People who frequently went out to earn their living—exposed to wind and sun day after day—commonly bore the mark of it on their faces: cheeks burned to a ruddy, darkened red.

Such a mark, therefore, was rarely seen on those of noble birth. It belonged mostly to farmers, or to the sons of river boatmen.

Han Yao had been pampered and sheltered since childhood, and her skin was naturally soft and smooth. But on the long road from Liangzhou, though a carriage had shielded her from the worst of the sun, she had still suffered some exposure.

Under ordinary circumstances, the redness would have faded within a few days, and she had even applied powder to cover it—it was not particularly noticeable.

But once Fang Jinshu drew everyone’s attention to it, all eyes in the room fell upon those slightly peeling, powder-crusted cheeks.

That kind of wind-coarsened redness carried a distinct air of the village woman about it, and several of the less restrained ladies could not help but stifle their laughter.

Han Yao was a girl of only her teens, raised in sheltered comfort in Liangzhou her entire life—how could she bear such treatment? Her cheeks grew hot on the spot, words failing her entirely, which only made them look all the redder.

Around her, there was no shortage of those eager to curry favor, who had clearly read that Second Miss Fang harbored some displeasure toward the people of Prince Beizhen’s household. One after another, under the guise of well-meaning counsel, they began picking apart Han Yao’s clothing and appearance as unsuitable for the capital’s customs.

Their laughter and jabs made the young commandery princess nothing more than a ready target—a source of amusement and entertainment.

In the end, even the eldest Fang daughter grew unable to listen any further.

Just as Second Miss Fang was pressing on relentlessly with her barbs, the Consort of Prince Heng gave an unhurried, deliberate cough and smoothly redirected the conversation to the Sixth Imperial Prince’s matter of setting up an altar and fasting on behalf of the people afflicted by the floods in Yan County—and only thus did she succeed in drawing everyone’s talk elsewhere.

But the scene of the Second Miss of the Lu Ducal household so blatantly humiliating another in public—how could the people of the Jun Ducal household have failed to notice?

Han Yao’s future mother-in-law, the Lady of the Jun Ducal household, kept a smile upon her face throughout, but inside her heart was already burning like a wildfire.

How she resented that her father-in-law had acted entirely on his own all those years ago, binding her third son to this utterly unreliable match.

And Han Yao had not even crossed the threshold yet, and already the Fang sisters could not stand her.

If one day either of those two sisters rose to the position of Empress, would the Jun Ducal household not be dragged down along with it?

So when someone asked about when the two families intended to complete the wedding, the Lady of the Jun Ducal household said coolly, right in Han Yao’s presence: “The times are not particularly favorable at the moment. The common people have suffered from floods and famines year after year, and my lord the Duke, ever mindful of the realm and its people, has spoken to me of delaying our children’s affairs until the world settles down a little. These past few days, I have also been meaning to write to Prince Beizhen’s household to discuss whether it might be best to postpone the wedding date.”

Though the times were not entirely settled, Han Yao had already come to the capital ahead of schedule, which clearly signaled readiness for the marriage. No one had expected the Lady of the Jun Ducal household to raise the subject of postponement openly before all the assembled guests, without a word of prior consultation with Prince Beizhen’s household.

Anyone with eyes to see knew: this was the Lady of the Jun Ducal household expressing her dissatisfaction with the match—and hinting unmistakably at the desire to break the engagement.

Han Yao, who had already been subjected to the assembled noble ladies’ ridicule and commentary as if she were some spectacle for their amusement, could bear no more. Struggling to hold back tears that threatened to spill from her eyes, she rose and excused herself, claiming she was unwell and departing early.

She had not yet made it out of the Prince Consort’s main gate before the young commandery princess had already raised her sleeve to hide her face and broken into open, heaving sobs. By the time she stepped into the carriage, she was crying so hard she could barely breathe.

