As for Han Yao, the sunburned flush on her face had long since faded, and her dress was well in keeping with the fashions of the capital. The young Commandery Princess was in truth quite comely in appearance — yet unfortunately, the Jun Guo Duke’s consort showed little warmth toward this future daughter-in-law, merely accepting the congratulatory gift on behalf of the old Matriarch as a perfunctory gesture, without even glancing at what was inside the box.

The poor thing — Han Yao had spent several days painstakingly stitching by hand a cotton longevity coat inlaid with gold thread and carnelian beads, and it was denied even the chance to be seen.

Perhaps sensing her young sister-in-law’s dejection, Su Luoyun patted her hand in quiet comfort once they were seated.

There was little to be done about it. Su Luoyun had only recently learned the full story of this betrothal from Han Linfeng’s own lips.

Years ago, after Princess Beizhen had married into the manor, her father, Lord Zong Qing, had been reassigned from the capital to serve as Prefect of Tai Prefecture — a barren, remote posting. It was a promotion in name and a demotion in reality, and Princess Beizhen could not help but feel a quiet resentment. She had grown up in the capital all her life, and after her marriage, even when visiting her family home, it was no longer the flourishing center of things.

So after giving birth to her daughter, the Princess had set her heart on finding a match that would bring her daughter back to the capital.

At that time, the old Duke of Jun Guo happened to be serving in the Ministry of War, overseeing the interior defenses of the northern territories. Through a moment of negligence, however, he had allowed an entire forty carts of military arms and equipment to go missing within the borders of Liang Prefecture.

Prince Beizhen, fully aware that the loss of military supplies within his own territory would inevitably invite the Emperor’s suspicion, had spent considerable effort mobilizing both the official and the underground networks of the region, retrieving the arms after much back-and-forth, dealing with the negligent guardsmen responsible, and suppressing the matter before it could be reported.

It was precisely this incident that Princess Beizhen had seized upon. Under the guise of hosting the old Duke of Jun Guo at a banquet, she had made her intentions unmistakably clear through carefully chosen words: she hoped to join their families by marriage, which would ensure that this matter remained quietly buried and need never be reported to the court.

The old Duke of Jun Guo had been unwilling at the time, but under the pressure of circumstances had nodded his agreement, and so his third son had been engaged to the young Commandery Princess.

Small wonder, then, that the present Jun Guo Duke’s consort found the whole arrangement so distasteful. This was plainly a mess the old Duke himself had stumbled into — and yet it fell upon his children’s generation to cover it up and clean it away.

Su Luoyun had frowned throughout hearing this, thinking her mother-in-law had been resorting to a poisoned remedy — willing to go to any lengths to secure her daughter a place in the capital.

What happiness could possibly come from a betrothal obtained through holding something over another person’s head?

Han Linfeng had paused for a moment, then smiled lightly: “You don’t know my mother. She has always been someone who presses forward in the face of difficulty. When she decides she wants something done, she makes sure it is done — she has never known the meaning of the word ‘fear.'”

The implication was clear: though Princess Beizhen had foreseen the difficulties Han Yao would face after marrying into the Jun Guo Duke’s household, she considered all such difficulties surmountable.

Those whose feet are calloused do not fear the thorny road.

Yet the Princess had seemingly never stopped to consider whether her own daughter was as strong-willed as herself — or whether her daughter was even willing to walk such a road.

It was precisely because the old Duke of Jun Guo had committed that serious error in the past that the Jun Guo Duke’s household now swallowed their grievances in silence, making no move to dissolve the betrothal of their own accord.

And so the engagement remained suspended in this awkward standstill. Unless the Beizhen Wang Manor took the initiative, they could only watch as the Jun Guo Duke’s household dragged the matter out indefinitely.

Su Luoyun’s original plan had been to wait until the birthday banquet was served, eat a few bites, offer a toast to the old Matriarch alongside Han Yao, and then quietly return to the manor.

What she had not anticipated was that when the Jun Guo Duke Manor’s servants led them to their seats, she and Han Yao ended up at the same table as Fang Jinrou, the wife of King Heng.

When Nanny Yu quietly alerted her from behind, Su Luoyun immediately rose to her feet, intending to find another table.

At such gatherings, seating was arranged strictly according to rank and seniority. Those seated alongside the wife of King Heng would all be close associates from prominent aristocratic families.

