His Majesty had set the tone for this court dispute, leaving others little room to stir up further trouble. Though the Sixth Prince’s campaign to censure his ninth younger brother had begun with great fanfare, it ended rather abruptly.

The Sixth Prince, King Heng, was deeply displeased, yet could only vent his frustrations on the corrupt officials of Yan County, conducting harsh investigations along the way and managing to strike down quite a few of the Ninth Prince’s men in the Ministry of Finance.

Of course, the Sixth Prince was not entirely willing to let the matter rest. He sent men to pressure Official Li, hoping to make him read the situation clearly and work with him to conduct a deeper investigation into the Ninth Prince.

Unfortunately, Official Li was severely dehydrated and running a persistent high fever, completely unable to speak to anyone.

As for that Beizhen Shizi — a useless piece of cake, fit only to be used as a chess piece, and a rotten move at that.

How infuriating that such a perfect opportunity had been muddled away by his royal father at the last moment.

The Sixth Prince had no choice but to relent. On the surface, he made his apologies to his ninth younger brother, Prince Rui, claiming that everything had been done in the interest of state affairs, with absolutely no personal animosity or deliberate suppression intended.

The Ninth Prince smiled with his lips but not his eyes, and remarked with deep meaning that he would remember this instance of his imperial elder brother’s painstaking efforts to promote him, and that they could settle accounts slowly at a later time.

Now, regarding the earlier childhood examinations — His Majesty had issued an imperial decree to summon the top-ranked candidate for an audience.

Su Guiyan had begun preparing for the imperial audience early.

The examination papers had originally been reviewed with the names sealed. It was only after the papers were unsealed that Official Li discovered that this outstanding essay had been written by the Beizhen Shizi’s young brother-in-law.

In the past, he would have merely thought it a strange novelty — a fine melon grown from saline-alkaline soil.

But now, reflecting on the steady and grounded perspective Su Guiyan had demonstrated in his paper, he saw a resemblance to his brother-in-law Han Linfeng’s own manner of keeping a low profile and remaining composed in the face of danger. His admiration only deepened.

If it were up to him, such a talent ought to be given an important position. The Ministry of Finance had recently lost quite a few men, and if possible, he would gladly recommend this young gentleman to go to the ministry for practical training.

However, when he tactfully hinted at this intention, Han Linfeng personally wrote a letter to Official Li.

The gist of it was that Su Guiyan was still young, and his essay had merely shone brightly for a moment, earning undeserved favor from the official and His Majesty. He lacked sufficient experience, and a sudden elevation to a high position would likely cause him to lose sight of his own limitations. Should His Majesty wish to show favor to his young brother-in-law and bring him into government service, Han Linfeng hoped Official Li would lend his assistance — and that the best arrangement would be to place him in the Hanlin Academy as a clerk, starting from the lowest position, studying alongside scholars well-versed in classical texts, and gradually improving himself from there.

The letter was written with great humility. Moreover, what it requested was not an “official post” of rank, but rather the position of “clerk” — managing documents without any formal grade or title.

It was evident that the Shizi understood that with the heir to the throne not yet established and factional disputes rife throughout the court, it was no place for an inexperienced young man to navigate without misstep.

He hoped Official Li would help by placing his young brother-in-law in the Hanlin Academy, sheltered from the storms of court politics, where he could focus on compiling documents and composing literary works.

A life-saving grace deserves repayment in full measure — let alone that this Shizi was using back-channel influence not to seek a high position, but a low one. Yet in Official Li’s view, to have the young Master Su serve merely as a clerk would truly be a waste of talent. Since he now understood Han Linfeng’s intentions, he would naturally do his best to arrange things accordingly.

Before the top candidate from this round of childhood examinations was brought to court, His Majesty personally read Su Guiyan’s essay and was greatly pleased, finding it remarkable that someone so young could write so practically about agricultural affairs — truly a pillar of the nation.

When he asked the chief examiner Official Li whether this young man ought to be given an exceptional appointment into government service, Official Li returned the favor in kind. Following the Shizi’s request, he presented to His Majesty that the Hanlin Academy was currently in the midst of compiling the historical records of the Great Wei dynasty and was short of capable men — might this talented young man be assigned to the academy to assist with editing and compiling the chronicles?