Nanny Xi, seated beside her, was equally alarmed and distressed. She murmured gentle words of comfort, but Han Yao only cried out bitterly: “Say no more—just let me be quiet for a moment!”

Once they returned to Green Fish Lane, she jumped down from the carriage and shook off the maids and attendants crowding behind her. She ran back to her room alone, shut the door, and wept.

All in all, the first grand banquet the Commandery Princess Han Yao officially attended after arriving in the capital ended in utter humiliation and darkness.

After returning home that day, the commandery princess cried in her room for a very long time—she did not even eat dinner.

That evening, while they soaked their feet together, Su Luoyun asked Han Linfeng whether he ought to go and look in on his younger sister.

Han Linfeng let a maid dry his feet and then put on his house shoes, and sent someone to ask his sister to come to his study.

Her elder brother had personally summoned her—Han Yao had no choice but to go. Her throat had already gone hoarse from weeping, and she could not get any words out for the moment; she could only sit in a chair and sob quietly.

Beside her, Nanny Xi recounted to Han Linfeng everything that had happened at the banquet. The implication woven through her words, stated and unstated, was that the young commandery princess’s grievances could all be traced back to Shizi’s ill-matched marriage.

If he had been willing to marry the second daughter of the Lu Ducal household back then, how could the young commandery princess have ended up subjected to such mockery?

Hearing Nanny Xi say this, Han Linfeng raised his eyes and gave her a long, measured look. Then, in an unhurried tone, he said: “So now you not only wish to oversee the commandery princess’s affairs as her elder—you have also taken it upon yourself to manage mine and the Shizi Consort’s matters as well. In that case, Nanny Xi, would you like to have your name entered into the Han family genealogy, so that you may be fully and properly recognized as one of the masters of this household?”

Nanny Xi had originally intended this as a reminder to the Shizi—that with a wife like this, the road ahead would be difficult and the whole household would suffer for it. She had not expected the Shizi to turn around and rebuke her openly. Naturally, she was deeply displeased.

But since the Shizi had lost his temper, she had no choice but to kneel. Still, she maintained the bearing of a senior retainer who had served two generations, neither abject nor defiant, and said: “This old servant knows she has overstepped. But loyal counsel is harsh to the ear, and for the sake of Prince Beizhen’s household, even at the cost of her life, she must speak plainly. Because of that Shizi Consort, we have thoroughly offended the Lu Ducal household, and now the Jun Ducal household is displeased with us as well. If Shizi does not find a way to appease Second Miss Fang, how are you and the young commandery princess to live peacefully in the capital in the future?”

Han Linfeng was almost amused by the old woman’s performance of the loyal remonstrating minister willing to die for her cause. He gave a brief, quiet laugh, and then turned to address Han Yao directly: “The day Shizi Consort had someone come and invite you to join her, why did you not go?”

Before Han Yao could answer, Nanny Xi cut in: “It was this old servant who stopped the commandery princess. She was in the middle of speaking with the eldest daughter-in-law of the Jun Ducal household at the time.”

Han Linfeng leaned back in his chair and continued speaking to his sister: “You have come from far away and are unfamiliar with the social customs of the capital. Your sister-in-law meant well—she wanted to warn you to leave with her and avoid the people of the Lu Ducal household. But you, as mistress of this household, could not make up your own mind, and disregarded your sister-in-law’s good intentions. And having decided to stay, you could not endure the mockery that followed—you lost your composure and left in a state of distress. Is that how a proper commandery princess of distinguished standing ought to conduct herself? Han Yao—do you honestly believe that even if the Jun Ducal household does not break the engagement, you would be able to establish yourself firmly in the capital on your own?”

Han Yao could not help but raise her eyes—swollen and red from crying—and look up at her brother.

After hearing something so infuriating, he was still the same as ever: composed, unruffled, without so much as a ripple on the surface. She found herself thinking of how their father used to punish him when he was a mischievous boy—a long leather strap striking again and again across the young man’s back—and even then, his face had worn that same faint, detached expression.

