beauty as quickly as possible…

By the time they arrived at the training grounds, they were indeed late.

Zhao Dong was Princess Yuyang’s husband, the son-in-law of the reigning Emperor Wei Huidi, and a military general on whom the Emperor placed great reliance.

Entrusted by the Emperor, he had gathered the sons of noble families in the capital who were of suitable age to train them in mounted archery, in preparation for the spring hunt later that year.

In the customs of the Great Wei, the spring hunt ranked second only to ancestral rites in importance. One recalled how in ancient times, Emperor Wei Zong had been surrounded and besieged at Qiutai, and the late Emperor Wei Xuandi, Han Xu, had negotiated a peace treaty on his behalf — ceding twenty northern provinces to the enemy.

This national humiliation was one the entire Wei court could never forget.

Though the border regions between the two nations were presently relatively calm, with only occasional rebel disturbances, and the civil and military officials rarely raised the matter of recovering the lost territories — living in an atmosphere of festivity and peace on all sides — appearances of a martial spirit still had to be maintained.

And so the annual spring hunt served as a grand military exercise. The powdered and rouged sons of the capital’s noble families were obliged to wash off their cosmetics, shed their elevated footwear, and dutifully climb onto horseback to draw back a bowstring or two.

Zhao Dong had spent many years stationed in military camps in the past, sharing wind and rain, bitter and sweet alike with his soldiers. Even after returning to the capital, no longer required to live in a military camp, the habits he had formed in the army remained unchanged.

He despised tardiness above all else. Watching Han Linfeng and Guo Yan saunter in, affecting their carelessly languid airs, he felt immediately displeased and did not so much as glance at the two of them.

Guo Yan knew that this Prince Consort was a man who would not put even his own Princess wife in his eyes. And so he hurried to pull Han Linfeng along, slinking to their seats in dejection, and waited for the Prince Consort to deliver his remarks.

Zhao Dong inhaled the faint, clean fragrance of wild thyme rising from his clothing, steadied his mind, and then spoke: “In half a month, it will be the time of the Emperor’s spring hunt. Each of you young men here are the future pillars of the court. You must stir yourselves to proper spirit, train well in mounted archery, and let the Emperor see that our Wei dynasty’s martial tradition has worthy successors…”

As he spoke, Zhao Dong felt a smoldering frustration rising within him: before him, seated row upon row, were the scions of the most illustrious families — every one of them powdered and rouged, some even with freshly plucked flowers tucked into their caps. Not a trace of masculine bearing among them.

Train these people in mounted archery and hunting? He might as well throw the lot of them into the pleasure quarters to sell themselves!

Looking at this assemblage of pampered pretenders, even the Prince Consort’s words of encouragement lodged in his throat.

Zhao Dong’s face darkened, and he resolved to use these coming days to properly grind away the soft, powdered airs from these spoiled young lords.

With that decided, he immediately announced the day’s exercise: riding to retrieve arrows.

The name described it precisely — after shooting arrows from horseback, one galloped back and, leaning down from the saddle, gathered the fallen arrows from the ground.

But given the great height of a horse’s back, sliding down to one side while in full gallop and then scooping up the arrows like fishing the moon from the bottom of a well — merely contemplating it was daunting enough.

The young lords seated in the gallery exchanged glances, each suspecting the Prince Consort was having some kind of joke at their expense.

But Zhao Dong saw nothing amusing about it. In battle, no matter how well-stocked one’s arrows were, there would come a time when supplies ran out. Swiftly gathering fallen arrows during a lull in fighting — resupplying oneself on the field — was nothing more than an introductory lesson for cavalry.

He said no more, then stepped out ahead of them onto the practice grounds, personally mounted his horse, drew his bow and shot off several arrows in various directions at will, then wheeled his horse around the field, gathering up the fallen arrows with clean, unhurried ease.

