When the young master of the Yong’an Wang Manor gave so generously, the others were privately startled, thinking that theirs was nothing more than a drinking-and-feasting acquaintance — such an extravagant gesture was really quite unnecessary.

Several of the more tight-fisted ones cursed Guo Yan inwardly, convinced that his brains must have been knocked loose when he fell off his horse.

But Su Luoyun gave a satisfied nod, and turned to address the wife of young Master Lu: “Ah, Madam Lu, you see — thankfully the Yong’an Wang Shizi has given so generously. Otherwise, would I not be left like one who has ‘a heart to tend the flowers and plant them on the jade terrace, yet no rosy petals fall upon the pillow’?”

This time it was Lu Kang’s turn to laugh awkwardly and thump his chest: “How could I be left out when it comes to accumulating blessings for the Shizi? Whatever Shizi Guo gives, I’ll match it exactly!”

Damn it — she had just recited his frivolous verses in front of his own wife. His dearest at home and his mother combined would report him to his father, and if his father found out he had been flirting with another man’s wife, would he not have his legs broken outright?

There was no choice but to shell out more silver and stop up that blind woman’s mouth.

And so the banquet proceeded, with the Shizi consort reciting from time to time some obscure, ungainly verses that moved the Shizi’s pack of idle companions to reach into their purses one after another.

At last, even Han Shizi, who had been seated in the host’s chair all along, was so “moved” that he rose to his feet, clasped his hands in thanks to the assembled friends, swept the room with a penetrating gaze, and said in a cool, measured tone: “I have heard it all — everyone present is a person of the highest caliber. As the saying goes, for such great kindness, words of thanks are insufficient. Allow Han to express his ‘gratitude’ to you all in due time, carefully and at length.”

As he spoke these words, the look in his eyes as he regarded each person carried a distinctly meaningful weight. For reasons they could not quite explain, the entire group of men who had been eating and drinking with him felt a chill creep up their spines.

After this abundantly warm, ever-lasting expression of friendship, the assembled guests were free to take their leave.

The Shizi consort of the Yong’an Wang Manor ached to see her husband pour out money like running water, yet could not very well complain for fear of appearing petty. So, climbing into the carriage, she said to Guo Yan: “That Beizhen Shizi consort really is from a lowly household — showing off her literary learning in front of us like that. If she needed money, why not simply say so plainly? What was the point of reciting all that nonsensical verse?”

Guo Yan was wiping cold sweat from his brow. In the dead of winter, he was furiously fanning himself with the folding fan he carried as an affectation of refinement, and forced a smile at his formidable wife: “Couldn’t agree more — if you want money, just ask for money. What’s with all the poetry recitation!”

As for Su Luoyun, she had recited so much verse during the tea banquet that her mouth was parched.

Unfortunately, the Shizi at her side seemed to be in rather poor spirits, not having spoken for a long time. When Su Luoyun asked him about it, he finally said: “Those wretches wrote you all that disgraceful nonsense, and you never once told me.”

Su Luoyun laughed despite herself: “You yourself called them people beneath notice — I couldn’t even be bothered to mention them. And did I not only remember it on the spot today, using it to squeeze them a little?”

Han Linfeng was still displeased. He reached out and drew her slender waist toward him, saying in a low, deliberate tone: “This time, I have taken note of every one of them. The grievances you have suffered — one day I will set them right for you.”

Su Luoyun knew the depths of his mind; it seemed those drinking companions had thoroughly made an enemy of this man.

Not wanting him to stew any further in this petty jealousy, she quickly added: “But as things stand, with those idle scions now involved, at the very least the religious ceremony at the Yan County temples can proceed. We can use this silver to relieve the disaster victims and help them through the winter. Let us hope the court’s grain vessels arrive quickly.”

At this, Han Linfeng gave a helpless smile: “Even when the grain ships arrive, this grain may not necessarily reach the hands of the common people. The peace and prosperity of today merely conceals a thousand fractures beneath a gilded surface… If the people’s hearts are not settled swiftly, I fear great numbers of hungry disaster victims will flock to the rebel army. From what I know, Cao Sheng’s forces have been steadily growing — he has already seized three key prefectures. If the rebel ranks swell further, the Emperor will not be able to sleep or eat in peace…”

Su Luoyun knew that his relationship with Cao Sheng ran deep. After a moment’s thought, she said: “Did the Shizi not say before that Cao Sheng’s heart is set only on recovering the lost territories, and that he has no ambition to usurp the throne?”

