Upon hearing Nanny Xi’s question, however, Luoyun only smiled sweetly and said: “Matron Yu had not yet had the chance to begin when you arrived. It is simply that Nanny Xi teaches so well — your explanations are so clear and orderly that naturally I was able to retain them.”

Matron Yu joined in, genuinely surprised: “Indeed, I had not yet said a word — the consort truly has a remarkable memory!”

The understated implication in Su Luoyun’s words made Nanny Xi’s expression tighten.

She cleared her throat. She had come to understand that, blind as this woman before her was, she was no simpleton. The remaining instruction would need to be conducted in earnest from here on.

After all, the new bride was about to enter the palace. If she disgraced herself there, even a figure of Nanny Xi’s long standing in the manor would find her own reputation difficult to protect.

But just as she was about to continue, Su Luoyun said, unhurriedly: “Since the Shizi has specifically assigned Matron Yu to teach me, he must have wished to spare Nanny Xi any unnecessary strain. Both of you are accomplished instructors, and only one is needed. Come — have someone bring a bowl of bird’s nest congee to Nanny’s room for her to rest with. It is the least we can do after the trouble of her coming all this way.”

The words, for all their apparent courtesy, left Nanny Xi’s face quite unable to compose itself.

Her expression shifted. She gave a cold laugh. “So the Shizi’s consort finds this old woman useless — unfit to serve you? The Wang Fei herself sent me here to instruct the consort in proper conduct. If you are dissatisfied, you are welcome to write to the Wang Fei directly. Otherwise, I am afraid I cannot comply.”

Su Luoyun furrowed her brow at this, and said with careful hesitation: “I was merely concerned about tiring you, Nanny, and wished to let you rest — and that requires a letter to the Wang Fei? The north is hardly at peace just now, and the relay stations have been running without stop. I have heard that horses have been dying on the road from exhaustion. Are you quite certain something this small is worth putting a relay horse through its paces?”

What Luoyun said was nothing but the truth. The relay stations had barely a moment’s rest of late, and for households without urgent matters — or without sufficient standing — it was not easy to obtain the official dispatch papers needed to send correspondence through the government relay network.

Those official papers bearing the government seal were, at present, worth more than their weight in gold.

Nanny Xi had just arrived in the capital and knew perfectly well the state of the relay roads. After Luoyun’s question, she found herself tongue-tied once again, her face flushing an unhappy shade of red.

At that moment, a clear and resonant voice came from beyond the room: “What matter is so urgent that it requires writing to my mother?”

Han Linfeng had strolled in.

The moment Nanny Xi saw the Shizi enter, her entire demeanor transformed. A smile came over her face. “The consort was just setting this old servant straight, my lord — it is simply that this old one arrived only recently and does not yet understand the consort’s ways.”

Han Linfeng swept aside his long robe and sat down, letting out a slow sigh. “These days, even those holding official posts in the capital are embarrassed to occupy relay horses for personal use. Someone like me — an idle wanderer with no duties to speak of — sending home letters at every turn, at a time like this, would be thoroughly tone-deaf. I’d no doubt find myself on the receiving end of another imperial scolding. Ah Yun is right. I have been scolded quite enough recently.”

Nanny Xi had intended to use a tactical retreat to maneuver the Shizi into reprimanding this woman of lowly origin. Instead, Han Linfeng had simply agreed with her, and Nanny Xi found herself with nothing to catch onto. She could only fall back on her original purpose — reminding him that the Wang Fei had sent her expressly to instruct the new bride in proper conduct.

Han Linfeng made a mild sound of acknowledgment, then abruptly asked: “If Nanny Xi is not confident in Matron Yu, then by all means, you may take over instead… Ah, but — do you happen to know which new arrival at the palace is currently most favored by His Majesty?”

Nanny Xi had felt a small surge of satisfaction when the Shizi seemed to relent. But his next question left her blinking: “This… this old servant has only just arrived in the capital. How would I know such a thing?”

Han Linfeng smiled lightly and turned. “Matron Yu, what do you think?”

