“You haven’t gone drunk, have you?” Zhù Ying said.
Gan Ze and Lu Chao both snuck glances at her and then at Zheng Xi, then pretended to have heard nothing.
Zheng Xi said with an amused curse: “No sense of propriety! You’re nearly grown up, and you still love to talk nonsense.”
Zhù Ying said, “This is your auspicious day — don’t waste it worrying over these things. Go be with your new wife. If this is all you wanted to say, then I’m heading home.”
Growing a beard — is that really something a superior should be minding?
Zheng Xi was not, however, put off by this rebuff. His voice carried a slight flush of drink, but his words were quite clear: “Keep this in mind. Some things cannot wait.”
Zhù Ying leaned in a little and asked: “Something’s wrong — what’s happened?”
Zheng Xi took the strong tea Gan Ze handed him and sipped it, then looked Zhù Ying steadily in the eye: “How long have I been at the Court of Judicial Review?”
Zhù Ying’s heart gave a sudden lurch! Her eyes widened just slightly.
Zheng Xi said, “Good — not entirely dense! I’d begun to wonder if it would escape you entirely.”
Zheng Xi’s remarriage had brought crowds of guests. The officials of comparable rank to his were almost all older than he was; those who matched him in age were, for the most part, still toiling several levels below, obliged to be courteous and deferential to him at official functions. Today at this wedding, as his seniors, they could speak to him with all the sagely gravity of elders. Zheng Xi had spent the first half of the reception at table after table, and wherever he went, he had to accept a few words of instruction. The guests remarked that Marquis Zheng had raised such a fine son — look at him, so young and yet President of the Court of Judicial Review for so many years, not a single misstep. Zheng Xi’s face wore a smile; his lips murmured humble words; but inwardly, he felt a jolt.
The banquet was nearly over, and he managed, while it was still fresh in his mind, to say a word to Zhù Ying. Zhù Ying had always been a relief to him — give her a word and she would remember it and handle a dozen things properly, drawing her own inferences from a single case. In the days ahead, Zheng Xi would have a great many things to occupy him; saying it now was to give Zhù Ying a sense of what was coming.
Zhù Ying had not let him down. One sentence was all she needed to understand the crux of it.
Seeing that she had grasped it, Zheng Xi went on: “Yes — the way one ‘doffs one’s coarse cloth’ is this: it is not only a man putting on official robes who has changed. The thing he carries inside is the same as before, yet it is no longer what it was before. You are at that point now. You’ve taken charge of so many of the Court’s affairs — you need a bearing to match it, an appearance that fits. Only when the appearance matches can you carry weightier responsibilities. I will do my best to arrange an advancement for you — but you must also prepare yourself. Understood?”
Zhù Ying said, “Understood.”
“If I get busy and forget, remind me.”
“Understood.”
“You are still young — this is very good. I only wish you were not quite so young.” Zheng Xi said this, and he himself could not tell whether he felt glad or not. And he felt another stab of regret that Zhù Ying had not read for the jinshi examination — if she had, she could completely have…
Zhù Ying’s heart felt weighted. She bowed: “My lord — I will take my leave.”
Zheng Xi waved a hand. “Go.”
* * *
Cao Chang had drunk a little wine today and was rather talkative on the way home, riding his little donkey, its hooves clip-clopping on the ground, his mouth going just as steadily: “Sanlang, what a grand occasion today!” “Sanlang, when are you going to take a wife?” “Sanlang, they have so many people in that household — when will we get a cook added to ours?”
Zhù Ying let him chatter on. She sat on her horse, swaying gently, her mood not very good.
Back home, all four of the household were still awake. Cao Chang handed the wedding cakes and other treats from the Zheng household to Du Dajie with a certain swagger: “These are wedding cakes from that residence! And wine! Plenty of people didn’t get any wine — our family did!”
Du Dajie smiled broadly: “I’ve never in my life eaten anything from a marquis’s household. Madam — save me a wedding cake too.”