Having demonstrated, the Prince Consort waved a broad hand and called out Han Linfeng and Guo Yan first to step forward and perform the exercise as he had shown them.

Guo Yan’s face turned pale at this. This was practically acrobatics — if he were to attempt it, would he not break his neck?

He resolved to feign a stomachache and avoid taking the first charge.

What he had not anticipated was that the wretch Han Linfeng beat him to it — furrowing his thick brows, clutching his belly, and announcing he needed to relieve himself. With that, he strode off toward the back courtyard with his manservant in tow.

The ruse of a lavatory escape had already been claimed, and when Guo Yan then tried to find an excuse, Prince Consort Zhao leveled a sword at his neck: “I have received the Emperor’s orders to train you — it is no different from a military commission. Should anyone else attempt to shirk with excuses, they will be punished with thirty lashes!”

Guo Yan had not expected the Prince Consort to be entirely in earnest. With no other choice, he climbed onto his horse with a face like a man attending his own funeral. He tried to urge the horse forward slowly, hoping to slide down at a measured pace to reach for the arrow — so that even if he truly lost his seat and fell, he would not come to much harm…

As it happened, the Prince Consort harbored no real expectation that these precious hothouse sons would manage it on the first attempt, and so he did not press Guo Yan to move any faster.

But at that very moment, a pebble came flying from some unknown direction and struck Young Lord Guo’s horse squarely on the rump.

The horse’s eyes went wild, and with a frenzied whinny it reared and bolted. Such violent jolting left Guo Yan with not a moment to brace himself, and in a few lurching seconds he was flung from the saddle.

With a harrowing scream, it seemed Guo Yan’s leg had been broken by the fall. He lay collapsed on the ground, trembling and wailing pitifully, unable to move a single inch.

At this, Prince Consort Zhao knew something had gone terribly wrong, and immediately called out for a physician to be summoned.

Because of this mishap, the day’s exercises were called to an early halt.

When Han Linfeng emerged from the privy, he was informed that due to the accident, the young lords were free to return home, with training to resume the following day. Han Linfeng offered warm words of comfort to Guo Yan as he was hoisted onto a stretcher, saying that once he had recovered, he would absolutely host a lavish flowing banquet in celebration.

It was a pity — Young Lord Guo had arrived with such dashing ease on horseback, only to be carried back to the Yong’an Prince’s residence on a stretcher, weeping all the way.

Han Linfeng watched his injured drinking companion being carried off, then turned to make his own way back — only to be called to a stop by Prince Consort Zhao behind him.

Han Linfeng turned around with a smile and asked the Prince Consort what further instructions he had.

Zhao Dong regarded the carelessly languid young man before him — still wearing his powders and cosmetics — with an expression of complicated feeling, and for a long moment said nothing.

There had once been a time, when leading troops, that he had been stationed in Liangzhou for over a month.

At the time, though Zhao Dong was already the Prince Consort of Great Wei, he preferred to eat and drink alongside the common soldiers each day. He had acquired several wild horses at the time and was working with several skilled riders to break them in.

Word of this had drawn local children to cluster around the fence and watch. Among them, a certain young boy witnessed several of the skilled riders being thrown from the horses, and actually called out in mockery: “No wonder Great Wei lost those twenty northern provinces. If the army is full of useless rice barrels like these, they’d be better off going home to nurse babies!”

One of the soldiers, stung by this audacious child’s taunting, retorted by asking if the boy dared to tame the wild horse himself.

The boy, who appeared to be no more than twelve or thirteen years of age, showed not the slightest trace of fear. He nimbly clambered over the fence, entered the yard, and truly vaulted onto the horse’s back.

What followed was Zhao Dong watching a boy of extraordinary equestrian skill — nimble as a sharp-witted little monkey — cling to the horse’s back with total control, riding the wildest horse until the beast was utterly exhausted.

In the end, with its spirit entirely broken, the wild horse carried the boy quietly around the practice ground in obedient circles.