Han Yao had always held this elder brother of hers in deep admiration. Though her upbringing in Liangzhou had left her somewhat sheltered, she was not without shrewdness.

After today’s ordeal at the Lu Ducal household, she had come to understand exactly how misguided the nanny at her side had been all along.

She had listened to an old woman from Liangzhou and let herself be steered into presenting the world with the spectacle of a sister-in-law and daughter-in-law at odds with each other. Worse, she had allowed herself to be goaded by Nanny Xi into fawning and flattering the people of the Jun Ducal household, abandoning entirely the dignified bearing proper to a commandery princess of Prince Beizhen’s household.

So when her elder brother’s words had reached this point, she finally stopped crying altogether. With a voice still rough and hoarse, she said: “It is not sister-in-law’s fault at all. I was the one who behaved foolishly—I was greedy to stay and amuse myself, and I brought it all upon myself. Would elder brother be so kind as to write to Father explaining what happened today? There is no need to wait for the Jun Ducal household to break the engagement—let us dissolve the betrothal ourselves first.”

Nanny Xi was startled by these words before they had even fully left the girl’s mouth. She thought the young commandery princess was being dangerously rash. Did she not know how much effort the Princess Consort had expended years ago to secure this match in the first place?

Han Linfeng, however, listened to his sister and gave an approving nod. “The engagement was set years ago at the old Duke’s insistence—it was never truly what the current Duke and his wife wished for. If you are able to make peace with this and move on, that is for the best. But whether or not the betrothal is dissolved is ultimately a matter for both families’ elders to decide together—it is not something you or I can settle on our own. For the time being, stay home and do not go out. If you want some air and distraction, you may go with your sister-in-law to the suburban villa outside the city for a while.”

At this, Nanny Xi made to speak again—but Han Linfeng said in a mild, even tone: “I recently purchased two boatloads of fabric, medicine, and household goods that were already meant to be sent to Liangzhou. These are valuable items, and I would not feel easy sending them without someone I can fully trust to accompany the shipment. I shall trouble Nanny to make the journey—please escort both boatloads back to Liangzhou.”

This was, of course, nothing less than a politely worded dismissal. Nanny Xi was alarmed. The young commandery princess had suffered today, and though she bore some of the blame for it, she had been sent by the Princess Consort—how could she simply be dismissed with a word?

But since the Shizi’s patience had evidently run out, and he appeared to be laying all the fault at her feet without offering her any opportunity to explain herself, he only said mildly: “Although your years of service are considerable, your name has not been entered into the Han family genealogy, which means you remain a servant of the household. If you are unwilling to follow my instructions, you are welcome to first return to Liangzhou, have Father strip me of my title, find someone to take over management of the Shizi’s household, and then we can revisit the matter.”

By now, it was clear that no face was being given to Nanny Xi whatsoever. She stumbled through her apologies, red-faced and flustered, and withdrew.

The ship was to depart quickly—it would set sail in fewer than two days.

And so that all-knowing, high-and-mighty old presence, along with the two other old servants she had brought with her, was packed up and put on the boat together, and sent on their way.

With the old guardian spirit gone from the Shizi’s household, the air in the place became noticeably easier to breathe.

But the matter of the Jun Ducal household’s betrothal remained genuinely troublesome.

Luoyun had not been privy to the storm that had played out in the study that evening.

Afterward, she did ask Han Linfeng what his younger sister Han Yao intended to do. Han Linfeng said lightly: “There is still a year left. If Han Yao manages to win the Lady of the Jun Ducal household’s affection, things may yet work out. If not, the Jun Ducal household will probably do as my former betrothed did—find some high-sounding excuse to break the engagement—and in the end they will each go their separate ways and marry elsewhere.”

Su Luoyun knew the Shizi had his own history of having an engagement broken, and she shifted the subject: “But the commandery princess is a young woman—she has her dignity to consider. Since she has already come to the capital before the wedding and her future mother-in-law is already displeased, why should it be Prince Beizhen’s household that waits for the other party to break the engagement? Surely it would be better for them to be the first to withdraw.”