Han Linfeng took her hand and walked with her along the footpath of the country estate, heaving a quiet sigh: “He now has formidable troops and powerful men at his side. When a man’s enterprise grows great, the direction he continues in often no longer follows his own wishes. It is like being caught in a flood — one can only be carried forward by the current…”

The young general Cao Sheng had recently taken into his service went by the name Qiu Zhen. He had brought his own troops to join Cao Sheng, and had achieved immediate success, rendering distinguished service in the seizure of the three prefectures.

However, this “Qiu Zhen” was an assumed name. He was reportedly a descendant of a condemned official, who harbored a deep and lifelong hatred of the corrupt and decayed Great Wei court, and was urging Cao Sheng to raise the banner of rebellion, establish a capital in the three prefectures, and found a new order.

Han Linfeng had his own sources of information in the northern territories, and had heard that this Qiu Zhen had already quietly risen to the position of second-in-command, with a momentum that seemed on the verge of eclipsing Cao Sheng himself.

When Han Linfeng had first learned of this, he could not help but feel a private unease on Cao Sheng’s behalf, and had also sought out Yuan Xi — Cao Sheng’s sworn younger brother, who was in the southern territories procuring grain.

He had asked Yuan Xi to carry a message to Cao Sheng, hoping to put his sworn elder brother on his guard, and also hoping that the northern rebel army would not spiral beyond control — for if it did, trouble both within and without would leave the Great Wei severely damaged.

At that moment, Han Linfeng supported Su Luoyun as they climbed to the upper floor of the manor, and stood together in the gusts of the autumn wind.

Looking out into the distance, the layered rooftops stretched one after another, thin trails of cooking smoke curling gently upward. From some courtyard came the lilting strains of an operatic performance, its notes drifting faintly through the air. Only — how much longer could such days of peace endure?

As for the ceremony Su Luoyun had organized to pray for her husband’s blessings and fulfill the vow to the Dragon King, its momentum grew ever more considerable.

For when Official Li Guitian heard of it, he perceived, amid all the talk of gods and spirits, the deeper meaning behind the Beizhen Shizi’s desire to relieve the disaster victims.

Quietly approving, he told his wife that he too felt he had survived only through the Buddha’s protection, and so he asked her to arrange for their family and close friends to contribute their share as well.

Official Li’s students and disciples were spread throughout the realm; now that the official himself was so actively involved, they naturally followed his lead in donating funds to pray for their teacher’s blessings and fulfill his vow.

Before long, the dozen or so collection boxes placed in the temples by the Beizhen Shizi Manor were filled to the brim, and making votive offerings and prayers for the Emperor’s blessings had practically become the fashion of the capital.

Meanwhile, Su Luoyun used her own connections to locate several large private grain dealers.

Their storehouses had accumulated considerable quantities of private grain; some of it, if left unattended much longer, would grow moldy and infested. Who would willingly profit from illegal dealings if circumstances permitted otherwise? But the Great Wei’s taxes grew heavier year by year, with additional petty levies invented under various pretexts by local officials in every region — it was truly an ordeal for those trying to run an honest business.

Since the Beizhen Shizi consort was offering such a favorable opportunity — one that benefited the people and provided a legitimate means of making good money — the dealers were more than happy to take it, and set their prices at a fair level.

Once this life-saving grain had been delivered to the temples, the monks paid the private dealers with the equivalent of transport fees for the grain carts and boats.

And so the congee stations established through the temples began opening up throughout Yan County — though these stations were operated under the banner of the Great Wei Emperor’s protection of his people.

The monks spoke with one voice, all declaring that the present Emperor was a heaven-chosen wise ruler who safeguarded his subjects, and that this was why the various princes and nobles of the capital had come together to make donations and fulfill their vows. Not a single word about the Beizhen Wang Manor was mentioned.

After much careful planning by the Shizi’s household, steaming bowls of congee were at last brought to the lips of the disaster victims.

