The night wind was cool. Minglan gave a small sneeze. The bear-like man was heating a jug of wine for the woman with good water skills. The woman noticed Minglan shivering and held out a small cup. On the cold clear river wind, Minglan caught a faint drift of wine fragrance. The woman smiled, “If you don’t mind, have some to warm up.”

Minglan looked immediately to Gu Tingye — children follow adults’ lead. Gu Tingye saw Minglan’s clear dark eyes looking over, felt an inward ease, and gave a slight nod. Only then did Minglan, from within her cotton quilt cocoon, extend one small clenched fist, take the cup, turn her wrist and toss it back in one go, returned the cup, and said brightly: “Thank you.”

The wine was mellow and rich; a stream of warmth rose at once from inside her body.

The woman and the other men on the boat seemed faintly surprised. They had seen their share of young ladies from wealthy and noble households, every one of them delicate and fastidiously proud. They had not expected this girl — pretty and dainty as a little doll — to carry herself with such open, unaffected ease, without a trace of prim discomfort. The bear-like man was first to raise a big thumb and boom heartily: “That’s my great niece! What spirit!”

The woman also smiled and introduced herself: “Don’t take offense, Miss. My husband makes his living in the world of wandering knights. We are an informal sort. I’m called Che Niang.”

Only then did Minglan take a proper look at this woman. She appeared to be in her late teens, her face a little sun-darkened, with large eyes and a wide mouth — lively and pleasant-looking. She pointed around the boat and made introductions one by one: the bear-like man was her husband, named Shi Keng; the somewhat shorter but equally muscular young man was Shi Keng’s younger brother, Shi Qiang; the slender, fair-faced youth standing at the prow was named Yu Long — they were all of the canal boatmen’s brotherhood. Standing beside Gu Tingye was a middle-aged man in scholar’s dress, smiling pleasantly, named Gongsun Baishi; behind him was a sharp-eyed, alert-looking boy clearly of the same family, named Gongsun Meng — they were uncle and nephew.

Minglan worked hard to free both small hands from within the cotton quilt cocoon and formed them into a pair of soft white buns which she pressed together in a respectful salute, very politely: “I’ve not had the honor before, but long have I admired you all.”

The Shi brothers were simple-hearted fellows, probably didn’t fully understand the phrase, but returned the salute with warm enthusiasm anyway. Che Niang and the Gongsun uncle and nephew could barely keep from laughing. Yu Long snuck a glance at Minglan, found her brows and eyes like a painting, a radiant beauty beyond words, and flushed red, looking quickly away. Gu Tingye turned back around, his expression unremarkable — though somehow, the countless stars in the sky overhead were no match for the brightness of his eyes.

Just then a second small boat drew up alongside. Everyone except the Shi brothers made the jump across. Che Niang settled down beside Minglan and said with a smile, “Your boat should be clear by now. We’ll head back first so you can change your clothes, and the brothers will make sure every one of your maidservants is fished out. The brotherhood’s swimmers are extraordinary — they’ll find them all.”

Minglan thanked her profusely, though she was privately baffled as to when exactly the canal boatmen’s brotherhood had become a waterway law-enforcement squad.

The fighting on the river was gradually dying down. The Shi brothers flanked the little boat fore and aft as escorts, and Che Niang held Minglan close, keeping watch all around. Minglan watched as they gradually drew back toward the Sheng family’s big vessel, and could not help looking back — she saw Gu Tingye standing with one foot up on the prow, a large bow in hand, drawing and releasing shot after shot. His arms were bent like a crouching ape and his waist was taut, and with each whistle through the air, several spots on the river surface that had been moving went still, leaving spreading blooms of dark blood. The other men alongside did the same. As for the human heads still bobbing on the water — they were rather like moving targets. In the faint moonlight, Gu Tingye’s expression was shadowed and unreadable, his tall frame looking down over the corpses rising to the surface of the river, and where any were still writhing and crying out, a single arrow would end it. He had the bearing of a hawk or a wolf — every eye filled with killing instinct. Minglan shivered in spite of herself.