Han Linfeng said nothing. Su Luoyun immediately felt she had overstepped—after all, she was not truly Han Yao’s sister-in-law. Speaking so freely about this felt presumptuous.

But to her surprise, Han Linfeng did speak: “This betrothal was something Mother put a great deal of effort into securing in the first place. The Jun Ducal household, though not as powerful or prominent as the Lu Ducal household, is still an established family of ancient lineage. When there is a chance to have your daughter leave Liangzhou behind—why would Mother let Father be the one to break the engagement?”

The splendor of the capital was the place Mother had loved most dearly. And yet, having married into Prince Beizhen’s household, she was forever cut off from those gleaming towers and smoky pleasures of the capital.

Getting her daughter settled in the capital was Princess Consort Beizhen’s most deeply held wish.

Su Luoyun understood now. So it had been Prince Beizhen’s household that had reached up to secure the match with the Jun Ducal household. She could only wonder what methods Princess Consort Beizhen had used in those days to attach herself to such a connection.

With this understanding, and thinking back on what she had witnessed at the banquet earlier in the day, Su Luoyun could not help but heave a long, quiet sigh on behalf of her young sister-in-law.

In the days that followed, Han Yao heeded her brother’s words and was reluctant to go out much.

Now that Nanny Xi was gone and there was no one stirring up trouble, she actually found herself spending each day in her sister-in-law’s company, and talked a great deal more than she had before.

Luoyun held nothing back. Over those few days, she shared with the young commandery princess an overview of the dynamics within the various households of the capital, so that if there was ever another banquet, she would not be walking in completely blind.

However, rattled by what had happened before, Han Yao had become somewhat timid about social engagements. The place she visited most frequently each day turned out to be the little courtyard on Sweet Water Lane.

The imperial examinations were only two days away. Every day, Luoyun had the kitchen prepare nourishing tonics and soups to be sent next door. Han Yao, having nothing else to occupy herself with, would tag along to keep watch.

Han Linfeng, finding all the coming and going bothersome, simply had a hole knocked through the shared wall between the two properties—so that the soup could be sent over while it was still piping hot.

When the day of the examinations finally arrived, Han Linfeng accompanied his young brother-in-law to the examination grounds.

Guiyan’s things had been gone over one by one by Xiangcao and Nanny Tian under Luoyun’s instructions, for fear that anything might be overlooked.

The preliminary civil examinations of the Great Wei were not like the formal imperial examinations, which required candidates to remain confined for three continuous days and nights. Still, they were no brief affair—quilts and bedding for warmth also had to be packed, in case the weather turned.

So any family with means arrived with large and small carriages alike; in front of the examination grounds it was a clogged, churning mass of vehicles, and there was no room to worry about whose carriage was beside whose, or whether proximity might raise any suspicions.

After stepping down from the carriage, Han Linfeng simply shielded Su Luoyun, moving her to walk in front of him, while Qingyang and two other guards escorted the young brother-in-law into the examination grounds.

With nothing to do in the hours that remained, they had no desire to return to the household and simply waited in a nearby inn instead. In years past, there had been cases of examinees fainting and being carried out, and so anxious family members generally did not venture far from the examination grounds.

Rooms in the inns around the examination grounds at a time like this were nearly impossible to find at any price. Fortunately, Han Linfeng had sent someone ahead of time to reserve a room—sparing his womenfolk from standing under a blazing sun.

As the bronze gong rang out over the examination grounds, a lifetime of cold-window study came down to this single moment.

Luoyun had been up early that morning, running about in the bustle of seeing her younger brother off, and in truth she was feeling somewhat anxious and flustered—her energy had not been keeping pace.

On top of that, the physician Han Linfeng had brought in from somewhere to treat her chronic headaches with acupuncture had been seeing her every few days; after each session she always felt drained and drowsy.