Word of this large and impressive ceremony gradually reached the capital.

That day, the Emperor and the Empress specially summoned the Li household and the Beizhen Shizi Manor’s officials and family members to the palace for an audience — a gesture of consolation toward the subjects who had survived great peril, in the form of an intimate family banquet within the palace.

During the meal, the Emperor asked Han Linfeng in a seemingly casual manner: “I hear you led a religious ceremony in Yan County, with many of the capital’s nobles contributing silver to relieve countless people. That you thought of all this is quite unexpected to me…”

Han Linfeng replied with every appearance of delight: “It was the Dragon King who came to your subject in a dream, saying that Your Majesty’s divine light was protecting your subjects, and that holding the ceremony would furthermore accumulate blessings and fortune for Your Majesty. In matters of reverence toward the divine, your subject naturally had to apply himself wholeheartedly… Ah, and it is also because your subject has always been fortunate in his friendships — who says drinking companions are not true friends? When a matter of real importance arose, did they not all bring out their money? Though… Your Majesty would not send someone to audit the accounts for such charitable works, would he?”

This way of asking the question was the very picture of a man protesting too much — practically a self-incriminating confession, openly telling the Emperor that there were irregularities hidden within the Beizhen Shizi Manor’s role in the ceremony, and that he, the ringleader, had pocketed the charitable funds.

Emperor Weihui could not help but laugh aloud.

The dissolute young man had organized the charitable funds himself, wringing the money from the pockets of his own friends and acquaintances. Even a Son of Heaven who liked to meddle in everything could not very well concern himself with such matters.

He had previously heard that this former wastrel had managed to organize such an impressive ceremony, and had privately felt a vague unease.

But looking at things now, even mud plastered onto a wall still stank. So it had simply been a matter of using the Dragon King’s name to collect funds for himself…

Emperor Weihui himself was rather superstitious about such things. And besides, whatever Han Linfeng’s motives, he had at any rate pacified the people of one region and spared Emperor Weihui one less thing to worry about.

After all, Han Linfeng had not used this to rally popular support. Even the silver for the ceremony had been cajoled out of a pack of idle scions under the pretext of divine spirits.

Though this young man was a thoroughly disreputable character, that business about dreaming of the Dragon King praising a heaven-chosen wise ruler was highly gratifying to the Emperor’s ear. It was said that the horizontal banners hung at all the congee stations bore the words “Sheltered by His Majesty’s Sacred Light.”

Under these circumstances, the Emperor naturally could not be bothered to investigate a down-at-the-heels Shizi using charitable works to pocket a little spending money.

As for the Empress, she smiled and asked Su Luoyun how long she had been married, and whether there was any happy news yet.

Su Luoyun naturally could not say that she and Han Shizi were still husband and wife in name only, their marriage yet unconsummated. She could only put on an expression of difficulty and say: “For some reason, it simply has not come about…”

The Empress glanced at Han Linfeng and said with a light smile: “You are not young anymore. When you have nothing to do, spend more time at home with your new wife. It is fortunate that you came back safe from Yan County — otherwise, would you not have left behind not even a legitimate heir?”

Han Linfeng was of course quick to agree with the Empress, and with a face full of solemn resolve said: “Your Highness speaks most truly. Indeed, it is time for your subject to make diligent efforts to continue the family line and multiply the branches and leaves.”

These words made Su Luoyun lower her head once again.

As for Emperor Weihui, he was quite satisfied with Han Linfeng’s flattery. By comparison, the Sixth Prince, King Heng, went about things in a rather rigid, by-the-book manner.

The very day after the Emperor had received the Beizhen Shizi in audience, the Sixth Prince submitted a memorial accusing the temples of using grain of dubious origin for their charitable works — apparently private grain.

The Emperor summoned King Heng, fixed his sixth son with a long, meaningful look, and said calmly: “Grain and oil donated to temples have never required taxation — that is out of reverence for the Buddha. Whether the grain is public or private, did it not all end up in the stomachs of the disaster victims?”

Unlike the Emperor, the Sixth Prince currently harbored a gnawing resentment toward both Han Linfeng and Official Li Guitian alike.