By any reasoning — public or private — she and the wife of King Heng could not possibly share a table.

Assuming the servants had led them to the wrong seats, she made to withdraw. But Fang Jinrou smiled gently and said: “It was I who had you placed here. Though I am only somewhat older than you, my position in the family hierarchy is considerably senior — you are, after all, a kinswoman by marriage. I have long wanted a chance to speak with you. Today is the perfect opportunity for us to sit together and become better acquainted.”

With the wife of King Heng having said as much, Su Luoyun had no choice but to bow in acknowledgment and take her seat.

Fang Jinrou was of an entirely different disposition from her younger sister — she would naturally not resort to deliberate verbal barbs, the sort of petty mischief one might expect of a troublesome child of five.

Yet after conversing for a while, Su Luoyun abruptly realized that the gentlest blade was the most dangerous of all — a needle concealed in silk, impossible to guard against.

The wife of King Heng seemed to have an ulterior purpose in her words. She kept steering the conversation toward the details of Su Luoyun’s daily life with the Shizi, and with apparent casualness kept probing at how well-developed the Shizi’s martial foundation was.

When she had been forced into marriage with Han Linfeng, it had been because the Sixth Prince had set a trap to test her. She had maintained her wariness toward the couple of King Heng ever since.

Hearing the wife of King Heng probing her with deliberate purpose, Su Luoyun kept her expression easy and gave a small, rueful smile: “I don’t know who started all those rumors — always saying my Shizi had exhausted his constitution through drink and women. The Shizi must have grown weary of being mocked by people behind his back, and so he resolved to build himself up properly. He bought no small quantity of swords, spears, and other weapons, and had the practice ground fitted out very nicely — but he only managed a few days of training before he fell completely to pieces. These past several days he sleeps until the sun is well up before he even stirs…”

At these words, several of the ladies seated at the table could not help but cough behind their handkerchiefs — for mocking the Shizi behind his back over his supposed physical weakness, they had all played their part.

And what Su Luoyun said was not, strictly speaking, untrue. Han Linfeng had indeed been rising very late these past several days — each morning he was bursting with energy, and it always took quite some time of his clinging to her before he would let her get up.

The wife of King Heng smiled slightly and said no more.

Ever since King Heng had grown suddenly suspicious of Han Linfeng, he had not been idle — he intended to plant some of his own people inside the Beizhen Shizi Manor.

What he had not expected was that the household of this small Beizhen Shizi Manor was remarkably stable in its personnel. The only recent changes had been the transfer of a gatekeeper to do rough work in the outer courtyard, and the reassignment of a new gatekeeper from the inner courtyard — nothing else had changed.

He had obtained the household service records of the Beizhen Shizi Manor, and found that in the two years since Han Linfeng’s arrival in the capital, he had almost never replaced any of the servants.

With the onset of winter and the frequent rainfall, some sections of the Beizhen Wang Manor’s outer wall had deteriorated and required repair. The Sixth Prince had finally managed to slip two of his men among the craftsmen hired for the stonework. Using the cover of the repair work, these two had made their way through both the outer and inner courtyards of the Beizhen Shizi Manor.

Just as the blind Shizi consort had said, the Beizhen Shizi Manor did indeed have a practice ground in the rear courtyard, fully equipped with swords, spears, halberds, and every manner of weapon. Yet from the time they had begun the wall repairs, they had never once seen the Shizi training on the practice ground.

And that master of the manor slept until the sun was well up in the sky nearly every single day. The one exception — he had risen early at the start of the month for the grand morning court assembly.

Even then, though he rose early, he had insisted on dragging his Shizi consort along with him when he set out.

The two craftsmen perched on top of the wall laying bricks had seen it all with perfect clarity.

As for that sticky, clinging devotion the Shizi displayed — how to put it? He was rather like a poor young man who had finally, after great difficulty, acquired a wife, and simply could not bear to let her out of his arms — he would sooner tuck that beautiful Shizi consort right into his embrace and carry her off with him.

Both masters of the household were clearly trained fighters. One of the two informants had also slipped quietly into the Shizi’s study. The interior was fitted out in lavish splendor — yet the books on the shelves were brand new, without so much as a dog-eared page. The older, more worn volumes were all romantic and sensational storybooks, the kind that looked as though they were turned over frequently, their pages darkened with handling.