So once they were settled in the inn room, the sleepiness washed over her again. Her eyes half-closed, she longed for nothing more than to fall asleep at once.

When she got inside, Han Linfeng helped her onto the bed, and she took off her own shoes and lay down, intending only to gather herself for a short while and calm her nerves.

She had not expected to sink into a deep, heavy sleep the moment she closed her eyes.

By the time she finally woke, she suddenly noticed that the pillow beneath her cheek felt rather firm—and warm. She reached out a hand to feel it, and found something warm all around her.

She could not see, of course, but the familiar warmth and the familiar scent told her plainly enough: she appeared to have been using the Shizi’s broad, solid chest as her pillow.

Sharing a bed together in an inn room was, admittedly, a little improper.

But there was only the one bed in the room, and apparently the Shizi had reserved only the one room. The maids and attendants were all waiting in the corridor outside; if he was tired as well, there was truly nowhere else for him to go but share the same bed.

Since she had woken, naturally she ought to yield the bed to the Shizi.

But just as she was carefully feeling her way and preparing to swing her legs over the edge, the man who had appeared to be fast asleep suddenly shifted—and Luoyun tumbled straight onto him.

By some remarkable coincidence, when she landed upon him, her lips happened to press directly against his.

The moment she felt that cool, soft warmth, Su Luoyun immediately tried to push herself up—but a large hand settled over the back of her head and held her still, and then, quite naturally, the kiss deepened.

The sensation of waves crashing over her reason, leaving her dizzy and light-headed, was something she had never experienced in her life before. She only felt her cheeks burning hot, and sensed that the breath against her face was scorching as well.

When they finally managed to part, before she could even begin to voice her reproach, the man beneath her said with perfect innocence: “Why so eager today? I had not even opened my eyes and you had already thrown yourself at me. A pity that Guiyan should be coming out soon—I fear we cannot afford to linger too long…”

Su Luoyun was not without her own sharp tongue—she had almost never lost a verbal skirmish. But what sort of outrageous thing was he saying? He made it sound as though she were the one consumed by hunger and want, desperately eager for his attention.

“You have misunderstood—I—I accidentally fell onto you…”

Han Linfeng gathered her up and set her gently on the edge of the bed, then crouched down and slipped her shoes back onto her feet: “I am your husband, and I am not entirely unpleasant to look at. If you wish to be close to me, it is entirely natural—there is no need to explain yourself. Come now, get up. The examination grounds have already sounded the gong three times.”

Luoyun felt a breath of indignant frustration lodge itself squarely in her chest. She was blind—and yet she was somehow to be convicted of coveting a man’s good looks? Even if hailstones fell in the sixth month of summer, not even that could wash away such a preposterous injustice.

Wait. If he had been asleep, how had he heard the gong three times? He had clearly been feigning sleep all along. And if he had not moved, she would never have tumbled onto him in the first place.

Before Luoyun could manage even a few words of accusation, the Shizi adopted the tone of a man humoring a child and said: “All right, all right—I was the one overcome by your beauty. I took shameless advantage of the opportunity and liberties with you—surely that will do? Stop frowning. When you glare like that, you look exactly like Nanny Xi.”

Su Luoyun was so thoroughly outmaneuvered that she was left without a single word to say—she could only fume and stare in helpless exasperation, inwardly seething: If it were Nanny Xi, could he have kissed her so thoroughly, savoring every last moment?

Han Linfeng looked at his charming wife—those bright almond eyes wide open, cheeks puffed out—and found her utterly endearing. He could not help but bend down and swiftly steal one more kiss, then took her hand and, laughing, strode out of the room in long, easy steps.

Su Luoyun had lived this many years of her life, and only now did she discover that the man she had married was truly a creature of a thousand faces.

At first she had taken him for a dissolute playboy—but then she had glimpsed the depth he kept carefully hidden from the world.

