By custom, the Empress’s card gathering lasted two full hours.

Until the mistress of the palace called an end to the session, no one could decently excuse herself first. This was precisely why Fang Jinshu, though barely able to bear it any longer, endured again and again.

Su Luoyun could feel the unusual odor in the air growing steadily more pronounced. She knew clearly in her heart that if the incense continued to burn, sooner or later something unpleasant would occur — and both she and Consort Yu would be impossible to exonerate.

As her thoughts churned, a soft meowing suddenly sounded near her feet. The Empress’s amber-eyed Persian tribute cat had wandered over and was circling around her legs, reluctant to leave.

Su Luoyun knew she had always had a way with cats — but this one refusing to move on seemed somewhat strange.

Even as her mind raced, she felt at her waist the sachet the cat’s paws had been pawing at persistently.

When her fingers closed around the corner of the sachet bearing its embroidered marking, a realization struck her — that morning, when Ji Qiu had been urging her to make peace with Han Linfeng, she had been distracted and had carelessly picked up a sachet from the table, only to take — as ill luck would have it — the one she normally used when playing with the cats.

Axue and Arong were particularly fond of a foreign-imported herb called epazote. Its scent drove cats to utter distraction.

Even the most unruly cat, given a few dried leaves, would half-close its eyes and rub against them contentedly for a long while.

The sachet Su Luoyun was wearing now contained a few such leaves. It appeared the cat had caught the scent and come nosing over for that reason.

The realization gave Su Luoyun an idea at once.

The inner receiving hall of the central palace was spacious. Some of the ladies who were not playing cards would stroll leisurely around the sides of the hall from time to time, admiring the many varieties of hydrangeas the Empress had arranged along the covered walkway.

Su Luoyun first rubbed a piece of epazote leaf between her fingers for a moment. Then, using fatigue from sitting as her excuse, she rose to walk about for a bit, and had Xiangcao guide her over to the incense burner. There, in full view of the palace maids nearby, she used the long-handled copper scoop to add a little more incense — and while she was at it, ran her hands over the burner, feeling the elegant contours of the piece as a connoisseur might.

She was blind, after all — naturally she would need to appreciate the artistry of the incense burner through touch. Using the excuse of examining and admiring it, she quietly and without drawing attention shifted the burner slightly, nudging it closer to the edge of the table.

From across the hall, Consort Yu happened to glance back through the bead curtain and, seeing this, called out with a smile: “Shizi’s consort, you are so practiced with incense burners — feel it well and tell me, how is the craftsmanship?”

Su Luoyun smiled in return: “The framework is wrought from woven bronze wire — no ordinary casting could produce a form so lifelike, with wings poised as if for flight. Consort Yu truly spared no effort in seeking out such skilled craftsmen.”

As she finished speaking, she turned and made her way back to her seat, accepted the damp cloth Ji Qiu handed her to wipe her hands, picked up her teacup, and waited quietly.

Not long after, a loud clang rang out.

The cat had tired of circling Su Luoyun. At some point unknown to anyone, it had leapt up onto the table where the incense burner sat and, as though suddenly drunk, began pushing at the burner with its body.

A palace female official caught sight of it and hurried over to carry the cat away — but she arrived one step too late.

The cat was the Empress’s cherished pet, raised plump and well-fed, and possessed of considerable strength. Moreover, the incense burner’s design was top-heavy by nature, and the slightest imbalance would send it toppling.

With the large cat pushing against it so vigorously, the tall burner was shoved clean off the table and crashed to the floor.

In an instant, the floor was covered in water and incense ash. The burner itself had fallen and broken — the crane’s beak snapped clean off.

Consort Yu scrambled to her feet with cries of alarm, unable to decide in that moment whether to mourn the incense burner or the Empress’s beloved cat.

Fortunately, the water stored inside the burner’s belly had not scalded the cat’s fur. Otherwise, all her elaborate flattery would have backfired spectacularly.

Because of the mess to be cleaned up, eunuchs and palace maids moved in and out in a flurry, and a rush of fresh air swept into the chamber, quickly dispersing the incense within.

The Empress, perhaps weary by now, turned and took her beloved cat from a palace maid’s arms, stroking its soft fur, and said with a smile: “I am getting on in years — let us call it done. Everyone may go.”

The assembled ladies, all of them perceptive, graciously took their leave of the Empress and departed.