After hearing the two informants’ report, the Sixth Prince was privately deeply disappointed.

This bore absolutely no resemblance to the image of that capable and cunning inside agent who had ambushed and abducted Cao Sheng’s forces. It was, on every count, exactly the same as the worthless, dissipated conduct Han Linfeng displayed before the world.

Even if Han Linfeng were the most accomplished of actors, there would be no need for him to constantly play the role of a lecherous wastrel within his own manor.

A man who could let the practice ground sit dust-covered year-round, and use new books as mere ornaments in his study — what hidden capabilities could he possibly possess?

It appeared that Han Linfeng and Official Li’s survival through deadly peril was indeed the Dragon King’s blessing and a fate that had not yet run its course — and had very little to do with Han Linfeng himself.

Even if Han Linfeng had conducted himself with some valor at the time, it was most likely nothing more than the courage of a young man in his physical prime, briefly summoned forth by desperation in the face of certain death.

The Sixth Prince was, however, a man of naturally suspicious temperament. Today he had instructed his wife to draw out the blind consort of Han Linfeng once more, and see if anything of use could be teased from her words.

In the Sixth Prince’s estimation, this merchant girl of lowly origins should previously have had no dealings whatsoever with Han Linfeng. After all, during the two years since Han Linfeng had come to the capital, this blind girl had apparently been sent by her father to the countryside.

Though he harbored suspicions about Han Linfeng, he had never thought to take a blind woman who peddled fragrances seriously. His instinct told him something useful might be coaxed from her lips.

Yet Su Luoyun had spoken without leaving a single crack to exploit, and had neatly accounted for the practice ground in the Shizi Manor as well.

And she had not technically been untruthful. The Shizi, who had only recently tasted these pleasures, was so thoroughly besotted with her that he had been practicing an entirely different kind of vigorous exercise in bed every day, and had not risen early for martial training in quite some time.

She had guessed correctly: the wife of King Heng was indeed performing a sword dance with her true target elsewhere — Cao Cao as the real aim. On the surface she had been drawing close in friendly conversation, but once she had circled around with her questions about the Shizi’s daily routine, the wife of King Heng stopped talking to her altogether and rose to go chat with the Jun Guo Duke’s consort instead.

Su Luoyun did not dare let her guard down. Nor did she wish to linger over the wine. She ate a few bites and was preparing to rise and leave. But at that moment, another late-arriving guest appeared at the entrance of the hall — none other than Fang Jinshu, the Princess Rui, who was supposed to be out in the city’s outskirts enjoying an excursion with the Ninth Prince.

Come to think of it, ever since her marriage, Su Luoyun had been deliberately avoiding this second Fang daughter. Apart from the few gatherings at the Li household, among scholars and officials of modest origins, she had almost never attended the wine banquets and tea gatherings of the great aristocratic families.

A noble daughter of an established family like Fang Jinshu had little to do with scholars who had risen from humble backgrounds, and would naturally never find her way to the Li household’s door.

This time, having waited patiently for the Jun Guo Duke Manor to hold its birthday celebration, Fang Jinshu had calculated that Su Luoyun would certainly attend with that country-bumpkin sister-in-law of hers, and had engineered a deliberate surprise — appearing at the Jun Guo Duke Manor seemingly out of nowhere.

Although Prince Rui had suffered a temporary setback at court, the Emperor’s favor for him was currently at its height. On the day of his wedding to Fang Jinshu, the Emperor had issued three consecutive imperial decrees, bestowing gifts of imperial wine, fine silks, and luminous pearls.

The symbolism was unmistakable — this union was as resplendent as silk and pearls, as mellow as aged vintage wine. Even when the Sixth Prince had wed, the Emperor had shown no such extravagance.

Furthermore, following their marriage, Consort Qiong had been elevated in rank, promoted to the position of Pious and Rite Imperial Noble Consort — second only to the Empress in the imperial hierarchy. Her elder brother was promoted to the rank of Supreme General of Yi Prefecture in the northern territories.

The northern territories were a concentration of military power — and they also happened to be the stronghold of the Empress’s own Wang family of Changxi. The Changxi Wang family had produced three Supreme Generals over successive generations who had held the supreme military command, and the Ministry of War had long been under Wang family control. Many military officers of modest origins in court were also clients and subordinates cultivated by the Wang family.

General Zhao Dong, for instance, had originally gained the Wang family’s recognition through his outstanding generalship and exceptional military accomplishments.

