The entire capital was on edge.

Everyone waited a day — nothing. Waited two days — nothing. By the third day, they could barely hold on any longer.

Life still had to go on! Who could stand living in constant dread like this? Whatever would be would be — at worst, they’d just keep taking their lumps.

Only the old couple at Zhù Ying’s home remained cheerful. By the seventh month, Cao Chang had worried himself into exhaustion; he fell back into his daily routine of following Zhù Ying to morning muster and picking her up again in the evening. Her cousin Gan Ze had become a father and threw himself into work with even greater vigor, drilling him daily outside the imperial city walls.

Gan Ze was different from Cao Chang. Gan Ze had been born a servant of a great house — the sort of man who actually fared better without someone like Wang Yunhe around. He was not in the habit of bullying people without cause, and his outlook differed somewhat from that of ordinary capital commoners. He remarked casually: “A fine official like Lord Wang ought to have been promoted long ago!”

Cao Chang, remembering that his cousin served under Zheng Xi, had no talent for beating around the bush and asked directly: “Brother, what kind of man will the new Metropolitan Governor be?”

Gan Ze said, “How should I know?”

And not only did Gan Ze not know — even Zheng Xi did not know! The position of Metropolitan Governor had fallen vacant, and the Emperor had gone several days without announcing a new candidate. Meanwhile, Wang Yunhe had already moved out of the Metropolitan Governor’s Residence and was staying temporarily at Liu Songnian’s estate; all the rituals for his elevation to Chief Minister had been conducted there.

Now Wang Yunhe had even begun taking turns on the overnight duty roster with Chen Luan and Shi Kun for the palace vigil, yet no new Metropolitan Governor had been named. For the time being, the Deputy Governor was minding the Residence, keeping things running with the existing staff.

The minor officials speculated for a few days, then gave up. Talking about it was merely something to chew on and pass the time; the vast majority of them had no way of guessing what those above were thinking anyway. Once their own work piled up, they put the whole matter out of their minds.

Zhù Ying had never tried to guess in the first place. What she needed to guard against now was the possibility of Zheng Xi’s political rival — the Duan family. From the moment Wang Yunhe became Chief Minister, she had set about reorganizing the Court of Judicial Review.

Good management alone was not enough; she had to lay a few hooks as well. With that in mind, she specifically sought out Zheng Xi, wanting a list — or rather, a few names.

She brought Cao Chang along to the Zheng household. Cao Chang was on friendly terms with several of the Zheng servants and stayed outside tending the horses and chatting. Zhù Ying, at ease, entered Zheng Xi’s study. She walked in with her hand already extended: “My lord, hand it over!”

Zheng Xi said, “What do you want?”

Zhù Ying let out a long sigh. “Duan Ying has arrived in the capital, and with quite a formidable reputation. Word has it he has some old grudge with you?”

Zheng Xi gave a contemptuous snort. “A callow, milk-smelling little brat.”

“Watch out — he may well take first place next year! They say his talent is extraordinary and he puts in the work.”

Duan Ying was exceptional in every way. Come spring of the following year when the examinations were held, there was no question he would not need to sit the law examination the way Zhù Ying had — he would be sitting the jinshi examination. And then he would be famous not merely in the capital, but throughout the realm as the brilliant young talent of the age.

Zheng Xi looked at Zhù Ying with great regret, though his lips curled in disdain: “He is nothing more than someone who, unlike you, had food and clothing from childhood and could devote himself to study in peace.”

Zhù Ying said, “Why does that sentence sound so peculiar? Never mind that — give me a few names.”

“Oh? Planning to fabricate a case? Or are you looking to grab someone by the tail? If it’s too obvious, it won’t look good.”

Zhù Ying smiled and said, “Are there any close friends of the Duan family? Or relatives within the five degrees of mourning, or the three clans, who are currently in the capital? Why would I want to make the first move?”

Zheng Xi pulled open a drawer and produced a sheet of paper, asking: “And then what? Some scheme you’ve been cooking up? Read it here.”

“What a fine person I am!” Zhù Ying protested as she memorized the contents. The paper had only five or six names with brief biographies. The Duan family’s connections by marriage surely ran to more than this, but since Zheng Xi offered nothing further, she did not feel right asking for more.

When she had finished, she took her leave.

She went home to work the accounts. Naturally she would help Zheng Xi — but she was not like Jin Liang. Jin Liang had become an official yet remained a devoted retainer; she was not. She would look after herself first. Everything that had passed through her hands during her years at the Court of Judicial Review was traceable, piece by piece. When it came to her official duties at the Court, finding fault with her was all but impossible. If it truly came to the worst, she could always burn the archives and let them try to find something then!

