In the young man’s heart there was always his own measure of things. Seeing that Han Linfeng treated his sister with warmth and consideration, and that she was not living in the shame and suppressed misery he had feared, he naturally let go of a great part of his worry.

So when Han Linfeng spoke with him again, the ease in his tone was gradually restored to something close to what it had once been.

And so, at last, brother-in-law and younger brother-in-law were able to sit together and drink in peace.

Luoyun’s heart also released a long, quiet breath of relief. That evening, while soaking their feet together with the Shizi as usual, she thanked him sincerely for the guidance he had given her younger brother.

In this way, there was no longer any need to bring up the awkward kiss at the inn.

But when it came time to sleep that night, Han Linfeng climbed into bed and quite naturally drew her into his arms.

Luoyun genuinely could not recall when, exactly, she and this man had become so intimate with each other.

She still remembered how, after their argument some time ago, the Shizi had slept on the day-bed that had been moved into the room.

But he had been caught there a few times by maids coming in to replenish the hot tea during the night. By the next day, Ji Qiu, Huai Xia, and even Xiangcao had all come to ask her whether she had quarreled with the Shizi again—and Luoyun had grown weary of managing their concern.

So after only a few nights of sleeping apart, the Shizi returned to the main bed. Since Luoyun had firmly refused, the calming incense was not lit again either.

Although the two of them each kept their own separate quilts, at first, having a man beside her meant Luoyun often lay awake for stretches of the night.

But oddly enough, the person sharing her pillow seemed perfectly at ease and drifted off without difficulty. Every time she lay there breathing in the faint sandalwood scent that clung to him, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing, Luoyun’s own heart would gradually settle—and slowly, she would find herself able to sleep as well.

Only lately, the nights had been growing colder. Every morning when she began to surface from sleep, she would find that she had burrowed into his quilt during the night and was waking up nestled against his broad, warm chest.

Luoyun felt her own sleeping habits were quite proper, and suspected Han Linfeng of engineering the situation somehow.

But Han Linfeng said calmly: “After you fall asleep, you always curl up into a ball against the cold and instinctively seek out warmth. When I saw you burrowing in, I didn’t have the heart to push you out—at most, I helped keep you warm.”

What he said seemed to make a certain amount of sense. The nights had been cold lately, and even with a hot water bottle tucked into the bedding, the second half of the night would grow cool again.

She had always been sensitive to cold in her hands and feet, and with a large, living source of warmth suddenly beside her in the bed, it was entirely possible that her hands and feet had their own minds—and once she was asleep, might unconsciously reach toward that warmth without her knowing it.

So after offering a few sincere apologies, Luoyun began tucking the edges of her quilt firmly underneath herself before sleeping each night, wrapping herself up into a tight cocoon and eliminating any possibility of disturbing her distinguished neighbor in the bed.

But no matter how tightly wound the cocoon, when she opened her eyes the next morning, she had always somehow broken free of it and found her way into the Shizi’s quilt again.

Thank goodness she wore enough layers to sleep—otherwise this kind of pressed-together slumber would have been genuinely mortifying.

Habit, it turned out, was a formidable thing. After it had happened enough times, she grew accustomed to it. She could wake to find herself sharing a quilt with him without so much as a blush or a quickened heartbeat.

Recently she had been sleeping soundly through the nights. The man beside her, however, who was always an early riser, had lately seemed particularly inclined to sleep in—he needed her to call him before he would wake each morning. And according to Xiangcao, there were faint shadows under the Shizi’s eyes, as though he had not been sleeping well for some time.

But tonight, after the accidental kiss at the inn earlier in the day, lying beside him again felt a little strange and awkward.

Han Linfeng, however, seemed entirely undisturbed. After lying down, he simply gathered Luoyun’s ice-cold slender hand and tucked it into the warmth of his chest.

“Still this cold. Hasn’t the warming broth the kitchen makes been doing anything for you?”

Luoyun tried to take her hand back, but wrapped as she was in his arms, she had no room to draw away—and the warmth against his chest really was very real. If she could have treated him as a genuine warming pouch, Luoyun would have been tempted to put her cold feet in as well.

The flicker of conflict on her face was genuinely amusing. Han Linfeng watched his awkward false-wife with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and before he could stop himself, he bent down and kissed those soft, fragrant lips again.