In terms of conduct and character, she had always thought him a refined and principled gentleman. And yet now that they were married, she was beginning to suspect he might actually be every bit the shameless reprobate he had once appeared.

He had kept company with countless beauties before—and who could say with any certainty whether all of that had truly been performance, or something real.

This sudden, unexpected intimacy left her entirely unprepared.

So much so that when Su Luoyun went to meet her younger brother emerging from the examination grounds, her expression was still faintly strained, not quite eased back to normal.

She could not see, so she had no way of knowing that the examinees streaming out wore all manner of expressions—though the vast majority looked utterly devastated, and many rushed to their families the moment they stepped outside to start complaining: “This year’s questions were far too difficult—our teacher never covered any of this!”

Some had already fallen to their knees on the ground and were sobbing openly, declaring they had not done well, that they had let down every lamp burned at home across all those months of study.

When Xiangcao caught sight of young Master Guiyan coming toward them, his expression was somewhat blank and dazed, and for a moment she too felt uncertain. She murmured quietly to Luoyun: “Young Miss… the young master may not have done very well—his face looks a little strange…”

Hearing this, Luoyun felt a quiet pang inside, though outwardly she smiled and stepped forward to meet him: “Good—it is finally over. Put it all out of your mind now, whatever happens. Come to the Shizi’s household for dinner this evening; the Shizi has already had the cook prepare the dishes you like. You can also drink a little wine—have a good, proper rest from it all.”

She did not ask a single question about how the examination had gone—she only hoped her younger brother would keep his heart steady and calm.

She had half-expected Guiyan to resist the invitation to the household; she had even prepared for the possibility, planning to simply have the cook send the food and wine over to the Su family’s small courtyard instead.

To her surprise, Guiyan offered no refusal. By all appearances, he had no objection to going to the household.

Luoyun was a little surprised, and privately her heart sank further—it seemed he had done even worse than she had feared. This child—something about him seemed subtly off.

But when they returned to the Shizi’s household, before the dishes were even laid out, Guiyan could not contain himself and said quietly to his sister: “Sister—can you guess what the examination questions were this time?”

Su Luoyun almost laughed: “How on earth would I be able to guess? Was it something particularly obscure?”

Guiyan suppressed the slight excitement rising in his chest and said in a low voice: “The memory and recitation portions were exactly what the teacher had us learn by heart—nothing unexpected there. But the current affairs section… they asked about agricultural water management.”

When he had unrolled the examination paper, Su Guiyan had never imagined in his wildest dreams that the casual remarks his supposedly useless brother-in-law had made with him in idle conversation would turn out to be precisely what the examination tested.

And the most astounding thing of all was that what the candidates were asked to address was the very flood crisis currently unfolding right now.

Cold sweat had broken out on Su Guiyan’s brow. He genuinely wondered for a moment whether his useless brother-in-law had somehow grown bold enough to have someone steal the chief examiner’s paper and slip him the questions in advance.

But he had wiped away the sweat and forced himself to settle his mind and write his answer. Quite naturally, he set down on paper what Han Linfeng had spoken of that day—thinking ahead, preparing for problems before they arise, and the shared use of water wheels as a practical measure.

Of course, part of him had wanted to speak more boldly and critically—to point out what was wrong and demand accountability. But then he recalled his sister’s earnest words of caution, and dismissed the thought. He aimed instead for something measured and proper—thorough, but not overreaching.

In truth, ever since that day when the Shizi had spoken with him about the Yan County floods, he had made a point of reading up on agricultural water management, somewhat deliberately and somewhat by chance. He was no longer entirely in the dark on the subject.

Compared to the other young candidates sitting around him—faces drawn with distress, scratching their heads and tugging at their ears—Su Guiyan had written quickly.

Listening to this, Su Luoyun’s thoughts ran along exactly the same lines as her brother’s—she too suspected Han Linfeng had used some method or another. She did not think he would have gone so far as to send someone to steal the examination papers himself; knowing him, he was probably perfectly capable of slipping on a set of dark night-roaming clothes and carrying out the crime himself.