Matron Yu smiled. “It should be the third daughter of the prefect of Guanzhou. She entered the palace a month ago and was elevated to the rank of Cairen of the fifth grade — His Majesty has graced her three times already. In truth, Nanny Xi need only spend a few more days in the capital, making the rounds of the various households, and she will know far more than I do. After all, we all came from Liangzhou — who does not know that Nanny is a person who understands everything inside and out?”

It was apparent that Matron Yu was well aware of Nanny Xi’s formidable connections and had no wish to antagonize her over this matter. And so she answered the Shizi’s question while taking care not to forget a well-placed compliment for the old figure of authority.

Han Linfeng nodded with an air of comprehension. “Matron Yu is right — Nanny Xi is most capable. However, Ah Yun is entering the palace shortly. By the time Nanny has familiarized herself with current affairs in the capital, it will likely be too late. Please allow Matron Yu to handle this in the meantime. Ah — how are Father Wang and Mother keeping? Their health is good, I trust? Nanny Xi, if you have no pressing matters, do come with me to the study. I have been wondering about the latest news from the manor, and you can tell me everything, bit by bit.”

Left without a graceful alternative, Nanny Xi had little choice but to rise and follow the Shizi to the study. The Shizi, it seemed, was deeply homesick — once he began asking questions, there was no end to them. Relatives, in-laws, family connections — he went through each one in turn.

The talking went on so long that Nanny Xi’s mouth ran completely dry.

Even then the Shizi seemed not to have heard enough, and asked with leisurely interest: “How many litters has Father’s dog had by now? And what about that one Father gave to the Liangzhou Administrator two years ago — has it had pups yet?”

Nanny Xi seethed inwardly, nearly choking on a mouthful of that prized bird’s nest congee — he was asking after the fortunes of a dog that had been given away as a gift? Just how much time did this Shizi have on his hands?

Mercifully, by the afternoon the palace banquet was at last set to begin.

The Shizi made his preparations to enter the palace, and finally released Nanny Xi to go and rest.

On Luoyun’s side, she had long since finished her lessons and was now preparing her appearance for the occasion.

Under ordinary circumstances, Nanny Xi would have personally supervised the dressing and makeup. But the old woman had talked herself into a pounding head, and without even eating her midday meal, went to lie down and recover her breath.

And so it was Matron Yu who personally helped the Shizi’s consort don her court headdress and formal robes.

The court headdress was a full ceremonial set — extremely heavy.

As Matron Yu directed the maidservants to help steady it in place, she cautioned: “The consort must endure. Heavy as this headdress is, once seated inside the palace, you must not tilt your head or rest your cheek on your hand. Only when you leave the palace and board the sedan chair may you remove it.”

Luoyun understood that every woman who entered the palace wore the same thing — there was no escaping it. She could only hope the banquet would not last too long, or her neck would be in agony before the evening was out.

As they were about to depart, Nanny Xi finally emerged from her rest.

Having attended the Wang Fei on numerous visits to the palace in former years, she had still hoped to accompany the party and make her presence known in those familiar halls.

Han Linfeng glanced at her and said, with easy composure: “Nanny Xi has traveled all the way from Liangzhou — she really ought to rest and recover. There is no need for you to come along this time. Matron Yu is familiar with the ladies of all the capital households, and having her attend will allow her to offer the consort helpful guidance along the way.”

With that effortless remark, he had once again left Nanny Xi standing outside the carriage.

Nanny Xi’s expression was not a pleasant one, but she could hardly be too forceful before the Shizi. She had little choice but to see him off with a proper curtsey.

Luoyun and Han Linfeng rode to the palace in the same carriage.

As a newly married couple without his parents present, the first cup of tea they offered their elders would be presented to the Emperor and Empress instead.

Emperor Weihui, now past sixty, received the imperial couple he had himself decreed into being — this unlikely pair of mandarin ducks — just before the banquet began.

When he had issued that impulsive command, his only concern had been to push Han Linfeng toward marriage quickly and cut off any possibility of the young man pursuing the second daughter of the Duke of Lu. He had not, however, known that the merchant’s daughter he had so casually decreed was blind.