But over the past two years she had been operating on a rather large scale, handling substantial sums of money — though she had also earned considerable benefits for her colleagues. Much of it involved financial dealings, and she still needed to net Zheng Xi a bit more. The accounts were not what she feared; the problem was her continuing ties to merchants on the outside.

She needed to make further arrangements, ensuring that anyone who tried to stir up trouble using her accounts would inevitably drag in several of the Duan family’s friends and relatives. If the Duan family did not come looking for trouble, then this particular card would simply stay unplayed.

She was holding a knife and waiting for someone to run onto it. So Zheng Xi waited and waited for her to make a move, and she never did. He was inwardly puzzled but too proud to ask.

It was in the midst of Zheng Xi’s bewilderment that the Qixi Festival arrived.

* * *

On the day of Qixi, Zhang Xiangu, Huajie, and Du Dajie set up an incense altar in the rear courtyard. The courtyard was quite spacious, and they were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Zhù Ying stood nearby with her arms folded, watching; Huajie tried to pull her over to bow, and Zhang Xiangu watched her with some expectation. But Zhù Ying kept waving them off: “What ‘skill’ do I need? Am I not capable enough already?”

Huajie said, “That’s true!”

Du Dajie said, “Sanlang shouldn’t be worshipping the Weaving Maid anyway.”

Zhang Xiangu’s words caught in her throat and she swallowed them back.

Zhù Ying said, “You all carry on. I’m going to read.”

She still lived in the front courtyard. She lowered the gauze curtain over the window, lit the lamp, and slowly turned the pages of the ledger. She could not guarantee her accounts were “flawless” — when auditing accounts, “flawless” was itself a red flag; what genuine “no problems” meant was that every irregularity had an ordinary explanation, or a reasonable resolution. That was what she was working on now.

She was cautious, and she felt this Duan family was no simple matter. Twenty years had passed, and many things from back then were now hard to ascertain clearly — but some things, if you wanted to look into them now, could still yield a glimpse here and there. Such as old archived records. Every bureau and department periodically rotated and discarded outdated files. Documents that were not classified were fairly accessible to determined people with the right connections.

Regarding that old incident — why had someone like Zheng Xi been forced to throw propriety aside? Any minor clerk could answer that question halfway — A matter to be settled within seven days. If they wanted to give you trouble, they would sign off on it on the afternoon of the seventh day. Were you happy? Were you surprised? Not a day past the deadline! But try using that document to complete the next step in the procedure — by then it was already dark, everyone had gone home, and you’d have to come back the next day.

That was why, even though the Metropolitan Governor’s Office had occasionally had small frictions with Zhù Ying, the whole staff from top to bottom ended up liking her — because at her office, “within seven days” often meant the matter was finished the same day, or at most by the next day or the day after. When it was genuinely difficult, she would let the other party know early so they could prepare in advance.

The Duan family had played that stalling game. To someone not quite in the know, it would look as if the two families just weren’t on particularly close terms — not an outright knife in the back. But in reality, relief troops were like a fire to be fought. A battle that could have been won cleanly with no casualties had been turned into a costly victory. Yes, both sides won — but you paid a steep price. Coming back from that, your voice would carry less weight.

A family capable of that sort of thing was, at the very least, not stupid. She had to watch herself around them.

Then she turned up a property deed for a shop. Zhù Ying flicked it lightly: “Your turn!”

Having no new Governor was, for Zhù Ying, something of a convenience — it meant that the Metropolitan Governor’s Office was still full of people she knew, and they were all still on good terms. Getting the deed registered had gone smoothly. Tomorrow she would record it in the Court of Judicial Review’s public accounts, which would show that even while building her own house, she had not forgotten the public interest. The rental income from a shop was higher than from a residence; using those funds to pay the staff their fodder allowances would also save some of her own household expenses. A good deal!

Huajie and Du Dajie’s laughter drifted faintly from the back courtyard, hard to make out clearly. Zhù Ying went out to the front corridor and looked down from above: Zhang Xiangu was standing beneath the grapevine trellis, leaning against a pillar, watching. The trellis was up but the grapevines had not yet grown in — it stood bare-boned and empty.

Du Dajie looked up, spotted her, and pointed; both Zhang Xiangu and Huajie looked over. It was already dark and they could not see her clearly, but all of them waved. Zhang Xiangu waved at her too.