But with this appointment, the Emperor had thrust a blade directly into the northern territories — one that did not belong to the Wang family — and had begun to fracture the military authority that had long been concentrated in Wang family hands.

Was not this elevation and support of Consort Qiong also, in effect, an elevation and support of the Ninth Prince?

With the Ninth Prince riding high in the Emperor’s favor, everywhere the Princess Rui appeared it was as though the sea parted before her — the assembled ladies rose one after another to bow and make way.

She did not even bother to greet the hosts of the Jun Guo Duke Manor, but walked directly to where Su Luoyun was seated. Her beautiful, sharp eyes were cold as she looked the woman slowly up and down.

It had only been about a month or so since she had last seen her — and yet this woman had grown somehow more richly beautiful and vibrant. She had clearly been well tended by Han Linfeng.

Fang Jinshu had thought that marrying the Ninth Prince might gradually bring her peace and help her forget Han Linfeng entirely. But on her wedding night, the man lying beside her reeked of stale wine, and even with her eyes shut she could not escape that smell — the smell of something deeply repellent.

When that man had taken his pleasure and fallen into a contented sleep, Fang Jinshu had felt, with a shock, the impulse to take a belt and hang herself from the rafters.

She simply did not like the man she had married — not even his imperial status, not even the very real possibility that he might one day become Emperor, was enough to suppress her revulsion.

If Han Linfeng were still as dissolute as before, leaving the blind woman to keep an empty chamber alone, Fang Jinshu might have been able to bear it somewhat better.

But the man she should by rights have married had — from the moment of his wedding — transformed into someone entirely different, no longer haunting pleasure quarters and wine houses, spending his days instead in honeyed company with that blind woman, flower-shadowed and moonlit…

Fang Jinshu could not stop herself from gathering information about Han Linfeng, but the more she heard, the deeper her bitterness grew.

For at some point, she had inadvertently learned the contents of that letter her mother had intercepted. It turned out that the letter she had never been permitted to read had been Han Linfeng’s attempt to tell her that he wished to marry her.

When she heard this, Fang Jinshu had stormed to her mother’s room and smashed every antique ornament her mother had kept there.

Madam Lu Guo, driven to fury, had nearly invoked the family code of discipline against her. Fang Jinshu had responded by turning and throwing herself into the fish pond in her mother’s courtyard.

Had the servants not pulled her out in time, the Ninth Prince’s wedding banquet would nearly have become a funeral rite.

Madam Lu Guo no longer dared provoke her daughter, and wept as she made her apologies. The marriage had already been decreed by the Emperor — for the sake of the entire family’s reputation, she would have to learn to accept it and let go.

But how could Fang Jinshu let it go? If her mother had not intervened and obstructed everything, the Shizi consort basking in Han Linfeng’s exclusive devotion at this very moment — that should have been her, Fang Jinshu!

Fed by this obsession, the turmoil in Fang Jinshu’s heart only deepened, and her hatred of the blind woman who had claimed what she saw as her rightful place grew ever more ferocious.

Last time, Su Luoyun had slipped away quickly, leaving only her young sister-in-law to endure the mockery.

Today — how was this Su Luoyun planning to avoid her?

With this thought in mind, she settled herself boldly in the seat beside the two women, her eyes still slanted sidelong at Su Luoyun.

Han Yao, looking at this newly wed Princess Rui, felt her heart trembling in her chest. Last time, it was entirely this woman’s doing that she had lost all composure and fled in disarray. And today this Princess Rui was plainly here with ill intentions — it was impossible to know what humiliations she was about to visit upon them.

Having been through it once before, Han Yao’s plan this time was to claim a stomach ache and make her excuses to leave the Jun Guo Duke Manor with her sister-in-law as quickly as possible.

But Fang Jinshu got in ahead of her with a contemptuous smile: “I have long wanted to sit down and have a proper conversation with the Beizhen Shizi consort — but every time you see me, it seems you develop a stomach complaint. I do hope you two are in good health today?”

Well. With those words, she had neatly blocked the excuse of a sudden digestive episode before it could even be deployed.

The last time, Su Luoyun had slipped away without a sound — that had been perfectly fine.

This time, the eyes of the entire hall were fixed on them. If Su Luoyun and Han Yao once again used indisposition as a pretext, everyone present would see through it immediately, and they would lose all dignity entirely.