When he finally turned his head aside, somewhat reluctant to part, he looked at the young woman whose cheeks had been kissed to a rosy flush. Luoyun’s expression at that moment was deeply conflicted—getting angry didn’t seem right, but pretending nothing had happened didn’t feel right either.

She held herself back for a long moment, then finally said: “This time it was not me who started it…”

Han Linfeng let out a quiet, low laugh: “Ah-Yun is a good girl. It was me who started it—is that acceptable?”

The indulgent, coaxing tone of it was like soothing a child who had been making trouble. This only made Luoyun feel more vexed. She restrained herself for a moment, then finally asked: “Shizi… do you find yourself… bored?”

What Luoyun had actually wanted to ask was: “Do you think me so easy to take advantage of?”

Was that why he felt free to be so presumptuous with her, teasing and toying with her at every turn? But the words reached her lips and she swallowed them back down. After all, she was his wife now—if he wanted to tease her a little, what could she really do about it?

So she rephrased the question. If he was bored staying in the household, that was understandable enough, and she was prepared to fulfill her duties as a proper wife by finding him a few pretty maids or concubines to keep him company.

Han Linfeng seemed to read exactly where her thoughts were headed. His smile faded gradually—but his tone remained gentle: “We have only just been married. There are still many things I want to do together with Ah-Yun. How could I be bored?”

Luoyun ventured carefully: “The Shizi’s career is going well at the moment, and there will always be places to travel and counties to visit. Since I am blind and cannot attend to your daily needs every day, why not select a few pretty, capable girls from within the household to stay at your side—they could take proper care of you at all times. If there is no one suitable in the household, I can have someone look elsewhere and find the right person for you—someone who can serve you properly…”

This time, even without being able to see him, Luoyun sensed that the Shizi had grown annoyed. He abruptly pulled her hand out from where he had been warming it against his chest, and asked in a flat, even voice: “Does Ah-Yun think of me, as the rest of the world seems to, as a man who cannot resist the lure of a pretty face?”

Luoyun thought that a man who went around kissing people at every opportunity could hardly lay claim to being a gentleman in good standing.

But when speaking to the master of the house, one always had to choose words that were pleasant and well-received. You couldn’t rub a horse the wrong way.

She kept her voice mild: “It is simply that the Shizi these past few days… seems somewhat restless—as though he might benefit from a little warmth and attentiveness.”

Han Linfeng broke into a full, genuine laugh this time: “So Ah-Yun does care about me after all. In that case, what I naturally hope for is some warmth and attention from my charming wife—and perhaps that restlessness would ease on its own.”

He had been quite direct about it. Luoyun was not incapable of understanding him—it seemed her modest appeal was enough to catch the Shizi’s eye, at least.

Her feelings toward Han Linfeng had always been complicated.

She had not had much experience being close to any other man. In her time with Lu Shi, she had always been able to read Lu Shi’s thoughts with reasonable accuracy—and for the most part, she had been happy enough to keep that young man pleased.

But she could not see into Han Linfeng’s heart at all. He was older than her, with a depth and complexity to his mind that a small, blind young woman like herself had no hope of seeing through.

Still, she had faintly sensed that Han Linfeng might feel something for her—some degree of genuine liking.

To say nothing of other things: the many ways in which he had helped and looked out for her already seemed to go well beyond what an ordinary person would do for another out of simple goodwill.

The idea of spending some time as his wife in a casual, temporary kind of way—Luoyun had long since talked herself around to the possibility that this might not be entirely out of the question. But if she became entangled with him and fell pregnant by accident, what then?

She was confident she could one day part from the Shizi cleanly, each going their own way. But if there were a child—when he wished to dissolve the marriage, would he let her take the child with her?

Luoyun had understood from childhood what it was to grow up without a mother. She would sooner remain childless for the rest of her life than abandon a child of her own halfway. Not even leaving the child with its own father—that was also out of the question.

But then again… there were physicians who could prescribe herbal drafts to prevent pregnancy. The only question was whether drinking such things regularly would do harm to the body over time.

Having quietly made up her mind, Luoyun sensed he was watching her. She made an effort to smooth her expression, and hesitantly reached out to wrap her arms around his neck, slowly lifting her face and tilting her lips toward his…

But this time, her initiative was met with rejection. Before Luoyun had even made contact, Han Linfeng suddenly pressed her back against the pillow.