His Majesty, no longer needing to arbitrate between his two sons, was looking upon Official Li with considerable favor of late, and for such a small matter naturally deferred entirely to the official’s wishes.

Thus, His Majesty summoned Su Guiyan and, after gently asking him about the topics covered in the examination, found the young man to be steady and modest in disposition, and duly appointed him to the Hanlin Academy at the rank of Senior Compiler, seventh grade of the first rank.

As for the fact that he happened to be the Beizhen Wang Manor’s young brother-in-law — that was of little consequence. Bestowing favor on a seventh-rank official who dabbled in literary matters was nothing remarkable.

For a young man who had only just passed the childhood examinations, this was truly an exceptional appointment. Though the position of Compiler was a leisurely one, overseeing poetry, songs, and the compilation of classical texts, it was a legitimate seventh-rank official post — for someone of his age, the prospects were boundless.

For a family like the Su family, with no established roots, entering government service without a guide would inevitably lead to missteps. Social relationships and human dealings are themselves a form of learning, at times far more complex than the classical texts in books.

Yet Su Guiyan now counted as Official Li Guitian’s formal protégé. From the moment he entered the Hanlin Academy, he would have Official Li to guide him — a smooth and favorable start, sparing him many difficulties along the way.

As Han Linfeng had said, though the Hanlin Academy was not without its politically active scholars, the great majority were bookish purists wholly devoted to their texts and scholarly research, with little connection to the powerful aristocratic clans entrenched in court. That kind of environment was comparatively uncomplicated.

Su Luoyun was deeply grateful to Han Linfeng for his thoughtful arrangements on her brother’s behalf. Her brother now had a salary and could finally stand on his own — she, who had been like a mother and elder sister to him, could breathe a sigh of relief at last.

Han Linfeng was not Su Guiyan’s elder brother, yet he was more considerate and attentive than any true elder brother could be.

Yet when Su Luoyun expressed her thanks, Han Linfeng seemed less than satisfied: “Why are you being so formal with me? Besides, I was worried Guiyan might resent me for obstructing his future. If he can understand my intentions behind this arrangement, I shall be at ease.”

Su Luoyun was seated beside his writing desk, her sleeves rolled up as she ground ink for him. Hearing him say this, she laughed: “He may be young, but he’s not without sense! If he entered a vital post in court at such a young age, would he not be devoured entirely by those tigers and wolves, leaving not even scraps behind? And besides, the Hanlin Academy houses many great scholars he has long admired — he’s probably overjoyed rather than resentful!”

Though Han Linfeng was solicitous about his young brother-in-law’s prospects, he himself maintained an attitude toward official duties much like attending a funeral — openly and without shame, he had submitted a request for medical leave. After all, having been stranded for days and nights in floodwaters, a pampered Shizi naturally required careful recuperation before returning to the Ministry of Works.

During this period, he had brought Su Luoyun to a quiet country estate on the outskirts of the capital to recuperate. Eating Old Cui’s communal pot cooking had actually done quite well in restoring his depleted constitution.

Today, with nothing particular to do, he proposed painting a portrait of Su Luoyun.

During the trip to Yan County, he had been separated from her for such a long stretch of time, often without anything to ease his longing. In future official duties, if he could carry a small likeness with him, it would help dispel the yearning.

Su Luoyun was reluctant at first, but could not resist his persistence, and so she settled into the carved high-backed chair in the study, holding a round fan in a proper, composed posture, and allowed him to paint.

Han Linfeng complained that he could not see clearly enough, and simply moved his table beside her to paint.

Though Su Luoyun could not see, she had the distinct feeling he was sitting far too close to her. She could not tell which mole on her face he found difficult to make out, necessitating him to lean in so near.

When his long fingers suddenly and gently stroked her cheek, Su Luoyun said helplessly: “Weren’t you supposed to be painting a portrait? What are you touching my face for?”

Han Linfeng lifted the corners of her mouth with his finger: “There’s not a single smile on your face. Should I paint a great bitter gourd to carry around with me?”