As the ladies filed one by one into their sedan chairs and were carried out through the palace gates, Fang Jinshu — who had been holding herself together by sheer force of will — suddenly changed color. She began retching violently, hammering on the side of the sedan chair until it stopped. She alighted in haste, shoved aside the maidservants near her, ran to one side, and vomited against the palace wall.

The assembled ladies, baffled, all paused to look back at the Consort Rui.

Having disgraced herself publicly, and seething with suppressed fury, Fang Jinshu lifted her head and glared at Su Luoyun: “What kind of wretched incense did you blend? It smelled absolutely foul. Were you trying to make me look like a fool in front of Her Majesty the Empress?”

Su Luoyun watched her lay blame immediately at the door of her own incense, and simply received it as though Fang Jinshu were expressing her thanks. She thought privately: No need for gratitude. If I hadn’t been acting in my own defense, I might have been quite content to watch you make a scene.

Fang Jinrou, seeing that her younger sister appeared genuinely unwell, quickly had a carriage brought and saw her sister off back to the Rui Prince’s residence.

The other ladies had also descended from their sedan chairs to change to carriages, and seeing this unfold, could not help murmuring among themselves: “She was sick to that degree? She has only been married a little over a month — could she perhaps be with child?”

Fang Jinrou said nothing, but her expression held not a trace of joy on her sister’s behalf — it was unclear what was passing through her mind.

Su Luoyun, for her part, hastily returned to her own carriage. She was not certain whether what she had done inside the palace — using the cat to topple the incense burner — had been necessary at all.

But for the sake of caution, to avoid being made into someone else’s scapegoat, she had seen no choice.

As she stepped down from the carriage, still weighed down by her thoughts, she found Su Caijian and Han Yao waiting together at the front gate of the Shizi’s residence to receive her.

It turned out that Caijian, bored with nothing to occupy her, had long wished to stroll through the gardens of the Shizi’s residence. But the servants, acting on their mistress’s instructions, had been unable to allow her to wander freely through the household.

Today, while Han Yao was walking in the Western Flower Garden, Caijian had caught sight of her through the newly opened archway in the adjoining courtyard wall, and had called out to the young commandery princess from the arched gateway of the Su family’s courtyard.

Han Yao knew little of the Su family’s internal affairs, but she understood that Caijian was her sister-in-law’s younger sister, and naturally received her with proper courtesy. Out of politeness, she invited Caijian to join her for a turn around the Western Flower Garden.

Since the young commandery princess had extended the invitation, the servants had no grounds to intervene, and could only follow along step by step.

It happened that Su Luoyun returned at just that moment, so the two of them came to the front gate to receive her.

Su Luoyun, her mind full of other concerns, had little energy to deal with Caijian. She asked a few brief questions about her recent daily life, then turned to go back inside.

She had only just come from the palace, and traces of the incense burner’s fragrance still clung to her hands and clothing. As she brushed past Caijian, Caijian was caught by the scent — she sneezed, then suddenly changed color, covered her mouth, and turned aside to retch.

Han Yao was startled and quickly patted Caijian on the back, calling to her maidservants to fetch a physician.

But Caijian waved her off repeatedly, saying only that she must have eaten something that disagreed with her that morning and would recover after resting a while. With that, she hurried back to the small courtyard.

Han Yao turned to look at her sister-in-law, and found her standing perfectly still, apparently lost in thought about something.

Han Yao assumed she was worried about her younger sister’s health — but when Su Luoyun finally spoke, she said: “Caijian is not yet married, and there are many men in this household. For the sake of appearances, it would be better, Commandery Princess, if you did not invite her here in future.”

Han Yao found these words oddly tense and was taken aback, feeling that her sister-in-law was making too much of a small matter.

Su Luoyun seemed to realize she had overreacted, and softened her manner a little. She unhurriedly asked about how the two of them had spent the afternoon together.

Han Yao told her honestly, but Su Luoyun felt the account lacked detail and continued to draw her out with patient questions.

So Han Yao thought it over further and added that the Second Miss Su had seemed quite interested in the daily life of her elder sister and brother-in-law — particularly worried about the business of her sister-in-law and the Shizi being at odds, and had asked repeatedly about how long the Shizi intended to sleep in the study and when he would return from his official duties.

Su Luoyun listened with a quiet smile and said no more.

Some days passed. The news that the Consort Rui was with child gradually filtered out from the lips of the imperial physicians who had been sent to examine her, and spread to households across the city.