Luoyun’s breath caught in her throat. She had braced for a tiger pouncing on a lamb—but instead, he rather brusquely pulled the quilt up over her, tucked the edges in around her carefully, and wrapped her up into a neat, snug cocoon.

Then he pulled a separate quilt over himself, turned his back to Luoyun, and settled in to sleep.

Luoyun had worked up her courage with considerable effort—only to be pushed aside and rejected like this. The indignity of it, the sense of having offered herself forward only to be turned away—

She had not even had time to feel any furtive relief. She only felt that her dignity as a young woman had been thoroughly wounded, and she asked in a muffled, bewildered voice: “Shizi—what is the meaning of this?”

Han Linfeng let out a silent sigh. He was not blind—how could he have failed to see that Luoyun’s face was written through with the magnanimous expression of a person sacrificing herself to feed a tiger?

Although these past few nights of soft warmth beside him had been driving him toward something dangerously close to a hungry tiger himself, he had absolutely no wish to be treated as nothing more than a sudden, convenient urge she was sating.

He lay there now, drew a long, slow breath, and let out another silent sigh. His capacity for restraint, it seemed, had slipped a little lately—he had not held his composure quite as well as he might have.

Particularly when he heard her trying to hurriedly push him off onto some unrelated woman—that had genuinely stirred his temper.

The little snail at his back had just cautiously extended her feelers, trembling, only for him to push her right back into her shell…

Thinking of this, he tried to soften his voice and said: “I have to accompany Lord Li and Prince Heng to Yan County tomorrow and need to sleep early. You should rest as well.”

Luoyun asked nothing further. But she knew: the Shizi was quietly sulking at her.

She just did not know in what way she had managed to displease him. Compared to their previous argument, though, this time—even though both of them were out of sorts—Han Linfeng showed no inclination to retreat to the study. He merely lay with his back turned toward her.

That night, Luoyun slept poorly. The cold crept in from every direction, and even the hot water bottle seemed useless against it.

But when she woke the next morning, she found herself lying properly in her own quilt, the edges still tucked underneath her just as she had arranged them—and for once, remarkably, she had not migrated into the wrong bed in the night.

When Xiangcao came in later that morning to bring water, she noticed that both the young miss and the Shizi had faint shadows beneath their eyes, as though neither had slept well.

By all accounts, the tender, clinging phase of a new marriage should have been tapering off by now—why was the Shizi still keeping the young miss up at all hours? Did he mean to wear out what little health she already had?

The thought made Xiangcao ache with worry.

Ordinarily, these early mornings were the liveliest part of the day between the two of them—usually the Shizi did most of the talking, coaxing the young miss into a good mood. But this morning both of them rose in silence, washed and dressed without a word, and the serving girls throughout the room did not dare make a sound. The stillness was almost eerie, and only made the sparrows outside in the branches seem all the noisier.

Because of the broken levees at Yan County, Lord Li was to travel there with Prince Heng to conduct an inspection. The journey had originally been planned for a few days earlier, but had been postponed out of concern that if the preliminary examinations were underway, Lord Li would not be able to return in time to oversee them.

Now that the examinations were complete, Lord Li had personally presided over the marking of the papers and arranged the rankings. He had instructed his subordinates to proceed with the public posting of results and all related matters, and was therefore free to depart.

Since too many people in the Ministry of Works had been idling their time away, and Li Guitian had taken note of this and had every intention of putting those loafers to rights, Han Linfeng would be accompanying the Ministry of Works officials on their tour of the rural counties—an absence of eight or nine days at least.

When the time came to eat breakfast, it was Luoyun who broke the silence first, asking the Shizi when he intended to leave.

Han Linfeng did answer—but his tone was cool and composed, calm as still water: “I will be leaving shortly. You may rest easy now.”

Xiangcao felt entirely satisfied with this. The Shizi was right! Now at last, the young miss could have a proper, uninterrupted rest!

Before his departure, Luoyun had had maids help pack several trunks of his clothing, prepare a warm fur-lined cloak against the cold, as well as cured meat and smoked duck to eat on the road.

So by the time breakfast was finished, his luggage was already loaded onto the carriage.