Zhang Xiangu said, “Take a whole one!”
Zhù Ying said, “They ordered those from outside just the same as everyone else. For a banquet with so many guests, even the biggest kitchen couldn’t have managed it all.”
Zhù Da said, “Doesn’t matter — it came out of the marquis’s household.”
Zhù Ying laughed: “Then taste it while it’s fresh — enjoy it today, and finish what’s left tomorrow.”
Zhang Xiangu said, “We’ve already had dinner! How could we eat all of that tonight?”
“Alright — take it, you decide what to do with it.” Zhù Ying said, heading back to the inner bedroom to change and sleep.
It was cold now; the puppy had grown a little, and Cao Chang had become quite dependable — so she went back to sleep in the rear. It was already the tenth month; time to light the charcoal brazier. The study was full of books and paper, both combustible, so it was better to sleep in the bedroom. She changed behind the folding screen and came out carrying her outer robe: “Du Dajie — if tomorrow’s sun is good, take this outside to air, get the smell out of it.”
Ordinary households did not often wash clothes made of fine fabric — such materials could not bear washing; they pilled, tore, and shed color easily. Today she had been drinking at the banquet, wearing embroidered robes, and the smell of wine and the rest had seeped into the cloth; a good sunny airing would dispel it. Winter sun was not fierce enough to damage the fabric.
Huajie came and took the robe, saying: “She’s gone to boil water. Just leave it in the room; I’ll remember to air it out for you tomorrow.”
“Alright. The water isn’t ready yet — let’s first go and lock all the doors and bolt them.”
The two of them went through the house checking all the doors. The robe was left; Du Dajie soon had the water boiled, Zhù Ying washed and bathed, and then sat on the edge of the bed soaking her feet, saying to Du Dajie: “You should rest too. I’ll pour out the water myself.”
Du Dajie said: “Don’t bother emptying it — just leave it in the room. The charcoal brazier dries the throat; a basin of water in the room is actually better. I’ll come get it first thing in the morning.” Having said this, she left.
Once the door to the side courtyard was shut, Huajie came over and said: “Something’s not right today, is it?”
Zhù Ying said, “What could be wrong?”
Huajie said, “I can’t say exactly — you just look off.”
Zhù Ying patted the bed beside her: “Come sit. Oh — have you washed? Come soak your feet, and then we can talk properly. There’s something a little difficult — it needs to be talked through carefully.”
Huajie laughed: “Then I won’t go back at all — I’ll soak my feet here too.”
She removed her shoes and stockings, pulled over a chair, and the two of them sat facing each other soaking their feet. Four feet splashing about in the water basin, Huajie laughing out loud, then asking: “What happened today?”
Zhù Ying said, “Lord Zheng said I’m turning twenty, I ought to hold a capping ceremony and grow a beard.”
Huajie’s two feet went still. She looked at Zhù Ying in astonishment: “Had he lost his senses with drink? What kind of superior concerns himself with a subordinate’s beard? You haven’t even turned twenty yet!” Even when she did turn twenty, this was not something one did the moment one reached the age. Some men pushed themselves to grow a beard at sixteen or seventeen to appear older; others shaved their beards at twenty or thirty to appear younger — especially when they were trying to deceive someone into marriage.
Huajie felt a flutter of anxiety. She said, “When was there ever such exact timing? What is his real intention? Is it still to arrange a marriage for you?”
Zhù Ying shook her head: “He is not a man who raises such things out of personal preference on a whim.”
Huajie said: “Of course he isn’t the sort to casually toy with a capable subordinate. There must be some scheme. That’s precisely what I fear — that his scheme may harm you. Otherwise, why would he suddenly bring this up on his own wedding day, of all days, when he should be thinking of nothing else?”