If it were just herself, Su Luoyun would not have cared about the embarrassment. But Han Yao was at her future in-laws’ home.

If the engagement with the Jun Guo Duke Manor were not dissolved, she would have to live here someday — and if her dignity was entirely destroyed here, how would she ever hold her head up?

With this thought, Su Luoyun let out a quiet, soundless sigh. Yet the expression on her face remained easy and composed as she smiled: “Allow me to offer my congratulations first on Princess Rui’s marriage. It is a pity that at the time of your wedding to Prince Rui, the Shizi happened to meet with danger in Yan County and was unable to offer his congratulations in time — please forgive the oversight.”

Fang Jinshu gave a cold laugh, her meaning pointed and deliberate: “Prince Rui is the ninth son of the Emperor, of noble birth by heaven’s grace. The Prince Rui Manor is not a place any common cat or dog of low standing can simply walk into. What is this — because you used a few scraps of physical charm to attach yourself to the imperial family, you think you’ve risen to the heavens in one step and can stand on equal footing with women of established families like ours?”

In the entire capital, only Fang Jinshu had the brazenness to cut someone down to their face so directly and so publicly.

The Fang family was one of the most deeply rooted and enduringly prosperous of the great clans of the Great Wei — their contribution to placing the late Emperor Han Xu on the throne had been indispensable. This had ensured that Fang Jinshu, raised from childhood with that backing, was used to having the final word, and had grown ever more imperious in her ways.

Never mind a Shizi consort of lowly and unconventional origins — even an ordinary princess from the palace who crossed her would have to yield and step back three paces.

Her sudden opening salvo fell on the entire hall like a blanket of silence. Several of the more kind-hearted ladies quietly shook their heads, privately alarmed on behalf of that poor blind woman.

Han Yao was so mortified she could not lift her head. But Su Luoyun, upon hearing this, merely nodded with a smile: “Princess Rui speaks truly. That which is bestowed by heaven is indeed heaven’s grace — each person’s fortunes and blessings are their own. I did not understand these things before, and had thought that since the Emperor had bestowed the marriage by imperial decree, I was now entered in the imperial clan’s family register — a daughter-in-law of the imperial Han family. The Emperor has recently extended great favor to scholarship, elevating so many men of common birth through the imperial examinations. And so I further thought that under the whole of heaven, a person’s dignity could also be earned through their own abilities, in loyal service to the nation and its people. But having heard your words, I now understand that if one’s forebears were farmers or merchants, then no matter how upright one’s character, one cannot hold one’s head up before persons of your eminence. If Princess Rui truly feels that a woman of my kind is unfit to enter the Han imperial family, perhaps you might exert yourself, when you have the opportunity, to go before the Emperor and petition him to rescind the imperial decree of marriage that he issued.”

Her tone was measured and even, a small smile resting at the corners of her mouth — like a fine, steady stream of water. Though it held none of the gale-force ferocity of Fang Jinshu’s speech, each sentence found its mark with precision, striking directly at the vital point.

She was not afraid of offending Fang Jinshu with her words. No matter what she said, it would never change the hatred Fang Jinshu bore for her.

As the saying went — one who is already wet does not fear the rain. In a situation like this, the only option was to invoke the Emperor’s virtue of honoring men of talent and humble origins first, to stand as a shield against the assault.

Her words had, in effect, taken Fang Jinshu’s attack and magnified it to its fullest implication, redirecting it toward the inescapable charge of showing contempt for the Emperor himself.

No matter how lowly Su Luoyun’s origins might be, her marriage had been granted by the Emperor’s own gracious decree. If Fang Jinshu felt she was unfit to be entered in the Han family’s register, she was perfectly welcome to go petition the Emperor to retract the imperial command.

As for Fang Jinshu’s mockery of her humble birth — by extension, it was contempt for every official and scholar who had risen from modest origins.

The Jun Guo Duke Manor was not like the great established clans of Changxi’s Wang family or the Fang family. In recent years, the family’s younger generation had cultivated a more pragmatic outlook, maintaining broad dealings with many newly risen officials of common background.

Among the guests at today’s banquet were indeed several wives of officials from scholarly, non-aristocratic families. Fang Jinshu’s words just now — overbearing and discourteous as they were — and that particular phrase about being “unfit to stand on equal footing” had effectively insulted every official in the hall who had risen from humble origins.