Han Linfeng in particular — a worthless nobody who had managed to foil his plans one after another. If both men had properly drowned, just the network of students and literary associates connected to Official Li alone would have been enough to grind the Ninth Prince’s reputation to dust.

Yet these two men had the audacity to come back alive, and Official Li had suddenly seized upon those corrupt officials to prosecute, helping the Ninth Prince escape unscathed.

The Sixth Prince had laid out his schemes with great care, only to draw water with a basket — how could his heart not be burning with fury?

And the fact that Han Linfeng and Li Guitian had both returned safe and sound was truly baffling.

The Sixth Prince had later specifically sought out people from Yan County to inquire about the details of how Han Linfeng and the others had been rescued.

When he heard that Han Linfeng had single-handedly rescued Li Guitian, the Sixth Prince felt something turn over in his chest.

The old matter of investigating the rebel army’s inside informant — an investigation that had gone nowhere — resurfaced without warning in the mind of the Sixth Prince, Han Shen-zhi.

The golden silk jade clasp. The fact that he was not in the capital when Cao Sheng was waylaid. The wound on the shoulder. And the tall, powerfully built stature. Each and every detail aligned almost perfectly with Han Linfeng.

It was simply that before, the Sixth Prince had never connected this man to that matter… If this Han Linfeng could survive such floodwaters and return alive, was it not because his physical constitution was extraordinarily powerful?

Some things, the more one thought about them carefully, the more alarming they became. The Sixth Prince found himself growing more unsettled the longer he dwelt on it. Though he still did not believe Han Linfeng had the audacity to associate with the rebel Cao Sheng, Han Linfeng had undeniably aroused his curiosity.

So when he saw his subordinates’ memorial accusing Han Linfeng of using the ceremony as cover to smuggle private grain and possibly profit from it, the Sixth Prince decided that regardless of whether the accusation was true or false, he would first have Han Linfeng brought in and interrogated in prison before anything else.

He had not expected that after reading the memorial, his imperial father would fix him with a dark, brooding stare and say unhurriedly: “I have been restless and uneasy of late, troubled by nightmares night after night with no relief. Are you preparing to make an enemy of the divine spirits on my behalf? Even Han Linfeng — a mere dissolute young man — after surviving near certain death, has learned to show reverence to the divine. Yet you, a prince of the imperial family, seem to fear nothing and dare to do anything…”

The Sixth Prince had submitted that memorial intending to confirm the suspicions against the Beizhen Wang Manor — and even the Li family — of using the temple ceremony as a front for trafficking in private grain.

Such matters were almost invariably confirmed upon investigation. As for building a minor case into a major one, that was no great difficulty either; if the investigation were pushed deeper, it would be the perfect opportunity to bring down both families and vent some of the fury in his heart.

But he had not anticipated at all that the Emperor had been waiting for just such an opportunity to reprimand the Sixth Prince. That final remark had clearly laid responsibility at his door for framing his own brother and resorting to unscrupulous means.

The Sixth Prince was inwardly alarmed, and naturally refused to admit it. He quickly knelt and said: “Your subject oversees the Ministry of Finance and the Trade Supervision Bureau — this memorial was written by subordinates below. Your subject’s oversight was insufficiently strict for a moment, and nearly caused offense to the divine — that is indeed your subject’s failing… Yet your subject has always kept Your Majesty’s teachings in mind, striving to be diligent and conscientious in all matters, and has not dared to sink into the indulgences of sensual pleasures…”

Emperor Weihui waved his hand, cutting off his son’s defense. Some things needed only to be alluded to; he had no wish to speak too plainly.

Yet toward this sixth son of his, he truly felt a disappointment he could not quite put into words.

On the surface, this son had fashioned himself into something of an upright gentleman — there were few concubines in his household, and he avoided banquets and entertainments wherever possible. In terms of conduct, he seemed considerably superior to the Ninth Prince.

But Emperor Weihui had harbored a lifelong aversion to hypocrites. Appearing on the surface to be a saint, while privately harboring all manner of dark and sinister intentions.

Compared to the Sixth Prince, who appeared immaculate and virtuous, the Ninth Prince — greedy and protective of his own — somehow came across as more genuinely human.