Han Linfeng, having caught the edge of his young brother-in-law’s speculation by now, could not help but raise an eyebrow. He had done nothing of the sort. He had simply made a bold guess at what the chief examiner might choose, based on his understanding of that official’s temperament—and who could have known it would hit so remarkably close to the mark.

“That day I was merely chatting idly with you about my own affairs. Although what I said may have given you some direction to think from, the essay itself was written by you in the moment—it really has very little to do with what I said.”

Guiyan thought it over carefully, and it was true: the Shizi had said very little that day—just a few loose, wandering remarks in passing. Perhaps this was simply a case of a blind cat stumbling onto a dead mouse—a lucky guess that happened to land exactly right.

At last the examination was done, and the weight lifted from the young man’s shoulders. Looking now at this so-called useless brother-in-law, who had been a husband to his sister for only a matter of days, he had to admit the man seemed to be treating her well enough.

His sister, since entering the Shizi’s household, seemed to have filled out a little in the cheeks—there was more life in her face than before.

And the two of them—their relationship did not seem as miserable as he had imagined it would be. At the very least, this Han Linfeng, when they sat down to eat, would pick out the dishes his sister liked and place them in the small dish in front of her. When a smear of oil found its way to the corner of her mouth, he would promptly take out a handkerchief and wipe it away for her.

His sister, it was true, did not always seem particularly grateful for these attentions. Once, she had even given the Shizi’s hand a light—neither too hard nor too gentle—little slap.

And that useless brother-in-law of his had not minded in the least. He sat there with his hand freshly swatted, still smiling in complete contentment.

This sort of understated, easy intimacy between them—it really did seem like nothing so different from an ordinary husband and wife.

Translator’s Note — Yun Bin Tian Shang – Chapter 51

This Yun Bin Tian Shang – Chapter serves as a pivotal turning point in Han Yao’s arc. Her humiliation at the banquet—first by Fang Jinshu’s pointed remark about her sun-darkened cheeks, then by the Lady of the Jun Ducal household’s thinly veiled hint at postponing the wedding—strips away the cushion of Nanny Xi’s misplaced guidance and forces the young commandery princess into an uncomfortable but necessary reckoning. Han Linfeng’s response is characteristic: unhurried, measured, and cutting directly to the core of the matter. His rebuke of Nanny Xi is delivered not through raised voices but through the elegant weapon of the Han family genealogy—reminding her that an unregistered servant, however senior, possesses no true standing. The dispatching of Nanny Xi on a shipping errand to Liangzhou is a masterclass in how the Shizi operates: decisive, final, and framed with irreproachable courtesy.

The chapter’s lighter second half belongs to the budding, reluctant tenderness between Han Linfeng and Su Luoyun. The inn room scene is notable for how Han Linfeng manages to engineer both the romantic encounter and the plausible deniability with perfect composure—the feigned sleep, the convenient shift, the innocent expression. That Su Luoyun cannot see him makes her doubly vulnerable to his maneuvering, and yet the narration preserves her dignity: her indignation is entirely justified, and she knows it, even if she cannot prove it. Han Linfeng’s line—comparing her frown to Nanny Xi’s expression—is a deft deflection that doubles as an affectionate tease, and his immediate self-correction (“I was the one who took liberties”) is offered just sincerely enough to defuse the situation without him conceding any real ground.

Su Guiyan’s examination subplot pays off in this chapter: the agricultural water management topic, seeded in an earlier conversation with Han Linfeng, appears on the examination paper, confirming the Shizi’s sharp political instincts while leaving the question of intent strategically ambiguous. Guiyan’s observation of his sister’s improved cheeks and the easy domestic intimacy between the couple closes the Yun Bin Tian Shang – Chapter on a quietly optimistic note—suggesting that whatever the road ahead holds, this marriage has already traveled further than its unlikely beginnings might have promised.