He had only learned this detail afterward, when the Duke of Lu’s tearful, aggrieved second daughter let it slip — and it was only then that he understood, with a sudden clarity, that when the Shizi had once mentioned something about the girl’s eyes, he had not been complaining about their size or shape, but was telling him she could not see.

After that, even the Emperor had felt that perhaps this match had been arranged rather too hastily, and that it reflected somewhat poorly. He had no great regard for the Beizhen manor, but neither did he wish to earn a reputation for being heartless toward the descendants of the previous Emperor.

His intention today in summoning the young woman was to offer some manner of last-minute remedy — to think of some way to compensate the Beizhen Shizi.

Though when all was said and done, it was Han Linfeng who had failed to conduct himself properly. Had he not been unable to govern himself, none of this mismatched business would have come to pass.

Yet when Han Linfeng personally led his new bride into the hall, the Emperor looked more carefully — and found himself thinking that perhaps the young man’s rather extreme susceptibility to feminine charms was, on this occasion, understandable.

The blind woman before him wore gold hairpins against black hair, her skin white as snow touched with the faintest bloom of color, and beneath her delicately curved brows, her eyes appeared to shimmer with an expressive depth. Her figure was graceful, and as she walked, her skirts swayed with a distinctive and altogether elegant bearing.

He looked again at Han Linfeng, who was guiding his bride into the hall, leaning in now and then to murmur something in her ear, lifting the hem of her skirt to help her over the threshold — for a man supposedly resentful of this arranged marriage, he did not appear to be suffering much.

The Empress, too, was watching with open curiosity. The new bride’s manner of kneeling to pay her respects was quite proper — the gestures precise and composed, clearly the product of genuine preparation. There was no trace of the nervous awkwardness one might expect from someone of modest origins.

If she truly came from a merchant family, she was a woman of remarkably refined upbringing.

The blindness, of course, was a flaw that no amount of upbringing could remedy — and one the Emperor could hardly pretend not to notice.

After drinking the tea the new couple offered, the Emperor sent the bride ahead to the main hall, keeping Han Linfeng behind to offer a few words of consolation to the unlucky groom.

“I was rather hasty at the time — I truly did not know she had this eye condition.”

Han Linfeng immediately replied: “It was this subject’s own fault — young and foolish and drunk, doing something reckless. Father Wang has already sent a letter giving me a thorough dressing-down. At the same time, this subject is grateful for His Majesty’s grace in arranging this marriage — it has brought me to my senses and put an end to my nights of endless drinking, and I am no longer permitted to dally after women, or at least for five years… ahem, for five years I am not permitted to take a concubine… Well, thankfully the woman does have some qualities to recommend her — better than nothing. Would Your Majesty not agree that she is remarkably fair and comely? I would dare to wager against Your Majesty that in all of the capital, only the beauties of the inner palace itself could surpass her…”

Hearing him meander off down this particular path, the Emperor gave a mild, pointed cough, putting a stop to the young reprobate’s wandering talk.

The Emperor’s original intention had been clear enough — he had not wished to see a member of the imperial clan and royal lineage saddled with a blind wife. But that, too, could be corrected. He need only claim that Han Linfeng had misheard the original oral decree, find some small fault as a pretext, and demote the blind woman to the status of concubine. Then he could arrange a suitable match with some young woman of no great significance — a token of consideration toward the late Emperor’s memory.

But Han Linfeng had led with the news of Prince Beizhen’s letter, and then proceeded to boast of his new wife’s beauty with all the pride of a man who had acquired a great treasure — even seeming to invite comparison with the inner palace itself.

The Emperor’s irritation gave way to a feeling that his own goodwill had become quite superfluous.

By all appearances, the Prince understood his son all too well, and had every intention of using this affair to give the unruly young man a thorough lesson.

While the Emperor had no great expectations that Han Linfeng would truly reform, if the Prince wished to discipline his worthless son, then for him to indulge the boy by arranging a concubine would only undermine a father’s authority over his child.

In that case, the matter of daughter-in-laws for the Beizhen manor was the family’s own affair — the Emperor had no need to involve himself any further.