Su Luoyun burst out laughing: “You’re sitting so close, it’s terribly uncomfortable — how am I supposed to smile?”

Han Linfeng watched as the little bitter gourd’s smile bloomed open, and could not help but lean down and press his lips to her rosy mouth.

Su Luoyun, seated in the chair, had no time to dodge, and could only let him kiss her. She herself could not quite fathom how she had grown so intimate with this man.

At first, she had merely held him in respect. When she came to know of the other face he concealed, fear was added to it. Now that they had been married for over two months and spent their days and nights together, an inexplicable and peculiar closeness had been added to the mix, one that defied description.

Though he had not yet taken that final step, ever since they returned from the ordeal at Yan County, the cold war between them had dissolved of its own accord, and they seemed to have grown even closer than before.

At the very least, the two of them now slept under the same quilt.

Su Luoyun felt that she had formerly held too idealized an image of Han Linfeng — what upright gentleman, what paragon of virtue? There was simply no such thing as a cat in this world that disdained the taste of meat!

On cold winter nights, nestling together for warmth was all very well, but he always had to do something affectionate, and it was genuinely difficult to fend off.

The way things stood now, she could no longer in good conscience call herself a pure and untouched maiden — nearly everything that ought to be taken, he had not neglected, and he still looked rather unsatisfied.

And yet, being married to him was not as arduous as she had imagined.

Though their marriage had come about suddenly, most couples in the world muddle through somehow. Su Luoyun decided there was no need to think too far ahead — it was best only to cherish what lay before her, and to continue moving forward one step at a time.

The portrait was finally finished after considerable effort. A maidservant brought in medicinal ointment and gauze to change the dressing on the Shizi’s left arm.

Su Luoyun asked Xiangcao to look at the portrait and tell her how it had turned out.

Xiangcao tilted her head to look, and said softly: “It’s painted beautifully — but the painting shows the young lady in the neighboring courtyard holding a cat, nothing at all like the pose you were making just now.”

In the portrait, the young woman had a snowy neck and rosy cheeks, her hair still arranged in the style of an unmarried girl. She was bowing her head to stroke a snow-white lion cat nestled in her arms, surrounded by clusters of blossoms — a picture of perfect serenity.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but this Shizi evidently possessed genuine skill in painting — hardly something that could be cultivated in a day or two.

This was a scene from the young lady’s daily life before she had left her family home. But for the Shizi to have been able to paint this — no matter how one looked at it, he must have spent no small amount of time peering over the wall at her.

Su Luoyun listened in silence. Hearing Xiangcao’s stream of admiring remarks, she could not help but blush.

Had he been sneaking glances at her all that time? Otherwise, how could he have painted such a lifelike likeness without even needing her to pose?

Han Linfeng had only injured his left arm. He could paint, but he could not feed himself. Each mealtime, he still had to be fed by Su Luoyun.

Su Luoyun, unable to see, would scoop up food with the spoon, and then the Shizi had to lean his mouth down to find it himself. Each meal took a great deal of time.

After the dressing was changed, it was already time for the midday meal again.

Su Luoyun had only fed him two bites when an unexpected visitor arrived. It turned out to be Su Luoyun’s uncle, Hu Xuesong, who had tracked them down to the country estate.

After he had escorted the Shizi back to the capital, he had returned to assist the water forces in their retreat and to rescue the commoners stranded by the floodwaters in the counties and villages.

At the time, the two princes had been busy racing back to the capital to quarrel, and Yan County’s follow-up affairs had been left to the local officials with no dedicated overseer. Hu Xuesong had voluntarily remained behind to coordinate boats for the rescue effort, moving the people and their belongings to safety — lending whatever strength he could.

Yet watching the people displaced and destitute weighed heavily on Hu Xuesong’s heart. He had returned to the capital this time to accompany the local officials of Yan County in requesting the allocation of disaster relief grain.

But with the national treasury’s grain stores running short, even though they had gone around with the humblest of attitudes — no better than beggars pleading their case at every turn — they had been met with nothing but rebuffs, and could only return empty-handed.