Zhù Ying smiled, slipped back into the study, and went on attending to her affairs. The public property to be formally entered into the Court’s accounts tomorrow — that was handled. But what about the wedding gift she had been readying for Zheng Xi? What was she to do with it now?! The gift was ready, but where was Zheng Xi’s bride?! She could hardly let the gift just sit there gathering dust. It had already been sitting with her for several months — if she let it drag on any longer, would it grow mold?

Paying respects to one’s superior: once a gift was ready, the superior would not make a show of refusing it — and yet right now she simply could not send it! Zhù Ying had no choice but to lock it away.

The next day, she first had the shop assigned to the Court’s accounts, entered into the ledger, and had Zheng Xi sign off on it. Zheng Xi smiled: “You’re still finding time for this? Got another one?”

Zhù Ying said, “Finding time or not, the thing is here.”

Zheng Xi signed his name with great satisfaction, then mentioned, as if in passing: “The year is past its midpoint — draft a memorial for me.”

“Hmm?”

Zheng Xi said, “What’s ‘hmm’? It’s not as if you’ve never submitted a memorial! You even dared talk nonsense about adding a women’s block — and now you won’t write a routine half-year report on the Court’s affairs?”

“I — me?”

Zhù Ying was rather taken aback. What Zheng Xi meant was for her to submit certain matters in her own name. Put plainly, he wanted her to keep a visible presence — to formally take on certain administrative tasks at the Court in her own name. Previously he had been having her send documents to the Secretariat. Now he was having her submit memorials in her own name, deliberately and deliberately making her name familiar to the Emperor’s eyes.

This was an excellent arrangement.

“Hmm?”

“Yes!” Zhù Ying answered with delight.

Even a country landlord tallied his accounts every half-year; the Emperor was just a bigger landlord…

Zhù Ying always knew how to make him pleased. Zheng Xi shook his head with a smile. Moving some affairs onto Zhù Ying’s shoulders was also because he had a major matter to attend to in the near future — his in-laws’ family had arrived in the capital.

Zheng Xi was seeking remarriage, naturally because the young woman had come out of mourning. Her coming out of mourning meant her brothers had come out of mourning as well, and the whole family had moved back to the capital from their hometown — first to find the sons official posts, and second to arrange the daughter’s marriage.

The Yue family wished to secure an official post for the son first — not difficult. The elder son was already married and had been serving before the mourning period began; his rank was established. Coming back, he simply needed to report to the Ministry of Personnel and wait for them to find a vacancy appropriate to his rank.

Their late grandfather had had many students. Besides his most famous one, Liu Songnian, others had also risen to official positions in the capital. For the grandson to quickly be assigned a suitable post required no particular string-pulling; people would naturally speak up on his behalf and help things along.

In this way, the elder brother would himself be an official when he gave his sister away in marriage, which would add some prestige to the wedding ceremony.

As it happened, not a single door needed to be knocked on — the Yue family’s residence was right next door to Liu Songnian’s. As for Liu Songnian, back in the day, their grandfather had helped fund half of that house for him. Liu Songnian had since earned imperial favor and been offered a new residence by the Emperor, but he had declined and stayed on next to his old teacher’s family.

Liu Songnian’s household currently also sheltered Wang Yunhe.

Everything proceeded smoothly. Wang Yunhe learned that there was such a person next door, glanced at the Ministry of Personnel’s list of candidates awaiting appointment, considered a moment, and placed the young man at the Imperial Academy. This was a perfectly sensible arrangement: the grandson of Liu Songnian’s teacher, coming from a scholarly family with a fine tradition, sent as a young man to serve as a University Erudite at the Imperial Academy — entirely appropriate!

The University Erudite at the Imperial Academy was a rank of upper sixth grade — which might not sound particularly elevated, but it sat just below the fifth-rank threshold, and the students were the sons of officials of fifth rank and above.

From any angle, this was an eminently suitable appointment.

With the brother-in-law’s new post settled, the Zheng household began discussing the wedding arrangements with the Yue family. Naturally Zheng Xi would delegate part of his affairs to trusted hands so he could free up time to attend to this great event in his life.

Liu Songnian was still not reconciled and, taking advantage of Yue Huan’s departure for the Imperial Academy, rushed to the Yue family to have one last serious talk with the mistress and her daughter.

“Don’t listen to what Da-lang says about honoring his father’s wishes! You need only not want this, and I will back you up! What does it matter that he’s President of the Court of Judicial Review? What does it matter that he’s the son of a Commandery Princess?”

The Yue matriarch listened and said, “But we think it quite acceptable.” In the matriarch’s view, her husband had shown excellent judgment: a ready-made third-rank President of the Court of Judicial Review as a son-in-law, the man himself upright, his household unchaotic — very good.