Su Luoyun heard the news at one of Princess Yuyang’s tea gatherings.

The Princess, upon hearing it, gave a cold laugh: “She certainly has a capable womb — barely married and already expecting. Congratulations are in order for the Ninth Imperial Brother!”

Su Luoyun listened without any change of expression. In truth, she had been waiting for this news. Hearing it now confirmed the suspicions she had formed before.

Certain things, the more one thought about them, the more chilling they became. Even Fang Jinshu herself had apparently not known she was with child. It was not until the previous day, when she left the palace feeling unwell in her stomach, that an imperial physician called to attend her had confirmed the pregnancy.

Someone had known about Fang Jinshu’s pregnancy before Fang Jinshu herself did — and had laid a meticulous, all-encompassing trap, using the hands of Consort Yu and a blind young woman to weave a net around the child in Fang Jinshu’s womb.

It was reported that the Consort Rui’s vital energy had been slightly disturbed, requiring her to rest and protect the pregnancy — but that she was largely unharmed, experiencing only the ordinary discomforts of early pregnancy, and would need to take care going forward.

The Ninth Prince’s household apparently responded with considerable alarm, reportedly conducting a thorough re-examination of all the personal attendants and maidservants who served the consort — evidently unwilling to allow any further risk to this pregnancy.

Presumably because the Ninth Prince had struggled so with succession, and feared any further calamity.

But Su Luoyun knew in her heart: had the incense burned for even a little longer that day, Fang Jinshu’s child would almost certainly not have survived. She could only wonder whether the person who had orchestrated all of this was in good spirits now.

At the same time, news of the Consort Rui remaining confined to the Rui Prince’s residence to protect her pregnancy also reached the palace.

Fu Ruhai, the senior eunuch of the central palace, had served the Empress for over a decade and was one of the most seasoned figures in the palace hierarchy. He bent low beside the Empress, who lay upon her day bed, and murmured softly: “So it appears the physician who examined the Consort Rui earlier was not mistaken after all — she is indeed with child.”

Fang Jinshu had not yet known herself that she was pregnant — but the Empress had already obtained the information from the imperial physician who had taken her routine pulse readings, and had instructed him to conceal the diagnosis and not inform the Rui Prince’s residence first.

It was precisely because of this carefully cultivated connection that the Empress had gained the advantage of first knowledge — and yet, in the end, it had all come to nothing. The plan had not succeeded.

Fu Ruhai, observing the displeasure on the Empress’s face, ventured quietly: “In truth, this may be for the best. Had Fang Jinshu lost the child, it might have implicated Your Majesty as well — after all, the incident occurred within the central palace.”

The Empress gave a cold laugh: “I arranged it within the central palace precisely so that the Qiong Consort would know full well what had been done, and yet be powerless to prove anything. What of it if she suspects? Does she have evidence?”

She was infuriated that His Majesty had treated her with such contempt. The Lu Ducal family had been her own selection as a powerful ally for the Sixth Prince, Han Chen — and yet His Majesty had turned around and permitted that wretched woman’s son to also take a daughter of the Fang family as his consort.

If she were to swallow this humiliation without response, she was no true daughter of the Changxi Wang family.

And yet — who could have foreseen it? Victory had been within reach, only to be defeated by a cat.

Had the cat not knocked over the incense burner, had the incense burned only a little longer, the second Fang daughter would likely have suffered a hemorrhage and miscarried within the central palace itself.

At that point, if the Imperial Noble Consort Qiong had come with the Ninth Prince to make accusations and cause a scene, she could have pushed forward Consort Yu, and that blind young woman, to stand and confront them.

Both of those women had already made enemies of Noble Consort Qiong, or of Fang Jinshu — they would have made the perfect scapegoats to take the blame.

All the ladies present at the gathering could have testified that not a single person from the central palace had touched the incense burner from beginning to end.

The Empress had calculated everything with great precision — she simply had not accounted for a cat leaping up and knocking the burner off the table. Otherwise, the imperial heir in Fang Jinshu’s womb would most certainly not have been preserved.

Just then, the very cat that had overturned the incense burner jumped up onto the day bed and, as was its custom, settled itself beside the Empress and began nuzzling for affection. It was a tribute cat from Persia, and had always been a great favorite of the Empress’s.

But today, the cat was abruptly raised by one foot and kicked sharply off the bed.