Zhao Dong had looked on at that radiant, fiercely untamed boy and been struck with genuine awe — his instinct telling him that this young man possessed remarkable courage and talent, and was one who could be shaped into greatness. Only afterward did he learn that the boy was of the Emperor’s own bloodline — a son of Prince Beizhen.

Though it was a pity that a young talent could not be recruited under his command, many years had passed, and Zhao Dong had never ceased placing great hopes in this imperial descendant.

And yet before ten years had gone by, that young man of once-extraordinary courage and bearing had also caught the decadent airs of the capital, making the soft and effeminate gesture of wearing powders and cosmetics.

In the past two years Zhao Dong had been posted to guard the border and away from the capital at intervals, with no opportunity to have a real conversation with Han Shizi. Today, having at last found the occasion, there were things he wished to say to Han Linfeng.

Compared to those young lords who had been ruined by indulgence from childhood, it was precisely this young man — who had once stood so proudly astride a horse — falling so low that grieved Zhao Dong most deeply.

And so, though knowing his hopes were slim, Zhao Dong still wished he might somehow rouse the boy to his senses, and not let him continue keeping company with the likes of Guo Yan, wasting his life away for nothing.

When Han Linfeng heard Zhao Dong bring up the old story of his youth and taming the wild horse, he simply gave a rueful smile: “I was unruly beyond all bounds as a child — a few days of riding practice had gone to my head, and I did something so reckless and presumptuous. When my father found out afterward, he punished me severely with a rattan cane. After that, I never so much as touched a horse’s reins again.”

Zhao Dong frowned, and then pressed further: “If the Shizi has a fondness for it, you are welcome to come and train at my garrison. With your natural talent…”

Before Zhao Dong could finish, Han Linfeng cut him off with a gentle smile: “Many thanks for the Prince Consort’s kind regard. Only I am no longer a child — why should I need to play about with swords and weapons? The world is at peace now. You yourself need not keep your spirit wound so tightly, Prince Consort. By the way — the fine vintage at the teahouse on Yanzi Lake is quite intoxicating. If the Prince Consort has any leisure, I would be happy to treat you to a drink by the water…”

When words are ill-matched, even half a sentence is too many. Prince Consort Zhao gave a cold reply that he had no time, then turned away and left with a dismissive sweep of his sleeve.

The smile on Han Linfeng’s face slowly faded. The things he had just said were half true, half false.

The truest part was about the punishment.

When he had distinguished himself at the army camp that day and went home to boast about it to his father, Prince Beizhen had flogged him without mercy with the rattan cane — more than thirty lashes.

He still remembered his father lashing him again and again while roaring in fury: “Ignorant child — you think only of showing off your strength, with no thought for the hundred-odd lives of our entire household! Have my words been wind in your ears all this time? Remember this! Living here in Liangzhou, no one will say a word about your eating, drinking, and pleasures — but if you ever develop ambitions beyond your station and wish to display your talents and capabilities, then you had better go find yourself a deep river to jump into and be reborn as someone else!”

Those thirty-odd lashes had been delivered without a scrap of restraint. Had his mother not flung herself over him in tears and taken several of the lashes upon herself, his father would very likely have beaten him to death on the spot.

From that day on, he had never again ridden a horse in front of others, nor practiced his swordsmanship…

When Han Linfeng returned to his study in the Prince’s residence, Qingyang could no longer hold back, and said quietly: “Young master — you have always been on the best of terms with Young Lord Guo. Why today did you…”

He had been in attendance at Han Linfeng’s side all along, and had watched with his own eyes as the young master concealed himself in a corner and sent a pebble flying swiftly to strike Young Lord Guo’s horse on the rump.

Though the young master was by no means the same kind of person as Guo Yan, they had nonetheless eaten, drunk, and made merry together for a considerable time without any quarrel. Why had he suddenly turned on him today?