Liu Songnian said, “Setting aside that he already has two children — there’s the matter of the present business…” He hesitated, then mentioned that Duan Ying was also in the capital.

The Yue matriarch frowned slightly: “The Duan family’s conduct back then was indeed dishonorable.”

Yue Miaojun said, “Uncle understands fully what my feelings are — I won’t resort to pleasantries about late father’s wishes. What uncle worries about is simply that this particular gentleman is cold of heart. But uncle — tell me, how many men in this world are not cold of heart? Even those who are utterly devoted to friends and brothers, who share life and death, who keep every promise — can they be that same way toward wife and children? That kind of loyalty and devotion — how many of them, in the end, were not won at the cost of abandoning wife and children?”

Liu Songnian opened his mouth; Yue Miaojun went on: “Uncle, we can certainly say we’ll find a man who is devoted to us.”

“Exactly.”

Yue Miaojun said, “And what then — mutual respect and courtesy? I think mutual respect and courtesy is about all one can expect anyway.”

“Er…” Liu Songnian said quietly, “At the very least there ought to be someone who understands you.”

Yue Miaojun sighed: “Uncle, we all know. Setting aside rank and title, he is still a suitable man. As for his children — if I have good fortune, I will have fine children of my own; if I have none, even a child born of my own body can make one’s later years miserable. If everyone can truly maintain civility and courtesy, that would actually be quite good. In past years, I used to think Zhou You was a man of talent and excellence…”

“Don’t mention that useless wretch!” Liu Songnian leapt to his feet.

Yue Miaojun said, “You see? Our present candidate is already the very best. “

“Then you won’t have a peaceful life!”

Yue Miaojun said, “My brother has already made inquiries. The Duan family — what family doesn’t have a few connections and a few enemies? It’s not that I’m being married off by my father and simply accepting my fate; it’s truly that if one chose a different man, would his household have no troubles of its own? It all comes down to bearing things together. What happy life is there where you enjoy the wealth but bear none of the worries?”

The Yue matriarch said with tender feeling: “Such a young woman, and she speaks as if she has already seen through everything.”

Yue Miaojun smiled: “What is there to see through? In the temples and shrines we frequent, do they not keep accounts? Do they not collect rent? Do they not use every means to attract worshippers? The human world is the mortal realm; when has there ever been the empty gateway that people imagine?”

Liu Songnian heaved a sigh: “If you’ve made up your mind, so be it. If you ever need anything in the future, just come to your uncle!”

Yue Miaojun said, “I understand.”

* * *

While Yue Miaojun had already made her decision to stand by Zheng Xi through whatever came, Zheng Xi on his side had his own affairs well in hand and had no expectation that his new wife would help him with external matters.

At the Court of Judicial Review, Zheng Xi asked Zhù Ying to draft a summary memorial of the Court’s affairs for the first half of the year to be submitted above. Zhù Ying knew that if the President was unable to attend to business, the Vice President would step up, and below him were the Associate Justices. If she was going to insert herself further, she needed to produce something tangible.

Such as the new shop. On the day the new shop was announced to the public ledger, Zhù Ying immediately announced to everyone that the rent from this property would continue to be used as it had been — to subsidize everyone’s carriage and fodder expenses. Those without carriages would receive a carriage allowance; those with carriages would receive fodder money.

Whether you liked her or not, you had to admit she was capable — and you would want to protect her, not want anything bad to happen to her, not want her to leave. Who wouldn’t like someone who brought benefits to everyone around them?

Designating Zhù Ying to handle the Court of Judicial Review’s affairs was precisely Zheng Xi’s arrangement for the Court.

Outside the Court, after the Qixi Festival came the fifteenth — the day Taoists celebrated the Ghost Festival and Buddhists observed the Ullambana. The city was unusually lively.

The palace also regularly observed festivals. On the Ghost Festival, the elderly Dowager Consort of Prince Gaoyang came during the day to visit the Empress Dowager, saying she would celebrate the evening at home and had come to pay her respects during the day.

The two old sisters-in-law chatted, and naturally the conversation turned to their children. The Dowager Consort said with delight: “My Seventh Son is finally going to remarry!”

The Empress Dowager was quite pleased as well — Zheng Xi’s mother and the Empress Dowager’s son had been born on the same year, month, and day, which had always given the Empress Dowager a somewhat special feeling toward him. The Empress Dowager asked: “Which fine young woman?”

“The Yue family.”

“That Yue family?”

“Yes, that Yue family.”

The Empress Dowager smiled warmly: “That is wonderful news! A child starting a family is always a blessed thing.”