Hu Xuesong thought to visit his niece before leaving the capital, to say his farewells.

Han Linfeng, seeing that her uncle had come, naturally asked him to stay for a drink before he departed.

And so the two men, not particularly well acquainted, sat together beside Old Cui’s earthen stove and began to drink heartily over the iron pot.

The bonds of brotherhood between men do grow with particular swiftness inside a cup of wine.

Hu Xuesong had always harbored a degree of suspicion about his niece’s sudden marriage. He had heard many unfavorable rumors — all saying that the Shizi had used underhanded means to coerce Su Luoyun into submission.

Yet seeing is believing.

Su Luoyun, though sightless, was busy feeding Han Linfeng, all the while softly reminding him to be careful of his wound and not to drink too much — her care and tenderness entirely unfeigned.

Moreover, Su Luoyun had personally written to him asking him to help search for Han Linfeng’s whereabouts.

Knowing Su Luoyun as he did, if the Shizi had used force, someone with her fierce temperament would have harbored the resentment silently in her heart and never forgiven him for the rest of her life.

By that point, his niece, rather than following in the footsteps of the notorious Pan Jinlian, would not have been above quietly mixing a thick, potent poison into the Shizi’s drink. How then would she have personally sought help to rescue him?

Su Luoyun was not the kind of woman who would simply resign herself to fate the way ordinary girls did — marrying a chicken, follow the chicken; marrying a dog, follow the dog!

As things stood now, this young couple seemed utterly devoted to one another, very much the picture of newlyweds. With that, Hu Xuesong finally put his misgivings entirely to rest.

Su Luoyun had once vaguely explained to him that the two had been neighbors who often crossed paths, and over time feelings had developed. Hu Xuesong, being a straightforward man, was not the sort to dig to the roots and ask after the particulars of how they had come to know one another.

Instead, emboldened by the wine, Hu Xuesong vented the helpless frustration of being unable to do more about the situation in Yan County.

He had seen with his own eyes a woman who bit open her own fingers so that her wailing, hungry infant could suckle the blood. Such a scene was enough to undo any warm-blooded man.

Listening to his uncle recount the desolate and broken human tableau of Yan County, even the finest wine became difficult to swallow.

Han Linfeng listened quietly, then said slowly: “If grain does not arrive, I fear more people will starve to death than ever drowned.”

This breach of the river embankment had submerged three townships. Because floodwaters had been anticipated in advance, the greater part of the population had evacuated early, and the casualties were not as severe as they might have been.

Yet with the fields inundated, the people had no means of securing a year’s worth of food. Without several months of provisions stored up, it was likely to cause an even greater upheaval.

For a time, the only sound in the country estate was the crackling of firewood, and everyone fell into silence.

Hu Xuesong, worked up to a pitch of agitation, slammed his cup down hard: “Every time I come to the capital, I see the feasts of the powerful and privileged flowing without end — food and drink in abundance, as if it were a golden age of peace and prosperity. If only these noble figures would venture out and see what life is actually like for the common people! If this continues, I fear we may yet witness the human tragedy of parents trading children to eat. It sickens me that this brute strength of mine is utterly useless — it would be better to strip off my official robes and rob the rich to feed the poor!”

Su Luoyun, seeing that her uncle had spoken out of turn, quickly felt her way to pour a cup of tea and handed it to him: “You’re drunk. Have some tea to steady yourself.”

His tirade against the privileged had swept up Han Linfeng and the imperial family in its wake, and Su Luoyun naturally felt compelled to redirect the conversation.

Yet Han Linfeng pushed Su Luoyun’s tea aside and poured Hu Xuesong another cup of wine: “Even if uncle did not say so, we of the imperial family ought to reflect on ourselves. There is no one else in this estate. Let him speak freely — let it be a release, for after all, uncle must return to Yan County and once again face those wretched scenes in the countryside. If he cannot let himself unwind, how will he endure it?”

Hu Xuesong realized he had spoken out of turn and clasped his hands together in an apology to Han Linfeng, then sighed: “What good does it do to give one’s mouth free rein? It still solves nothing.”