“Have it disposed of.” With the Empress’s cold command, a palace attendant immediately scooped up the cat — which was crying out piteously — and carried it away.

Fu Ruhai quickly lowered his head and did not dare say another word.

Having served the Empress for so many years, he understood her nature better than anyone. Even the most cherished of favorites — should they obstruct a great plan — would be swept aside without a second thought.

In truth, on that day the Empress and the others had been seated around the card tables behind the bead curtain, and would not have kept their eyes fixed on the incense burner the entire time.

But Fu Ruhai, standing at the Empress’s side, had seen most clearly of anyone what had happened.

He remembered: just before the cat had caused its mischief, the Northern Garrison Shizi’s consort had appeared to shift the incense burner slightly.

But she was not a party to this scheme — she had most likely done so absentmindedly while feeling her way around the burner in admiration. Had she not moved it, the burner might not have fallen at all.

Fu Ruhai’s mouth opened, then closed again. In the end, he kept his silence.

The Northern Garrison Shizi was an irreverent sort, it was true — but he was a man who understood the ways of the world and knew how to make himself agreeable. In the past, whenever he came across fine curios or novelties worth enjoying, he had been generous toward the eunuchs of the palace. In his leisure time, he had even invited palace eunuchs along to the gambling dens to play a few rounds, losing large wads of banknotes to them with apparent good cheer.

Even Fu Ruhai himself, at the religious ceremony the Shizi had previously organized, had received a generous silver offering — in exchange for putting in a few favorable words before the Empress and His Majesty.

According to the Empress’s scheme, that blind Shizi’s consort had been the unlucky one — she was to have been used as a piece in someone else’s game. As it happened, the incense burner had fallen and she had escaped by sheer luck, spared from bearing the charge of having harmed the Consort Rui.

Fu Ruhai was content enough to do a good deed. He simply did not mention Su Luoyun’s unwitting role in what had happened.

Because if the Empress were to learn of it, Su Luoyun’s fate would likely be no better than that of the cat.

As Fu Ruhai passed out through the gates of the central palace, he gave a sardonic smile and muttered to himself: “That useless couple — they really do seem to carry some measure of fortune with them. Time and again they’ve been at death’s very door, and each time they’ve managed to slip away. It defies all reason. Can it be that the ritual they performed truly drew down some divine blessing, and that is why disaster keeps turning to fortune? Perhaps this old servant ought to go and make an offering to the gods and Buddhas one of these days.”

As for Han Linfeng, who had gone to Yanzhou to oversee the construction of the naval vessels — he returned after some ten-odd days.

Su Luoyun had no patience to spare for their quarrel at the moment. She told him to come inside, and when there was no one else about, she recounted everything that had taken place in the palace, from beginning to end.

She also told him what she had done on her own initiative: how she had rubbed epazote onto her hands while pretending to add incense and feel her way around the burner, leaving enough of the herb’s scent on its surface to attract the cat, which had then knocked it over.

Han Linfeng listened with a furrowed brow and immediately turned and went out to summon the household physician to take Su Luoyun’s pulse.

If her suspicions were correct, the incense burner had certainly contained something harmful. And Su Luoyun was of an age when childbearing was entirely possible — had she been breathing in those same fumes all that time, might she not have suffered some lasting harm?

Su Luoyun was both amused and exasperated by this reaction. She felt he was missing the forest for the trees — but she had no choice but to let the physician examine her first.

The physician reported that the Shizi’s consort showed only slight irregularity in her vital energy, which he attributed most likely to excessive anxiety and worry, and that there was nothing of serious concern otherwise. As for the irregularity, it was probably due to her poor sleep and unsettled spirits of late, and a course of tonic treatment would set things right.

Han Linfeng confirmed this three times over before he allowed himself to set aside his worry — though he could not help feeling a small pang of disappointment.

After all the time they had spent together, how was it that she had not yet conceived?

He had the physician prescribe a course of detoxifying and restorative remedies for Su Luoyun to take, to forestall any lingering effects.

That same day, they took a carriage out of the city under the pretense of visiting a country estate for recreation, and made their way to a pharmacy in a neighboring county.

Han Linfeng was generous with his money. He temporarily hired out the entire shop and had Su Luoyun go along the medicine drawers one by one, smelling each in turn.

With so many pungent smells mingling together, it was genuinely difficult to distinguish one from another. Fortunately, Su Luoyun’s nose was as keen as a hound’s. She paused when she reached three of the drawers.