The Dowager Consort suddenly thought of something: “Oh my — our Fifth Princess must be of marriageable age now, mustn’t she?”

The Fifth Princess she mentioned was a daughter the Emperor was very fond of. The Emperor had nine daughters, but only five had survived to come of age and be assigned a number; this was the youngest and most beloved — and still unmarried. If she were married off as an imperial princess, the future son-in-law would certainly be gaining a great prize!

What Zheng Xi wanted was nothing else — simply that Duan Ying not marry this princess. Duan Ying might not have any such ambitions, but if in the coming spring examination he truly won first place, things would become awkward. Zheng Xi was not personally afraid of this princess — but the people under him would be like shrimp before her; they could be beaten in the street with nowhere to complain.

Whether or not there was any struggle ahead, he needed the Emperor and the Crown Prince’s household to stay out of it. The Emperor was old; the Crown Prince was still young, and there were many future matters to navigate. It was best to secure a meek, steady son-in-law for the Fifth Princess early, someone who would not get tangled up in what was coming. This arrangement was not entirely aimed at the still-hypothetical “Duan family counterattack.”

What harm could come from two old sisters-in-law having a chat?

The Empress Dowager quickly raised the matter with the Emperor. The Fifth Princess had lost her birth mother early — she died in the bloom of youth — and the Emperor and Empress Dowager had raised the girl themselves. They were deeply concerned about her welfare.

The Emperor, hearing his mother’s words, said: “Sometimes I think of keeping her by my side a few more years, afraid she’ll be unhappy after marrying down. Other times I wish she could marry sooner, and only when I see her settled will my heart be at ease.”

The Empress Dowager said, “Who doesn’t feel exactly the same? Even for that clever little creature, Seventh Son — his grandmother still thinks about there being no one to care whether he’s warm or cold.”

The Emperor asked, “And who is it he is to marry?”

“The Yue family’s daughter.”

The Emperor laughed aloud. The Empress Dowager asked, “What is it?”

“Liu Songnian doesn’t like him.”

The Empress Dowager laughed too: “Liu Songnian just likes people with prickly temperaments.”

“He also likes Wang Yunhe.”

“Lord Wang’s temper isn’t particularly good either,” the Empress Dowager said, then added, “though he is a decent man.”

From this point on, the Emperor took notice and was determined to find a fine young talent for his daughter. For this kind of thing, asking trusted ministers, the eunuchs in attendance, and his own brothers was best. All three Chief Ministers quite honestly told him that among the young men of recent times there were some worthy candidates, but by all accounts Duan Ying was the most outstanding. The eunuch Luo Yuan also said that from what he had heard, the young gentleman was a handsome young man.

When he asked Lan Xing, Lan Xing also mentioned Duan Ying, but added: “Just arrived in the capital a few months ago, and his reputation is already spreading far and wide — isn’t that a bit fast?”

The Emperor hesitated — was that suggesting Duan Ying was calculating?

He asked Zhong Yi and the others; they too said he was a very talented young man. Zhong Yi and his colleagues were also men who had rendered service in their time, bearing a slight past connection with both the Duan and Zheng families — a little with each, not much of either. Zhong Yi hesitated a moment and said: “There may be some minor friction with Zheng Xi, but nothing serious. Neither of them should be the sort to let personal grudges interfere with affairs of state.”

Prince Gaoyang was very direct; he looked at the Emperor in astonishment and fired back: “You’re asking me? Ha! Seventh Son once did to his family…How could I possibly have anything good to say? Though the young man does look rather handsome, I’ll grant him that.”

The Emperor thought: if the man truly proves to be outstanding, I’ll step in and reconcile the two families. Twenty years have passed — this can’t go on forever.

He was old and always wanted things to pass smoothly and with grace. He wished now only to give his beloved daughter a good husband-in-law — not a man of overwhelming heroic greatness, merely one who could make his daughter happy.

General Ye, as if reading the Emperor’s mind, counseled him during a night watch: “Why not see him in person?”

The Emperor hesitated for only a moment before agreeing to summon the young man. General Ye cautioned: “He holds no official post — a formal audience might not be appropriate. And when a young man is called for an audience, he will certainly have prepared himself. Better to observe him unawares, when he is not putting on a performance.”

“Arrange it.”

General Ye quite naturally arranged for the Emperor to change into plain clothes, then personally escorted him with guards to a teahouse on a riverside street in the city. They settled in: “Shortly they will be floating on the river composing poetry — we can watch from here, and he will certainly not know.”