Emperor Weihui did not hope that after his passing, he would see the rise of a ruler celebrated through the ages as a sage-king. His only wish was that his successor would treat his own flesh and blood with kindness and keep the realm and household at peace.

He was the patriarch of the imperial Han family, and could not afford not to weigh such things carefully — the Sixth Prince’s hands were far too ruthless.

Thinking this, he waved his hand and said calmly: “I have placed great hopes in you as well. Go back and recite a sutra in the Buddhist hall, and reflect upon it in quiet meditation — it can only do you some good.”

King Heng dared not say another word, and withdrew from the imperial study with an expression of utmost deference.

But the moment he turned away and lowered his head, his eyes could not help but grow cold and dark. His imperial father’s meaning could not have been clearer: the Ninth Prince had caused such a tremendous debacle in Yan County, yet the Emperor did not even deign to ask about it, and had instead gone to such lengths to make an issue of the breach of the river embankment.

Such blatant favoritism — only this father of his was capable of it.

King Heng let out a long sigh and turned toward his imperial mother’s chambers. There was a grievance he could only share with his mother.

Upon entering the Empress’s palace, he found his elder sister Princess Yuyang had arrived before him and was in the middle of weeping and lamenting to their mother: “Your Highness, what were you thinking with this arrangement! Why did you advise Father to have an adopted child from the Zhao clan placed under my name? I already have the child Gui Bei — if an additional legitimate son is placed in my household, what is to become of him?”

Though Princess Yuyang had in her time outlasted General Zhao Dong’s first wife and married the man she had set her heart on, she had remained childless throughout their marriage. The only child in the household was Zhao Gui Bei — the late wife’s sole legitimate son.

The Princess had always treated him as her own, caring for him enormously. Yet as Zhao Gui Bei had never been formally registered under the Princess’s name, the arrangement always carried an air of irregularity.

So the Empress had grown concerned for her daughter and suggested to the Emperor that a bright and clever young child from the Zhao clan be adopted into Princess Yuyang’s household, becoming in due form her own legitimate son, so that she would not be left without someone to depend upon in her old age.

She had not anticipated that before the imperial decree was even issued, this wayward daughter of hers had come charging into her chambers to make a scene.

Princess Yuyang, no longer inclined to conceal it from her mother, simply bit her lip and said: “Your Highness need not trouble yourself over that. The reason Zhao Dong was willing to marry me in the first place was because I swore to him that I would never bear any children.”

The Empress, her hair now streaked with white, had been reclining against the daybed, but at these words she sat bolt upright and stared at her daughter: “What? You are not incapable of bearing children — you have been using methods to prevent it all along?”

As a princess, she was naturally supported by the imperial family behind her. If she were to marry Zhao Dong, who came from a humble background, it would be a genuine step down. Were she to give birth to her own child, her affections would inevitably become unequal, and she might well treat the son of the late wife coldly. The late wife had been of common birth, with no family of her own to speak of, and the Zhao clan too would have no one to protect Gui Bei.

Zhao Dong feared that when he went off to battle, he would be leaving his son in the hands of a princess stepmother who might do with him as she pleased.

To put Zhao Dong’s misgivings to rest, Princess Yuyang had once drunk a full bowl of safflower broth in front of him, rendering herself unable to bear children and relieving his greatest concern.

Perhaps overwhelmed by her determination, or perhaps out of guilt over her sacrifice of her ability to have children, Zhao Dong had at last relented and nodded his agreement to marry her.

This secret, Princess Yuyang had never disclosed to her mother. All these years, the Empress had assumed that her daughter’s womb was simply not cooperating, which was why she remained childless.

Now, hearing that her daughter had done such a rash thing behind her back, the Empress was seized with fury. She grabbed the jade ruyi from the daybed and hurled it straight at her daughter: “You wretched creature of past sins — have you come into this life to be the death of me?”

Seeing their mother’s fury erupt, the Sixth Prince, who had been standing behind the bead curtain, rushed in at once. He steadied his mother, who was lurching forward in her attempt to strike, then turned to Princess Yuyang, who was kneeling on the floor: “Royal Elder Sister, will you not leave quickly? Do you intend to anger Mother to death?”