The Shi brothers handled the boat with great skill, producing barely a ripple on the water, and the small punt glided ahead as if in flight, approaching the big ship with a quiet, gentle ease. As they went, Minglan and Che Niang had a casual conversation, and Minglan, in just a few exchanges, drew out enough information to give herself a quiet shock: Shi Keng’s position was actually that of the newly appointed vice-head of the canal boatmen’s brotherhood. She had heard him calling Gu Tingye “Elder Brother” with total ease and assumed he was just an ordinary man of the river world.

Minglan gave a quiet sigh. “What can one say — to be robbed by bandits and then helped out by the vice-head himself. Not a bad deal, all things considered.” Che Niang’s lively wide eyes sparkled with amusement. “And you don’t even try to decline.”

Minglan spread her hands with perfect honesty. “I don’t know how to steer a boat. If I turned him down, who would man the oar? Might as well thicken my face a little.”

Che Niang laughed so hard she swayed and gave Minglan a couple of playful slaps.

The Sheng family’s big vessel had not sustained major damage. Minglan was barely back on board before she saw Xiaotao standing at the rail, looking left and right; beside her stood Danju, her face tight with anxiety. Minglan’s eyes went wide. She let the two maidservants fall on her with weeping and laughing all at once, and then went inside and asked urgently, “How are you still on the boat? Wasn’t there any… trouble?” She looked them both over from head to foot — not a scratch on either of them. She was utterly baffled.

Xiaotao was tremendously pleased with herself. “Could I really drag Danju Sister and swim fast? So I took her and went breath-holding, and we hid under the hull of the boat. Every so often we came up for air. The bandits were too busy chasing after everyone else; they didn’t think to look under the hull. It was dark too, so no one noticed. We were going to swim to the far bank, but then a group of people arrived and drove all the bandits off the boat, so we just came back up.”

Minglan stared at Xiaotao for a long moment without speaking. She thought to herself: now that is true great wisdom and great courage.

Danju helped Minglan change from the inside out into a fresh set of dry clothes, brought a dry cloth to wipe down her hair, and pinned it into a quick neat coil. Che Niang’s frame was rather larger than Minglan’s, so Xiaotao went and found a set of Yun’er’s clothes for her to change into. After that, Minglan had someone take a count of the people on board: most of the Sheng household servants and guards were fine; two boatmen had died, and seven or eight had been injured. Minglan asked Danju to note down the names, so they could offer proper compensation on returning.

Then two manservants came in with a matron, whom they threw to the floor. Danju ground her teeth the moment she saw them. “Miss — these are the ones who gave us away!”

Minglan sat in the upper position, glancing sideways at the oil lamp that had been hastily placed by the table, its small flame throwing the whole room into a dim, shifting, slightly unearthly light. She lowered her head and stroked the embossed floral velvet jacket she wore — cool and smooth to the touch, fine Jiangnan brocade. Below her knelt the three matrons, hair tangled, kowtowing steadily, their faces running with tears and mucus.

Minglan said quietly: “Tell me what happened.”

One of the matrons gathered her courage and explained: “Miss, please understand — the bandits had us, but they couldn’t find any valuables, and in their fury they were threatening to kill us! We were truly frightened to death… Miss, we had no intention of betraying you, truly we did not. Please spare us!”

The three matrons pleaded and begged continuously. The manservant beside them gave them a few kicks out of anger. Danju, remembering the terror of those moments, was furious, and said loudly, “Dying for one’s mistress is worth it. Otherwise why would the house feed the likes of you? I asked around already — at that point all the bandits had done was rough you up a few times. All you had to do was what Miss said — point them to the small punt and say the family had taken everything and gone to the far bank, the ship was empty — wouldn’t that have been the end of it? You only said what you said because you were afraid of dying, in a panic, and nearly got our Miss killed in the process!”