With this settled in his mind, the Emperor spoke with measured calm: “Beizhen Wang does have great hopes for you, however much they go unrewarded. If you are able to apply yourself from this point forward, at least you will have learned something from all this. Besides — you have been in the capital for two years now, and with nothing to occupy your time, it is only natural that trouble follows. As it happens, the Ministry of Works is shorthanded. Go there and learn from Minister Zheng. Whatever you pick up will serve you well when you return to Liangzhou.”

It seemed the Emperor intended to compensate for what had been lacking in the marriage arrangements by opening a path in official service — a gesture that would demonstrate an elder’s regard and care for his kinsmen.

The Ministry of Works, however, occupied the lowest rung among the Six Ministries. It oversaw civil engineering, water conservancy projects, agricultural matters, and hunting prohibitions — all of them exhausting, unglamorous work. There were times when officials were required to travel in person to rural counties, coming home covered in dust and grime.

Assigning a pleasure-seeking young idler to serve in the Ministry of Works was, in truth, not so very different from a form of punishment.

Han Linfeng’s expression tightened at once. He looked up quickly and said: “Your Majesty — might there be something a little lighter?”

The Emperor did not deign to answer. He waved a hand and dismissed him.

Meanwhile, on Luoyun’s side, while Han Linfeng was receiving the Emperor’s instruction, a eunuch had escorted her into the main hall to meet the assembled ladies.

In honor of the Empress’s birthday, those gathered to offer congratulations included not only the harem consorts but also the wives and daughters of various imperial clansmen and high officials.

Matron Yu stood just behind Luoyun, murmuring in a low voice to identify each person as they approached. Luoyun responded to each one in turn, unhurried and correct according to their rank.

Standing behind her, Matron Yu found herself quietly surprised. A good memory might explain much — but why was the girl so utterly at ease? In a gathering of this scale and consequence, where was the nervousness, the agitation? This did not seem like a woman who had grown up in a modest household.

What Matron Yu could not know was that, setting aside the palace consorts and certain high officials she had never met, Luoyun was in fact acquainted with a good half of the noble ladies and young women present — they were her regular customers.

She might even have known more about which great manor’s dogs had recently given birth, and which concubine was currently most in favor with her household’s master, than Matron Yu herself.

For whenever Luoyun attended the various banquets hosted by households she supplied, she could listen over meals and hear a great deal of fresh news and gossip from the servants of those very same households.

As for her bearing and poise — while her mother, Hu Shi, had also been a merchant’s daughter, she had been a woman of great personal cultivation: skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting from an early age, and she had raised Luoyun according to the standards expected of a young lady from a good family. Even on her deathbed, Hu Shi had not forgotten to instruct Su Hongmeng not to let his daughter’s education lapse.

In those first years, Ding Shi had kept up appearances by maintaining the lessons for the sake of propriety and had not reduced Luoyun’s studies. And even after her tutors were reassigned to attend to Su Caijian, Luoyun had been diligent — the arts of tea ceremony and qin music she had quietly taught herself in the years that followed.

Beyond that, when Luoyun later built up her incense business, she had always aimed at the clientele of great houses. Knowing that fine commerce required a thorough understanding of the nobility’s daily habits and tastes, she had applied herself to learning their world with real care.

And so her easy command of etiquette and comportment was not the hasty work of Nanny Xi or Matron Yu — it had been her own, quietly cultivated over many years.

When the round of formal greetings was concluded and the ladies settled into conversation to wait for the Emperor and Empress to enter the hall, this blind young woman of modest origins found herself not in the least awkward, nor forgotten in some obscure corner.

Before she could retreat to the margins, Princess Yuyang called out and invited her to come and sit beside her.

Once seated, the Princess took her hand warmly and asked how she was finding married life, and whether she intended to continue running the Thin Fragrance Studio.

In truth, the Princess’s deeper concern was entirely with the latter question — she had only just found an incense shop that perfectly suited her tastes, and she absolutely could not allow that scoundrel Han Linfeng to ruin it.