When she mixed the three herbs together and smelled them carefully one more time, she was certain — this was the medicinal note she had detected in the incense burner that day.

Han Linfeng recorded the names of the three herbs and afterward consulted someone versed in pharmacology. Blended together, those three substances formed a potent abortifacient. With sandalwood and moxa added as fixatives, the efficacy of the mixture became even more ferocious.

The anomalous scent within the incense burner that day had been no accident — someone had placed it there deliberately.

Su Luoyun could not help thinking then of the Ninth Prince’s previous consort, who had died along with her unborn child. It seemed that the continuation of the Ninth Prince’s line was still destined to be fraught with difficulty.

And the person who had planned all of this with such thorough precision — this was not something a fool like Consort Yu could have conceived. Su Luoyun could not help but think of the Empress, who had sat all this time in her high seat, serene and unmoved.

As the undisputed mistress of the central palace, she would certainly have known in advance that Consort Yu was having an incense burner specially made as a gift for her.

Arranging to tamper with Consort Yu’s incense burner beforehand would have required no effort at all. And summoning Su Luoyun to the palace had naturally and effortlessly provided the occasion for the burning of incense.

From beginning to end, the Empress had not personally involved herself in a single step — and yet she had spread this net around them all, link by link.

She had apparently factored in the fact that both Consort Yu and Su Luoyun had already made an enemy of Fang Jinshu. What skill at killing without drawing blood.

And yet one thing Su Luoyun could not fathom: if someone intended to act, there were countless other places they might have chosen. Why specifically within the central palace?

Han Linfeng, however, had worked this out.

He frowned deeply and said: “The Empress is a daughter of the Changxi Wang family. Though the Lu Ducal Fang family has grown increasingly powerful in recent generations, producing several capable ministers — among the military commanders holding the northern borders, fully half are men of the Changxi Wang family. His Majesty’s growing partiality toward the Ninth Prince — and particularly the bestowal of Fang Jinshu in marriage to him — has touched the one thing the Empress will not tolerate.”

He paused, then said quietly: “By doing this within the central palace, the Empress was sending a warning — unmistakable, and yet impossible to pin on her.”

Fresh battlefield dispatches had just arrived: Yi Prefecture, held by the Imperial Noble Consort Qiong’s elder brother, had been overrun by the rebel forces of Qiu Zhen. The defeated national uncle, rather than stand and fight for the lives of the city’s civilians and soldiers, had fled alone in panic. Upon reaching Jing Prefecture, which bordered Yi Prefecture, he had been seized by General Wang Yun of the Changxi Wang family on charges of dereliction of duty — and beheaded, his body displayed at the city gates.

With the war at the front now pressing urgently, His Majesty would inevitably need to rely upon the Changxi Wang family and powerful clans such as the Fang family.

As for Noble Consort Qiong — a family that had clawed its way up on nothing but a woman’s beauty — what did they amount to in the end? Did they truly think that raising their brothers and nephews to military rank, and then marrying the Ninth Prince into the Fang family, was enough to place them on equal footing with the Wang family?

The Empress’s calculations this time had been precise to the last degree: the beheading of Noble Consort Qiong’s brother in the northern territories, and the scheme within the palace to cause Fang Jinshu to lose her child.

These two swift, sudden blows, delivered in succession, sent a message in no uncertain terms — to Noble Consort Qiong, to His Majesty, and even to the Fang family, who had been quietly positioning themselves to surpass the Wang family: on the land of Great Wei, which house was the true pillar of the nation, the backbone of its defense.

It was simply unfortunate that Su Luoyun — an entirely uninvolved bystander — had been drawn in by the Empress’s scheme, and had nearly been saddled with the crime and swept up in the carnage of the great clans’ struggle, sacrificed as an offering on someone else’s altar.

But fortunately, Su Luoyun had been perceptive enough. Her nose had detected the wrongness in the fragrance, and she had used epazote with quiet cleverness to defuse a crisis.

As for Fang Jinshu — she had suffered through a difficult ordeal, but the child in her womb was unharmed. She could hardly claim that Su Luoyun’s incense had harmed her, when all she had experienced were the ordinary discomforts of early pregnancy.