Minglan’s expression was blank. She kept her head bowed, slowly tracing the pattern on the cloth, then looked up, sighed, and said, “Very well. Have someone keep watch on these three. When we reach Yuyang, I will ask the Old Madam to release you from service.” The three matrons began to plead again. Minglan raised a tired hand and waved it off. “You made a mistake in a moment of terror — that much is understandable. But your life is a life, and other people’s lives are lives too. I won’t punish you, but I cannot keep you either.”

She had them escorted out. Just then Che Niang came in and, catching the tail end of the scene, laughed: “Great-niece really is too soft-hearted. In our brotherhood, if someone sold out a brother and leaked a secret, they’d be called before the council that very day, and in front of Lord Guan the Second, we’d put six cuts through them!”

Danju, who had still been simmering, hesitated. “That… severe?”

Xiaotao came bouncing in from outside with an air of great self-satisfaction: “Sister, you went soft again! Earlier when you were choking on river water, coughing so hard you nearly snapped in half, you were saying you’d deal with them very harshly — and now you’ve forgotten all about it the moment the pain is gone!”

Minglan looked at Danju’s sheepish face, then said with great seriousness to both Danju and Xiaotao: “So this incident teaches us: if you are not hero material, do not join a brotherhood. Anyone who is in a brotherhood — those are heroes and paragons!” She slipped in a compliment while she was at it, and it cost her nothing.

Che Niang burst out laughing, took Minglan’s hand warmly, and said, “Great-niece, you are truly a delight! I’ve traveled all over north and south, and it’s not that I’ve never met young ladies from great families — but I’ve never met one as amusing as you!”

Minglan said several flustered and deflecting things along the lines of “not at all” and “you flatter me.”

Not long after, a series of heavy footsteps — and Shi Keng came stomping in. The moment he laid eyes on Che Niang’s indigo-blue jacket with its brocaded silver intertwined-lotus-and-branch pattern, his eyes lit up with delight. He grinned: “Wife, that outfit really suits you! You look less dark in it too, and so much slimmer!”

Minglan’s jaw dropped. This man had absolutely no gift for saying the right thing — going home, he was sure to be kneeling on the washboard for this, she thought. But Che Niang didn’t seem upset at all, and laughed cheerfully: “It’s just a fine piece of clothing — as the saying goes, fine feathers make fine birds! Go to Tianyi Pavilion and get me something made like this. What’s a bit of silver?” Shi Keng grabbed his wife by the arm, looking her up and down, and kept nodding with approval. “Done! We’ll go get something made!”

Minglan saw the couple had reached a natural stopping point in their exchange. She stood up properly, composed herself, and said with all formality: “Tonight, if not for the kind aid of you two honored guests and the brothers of the brotherhood, Minglan and all these young women would likely have met a terrible end. This great benevolence cannot be thanked with words alone. Please accept my bow.” She curtsied deeply, her knees nearly reaching the floor, and Xiaotao and Danju quickly bowed in turn.

Shi Keng and his wife hurried to raise them up. Shi Keng kept repeating, “Not a thing! Not a thing! Elder Brother’s niece is my niece — of course we would save her!”

Minglan bowed once more in thanks before consenting to rise. Che Niang, fearing Minglan would thank them again, quickly changed the subject and asked, “Husband, where is your brother?” Shi Keng said, “I left him outside to help. He’s most skilled with external injuries.”

By now the boat was in full bustle. Minglan sent Danju out to direct the serving women in tidying the various cabins that had been turned upside down. She asked Xiaotao to find fuel and kindle a fire to boil water and make tea, then invited the Shi husband and wife to sit and chat.

Minglan had a way about her — easy and entertaining in conversation, forthright, yet warm and polite in manner. The Shi couple relaxed and opened up, and before long they were chatting freely. Shi Keng had grown up in the river world; his father’s generation had all worked the docks. Che Niang had been a fisherman’s daughter from the coast; when disaster struck her hometown, she followed her teacher out into the world to perform for a living, eventually met Shi Keng, and they had married. Minglan found their stories of the wandering world genuinely fascinating and listened with real delight. When Xiaotao brought tea and snacks, Shi Keng wet his throat and went on.