Han Linfeng lowered his eyes, and said in a mild, flat tone: “I have been tolerating him for a long time. Mere eating, drinking, and pleasure-seeking is one thing — it harms no one of consequence. What I did not anticipate is that he would conceive thoughts of disgracing a respectable woman. A menace this lawless and unrestrained — a broken leg will at least keep him quiet for a few days.”

Qingyang blinked, privately suspecting that the young master had acted on behalf of Miss Su.

Though in truth, there was no real bond of friendship between the young master and Han Shizi of that nature. After all, no one had ever seen a predator and a lapdog become true companions.

That Guo Yan was nothing more than a prop in the young master’s performance of a life of dissipation in the capital.

The late Emperor had been wary of the line descending from Emperor Wei Zong. From the generation of the late Crown Prince onward, the sons and grandsons of the House of Prince Beizhen had all been keeping a low profile and living with their tails between their legs. And the young master, being as perceptive as he was, understood this principle most deeply of all.

One might recall that the late Emperor had not long ago given Han Linfeng a severe tongue-lashing — but did one not see that for a person in Han Linfeng’s position as a hostage-prince, being reviled as a useless wastrel was far preferable to being praised as a pillar of the state?

After the Emperor had berated him soundly, a few days later he granted the Shizi a commendation, making it all the more convenient for him to enjoy banquets and invitations — and that was proof enough.

With this thought, Qingyang also reconsidered whether the young master had truly acted solely for that blind girl Miss Su. More likely he had simply grown weary, after so long a performance, of that wastrel Guo Yan — and had taken the small opportunity to mete out a minor punishment, letting himself breathe a little easier.

Han Linfeng read for a while, then felt his eyes growing weary, and wandered alone into the rear garden.

Since Emperor Wei Huidi’s reprimand, the Prince’s residence had not held any banquets for quite some time. The steward, feeling the courtyards had grown rather bare and lifeless, had purchased some greenery and planted it throughout the yard as the spring warmth returned.

With nothing pressing on his time, Han Linfeng enjoyed solitary moments, walking among the fresh expanse of green in quiet contemplation.

From early childhood he had practiced martial arts in secret, and the circulation of his inner breath had become entirely natural, so that his footstep was lighter than that of ordinary people. Even when someone was present in the neighboring courtyard, they would not detect him.

Just as Han Linfeng reached the north garden wall, he heard — through two intervening courtyard walls — what appeared to be the voices of a mistress and her maidservant in conversation.

“Young mistress — you should have seen the way that Young Lord Guo was looking at you today, his eyes practically boring straight through to your skin. Next time you run into him, please don’t speak to him at all. I can tell he is not a decent man!”

Then Han Linfeng heard the familiar, clear and bright voice of that young woman: “I don’t need to see to know what kind of person he is. I’ve heard he once harassed the daughter-in-law of the Marquis of Weiyuan, and was caught and beaten in the back hall. If not for the protection of his father, he would hardly be prancing around causing trouble everywhere… I wonder how Han Shizi could possibly be on close terms with someone of that sort…”

That last line was spoken very softly, as though murmured more to herself than to anyone else.

The maidservant beside her did not understand, and asked: “Aren’t all these young lords cut from the same cloth? Han Shizi may be far better-looking than that short Young Lord Guo, but he’s steeped in eating, drinking, and pleasure just the same — isn’t it perfectly natural that they get along?”

Su Luoyun appeared unable to offer a rebuttal, and only let out a long, slow sigh, saying quietly: “It’s just… I find it rather a pity about him…”

Though she could not see, in the course of their several encounters Su Luoyun had come to feel that Han Linfeng was not as shallow as he presented himself to the world.

Particularly in the way he had helped her, several times now, in that understated and unannounced fashion — he was clearly a man of perceptive mind and careful deliberation, one who did nothing without a considered purpose.