This first separation of any length since their marriage began in this way—in silence, with few words exchanged between them.

He had not yet left Green Fish Lane when Han Linfeng was already regretting it: what had come over him? When had he become so incapable of keeping his composure? Had that cold exterior not been icy from the very beginning? He had always known as much—why was he wasting his breath quarreling with her over something so trivial?

Never mind. He would sort it out when he returned.

Han Linfeng turned his thoughts to other things and let the carriage roll steadily forward on its way.

Luoyun’s heart also carried something she could not quite name—a vague, unclear discomfort. She could not even tell, for the moment, whether it was Han Linfeng’s presumptuous liberties that irritated her, or whether it was his inexplicable cold shoulder that was making her feel out of sorts.

Never mind. She would sort it out when he returned.

On the second day after Han Linfeng had left on official business, when Su Luoyun was sitting in her carriage on the way out of Green Fish Lane, the carriage was suddenly brought to a halt by a young woman who flung herself into its path.

Xiangcao leaned out to look—and recognized her at once. Was this not the young woman called Hongyun, who had frequently accompanied the Shizi on his outings about town before his marriage?

As it happened, Hongyun was a proper licensed courtesan who had been paraded through the streets in her time. Over the years she had managed to save up a tidy sum of money, and her one abiding hope was to use her youth while she still had it and find someone who could take her off that life.

Among all the distinguished guests she had served and flattered over the years, only Han Linfeng stood out—his looks were the finest of them all, and she felt she could never quite see through him, which kept her endlessly intrigued.

Although he caroused and made merry like other scions of noble families, toward women like herself from the pleasure quarters he always maintained a certain distance—present but not quite there, close but never quite within reach.

He was generous with his money, yet seemed extremely particular about women. When the two of them were alone together, something as small as a scent of rouge that was too heavily applied, or a powdered fragrance that was too garish, or a style of makeup that did not suit her—any of these could cause his interest to cool entirely.

A man so particular, so unpredictably hot and cold—and yet Hongyun found she could not bring herself to give up on him.

Then one day, without knowing what she had done to displease him, he simply stopped coming to find her.

When she asked around, she learned that the Shizi of Prince Beizhen’s household had already married—and had taken a wife of entirely unsuitable rank: a blind young woman from a minor merchant family.

Hearing that he had married a blind girl from a small household, Hongyun suddenly felt that perhaps she was not so entirely hopeless after all—her history in the pleasure quarters seemed a little less contemptible by comparison.

What she resented was that wretched Second Miss Fang, who had stirred up so much trouble and forced her apart from the Shizi at the very moment when their feelings had been at their most tender.

Having attributed all of Han Linfeng’s coldness to Fang Jinshu, Hongyun was far from reconciled to her situation.

It was by chance that she heard a rumor: the blind Shizi Consort had apparently sent her attendant Nanny Tian to inquire about the Shizi’s personal preferences, with the apparent intention of purchasing maidservants to bring into the household and help the Shizi Consort secure her husband’s favor.

And so Hongyun made up her mind at once. She paid out her own savings to buy back her freedom and, once free, came with her maid to stop Su Luoyun’s carriage.

Hongyun was a bold sort of woman. At first, when she laid eyes on Luoyun, she was briefly taken aback by her striking appearance—

But she recovered quickly, and with a delicate, sorrowful expression began telling Su Luoyun the story of how deeply the Shizi had cherished her, how if only one person had not interfered and forced them apart, theirs would have been a love story worthy of being set to verse and told for generations.

If the Shizi Consort were broad-minded and magnanimous enough to allow her to serve at the Shizi’s side, she would show every deference to the Shizi Consort, and would serve willingly as a maid or as an attendant—whatever was asked of her.

Luoyun had no wish to stand in the middle of the street making a scene with a woman from the pleasure quarters, so she selected a quiet, out-of-the-way tea house and sat down with Hongyun for a brief conversation.

She knew that Han Linfeng had seemed genuinely fond of this Hongyun at one time—apparently he had quarreled with Second Miss Fang in public on her behalf on more than one occasion.

If what Hongyun said was true—that the Shizi had been held back from bringing her into the household only because of Luoyun’s presence—then there was really no need for that. A nominal wife like herself, borrowing the authority of someone else’s name, had no business standing in the way of a man’s personal affairs.