About two years ago they had met Gu Tingye, who had left home and been drifting — they’d liked each other at once and sworn brotherhood. Shi Keng could not speak highly enough of Gu Tingye’s skill and character, and gave a vivid, colorful account of how Gu Tingye had been utterly heroic and remarkable, and had helped his uncle secure the position of brotherhood head. He went on with great relish, words tumbling over each other. The Shi couple, rough but perceptive, let most things go without elaboration, except for the parts that mattered to the brotherhood’s affairs.

“…Ah, Elder Brother’s life has been too hard. He could be a man of means now — good coin and a good name — without ever needing to be the Marquis’s son. Why would he need to…?” Shi Keng started sighing. “The way I see it, Man Niang Sister-in-Law isn’t bad at all. She came all this way from far off to follow him, willing to suffer hardship alongside him, and she’s warm and considerate to all us brothers — but Elder Brother never pays her any attention. He’d rather sleep out in the wind and rain than…”

Che Niang frowned and shoved her husband with an elbow, cutting him off. She glanced uneasily at Minglan, apparently worried he had said too much. Minglan said with easy interest, “Man Niang is here too? I thought she was in the capital — has she brought the children?”

Shi Keng, seeing that Minglan already knew about it, gave his wife a sideways glance and relaxed, then split a wide grin at Minglan. “So you know too, Great-niece. Do you have any idea why Elder Brother is so averse to Man Niang Sister-in-Law?”

Minglan lowered her head, thought for a moment, and said lightly, in an offhand way: “She… did something wrong.”

Che Niang’s eyes flickered with a look of sudden understanding. But Shi Keng was not satisfied and kept at it: “But Elder Brother has had a rough time of things, going from wind to rain — surely he needs a woman to look after him? I think Man Niang Sister-in-Law is fine. The match Elder Brother’s brother arranged for him — well, that was fine too, wasn’t it? How come that came to nothing either…”

Che Niang jabbed her husband hard with a firm elbow and snapped sharply, “What do you know about it, you lout? Mind your own business and stay out of Elder Brother’s household affairs! You called her ‘Sister-in-Law’ that one time, and Elder Brother didn’t speak to you for half a year! You’ve forgotten? Elder Brother hates her following and clinging to him, and there you were encouraging her!”

Shi Keng heard this and his giant frame shrank a little. He shook his head and said nothing.

Che Niang glared at him with exasperation, gave him one more jab, and said in a lighter tone to Minglan: “Pay no attention to him, great-niece.”

Minglan smiled faintly and said in a reassuring tone: “Not at all. Is the match Second Cousin mentioned perhaps with the Peng family in Gannan Qingcheng?”

This past year, with most entertainments banned out of respect for the late Emperor’s mourning period, people in the capital were left with nothing to occupy themselves, and the result was that gossip and idle talk had flourished enormously. Minglan ventured a careful probe: “Did the engagement fall through?”

Che Niang looked cautiously at Minglan, saw nothing but a gentle and pleasant expression, and sighed softly. “Elder Brother’s eldest brother arranged the match. We went to look into it — the Peng family’s circumstances are modest, but the young lady herself is gentle and demure. But then… hmph!” Che Niang gave a cold snort, and continued, “That Peng family was truly infuriating. If you’re unwilling, just say so. But to actually… actually try to offer up a secondary daughter from a collateral branch as a substitute — as if our Elder Brother can’t find a wife and needs their pity?!”

The Peng family of Gannan Qingcheng were descendants of the Marquis of Jinxiang from the reign of Emperor Zongwu, who had lost their titles and had their estates confiscated over some offense, with the whole clan returned to their native place. Though the late Emperor’s reign had not restored their title, some rewards had been given. The family had been working hard at clawing back to prominence ever since, but the Marquis of Jinxiang’s title had ultimately gone to someone else, and all hope of restoration was gone. Even so, through old marriage ties with the capital’s nobility and the fact that family members still held minor official posts, they had not declined either — though to speak of power, they were beneath even Sheng Hong, who could both oversee officials below him and reach the throne directly above.