Luoyun replied with a smile: “The Shizi is gentle and easygoing, and the wedding ceremonies went smoothly enough. As for my dowry shop — of course it will remain open. We have some new fragrances in stock just recently. I will have someone send a selection over to Your Highness.”

Princess Yuyang relaxed considerably at this. Her greatest worry had been that Luoyun might close the shop; hearing that the fine incense would still be available, she let out a quiet breath of relief.

Though Zhao Dong had given repeated and strict orders that the Princess was to have nothing further to do with Han Linfeng, he had said nothing about the Shizi’s consort — and so Princess Yuyang assured herself that she had not violated her husband’s prohibition.

Besides, the whole story of how these two had come to be married was so peculiar that the Princess was simply too curious to let it alone. And so their conversation wound its way through all manner of questions — whether the Shizi treated her well, whether he had ever lost his temper, whether the wedding night had passed peacefully.

Luoyun maintained a quietly bashful smile, though in truth the Princess’s pointed line of questioning was rather difficult to deflect.

It was at this point that Han Linfeng emerged from his private audience with the Emperor, and finally rescued Su Luoyun from her predicament.

When he greeted Princess Yuyang, however, she made a point of turning her head away and ignoring him entirely.

Clearly the Princess, under firm spousal management, was obediently keeping her distance from those of dubious character.

Han Linfeng was not in the least offended. He laughed the snub off with self-deprecating ease and led Luoyun back to a quiet corner.

As he settled her into her seat, he said: “I was worried you might find yourself at a loss here alone — and instead I find you entirely in your element.”

He was not exaggerating. When he had first entered the hall, he had spotted her already surrounded by three or four noble ladies, all of them apparently deep in cheerful conversation.

Luoyun lowered her head and said quietly: “We are at the moment the freshest news in the capital — who would not want to hear it from the source directly? It is fortunate you returned when you did — otherwise they would have been asking for a full account of last night’s proceedings.”

Having said it, Luoyun felt she had perhaps said rather too much — though she was not wrong. The ladies just now, much like the Princess, had been circling in their conversation toward questions of how vigorous the Shizi had proved on their wedding night, and whether a life of debauchery had left him somewhat diminished.

Only the setting — a grand imperial hall — had prevented the ladies from pursuing that line of inquiry to its conclusion.

Han Linfeng gave a quiet laugh at this. “That you have nothing to speak of with confidence is my failing, not yours,” he said pleasantly. “Shall we work out our account of events when we get home?”

What was there to work out? Even without her sight, Su Luoyun was sorely tempted to roll her eyes at him.

It was at this moment that the Emperor and Empress finally entered the hall. As it was the Empress’s birthday, the assembled officials and guests proceeded one by one to offer their congratulations and present a great variety of precious gifts.

Once the ceremonial wishes had been spoken, the banquet could at last begin.

Su Luoyun was, however, somewhat disappointed to discover that the food served at a grand imperial banquet was either tepid or cold. Each dish rested on a tray of hot water beneath it, but food that had been gently steamed by warm vapor had long since lost the vibrant heat of the cooking fire.

As an ordinary person encountering all of this for the first time, she sampled a few dishes with genuine curiosity — and found that the legendary imperial cuisine was, in truth, rather ordinary.

After a few bites, she lost interest in the food entirely.

For the remainder of the time, she simply listened to the elegant strains of music drifting through the hall, while now and then a eunuch’s sharp, high voice rang out to convey another imperial decree.

On occasions like this, when noble ladies gathered in great numbers, the Empress would generally announce a few pieces of happy news to add to the celebratory air.

Today’s news, however, was delivered by imperial decree from the Emperor himself.

The second young lady of the Duke of Lu’s household had, it seemed, at last made peace with the situation and given her consent to the match arranged by her father and His Majesty — a betrothal to the ninth imperial prince, Prince Rui, Han Mian of Zhi.

Today’s occasion provided the perfect moment for the Emperor to make this announcement in his own voice, proclaiming it for all to know.

It was worth noting that Prince Rui Han Mian of Zhi was ten years Fang Jinshu’s senior and had previously been married. His Wang Fei, however, had met with a tragic fate the previous year during the Lantern Festival, when she slipped on the icy ground within the palace and fell into water — losing both her own life and that of the three-month child she had been carrying.