That a man of this kind would be on intimate terms with someone so unable to read the room, so impulsively lecherous — Su Luoyun genuinely could not make sense of it.

What she did not know was that the sigh she had just breathed — “what a pity about him” — had drifted on a gust of spring air over the courtyard wall tangled with climbing roses, and entered the ears of the person standing quietly below.

Han Linfeng heard it, his expression entirely still. He listened as the sounds of mistress and maidservant rustling away in the distance gradually faded.

Since coming to the capital, he had played his role day and night, and had come close at times to forgetting what manner of person he truly was.

The mockery of the world — spoken to his face or behind his back — found its way to his ears from time to time.

Han Linfeng had always believed himself capable of remaining unmoved by praise or contempt alike. But he had not expected that someone who could not use her eyes would perceive that he was not rotten all the way through — and had entirely forgotten that in truth, she was the one who deserved the pity…

He slowly closed his eyes, breathed in with the clear breeze, and seemed to catch the faint, delicate fragrance rising from that clear and graceful young woman on the other side of the wall. He murmured softly:

“Bamboo shadows thin the poem; plum blossoms drift into dreams, fragrant…”

So her shop’s name — Shou Xiang Zhai — had come from these elegant lines of an ancient poem. And was that clear and graceful young woman not herself a winter plum, growing proudly and alone in a cold and cheerless courtyard?

One wondered — into whose dreams would such an uncommon fragrant plum one day drift?

In truth, Su Luoyun had no need of Xiangcao’s warning. That day, after encountering Guo Yan and enduring his verbal liberties, she had quietly put herself on guard, and for the next several days did not go to the new shop at all.

Young Lord Guo, however, did not come to pester her as she had feared — everything remained quiet and calm.

It was only later, through Xu Qiaozhi and Lu Lingxiu who came to call on her, that she learned the Guo family’s Young Lord had fallen from his horse — not only breaking his leg but injuring his back as well.

To say nothing of pursuing romantic amusements — Young Lord Guo now ate, drank, and relieved himself entirely in bed, moaning and wailing without cease all day long. It was said that the Princess Consort of Yong’an, frantic with maternal love for her son, had come in person with a retinue to demand an accounting from Prince Consort Zhao.

But she had been met without ceremony and turned back by Princess Yuyang, equally devoted to her husband and entirely unimpressed. The two sides pulled and pushed, until the matter even made its way before the Emperor himself.

The Emperor could not very well show obvious favoritism toward his own son-in-law, yet neither could he severely reprimand Zhao Dong over what was ultimately an accident. After all, it was Guo Yan himself who was simply too pampered and frail, possessing none of the martial spirit of his family’s predecessors who had charged into battle.

In the end, the Emperor’s conciliatory resolution was to cancel the segment of the spring hunt in which the noble sons would perform on horseback. This sent those precious young lords who could not manage to stay on a horse heaving a collective sigh of relief, and they were exceedingly grateful to Guo Yan for his broken leg.

At the same time, there were those who voiced the regret that had Young Lord Guo managed to fall to his death outright this time, it might have spared everyone several years of spring hunt trouble in the future.

Upon hearing that Guo Yan was confined to bed and unable to go out, Su Luoyun also breathed a great sigh of relief. Had she been entangled with a wanton scoundrel of that sort, it would have been exceedingly difficult to shake him off.

With this thought, she felt a wave of sincere gratitude toward Prince Consort Zhao. When preparing incense for the Prince Consort’s residence, she added several extra portions beyond the usual.

Though Luoyun’s new shop had only just opened, it had already accumulated clientele who placed substantial orders. Chief among them was Princess Yuyang herself.

By now, many of the fragrance commissions for the Princess’s residence had bypassed the old established Shouwei Pavilion entirely and been redirected to Shou Xiang Zhai.