Han Linfeng offered some reassurance: “Uncle, do not worry. The court understands the importance of keeping the people’s hearts settled. Official Li has already ordered the Ministry of Works to refit several ocean-going vessels in preparation for transporting grain from elsewhere. But the immediate and pressing need is to set up congee stations to relieve the disaster victims…”

At this, both men fell silent again.

Su Luoyun had been listening quietly beside them all along. At this point, she spoke up in a measured tone: “If one wishes to procure grain urgently, there is actually another way — though it does somewhat run afoul of the law…”

Both men’s gazes turned toward her. Su Luoyun cleared her throat and said: “Because I purchase spices, I frequently visited the dock markets, and I would hear the boat hands who ran cargo routes say that in these past few years, grain has sold far better than spices — especially when transported north, where it can fetch three times the price. So many grain merchants have spent these years hoarding it, stockpiling grain to transport north and sell…”

Hearing this, both Han Linfeng and Hu Xuesong understood immediately. The north was where Cao Sheng was recruiting soldiers and expanding his forces, and grain was naturally in short supply there. The grain that was being channeled northward was, for the most part, being sold to Cao Sheng.

His reputation among the people was quite high, and many wealthy gentry were willing to put up funds to support his campaign to reclaim lost territory, so he was generous when it came to purchasing grain.

Su Luoyun continued: “However, grain merchants have not had an easy time of it lately. His Majesty has been cracking down on private traders, and at the same time, in order to cut off the grain routes to the northern territories, border checkpoints have become far stricter than before. Many grain merchants cannot get their private stock transported out, yet they refuse to sell at low prices, so the grain sits rotting with insects in their storehouses. If there is a way to procure this private grain, it should be able to relieve the crisis in Yan County.”

The Great Wei’s grain and salt prices were set by public decree and could not be arbitrarily raised. If sold at the official price, this grain would certainly not fetch a high sum.

Merchants of their kind rose and acted only for profit — they were counting on exploiting the chaos of the flood to enter the market at inflated prices.

Hu Xuesong was a naval officer who oversaw the purchasing of supplies, and hearing his niece’s words, he understood immediately. If they could purchase private grain, it would indeed ease the crisis in Yan County.

The problem was that the authorities were conducting a tight crackdown at the moment. If caught, it would be a crime punishable by decapitation. None of this private grain would surface openly — where would one go to find it? And if the price was too high, where would they procure the silver to buy it?

Han Linfeng said calmly: “I have some personal assets — not a great deal, but they may be sufficient to relieve the most pressing needs of the Yan County people. The question is, does my Ayun have any connections to find those private grain dealers?”

But Hu Xuesong felt it exposed his niece to too much risk, and immediately objected: “Even in the name of disaster relief, this still involves buying private grain. If caught, the charges could be serious or light, but this… may not be appropriate.”

Su Luoyun, however, had already worked out a plan. She said: “According to Great Wei law, grain and oil donated to temples as religious offerings are exempt from additional taxation. Once the grain merchants are found and a price negotiated, have them donate the grain to the temples in Yan County. The temple monks can then pay the dealers the cost of the grain under the guise of transportation fees. Finally, the monks can organize congee stations to distribute porridge to the disaster victims. This way it passes through legitimate channels and need not pay additional taxes. The Shizi encountered danger and returned safely — that is the Buddha’s blessing. It is perfectly reasonable and appropriate for the Beizhen Wang Manor to donate funds, invite eminent monks to perform merit-making ceremonies, and conduct religious rites.”

Having spent much time among the ladies of noble households listening idly to their everyday talk, she was aware that certain down-at-the-heel families sometimes supplemented their income through unofficial means, and naturally knew the ins and outs of such religious rites — she had an idea formulated in an instant.

Han Linfeng and Hu Xuesong both found her strategy of concealing one’s true intentions behind a guise to be wonderfully clever.

After the three of them had settled on a plan, Hu Xuesong’s spirits lifted considerably. He decided to remain in the capital for a few days to help Su Luoyun track down those private grain dealers.