The ninth prince had grieved deeply and at length. Now that he had found his footing once more, it was only natural that he should remarry.

The ninth prince’s birth mother was the Qiong Consort, currently the most favored woman in the palace.

He was also, after the sixth prince, the most frequently spoken of as a candidate for the position of Crown Prince.

That the ninth prince should now receive an imperial match, becoming a son-in-law of the Duke of Lu’s household alongside the sixth — the implications were not lost on any of the officials present. Each was quietly turning it over in their minds.

The match was evidently not to the Empress’s liking. Though she smiled and listened and gave her gracious nod, it was her own birthday celebration — and she used the excuse of being unable to hold her drink to withdraw early from the banquet.

The sixth prince’s expression was also somewhat strained. The Duke of Lu’s household was one of the great old families of Wei, and had until now been counted among his own supporters. But now their father had made the ninth prince a son-in-law of the Fang family as well — was this not precisely equal footing?

At this thought, Han Zhan of Zhi could not help casting a dark, resentful glance toward the good-for-nothing Shizi lurking in the corner.

That young man appeared entirely at ease — tilting his brow to tease his new wife at this very moment.

He had attendants, and yet he was making that blind wife of his feed him with a spoon. When she missed his mouth, he reached up to pinch her cheek — the expression on his face was that of a small man finally triumphant, settling old scores with great satisfaction.

That insufferable wretch. If he had not caused all this trouble in the first place, the second daughter of the Fang family would have fought to the death to marry him. How had it come to this — the ninth prince reaping the benefit?

With that thought, a whole cascade of grievances came surging into the Prince of Heng’s heart.

Since the bath-hall inspection had yielded nothing, Han Zhan of Zhi had expanded his list of suspects. Anyone who had received one of those golden filigree wish-knots — regardless of whether they had been in the capital at the time — was now included.

Moreover, he intended this time to gather those under the highest suspicion and have them assembled in the same place, bringing the rebel spy before them to identify each from behind, one by one.

According to that rebel, the person in question had been tall in build — which should make identification easier.

But before he had so much as found a thread to follow, something had gone wrong at the Justice Bureau.

The rebel confederate, caught with such difficulty, had been found hanged in his cell with a rope braided from the straw beneath his sleeping mat, suspended from the bars of a ventilation window — and all of this under the very eyes of the prison guards.

It had the appearance of a suicide. Yet Han Zhan of Zhi had promised the man wealth and status, and the man had already given his testimony — he had been waiting only for his account to be verified before his release. What reason could he have had to die now?

That same day, several notorious bandits had been brought into the Justice Bureau for questioning and held overnight before being transferred to the regular prison. When officers were sent to look into it afterward, one of them — a wiry, thin young man — had vanished without trace during the transfer.

By the reasoning of a veteran constable, this matter had been the work of that same young man. He was evidently skilled in contorting his body, able to slip through the gaps in the prison bars, and had improvised the means of killing from whatever was at hand — braiding a rope of straw to strangle the man dead.

It was the silencing of a witness. The hidden hand moving behind this dark fog left the Prince of Heng unable to eat or sleep — he burned to drag the person into the light that very instant.

With the case now adrift of all leads, the mastermind pulling these strings might very well be lurking somewhere in this very hall, amid all this festivity.

And now, on top of everything, he would be made a brother-in-law to the ninth prince — with whom he had never once gotten along.

Were it not for the constraints of their imperial setting, the Prince of Heng would have been sorely tempted to smash a few dishes and say some very unfilial things at the top of his voice.

As for the newly betrothed Fang Jinshu — after accompanying her mother in expressing their gratitude for the Emperor’s gracious decree, she returned to her seat and sat perfectly upright.

Her eyes did not travel to the man who was to be her future husband. They were fixed, unmoving, on the newly married couple in the corner.

Han Linfeng was being so tender with that blind woman — he had reached out in public and touched her face.

What had once been an ardent, consuming infatuation now mingled with a thousand parts of unwillingness, and began, slowly, to grow cold.