The business of a patron who was currently in favor and enjoying great esteem was the most straightforward to conduct — no shortage of silver, and no credit extended. When Su Luoyun put on an expression of difficulty and mentioned to the Princess’s steward that the new shop had only just opened and was short of funds for operations, requiring advance payment, the steward did not hesitate in the slightest and paid the full amount on the spot.

“Miss Su, the Princess has her eye on you right now and won’t so much as smell another establishment’s incense. You just focus on preparing your fragrances well — the money to be made from here on out is yours for the taking!”

Su Luoyun naturally agreed, and quickly had Xiangcao wrap up a generous red envelope in thanks to the steward for speaking well of her before the Princess.

The steward accepted it without ceremony, smiling pleasantly: “I can see that the young miss is someone who will go far. Serving those of high station requires three parts genuine skill and seven parts knowing how to navigate people and situations. You’ve understood that quite thoroughly…”

In truth, these smooth and supple methods were ones Su Luoyun had learned from her stepmother Ding Shi.

When Ding Shi first entered the household, she had won over the entire extended family and its acquaintances within days by knowing how to distribute favors strategically.

As a child, Luoyun had thought it was simply that the family’s relatives were shallow and mercenary. Only as she grew older did she come to understand the importance of cultivating one’s connections. Now that she was living on her own, without her father’s name to lean on, she had all the more reason to learn suppleness and care, gradually building up her own circle of relationships and influence.

The stewards of great noble houses were all the sort who would pluck a feather from every passing goose — the steward’s readiness to hand over the silver just now was naturally with the expectation of some benefit in return.

Su Luoyun did not dare to be stingy. The sum she gave the steward was quite substantial. The steward, finding that this young woman — though not yet grown — was even more open-handed than her stepmother, was naturally thoroughly satisfied.

After smiling her way through the farewell and seeing the steward out, she released another slow, quiet breath.

For the moment, the pressure of financial difficulty had at last been lifted. But close on its heels came the problem of fragrance material supply.

The Su family’s holdings were not limited to the ready-made fragrance establishment of Shouwei Pavilion — they also controlled the supply of a large volume of fine fragrance materials.

That Su Hongmeng had managed to enter the Bureau of Monopoly Trade in the first place was precisely because he had access to connections of such remarkable scope.

For a newly established shop like Shou Xiang Zhai, sourcing materials was the foremost problem to be resolved.

For more common fragrance materials, it was manageable — a large trading fair was coming up soon, and as long as Su Luoyun was willing to spend the silver, she would be able to purchase what she needed.

But goods such as huang shu incense and frankincense were all imported products, dependent on overseas supply. These were monopolized by the Bureau of Monopoly Trade, and on those rare occasions when some lower-grade goods were released and appeared on the market, even then one shipment was barely enough to meet demand.

In other words, even if Su Luoyun had the silver, she had no means of purchasing these specially allocated goods in any significant quantity.

Previously, when blending fragrances, she had the pretext of drawing on the storeroom of the Prince Consort’s residence as a temporary resource. But now that she had set up her own independent business, she could hardly continue raiding Princess Yuyang’s stores indefinitely.

The bottleneck in the fragrance trade was something not only Su Luoyun understood — Su Hongmeng had long since foreseen the first major obstacle his daughter would face after opening her shop’s doors.

On Su Hongmeng’s birthday, even though the rift between father and daughter from before remained unresolved, Luoyun still had to bring her younger brother to celebrate their father.

At the dinner table with the whole family assembled, Su Hongmeng kept his eyes lowered, prodding a large piece of pork knuckle skin with the end of his chopsticks, and said: “Luoyun has been doing rather well for herself lately — picking off quite a few of the old shop’s clients. But don’t let your eyes be bigger than your stomach. Don’t overextend yourself.”

The wretched girl really had some nerve — she had poached several of Shouwei Pavilion’s most loyal patrons. Did she not weigh herself up a little? In a well-established trade like the fragrance business, could anyone without a solid foundation possibly hold their ground?