Gu Tingye’s path to marriage had not been smooth, it seemed. Minglan listened to the end, fell silent for a moment, then first gave a slow nod, and then a slow shake of her head. Shi Keng, baffled, bellowed: “Great-niece, just say what you think!”

Minglan wasn’t inclined to speak, but the Shi couple were both plain and direct, and kept pushing insistently. She didn’t like to be dishonest about what she truly thought, so she chose her words with care and spoke slowly: “The Peng family trying to substitute another girl was genuinely insulting. But their unwillingness to agree to the match in the first place was, in a way, understandable.”

Shi Keng’s face went a deep, indignant red. He craned his neck and was about to retort hotly — when there came a cry of pain: “Ow! What are you doing?” Che Niang had kicked him. Shi Keng bent down rubbing his shin. In that same instant they both noticed: standing at the door was a tall, straight, powerfully built silhouette. Gu Tingye, his face behind its thick beard, had arrived at some point without anyone noticing.

Che Niang was already on her feet, ill at ease. Shi Keng gave a few dry chuckles, moved over to Gu Tingye’s side, and began solicitously inquiring after his health: “Elder Brother’s back! That bunch of bandits must be all taken care of — that was fast.” Che Niang immediately added, “But of course! With Elder Brother handling things, what could possibly go wrong?”

The husband and wife traded lines, their flattery very much in earnest, trying to smooth over the awkwardness of having been caught talking behind someone’s back. Minglan felt thoroughly uncomfortable too — as though she had done something guilty — and stood quietly to one side, offering a few hollow, dimwitted-sounding laughs in what she hoped was a useful contribution.

Gu Tingye’s steady gaze swept over the Shi couple. They both immediately felt a cold bead of sweat on their foreheads. He said nothing — just walked in unhurriedly, hands clasped behind his back, and said in a low voice, “Things are settled outside. Get going. I’ll say a couple of words and be right there.”

The Shi couple seemed to hold Gu Tingye in no small degree of awe. The moment he said this, they took their hasty leave of Minglan and made for the door. The room was left to an awkward Minglan and her very bearded Second Uncle.

Gu Tingye found a chair near the door and sat with unhurried composure, a full ten paces from Minglan at the far end. He looked down at her and issued a directive: “Sit.”

Minglan immediately sat up straight and obedient, awaiting further instructions.

Gu Tingye’s tone was perfectly agreeable, unhurried: “Two things. First — what happened tonight, your falling into the water — no word of this will reach anyone outside. Settle it with your own servants when you return. Everyone else who saw you — I will handle.”

Minglan looked up sharply, her eyes bright with unguarded joy. The corners of her mouth opened into a gentle flush of soft pink, and against the white of her skin, two small dimples appeared — sweet as summer locust-blossom candy. Gu Tingye’s lips tilted slightly at the corner — hidden completely by the thick beard, visible to no one. He continued: “…Second — do not mention me to anyone. Simply say the canal brotherhood came in force to rescue everyone.”

Minglan nodded repeatedly. However glowingly Shi Keng might speak of Gu Tingye’s reputation in the river world, the river world was the river world. In the eyes of court officials and the nobility, those who made their livings in the streets and docklands were nothing more than the lowest rungs of society — either muscle-for-hire keeping guard for the powerful, or foot soldiers in someone’s shadow forces, used for fighting and bloodshed.

A Marquis’s son becoming the head of a river brotherhood was not something to be proud of. Even if Chen Jialuo of the Red Flower Society was as impressive and celebrated in the rivers and lakes as any hero could be, to the Haining Chen family — generations of nobility and prestige — he was nothing but a wastrel son who had not fulfilled himself, and moreover had been pig-headed enough to join a rebellion. The family would prefer not to mention him at all.