That said, she did not actually believe that Han Linfeng’s growing distant from Hongyun had anything to do with any fear of Fang Jinshu. More likely he had simply lost interest on his own, and that was why the beauty had been left in the cold.

Listening to Hongyun recount again and again the deep and winding love she and Han Linfeng had shared, Su Luoyun felt, for reasons she could not entirely explain, a faint, inexplicable heaviness in her chest.

Her thoughts drifted to how Han Linfeng had told her that he liked her too. Such an easily spoken word—was it perhaps no different from how he had once liked this Hongyun? What had not yet been obtained was pursued with longing and yearning; once it was in hand, perhaps it could be discarded just as easily.

But Hongyun, for her part, was absolutely determined to enter the household. To prove to the Consort that she had the ability to help her secure her husband’s favor, she immediately had her maid set up the zither, and proceeded to give Luoyun—whose eyesight prevented her from appreciating anything visual—a thorough demonstration of her musical skill, followed by a singing voice that wound and trilled like a golden oriole.

Luoyun gave an appreciative nod. This woman was not for nothing a ranking courtesan—she was truly accomplished in many arts.

She was not a madam running an establishment, and had no desire to prolong the interview. So she rose and said to Hongyun: “You are an old acquaintance of the Shizi’s. What becomes of you going forward is something only the Shizi can decide—it is not within my authority to determine. But in any reputable household in the capital, there is no practice of admitting a woman who has held a lowered social registry to enter through the front gate. Even if you were to follow the Shizi in the future, it would most likely only be as an outside mistress kept in a separate residence. I will have someone arrange temporary lodging for you in the meantime—when the Shizi returns, speak to him yourself.”

Hongyun was greatly disappointed to hear this, but there was nothing else to be done. When the Shizi returned from Yan County, she would use every means at her disposal to ensure he agreed to take her into the household.

And so Luoyun instructed a manservant to arrange a courtyard for Hongyun to stay in temporarily, to await the Shizi’s return—at which point he could decide the fate of this former favorite on his own.

Coming out of the tea house, Luoyun gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. Perhaps this was just as well. She, the nominal wife in name only, could gradually be set aside and left to gather dust.

In truth, she and Hongyun were rather alike when held up against that man—both of them showed their naivety against his depths. Neither of them could truly hold him.

She had none of Hongyun’s tenacity, or Second Miss Fang’s willingness to rise up again and again after every setback. She had no desire to pit herself against any fearsome creature.

Toward that man, all she needed to keep was respect and gratitude. That would be enough.

Two more days passed, and at last the day arrived for the preliminary examination results to be posted.

Luoyun had Manager Geng summoned, along with two tall manservants, and sent them to the Su family’s small courtyard to wait and accompany Guiyan to see the posted results.

But before they could even leave, Su Hongmeng had already come running all the way over, gasping and out of breath: “The exam—the exam—my son Guiyan has placed first—first on the list!”

It turned out that Su Hongmeng had set out before dawn, taking Su Jinguan and Su Jincheng with him, to go and see the results posted.

His own career had never gone anywhere, and he had placed all of his hopes entirely onto his sons—if even one of the three could distinguish himself and rise in the world, it would mean that all his suffering had finally led to something.

When the results were posted, he had pushed his way to the very front of the crowd and watched as the officials pasted up the list. Because the list was so long it had been split into two sheets.

The official pasted up the second sheet first, and then the first.

Knowing more or less the measure of his three sons’ ink and learning, Su Hongmeng began searching from the bottom of the list upward. To his surprise, he searched all the way through without finding any of the three brothers’ names.

When the remaining sheet was put up, he again worked from the bottom toward the top—and by the time he reached the front of the list, he had nearly given up hope entirely. And then, at the very first position at the head of the list, he saw the name Su Guiyan.

Su Hongmeng was convinced in that moment that his eyes were playing tricks on him. He rubbed them several times, confirmed again and again that there was no one else by the same name—and only then did he give way to wild, uncontrollable joy and run all the way back to Sweet Water Lane to bring the news.

Su Luoyun, worried her father might have made some mistake, quickly sent Guiyan off with people to verify—but before they could even make it out the door, the official herald sent from the government offices to deliver the glad tidings had already arrived with his entourage, banging gongs and beating drums.