And besides, those wealthy and noble patrons she had lured away — what had they not seen in their lives? They had only been dazzled at first by the novelty of her little tricks. Once they discovered she could not procure any truly prized fragrance materials, they would see clearly enough what sort of beneath-contempt operation “Shou Xiang Zhai” really was.

If she could not hold on to those noble patrons, running the shop would just be burning through silver for nothing.

In the end, however the wretched girl had managed to swallow all of this, that was how she was going to have to spit it back up, whole!

Faced with her father’s cold mockery, Su Luoyun’s eyes — already blind — seemed to have gone deaf as well. She simply let him mock away, without any of the sharp-tongued retorts she had shown the day she stormed into the house and quarreled.

In the end it was Su Guiyan who, unable to bear watching his sister suffer, feigned a stomachache as an excuse to rest, and used it to pull his sister out the door of the Su family’s great residence early.

As the two siblings stepped out through the courtyard gate, the sound of Caijian’s bright, bell-like laughter drifted out from the main hall behind them, along with Ding Shi’s voice urging the brothers to eat more slowly.

It seemed that once they had left, with no “outsiders” remaining in the hall, the atmosphere finally came alive.

“Elder Sister, we shouldn’t have come. Father doesn’t want us here either…”

Hearing the dejection in her younger brother’s voice, Su Luoyun understood exactly what lay at the heart of his sadness.

She said gently to reassure him: “However poorly he treats us, he is still our birth father. If we failed to come and offer our congratulations, we would be confirming the charge of being unfilial. I don’t mind for my own sake — but you are the one who will sit the civil examinations. You cannot afford to carry the stain of being unfilial. It was just a few cold words — think of it as him venting. That’s all.”

“Father said your shop won’t last…” Su Guiyan felt a pang of guilt that his blind elder sister had to work so hard to support the household, as though it reflected his own inadequacy as a younger brother. “Elder Sister… why don’t I stop studying for the examinations, and let me help you with the business instead?”

At these words, Su Luoyun’s unfocused eyes went wide and round: “Utter nonsense. Water flows downhill; people must aim for higher ground. You are going to become an official in the future — how could you possibly go into trade? Short-sighted thinking and a failure to strive forward — that is not showing care for me at all. Don’t worry about what happens with the shop. I have my own way of managing it.”

Though she had made confident promises to reassure her younger brother, in truth Su Luoyun also found the question of fragrance material sourcing somewhat thorny. Still, with the trading fair coming up soon, she was hopeful that much could be resolved there.

As luck would have it, her maternal uncle was escorting his superior to the port to board a ship, then turning back to the capital on official business, and stopped by to see Luoyun and her brother along the way.

This time, with Luoyun having a courtyard of her own, she invited her uncle straight into the house. Warm wine was poured, white pork was carved, and they had a comfortable, free-flowing meal together.

Hu Xuesong saw that in just a matter of days his niece had pried a shop out of that miserly brother-in-law of his, and could only lift his cup in admiring tribute, drinking three large cups in succession. Yet at the same time, he felt a wistful melancholy: “You are a young woman — you need not place such heavy importance on money and silver. If you could find a steady, honest man to marry, I would feel far more at ease. The capital may appear peaceful and festive right now, but the border fires in the north have never truly been extinguished. When the day comes that the world is thrown into upheaval and beacon fires blaze across the land, who will care whether the air smells of incense or of smoke? When you choose someone — choose a man who can protect his wife and children. The kind with no strength whatsoever — you must never take such a one…”

Su Guiyan, hearing this, shrank slightly in his seat, suspecting his uncle was subtly commenting on his own thin and frail constitution. He immediately bit off a large mouthful of meat to make up for it.

Luoyun, for her part, took her uncle’s words as the tipsy ramblings of a man who had drunk too much. What thought had she given to marriage? Besides — what good man would willingly take a blind woman as his wife?