Princess Yuyang rose in silence. Before she left, she added one final remark: “Your Highness, do not forget to ask Father to rescind the decree — otherwise my husband might suspect I have had a change of heart and want to mistreat Gui Bei…”

This time the Empress picked up a teacup and hurled it in Princess Yuyang’s direction.

The Sixth Prince was well accustomed to his elder sister’s erratic ways. After all, Princess Yuyang’s streak of wildness had been unmatched anywhere in the capital in her day.

He comforted their mother for a while before finally relating what had transpired with his imperial father.

The Empress gradually withdrew her attention from her daughter’s disastrous affairs. She cast a glance at her son and said coldly: “No wonder your father was displeased. What you did this time was truly far too rash. What kind of person is he, to be worth resorting to such a low stratagem?”

The Sixth Prince patted his mother’s back in a soothing manner and said thoughtfully: “Yet in recent years, Father’s favoritism has grown more pronounced by the day. And that Consort Qiong is a woman of arrogant disposition who grows bolder with every favor bestowed — if…”

The Empress cut him off, summarizing in a few crisp words: “Since ancient times, the succession of heirs has always been the paramount consideration in determining imperial succession. The Ninth Prince is no longer young, yet aside from several daughters and the sons of his side consorts, he has yet to produce a legitimate heir. Your imperial father has been weighed down with worry lately, his spirit exhausted and frequently flagging, and the veteran court ministers have also been pressing His Majesty to designate the crown prince without delay… As long as the Ninth Prince’s new consort has yet to show signs of expecting a child, no matter how favored that bewitching consort may be, her son will not be in a position to contend for the heir’s throne.”

The Sixth Prince grasped it immediately and said in a low voice: “Your son understands. I will arrange someone within the Imperial Physicians’ Court — should there be any development at the Prince Rui’s manor, your son will inform Your Highness at once…”

The Empress looked at him once more and instructed: “Keep your eyes and ears alert — nothing more. Do not repeat the mistake of Yan County. No matter what the circumstances, stepping into the arena directly is sheer foolishness.”

Watching her son nod and accept this, the Empress looked up to the heavens and drew a long, deep breath. She was a daughter of the Wang family — one of the other great aristocratic clans of the Great Wei.

The Wang family and the Fang family had together once upheld half the firmament of the Great Wei. But regrettably, the Wang family’s fortunes had been gradually waning, unlike the Fang family, whose standing grew ever more illustrious on the strength of the merit earned by supporting the late Emperor Han Xu in claiming the throne.

All the world envied her — born into an honored family, blessed with both son and daughter, a life that had flowed easily with wind and water.

Yet for all that she was the mother of a nation, the children she had brought into the world refused to follow her wishes in anything. Every single thing required her, as their mother, to fight and to strive for them…

Setting aside the open and hidden struggles within the palace — after the banquet at the Princess’s manor, young Commandery Princess Han Yao had been reluctant to venture out and see people.

The number of invitations arriving at the Beizhen Shizi Manor had, however, been on the increase. The Li family, moved by the Shizi’s kindness, had grown considerably more warm and familiar with the Shizi consort as well; and with the two households having jointly organized the ceremony earlier, a not inconsiderable bond of friendship had formed between them.

It happened that the eldest daughter-in-law of the Li family had just given birth, and so an invitation was sent out asking the Shizi consort and Commandery Princess Han Yao to come and share a cup of wine at the full-month celebration.

Seeing Han Yao casting about for excuses to avoid going out, Su Luoyun went to her room and said with a gentle smile: “If you keep refusing to see people, would that not confirm that the mockery they subjected you to that day had truly taken root in your heart? The Li family is a household of scholars — those they have invited are their students and colleagues from the ranks of the Hanlin scholars and officials of upright character. It is quite unlike the banquets of the aristocratic families at the Princess’s manor. I shall stay by your side throughout today — let us go out together and take in some fresh air. Would that not be good?”

She spoke the truth. Princess Yuyang moved in circles of aristocratic great ladies, quite incompatible with the world of scholars who had risen from humble origins.

So at the Li family’s banquet, they were most unlikely to encounter any of the people who had mocked Han Yao on that previous occasion.