The Emperor looked around with interest. Not only were scholars gathered to watch, but there were also quite a few women. It had quite the feeling of a whole city turning out to watch — not too hot and not too cold, the weather just right — almost like the scent of someone throwing fruit from a window.

Then he looked at Duan Ying — a young man of rather striking appearance!

The onlookers were all praising him; only the envious scholars were making sour remarks.

However much you admire or envy him — this young man will be mine. The Emperor thought.

Just as the Emperor was privately making up his mind, from somewhere came a voice: “Duan family’s romantic soul?”

The Emperor’s heart gave a jolt. No father wanted to marry his daughter to a romantic soul. Duan Ying was not Duan Hong — but who could say for certain?

He looked around: many young women were gazing at Duan Ying with shy and reticent glances. And pleasure boats were drifting past, the women aboard tossing sachets and similar objects toward him; Duan Ying very courteously nodded his head repeatedly in acknowledgment, drawing giggling laughter from the women.

The Emperor grew displeased and struck Duan Ying from the list.

In the world of letters at that time, there were two ways to make a name for oneself: one was to receive the praise of an eminent figure, such as Liu Songnian or Wang Yunhe; the other was to have singing girls perform and spread your verses. This was a faster means of wide circulation, and a singing girl obtaining a famous poet’s composition was something that elevated her own name and price as well. A mutual benefit.

Duan Ying was no exception. He needed to court, from above, the admiring eye of Liu Songnian; from below, the following of celebrated courtesans.

The Emperor saw General Ye still watching Duan Ying and said, “Never seen a talented young man before? Let’s go.”

General Ye stroked his chin and said, “Yes.”

* * *

Zhù Ying had no idea that Zheng Xi could have such an arrangement. She ran into a small trouble of her own — Zhù Da was injured.

It was not Zhù Da’s fault.

After moving to the new house, he had initially wandered around the place. The house was large, and the novelty had been more than enough at first. After a while, though, there was nothing new left to it. Cao Chang was a hard-working, dependable young man who busied himself all day caring for three animals, sweeping the main courtyard, tidying the gatehouse, and even hauling two large vats to the inner gate and filling them with water for Du Dajie — handy when she needed water for laundry or watering flowers.

He could not spend all his time playing with Zhù Da either.

When Zhù Da had nothing to do, he would ride his mule and wander freely through the capital.

He did not spend money — he just looked. Occasionally, when the mood struck, he might spend a few coins on some small trinket. Coming home, if Zhang Xiangu was in good spirits she would not scold him; if she was not, she would give him a scolding. Sometimes he bought something genuinely useful, and when the family praised him, he would show off in front of Zhang Xiangu. Their quiet days went along pleasantly enough.

Today, however, the wandering brought trouble.

He was on his mule peering at a roadside stall when, without warning, a troop of riders came charging through. They startled his mule. The mule was bred for pulling carts; having him ride it was never ideal. Startled, the mule threw him to the ground! Passersby helped him up, but he had wrenched his back and twisted his ankle. The mule had bolted too; injured and unhorsed, he had to beg people to retrieve the mule and bring himself home along with it. Seeing his decent clothes, there were those willing enough to do it. Zhang Xiangu thanked them profusely and took him in, giving the helpers some money in gratitude.

Huajie examined his ankle and said, “The tendon is strained — fortunately no bones are broken. Let’s put some plasters on first. But what happened exactly?”

Zhù Da gnashed his teeth: “Something about some princess…”

Huajie said, “You must not speak that way.”

When Zhù Ying came home and learned what had happened, she said: “Things like this will keep happening. The world is not what it once was. Today’s rider was Princess An’ren — the Emperor’s sister — not someone who can be spoken of carelessly.”

Zhang Xiangu said, “But how could this be? Isn’t there someone…”

Ah — the Emperor had elevated Governor Wang of the capital to Chief Minister, and now people were running wild through the city.

Before Zhù Ying came to the capital, Wang Yunhe had been managing it, so the city had been perfectly orderly. The only real troubles she had encountered were what Zhou You and the young Lord Shi had gotten her thrown into jail for. Since then, not only she, but the capital’s ordinary residents had also found their lives growing more and more settled with each passing year.

For someone like Zhù Ying who had come to the capital only six or seven years ago, the new reality was a sudden revelation: so the capital had this many aristocrats and powerful families! In earlier days they had seemed to exist, but their presence had never felt this overwhelming!

Now the sons of princes and nobles were everywhere showing off in the streets.

Zhù Da muttered a curse under his breath, then grumbled: “Well, at least the mule came back.”

Zhù Ying said, “From now on, if anything happens, worry about people first — never mind the animals.”