Su Luoyun sat with her head bowed, still turning all of this over in her mind, when Han Linfeng suddenly reached out and pulled her into his arms. He said in a low voice: “These days apart, I kept thinking — why had I been so fixed on marrying you in the first place? Was it because I believed I could protect you, or because I could not bring myself to let you go — and so kept finding high-minded reasons to justify myself? But now, I find myself wishing we had never met at all. If we hadn’t, you might have been spared the storms and dangers that have nothing to do with you — and been left untangled from all of this.”

Su Luoyun was silent for a moment. She knew, of course, that if she had not married Han Linfeng, she would never have been caught up in this struggle among dragons and tigers.

But hearing him express regret now — she found it did not sit well with her at all. She said quietly: “You have had your fill and more, and now you say this? Are you trying to divorce me?”

Han Linfeng gave a rueful laugh and reached up to tuck a strand of hair back from her temple. “Had my fill? I haven’t had nearly enough. Night after night I dream of you burrowing into my arms — I’ve nearly forgotten what you smell like.”

Su Luoyun had not expected this man of such deep reserve to suddenly grumble at her like a child who hadn’t been fed enough. Her face flushed red at once. She shoved him away with both hands: “Stop talking such nonsense. Didn’t you just say you wanted to let me go?”

Han Linfeng could hold back no longer. He reached out and pulled her back into his arms, his voice low: “But Heaven saw fit to let me meet you — how could I release you now? If you want a divorce, you will have to wait until the next flood comes and sweeps me away beyond return. Then you will be free.”

These words showed far too little respect for life and death.

Su Luoyun could not stop herself from raising a fist as large as a copper basin and hammering it against his chest: “How dare you say such a thing. Are you trying to make me receive another white mourning envelope? Or listen to more of those indecent verses from your worthless, dissolute companions?”

In earlier days, she had regarded this man of such deep reserve — this scion of the imperial family — with a mixture of deference and wariness. Later, that had become something closer to reverence and gratitude.

But then, when she discovered what a scoundrel he truly was — how he had calculated and maneuvered against her with such deliberate cunning — her reverence had dissolved entirely, replaced by an inexhaustible irritation.

There had never been another man in her life who occupied her thoughts as this one did. The feeling in her heart was complex beyond all description, a hundred flavors mingled at once.

She could not even say for herself whether she resented him more — or pitied him more.

Translator’s Notes — Yun Bin Tian Shang – Chapter 62

Yun Bin Tian Shang – Chapter 62 resolves the central mystery set up in Yun Bin Tian Shang – Chapter 61 while simultaneously elevating the political stakes considerably. The structure is elegant: Su Luoyun’s solution — using epazote to attract the Empress’s cat and topple the burner — is revealed as an improvisation built from the most ordinary detail (a sachet she grabbed absentmindedly that morning). The text rewards careful readers who noticed the epazote detail in Yun Bin Tian Shang – Chapter 61 as something more than background color.

The behind-the-scenes reveal of the Empress as architect is rendered with considerable economy. Her cold fury at the cat, the dismissal of her cherished pet with a single command, and Fu Ruhai’s decision to stay silent about Su Luoyun’s role all characterize her with precision: a woman who calculates everything and tolerates nothing that stands between her and her objectives. Fu Ruhai’s sardonic final monologue provides a tonal release valve after the sustained tension of the palace scenes.

The political exposition via Han Linfeng — connecting the Yi Prefecture military loss, the Changxi Wang family’s dominance in the north, and the Empress’s motivation for acting in the central palace specifically — is the chapter’s most analytically dense passage. The argument being made: the central palace was chosen not despite its obviousness but because of it. The Empress wished Noble Consort Qiong to know, while remaining shielded by perfect deniability.

The closing scene shifts registers entirely, moving into the domestic and personal. Han Linfeng’s half-regretful admission that he wishes they had never met — followed immediately by Su Luoyun’s deflecting retort about divorce — is characteristic of how this narrative handles intimacy: obliquely, through bickering and deflection, with affection buried under friction. The image of Su Luoyun raising her fist “as large as a copper basin” is a moment of deliberate comic deflation. Her final reflection — unable to determine whether she resents him or pities him more — is the novel’s most honest articulation so far of the ambivalence at the heart of their relationship.

Key translation decisions: 土荆芥 (epazote / wormseed, a strong-scented herb) rendered as “epazote” throughout for consistency; 血崩小产 rendered as “hemorrhage and miscarriage” to preserve the clinical specificity of the original; 白包 (white mourning envelope, given as condolence money at funerals) retained in explanation as “white mourning envelope” to preserve the cultural register of Su Luoyun’s dark humor.