When the meal was done, Luoyun sent Su Guiyan back to his study to read, while she had some private matters to discuss with her uncle.

Her uncle was about to depart on official business that would take him through Shu territory. Luoyun wished to ask him to look into matters there while he passed through — specifically, to find out the truth about what her father had been engaged in during his years of trading in Shu.

Hu Xuesong found this puzzling and asked Luoyun what she had heard.

Luoyun said: “Nanny Tian once mentioned to me that Ding Pei and Father were already acquainted before he brought her home. If Uncle could find some concrete evidence, it would give us something to hold over her. If she tries to stir up trouble in the future, my brother and I won’t be entirely at her mercy.”

The incident of Xiangcao’s poisoning had revealed to Luoyun the true vicious nature of Ding Shi, and it sometimes kept her awake at night. She was already thinking about how to find a grip on this poisonous snake’s most vulnerable point.

Ding Shi was constantly looking for ways to squeeze her into a corner, and without some kind of hold over her, she might very well fall into her trap again one day. If her uncle’s journey could turn up some old information about Ding Pei, it might prove of considerable use.

Hu Xuesong heard this and felt a surge of indignation rise within him. In truth, he had always sensed that his elder sister must have caught wind of something in her time. But his sister had been far too gentle and yielding — she had always thought only of shielding her husband, and had swallowed her grievances without saying a word to the family.

Fortunately, his niece’s temperament was nothing like his sister’s. And so he agreed on the spot, saying he would board the fast boat and make for Shu territory this very departure.

After this brief reunion came the inevitable parting.

When she saw her uncle off, he mentioned in passing that smuggling aboard the river vessels had been running rampant of late, and the court was preparing to crack down with full force on those who defied imperial law. The river navy forces of the Two Rivers region, his own included, had all received orders from their superiors to conduct thorough investigations into the distribution networks of the contraband traders. It was feared that this year the black market in fragrance materials would see a significant reduction as a result.

Hu Xuesong, knowing that Luoyun was running a shop, repeatedly urged her: when sourcing materials, she must be sure to verify whether the merchant held a valid permit issued by the Bureau of Monopoly Trade. She must never be tempted by low prices and purchase from smugglers, leaving herself exposed to trouble later.

Luoyun nodded in acknowledgment, then brought out a long-napped cotton quilt she had made with her own hands for her uncle to take with him. The Two Rivers region was near the water, and cold winds came off it at night — he must take good care of his health, so that niece and uncle might meet again in the future.

After her uncle’s departure, Su Luoyun threw herself wholeheartedly into the work of the shop, and spent the greater part of her remaining time at the fragrance trading fair.

In the Wei dynasty, the large-scale trading of fragrance goods took place once a year in a concentrated sale. If one could enter the bulk purchase fair, not only were the prices fair, but the variety was also exceedingly comprehensive.

For those in the fragrance trade, if they had no other connections to draw upon, this one concentrated purchasing opportunity was not to be missed.

This annual fair was generally held at the start of the year, at the Yunji Ferry crossing near the capital. When the fragrance trading fair opened, merchants would unload the various imported fragrance goods they had transported by sea, and with a valid permit from the Bureau of Monopoly Trade in hand, could sell directly from the docks.

Afterward, vessels large and small would carry these imported goods away in packed and sorted shipments, distributing them to markets throughout the land.

The only complication was that those who came to select goods were almost exclusively men — and predominantly older men with full, grizzled beards at that.

After all, fragrance materials were not unlike medicinal herbs — they demanded experience and seasoned expertise. Though Luoyun wore a heavily veiled hat, she was a young woman pressing through the bustling, crowded stalls, and still drew sidelong glances from merchants on all sides.

At first the fragrance vendors did not believe that a young woman of this sort had come to purchase goods in bulk. Particularly as she was clearly leaning on her maidservant for support, feeling her way forward one step at a time — plainly a blind person.

What blind person’s household had sent her to this place to join the commotion?