Zhang Xiangu said, “Why hasn’t a new Metropolitan Governor been appointed yet?”

Zhù Ying thought: How would I know?

* * *

The Emperor seemed not to notice that he was short a Metropolitan Governor and continued to make no appointment, even after Wang Yunhe had moved into his new residence — now properly to be called “the Lord Chief Minister Wang’s residence” — while the Metropolitan Governor’s post remained unoccupied.

Wang Yunhe moved into his new home, and Zhù Ying duly came to celebrate the housewarming as promised. Wang’s household servants all recognized her and smiled: “Sanlang is here?”

Zhù Ying smiled too: “I am.”

She had Cao Chang carry the gifts inside. Her housewarming gift for Wang Yunhe was nothing extravagant — a standard moving-in present — but one item was something she had made with her own hands. Wang Yunhe saw it and was delighted, asking: “Where did you buy this?”

It was a wooden carving of an elephant bearing a vase — a symbol of peace and plenty — the vase carved slender and elegant. Zhù Ying laughed: “It seems my craftsmanship is good enough! Perhaps I could set up a market stall to make a living someday.”

Wang Yunhe said, “Now you’re talking nonsense again!” He then sighed. He was aware of what had been going on in the capital streets, but it was no longer within his purview; what he could do was advise the Emperor to appoint a new Metropolitan Governor as soon as possible — anyone would do, better to have someone than no one.

On such an auspicious day, he did not raise this with Zhù Ying but instead invited her to share a meal with his students currently in the capital, instructing: “Do not let Sanlang drink wine.”

Zhù Ying obligingly sat there drinking tea and eating dishes, exchanging a few words with everyone — perfectly well-behaved. The people around her were rather curious about her. The officials who could sit at this table were, in their way, all fine men — men of sound scholarship, decent background, genuine ability, and some backbone. They were an entirely different sort from the minor officials and clerks Zhù Ying had previously dealt with the most.

Rumor about Zhù Ying in the capital was limited. What circulated most was the name “Grand Manager of the Court of Judicial Review” — spoken with a faintly teasing tone by those who had never dealt with her, putting her in the same category as Lan Xing and Luo Yuan: not without ability, but perhaps with somewhat soft bones.

Seeing her in person, however, she struck them as composed and courteous — not much like a “petty schemer,” and certainly not the kind of flatterer who could have bewitched Lord Wang.

After one look, everyone stopped paying her much attention and went back to chatting and joking with the people they knew. Even among Wang Yunhe’s students, there was at this moment more than a little air of celebration and self-congratulation. Not everyone was filled with solemn reverence.

Zhù Ying had no need of their attention. She quietly blended in and ate her way through the banquet.

At that moment she felt again a faint echo of the feeling she’d had that Duanwu Festival at Zheng Xi’s house years ago — but she did not say so.

After the housewarming, Wang Yunhe was busy grappling with state affairs and had little time to spare; Zhù Ying herself also had a great deal to attend to. The two of them had far less contact than before. And still no new Metropolitan Governor appeared.

By the eighth month, Zheng Xi and the Yue family’s engagement was formally concluded!

The wedding date was set for the tenth month. That would give the new bride enough time to become familiar with her new home before the New Year when visits would need to be made.

The moment Zhù Ying learned the news, she sent the wedding gift she had long since prepared to Zheng Xi’s hands. Three shop properties had sat with her for over a month waiting to be given — this simply would not do!

When she delivered the deeds to the Zheng household, Zheng Xi seemed to be in good spirits, and asked with a smile: “What’s this?”

“The household is gaining a new member — surely you need more property?” said Zhù Ying.

Zheng Xi opened the package and looked, then said: “So this is what you’ve been busy with all along! Attending to matters at hand is what truly counts. These things are not what you should be prioritizing right now.”

“My official duties have not been neglected.”

Zheng Xi raised it only in passing, and it was over in a moment. Then he turned to teasing: “You’ve already brought this now — what will you bring on the actual day to make a show? You know as well as I do that you don’t have a great deal of property.”

Zhù Ying said, “On the day, I’ll send another gift in the name of the Court of Judicial Review.”

“Pfft!” Zheng Xi laughed. “Mischievous!” Then he spoke to Zhù Ying quite seriously: “You ought to manage your household estate more diligently.”

Zhù Ying said, “I added another twenty mu of farmland this year.”

Zheng Xi shook his head: “A little more would do no harm.”

“Understood.”

She also asked when the actual wedding day was. Having gotten the exact date, she asked: “Is there anything you need me to do?”

Zheng Xi said, “Come on the day, dress up properly, and — don’t drink wine, that’s all.”