His very first words were a resounding congratulation to the young master of the Su household on placing first.

Furthermore, for this particular round of preliminary examinations, the Emperor had personally designated that the top candidate was to be received at court for a formal audience.

Being summoned to court following the preliminary examinations was no trivial thing—it was not merely a matter of receiving praise and commendation. If the first-place candidate conducted himself well during the audience and caught the Emperor’s eye, he would be recognized as a rare talent come into the world fully formed—and the Emperor might grant him an exceptional appointment ahead of the normal process.

While it was uncommon for a boy of his age to hold official rank, every few years the Emperor had been perfectly willing to use such occasions as a demonstration that the Great Wei was abundant with gifted young minds.

Luoyun had never imagined her younger brother could have done so brilliantly. In the midst of her overwhelming joy, she did not forget to have Xiangcao bring out silver to tip the herald generously—and then she went to the small family shrine and lit incense to bring the news to their mother.

Su Hongmeng was so beside himself with excitement that he told Su Guiyan to hurry back to the main Su household at once—he was going to hold a grand banquet and invite friends and family to celebrate, and sweep away all the bad fortune that had hung over him these past months.

That widow from the Xie family had been coy and difficult about agreeing to the match, sitting on the fence and looking for a better offer. But now his own legitimate son had achieved this—he was about to have an audience with the Emperor.

When you thought about it, what did that widow’s county magistrate brother amount to? Once his son had been awarded a high post by the Emperor, he could find a replacement wife from a marquis family and it would be no less than he deserved!

Guiyan had no fondness for returning to the main Su household, but his father pressed him repeatedly and he could not bear to spoil the mood. Luoyun calculated that his father, with a celebration feast going on, would also be collecting red envelope gifts and turning a tidy little profit—and if she obstructed him, there would be nothing but complaints to deal with. So she let it go and allowed him to do as he wished.

Su Hongmeng had endured his run of bad luck long enough—he finally had his moment in the sun. He threw a lavish feast and proceeded to hold forth to friends and relations at great length about the difficulties of cultivating such a remarkable talent.

Unfortunately, those friends and relations all knew perfectly well that it was the blind daughter of the Su household who had led her younger brothers out and raised them on her own. Not a soul took his words at face value.

Among the more tactless guests who delighted in picking at sore spots, one deliberately asked Master Su: since the legitimate son who had moved out to study under his elder sister had managed to place this high, the two brothers Jinguan and Jincheng who had stayed at his side must surely have done quite well too?

Master Su could only smile and play the fool—while inwardly cursing the questioner for having no idea what side of the bread to butter.

Translator’s Note — Yun Bin Tian Shang – Chapter 52

Yun Bin Tian Shang – Chapter 52 operates on two levels: the private negotiation of closeness between Han Linfeng and Luoyun, and the public eruption of good news in the Su family. The opening section continues the thread from Yun Bin Tian Shang – Chapter 51, picking up the emotional aftermath of the inn kiss through a quiet, domestic register—the shared bed, the cold hands, the slowly accumulating habits of proximity. The central irony is that when Luoyun finally steels herself and makes a gesture toward intimacy, Han Linfeng turns her away—not from indifference, but from pride. He can read clearly on her face the expression of someone making a noble, self-sacrificing offering, and refuses to accept it on those terms. His sulkiness afterward is revealing: beneath the composed exterior is a man who wants to be wanted, not merely accommodated.

The arrival of Hongyun gives Luoyun her first unmediated view of what Han Linfeng was before their marriage—and her response is notably unsentimental. She neither fights for her position nor collapses into jealousy. She arranges Hongyun’s temporary lodging, defers the question to the Shizi’s authority upon his return, and walks away with a small, private laugh. The faint heaviness in her chest she cannot quite explain is the novel’s most restrained admission yet that her feelings are more complicated than she has been willing to acknowledge.

Su Guiyan’s triumph closes the Yun Bin Tian Shang – Chapter on a note of bright, raucous joy—with the additional pleasure of Su Hongmeng being skewered in public by his own guests for taking credit he has no right to claim. Guiyan placing first and being summoned to an imperial audience sets the stage for significant narrative developments ahead, extending Luoyun’s protective investment in her younger brother’s future into the world of court politics.