Unless one came from a hereditary noble clan, who could not trace their ancestry back a few generations to farmers?

Fang Jinshu had not expected her to dare talk back. Caught off-guard and unable to find a response, her beautiful eyes widened wider and wider with fury, and she was visibly on the verge of raising a hand to strike.

But at that very moment, Madam Li, who had been eating at a nearby table, rose and walked over.

Her husband was the renowned contemporary scholar Official Li Guitian, and her own father was a celebrated master of epigraphic studies — she herself was a woman of upright and principled character.

Watching her benefactor’s blind wife being harassed so deliberately by the Princess Rui, she could not stand by any longer. She walked to Su Luoyun’s side and took her hand: “I’ve been looking for you everywhere — so this is where you were. Come with me, back to my table. There are several ladies who have been wanting to ask you about blending fragrances to soothe and calm the mind!”

Before she had even finished speaking, she had already drawn Su Luoyun and Han Yao away to a table at the far other end of the hall. Those seated at that table were all wives of officials from scholarly, non-aristocratic families — no one there would take issue with matters of background and pedigree.

First Su Luoyun had met her barbs with words that were neither too soft nor too yielding, leaving her momentarily at a loss. Now she watched as Madam Li — a woman of standing and prestige in court circles — personally came to the blind woman’s rescue in full view of everyone. Fang Jinshu was so furious her cheeks flushed crimson.

She had assumed today would go the same way as when she had humiliated Han Yao at the Princess’s manor — that once she set the tone, others would naturally follow her lead in making Su Luoyun’s situation uncomfortable.

She had not anticipated that in just this short stretch of time, this blind woman had actually managed to quietly win over a significant number of people.

The table Su Luoyun had moved to was entirely composed of wives from scholarly families. Even if Fang Jinshu went over to stir up trouble again, no one there would side with her.

In recent years, although the divide between officials of humble origins and those from established aristocratic families was no longer as starkly defined as it had been at the dynasty’s founding, the unfathomable chasm between them remained as present as ever.

No matter how brilliantly talented an official from a common background might be, his path of advancement still could not compare with that of a son from an aristocratic family.

Just a few years earlier, there had even been an official audacious enough to submit a proposal to the Emperor suggesting that the aristocratic families’ noble titles be preserved, while the practice of passing official positions from father to son be abolished — allowing the sons of great families to enter the imperial examinations alongside everyone else, with appointments made purely on merit.

This thoroughly presumptuous proposal had naturally been denounced and rejected by the Emperor. Yet the private grievances and resentments among officials of humble origins were, on that account, not difficult to imagine.

This Su Luoyun clearly had a gift for it — she had somehow managed to move among those self-styled upright scholars of modest origins as if in her natural element.

Birds of a feather, flocking together — she had truly found her kind.

Seated at the nearby table, the wife of King Heng cast an impassive glance at her sister, whose cheeks were flushed with fury.

If her younger sister had not yet married, she as the elder sibling would have intervened at any cost to restrain her, to prevent her from losing composure in public and shaming the Fang family’s reputation.

But now her younger sister was already the Princess Rui — her every word and action carried implications for the Ninth Prince.

What her younger sister had just said in mocking and disparaging Su Luoyun had, in fact, also managed to offend every common-born official’s family member present at the banquet.

It was worth recalling that Li Guitian had once rendered the Ninth Prince considerable assistance — deliberately redirecting attention from the embankment collapse onto the corrupt officials, which had allowed the Ninth Prince to escape the charge of fraternal persecution.

And the Ninth Prince’s own intention had been to use this opportunity to draw Official Li closer, and through the prestige of his name, bring the officials of humble scholarly origin in court to line up on his side.

Yet with Fang Jinshu’s words just now, she had in one stroke managed to offend every single person in court who had come from a common background…

Whether the Ninth Prince, upon hearing of her remarks, would or would not be displeased with her — that was a question unto itself.

Fang Jinrou silently sighed for her younger sister. Though they were sisters, each had married into a different household, and each husband’s position was now at odds with the other’s. She had no choice but to put her husband first.

She could only hope that the Emperor would establish the Crown Prince without further delay, resolving the knot of discord between the two brothers — so that with seniority settled and the distinction between ruler and minister made clear, she and her younger sister might finally be free to get along with one another again, without this veil of grievance between them.