“Second Uncle, rest assured!” Minglan immediately pledged her word, stopping just short of beating her chest. “Except for calling your name once on the small boat, I have not so much as mentioned you since — no one will find out.”

Gu Tingye gave a satisfied nod.

Then a silence fell over the room. Minglan looked at Gu Tingye sitting there without moving, unsure what to say, and could only stare blankly at the oil lamp beside her — a single bean-sized flame, faintly yellowish, the very tip of the flame edged in pale blue, like the furrowed brow-tip of a young girl. At that moment, Gu Tingye suddenly spoke, abruptly, with only half a sentence: “…Why understandable?”

Strangely, Minglan seemed to have known all along that he would not be able to stop himself from asking this. He was still himself — whether the fashionable, carefree young noble of the capital, or the fallen wanderer of the rivers and lakes, he still had that same relentless, deep-digging manner she had seen at the Xiangyanghou Mansion.

Minglan had a whole stomach full of carefully prepared answers ready — ones designed to leave anyone who heard them feeling comfortable and at ease. She had just opened her mouth when Gu Tingye got there first, adding lightly: “If you still have any regard for the few good things I may have done for you — tell me the truth. I’ve heard polished, empty talk for twenty years.”

Beneath the heavy mask of beard, his face was as grave as a deep night river. His eyes shifted slightly to the side, carrying, inexplicably, a trace of desolate shadow.

Minglan swallowed the breath she’d drawn. The prepared speech was derailed. She fidgeted with difficulty at the embroidered border of her sleeve, working it back and forth. From Gu Tingye’s angle, only a slim section of her white neck was visible — smooth and pale as a fresh lotus root, and in the dim lamplight, the skin was nearly translucent, faint blue veins threading soft and delicate beneath the surface.

The girl suddenly spoke. Her voice was oddly clear and cool: “Second Uncle, when you sincerely sought to marry Elder Miss Yu time and again — what was your reason? It’s not as though there were no other gentlewomen in the capital.”

Gu Tingye paused, not having expected this. Before he could answer, Minglan was already saying it herself: “It was because Elder Miss Yu was always gentle and compliant, modest and restrained, willing in all things to put her family first. A wife like that would surely tolerate Man Niang, and treat secondary children and legitimate children with care.” — And more besides: Elder Mrs. Yu is a stepmother, and might not fight wholeheartedly for a stepdaughter’s interests.

Hearing Minglan calmly lay bare his reasoning in seeking that match, Gu Tingye fell silent. Minglan tilted her head slightly upward. “Women are trapped within the inner quarters’ small plot of land, spending every day turning these things over. Even I understand this logic — let alone anyone else.” Minglan gave a soft laugh. “And in that case — if any family with a genuine wish for their daughter’s well-being truly understood your character and was still eager and overjoyed to marry their daughter to you, one would actually have to wonder whether they had ulterior motives.”

Minglan’s words came to the point and stopped there. Gu Tingye knew all too well — he had a past reputation for debauchery to his name, and after that, the infamy of disrespecting elders and acting without moral integrity. And yet he still hoped to find a tolerant wife who would accept a mistress and secondary children — on what grounds? Those who truly wished their daughters well would not want him; those who did want him had nothing to offer beyond his family name and his social standing — and that was nothing to boast of either.

Minglan looked at Gu Tingye’s darkened face, hesitated for a moment, and said softly, “Forgive this overstepping, Second Uncle — but why don’t you simply marry Man Niang? After all those years between you, and there are children.”

Gu Tingye gave a low derisive sound. “The Sheng household’s teaching is truly admirable — to produce such a benevolent and generous daughter.”

Minglan could hear the sarcasm, but she kept her expression honest. “Setting aside whatever Man Niang may have done before — she has been genuinely devoted to Second Uncle. Not after money, not after power — only after you as a person. That is already better than many.”

Gu Tingye said with a short, rueful laugh: “You change your tune quickly.” Minglan said plainly: “Before, Second Uncle had the Ningyang Marquis household behind him, and so you were obliged to follow the Marquis household’s rules. But now everything Second Uncle has was earned by yourself. You are free to marry the woman you care for — why would you still allow yourself to be constrained by others?”