“Hmm? Won’t there be an escort for the procession?”

Zheng Xi mocked her: “You? The procession escort gets beaten and has to compose poetry!” The beating — Zhù Ying would certainly dodge it, leaving the superior himself to take the blows from the Yue family’s women. As for composing poetry — Zhù Ying’s literary talent before Liu Songnian was the kind that deserved a beating. What use would she be?!

Zheng Xi had already borrowed several talented gentlemen, along with his own kinsman Zheng Yi, to serve as the groomsmen. That should scrape by.

As for receiving guests at the Zheng household, that was even less Zhù Ying’s role. It was right and proper for a subordinate to do things for a superior, but when the superior had an extensive family with no shortage of people to help, and you were still jumping up and scrambling around as if performing a servant’s duties, both parties would catch criticism together — and Zhù Ying would catch the worst of it.

It was best for Zhù Ying to sit at the banquet with Shao Shuxin and the others, presenting a respectable appearance among officials of similar rank — that itself was doing something for Zheng Xi.

Men like Jin Liang and Wen Yue had gone out from the Zheng household as officials and could properly help with more — even working alongside Zheng family servants was acceptable; that was called “not forgetting where they came from.” Zheng Xi had not arranged for them to do menial labor, but rather had them receive guests alongside his own family members.

On the day of the wedding, nearly half the capital’s powerful families came. The entire Zheng household was in total chaos. Zhù Ying did not take her seat immediately; she hung back at the side, chatting with Shao Shuxin. Shao Shuxin said, “Why aren’t you going to sit down?”

Zhù Ying said, “And you’re not going either?”

Both of them were relative newcomers. Zhù Ying could only recognize a handful of people who had passed through the palace gates for morning court; Shao Shuxin had no Sixth Young Lord Yang to point out guests and gossip with him — and even fewer acquaintances. The two of them seized this opportunity, listening to the announcer call out names as guests were received, trying to commit as many people to memory as possible.

Even memorizing their faces would not be enough to immediately sort out the relationships between them all.

The two stood there until Wen Yue found them and shooed them off to their seats: “What are you two doing here? Go take your seats!”

They were just about to go when a name was announced — Zheng Xi’s maternal uncle had also come to offer his congratulations!

Zhù Ying asked, “How many maternal uncles does Lord Zheng have?”

“Ridiculous question.” Wen Yue muttered irritably. Just one — after Zheng Xi’s maternal aunt parted ways with the Duan family, she had remarried quite soon, and this year had returned to the capital along with her husband! The “uncle” in question was not a local official but a stationed general, which was why Zhù Ying had never crossed paths with him at the Court of Judicial Review. She could not possibly push over to him now — every member of Zheng’s immediate family was a person of considerable standing; she was not in a position to go over uninvited. She did not need to force introductions at this gathering. Even Prince Gaoyang had let her help him with something and afterward — hadn’t he? — not treated her as particularly precious.

She ambled leisurely to her seat. Eat! She told herself: I have nothing to do today at any rate! If anything comes up, it will be a matter for later days. It’s so cold — who has the heart for all this receiving and seeing off? Sitting here eating hot soup and warm water is far more comfortable!

She watched the bridegroom weave through the banquet tables, entertaining guest after guest; he came around once to her table as well. She said to Shao Shuxin: “Done — Lord Zheng won’t have a moment to spare for us after this; let’s eat and slip away.”

Shao Shuxin was of the same mind: “Agreed!”

Zhù Ying was halfway out the door when she was grabbed by Gan Ze: “Seventh Young Lord has a word for you.”

“So he’s faking being drunk, is he?”

“Shh —”

Zhù Ying could not guess why Zheng Xi was calling for her but went all the same to the study.

A faint smell of wine hung in the study. The nape and neck of Zheng Xi’s head were flushed a soft pink — not drunk, but he had had a considerable amount. He was leaning back, with Lu Chao pressing a hot steaming towel to his face to help clear the alcohol.

Zheng Xi suddenly asked Zhù Ying: “As I recall, your file says your birthday is the twenty-seventh of the first month?”

“Hmm? Oh — yes.” This birthday generally wasn’t much observed; sometimes she simply forgot it entirely. Only the following year, when it occurred to her, would she do a rough count of how old she was now.

“Next year you’ll be twenty — you ought to hold a capping ceremony and take a courtesy name,” Zheng Xi said.

“Oh?”

Zheng Xi waved Lu Chao aside and looked Zhù Ying up and down: “After the capping ceremony, let the beard grow — that would give you a properly mature, composed appearance.”

Zhù Ying: …