But after her uncle had retired to his room to rest, Su Luoyun still felt her scheme was not entirely sound, and said: “You are keeping a low profile right now. If you step forward in the name of the Beizhen Wang Manor, you will inevitably arouse His Majesty’s suspicion that you are seeking fame and gathering the hearts of the people… No, no, this won’t do. I must think further…”

Han Linfeng smoothed out her loosened, cascading hair and smiled: “My Ayun truly has a meticulous mind. How much grain can the money from my manor actually buy? If we want to save more people, we naturally need the wealthy households to loosen their purse strings and draw out their silver… His Majesty has been plagued by nightmares lately — presumably even those golden wish-knots his subjects had been wearing to pray for his blessing have stopped working. In that case, I may as well craft a narrative around my encounter with danger: that I dreamed of His Majesty’s divine light protecting his subjects, which is how I was able to escape peril. I can use that glorious pretense to gather others to join the cause… Since this thing must be done, it may as well be done grandly — raise more silver, so we can do more for the people of Yan County.”

Listening to him lay out this line of reasoning, Su Luoyun immediately grasped the full implication. It seemed the Beizhen Shizi Manor ought to host a tea gathering to express their gratitude…

The Shizi had returned from the jaws of death; the Shizi’s consort had received so many condolence gifts that returning them was not an option — naturally, a banquet had to be held to entertain guests.

The first to be invited would be Han Linfeng’s longtime companions in wine and revelry. Naturally, not only them — their wives and mothers were to be included as well.

This Beizhen Shizi consort might appear delicate and soft, yet when it came to pressing on a person’s most vulnerable point, she needed no great effort — she had them all pinned firmly in her grasp.

She began by recounting how, at the moment the Shizi encountered peril, he had dreamed that the Dragon King of Yan County revealed himself and declared that the Great Wei had a heaven-chosen wise ruler who would safeguard his subjects and allow them to escape danger unharmed — thus ensuring both the Shizi and Official Li would return safely. But upon surviving the ordeal, a religious ceremony must be held, congee stations erected, and charitable deeds performed to fulfill the vow — which would also accumulate blessings and good fortune for His Majesty.

The Shizi had initially forgotten all about these dreams, but upon returning home, the nightmares had persisted night after night — only then did he recall them.

The Dragon King had appeared in divine form and declared that congee stations must be set up and religious ceremonies performed to fulfill the vow and dispel ill fortune, and moreover that this would add to His Majesty’s blessings and longevity — so how would these pious men and faithful women dare refuse?

Only the Shizi had found two temples in Yan County, and once the figures were tallied, it came to a shockingly large sum of money! Yet the Shizi had always spent lavishly on food and drink, and when money was actually needed, there was never quite enough.

When she mentioned that the manor’s funds were too tight to meet the need, the Shizi consort’s beautiful eyes brimmed with unshed tears, and she recited a verse with sorrowful feeling: “‘Pity the tender face that no rain comes to moisten — at night she opens the western gate to enter the sweet spring.’ Tell me — if the Shizi continues to fall short of funds and offends the Dragon King, what will become of me? My fate is truly… truly… Shizi Guo, you and my husband have always been the closest of companions. Would you be willing to contribute some silver to jointly undertake the ceremony?”

Guo Yan, whose leg injury had only recently healed, was in the middle of drinking his tea. Upon hearing Su Luoyun openly recite a line from the love letter he had once sent her — in front of all these people — he immediately sprayed a mouthful of tea leaves and stems all over himself.

He had written that letter thinking Han Linfeng must certainly have drowned, figuring that a young widow would be lonely, and hoping that if he sent a flirtatious note and she left a door open for him at night, he might successfully court her.

It had never occurred to him that this woman would be so ruthless — that she would actually use that verse to call him out in front of his own formidable wife.

Thoroughly alarmed, he hastily wiped the water from the front of his robe, then thumped his chest resoundingly, declaring that his bond with Han Shizi was one of true noble friendship — “even if the mountains were to lose their ridges, he would never forsake it.” How could he possibly be absent from such a matter as raising charitable funds?

Guo Yan contributed a substantial donation without the slightest hesitation.