Gu Tingye’s expression was cold and firm. He gave that slow shake of his head again. Minglan studied him with an interested eye, and a thread of irony floated up inside her.

This man — on the surface as brash and defiant as anyone could be, the most recklessly irreverent person in all the capital — and yet deep in his bones, he was still a prince of the blood. That pride and nobility born into him from birth had long since been engraved into his very veins. A woman of base origins and stage background — he was willing to cherish her, willing to keep her — and yet he still would not entrust her with the household’s affairs. He still wanted to marry a well-matched, cultivated young lady; find a graceful and refined wife who could understand what mattered, who could complement her husband’s life and manage a household, who could be presented with confidence to the world.

Minglan felt quietly amused. She said lightly: “Second Uncle — for all that you appear to be all bone-deep rebellion, utterly contemptuous of worldly convention — at your very core, you are in fact the most conventional of all.” — He, at least, had always kept a clear head. Unlike some other young lords who, once bewitched, forgot everything and cared for nothing.

Gu Tingye raised his eyes. He saw the irony faintly present in Minglan’s gaze. He narrowed his eyes slightly — and before Minglan could say another word, he raised a hand in a clean, decisive gesture, stopping her from continuing. He said directly: “No need to go on. Man Niang’s nature has already turned corrupt.”

In a flash of lightning, Minglan’s mind lit up. She blurted out before she could stop herself: “Could it be that the second Miss Yu’s death had something to do with her?”

The moment the words were out, she instantly regretted them. She clapped her hands over her own mouth in a panic. Working around courts of law does something to a person — one is always looking for inconsistencies and loose threads in what people say; and whenever one finds them, one blurts the conclusion out. How could she speak carelessly about other people’s dark secrets.

Gu Tingye’s voice was as cold as the river water Minglan had just been submerged in — cold enough to freeze through every limb. His gaze bore down on her with stern authority, and he said word by precise word: “Keep on in this fashion, without any regard for your own safety, and sooner or later you will be the death of yourself.”

Minglan bowed her head and said in a subdued voice, “I’m sorry.”

Gu Tingye rose and turned, walking straight toward the door. At the threshold he stopped, turned back, and looked at Minglan.

“I will offer you one in return.” Gu Tingye’s voice carried a note of teasing, his smile cold. “Every move you make appears utterly proper and well-behaved — and yet deep down you hold it all in silent contempt. On ordinary days you can act the part convincingly, but the moment something unexpected happens, you give yourself away immediately. My only hope is that you can keep up the act for a lifetime — and that no one unmasks you.”

He said this, turned on his heel, and was gone in several long strides.

The half-open door let in a draft of icy passing wind. Outside, the night sky had begun to thin, and the light was slowly shifting toward a cold blue. At the edge of the water, a faint sliver of pale red glimmered on the horizon, blending into the dark and muted clouds — a mottled wash of soft, uncertain color.

Minglan stood where she was, silent for a long time.

She had always known she had this fatal flaw. She had grown up in a simple and quiet way, timid by nature and inclined to peace, and yet buried deep in her chest was a small stubborn ember of hot blood — the kind that wanted, just once, to do something brave, to stand up for someone and play the hero.

So she had gone far out of her way to go to those frontier towns. So she had meddled in other people’s affairs, the way a dog goes after a mouse, to help Yan Ran. So she had stayed behind on the ship to deal with the aftermath, taking on one act of reckless, half-baked stupidity after another.

Her father Yao had once said, protectively, to comfort his daughter: a life without mistakes is not a real life; memories without regret have no particular meaning. In a long life, doing a few harmless foolish things according to one’s own impulses is actually quite meaningful.

Minglan slumped and looked down, despondent. Papa — she had already gone and died in the line of doing good. Could that really still count as a small foolish thing? Next time — who even knew what next time might bring. Better to reform all of it.