Zhù Ying said, “Don’t alarm yourself. I’ll explain and then you’ll understand. This is also a matter I wanted to discuss with you first — reckoning by three-year provincial terms, his tenure at the Court of Judicial Review is already in its third cycle. How many more cycles can he hold this post? How many more years can he remain at the Court of Judicial Review?”
Huajie knew the workings of the official world only in a rough, half-formed way and had never thought about this before. Now that Zhù Ying raised it, she said, “I believe you can’t stay too long in one place!”
The higher the rank of the official, the less permissible it was for him to stay in one position too long. In practice, of course, there was always give-and-take among the various powers involved, so the length of tenure varied by person — some could barely hold a seat for a few days before being reshuffled, and others managed to build a lasting power base in a single place over a long time. But as a general rule, as long as the Emperor maintained firm control, this was how it worked.
In positions requiring a special skill, someone with that expertise might serve longer. But the head of an organ of government with considerable power was a different matter entirely.
A man who spent too long in an important post was not something any emperor found reassuring!
In any institution, it was always the permanent staff who endured longest.
Zhù Ying said, “So when Lord Wang became Chief Minister…”
The capital was so vital — managing it well would have given even a would-be rebel enough to keep the Emperor seriously busy. Wang Yunhe, however excellent, could not serve as Metropolitan Governor more than seven or eight years — no more than that!
As it happened, Wang Yunhe was also at more or less the right age: his character, reputation, and abilities were all proven. He was well suited to serve as Chief Minister.
Gong Jie had been elevated to Chief Minister before Chen Luan; Chen Luan’s tenure as Chief Minister was also nearing its end — so he needed to hurry and send his son out on a provincial posting for some seasoning, stop the boy from dawdling foolishly; by the time the son returned from a three-year term, he could make his arrangements and then honorably request to retire. Shi Kun had only just been elevated a few years ago — a useful placeholder, working alongside the capable Wang Yunhe. When Shi Kun had served long enough to be ready for retirement, one or two new men could be brought in to work alongside Wang Yunhe. Once those two new men had gotten their footing, Wang Yunhe too could retire with dignity.
A Chief Minister who did not wish to retire was unlikely to come to a good end.
“Who doesn’t wish to go on forever? Even the Emperor wishes to go on forever!” Zhù Ying said. “Unfortunately, His Majesty will likely not allow Lord Zheng to remain much longer at the Court of Judicial Review.”
There was a human tendency toward inertia — once comfortable with things as they were, one did not want them to change. But when it came to the Emperor’s assignments of officials, this inertia was as low as it could be.
For provincial postings, provided the place was not so poor and miserable that no one could be induced to go, two terms meant you were moved on.
How long would the Emperor allow his own nephew to sit in the President’s seat at the Court of Judicial Review? Three terms? Five?
Five terms — fifteen years. Even at fifteen years, Zheng Xi’s tenure was well past its midpoint. From what Zhù Ying knew, no President of the Court of Judicial Review in the current dynasty had served that long. If the Court were a person, fifteen years and it would practically be grown up! One man nurturing this institution for fifteen years — would that be the Court’s master or practically a father to it?! Could that be right?
Three terms? That was by no means short — one could not say the Emperor was not generous with his nephew. Nine years! Having a man preside over a department for nine years was a very long and very trusting tenure. That would mean Zheng Xi had perhaps only two more years at the Court, give or take. Reassignment at any time would not be unusual.
Not to mention a nephew — even a son, once long established in the Crown Prince’s quarters, would make an emperor feel…
Stop — this line of thought could not continue!
Huajie looked at Zhù Ying and said: “Lord Zheng feels he does not have much longer at the Court of Judicial Review and wants you to watch over the Court for him? But you are too young, and your credentials are not sufficient to take his position! Your official rank is too low — you will have a very difficult time at the Court in the future! No one will look favorably on the confidante left behind by a former superior. Everyone has people they want to cultivate. You may well be stronger than others, but no matter how strong, it will never be as comfortable as having your own people. He won’t take you with him?”
Zhù Ying said, “He has spent all these years building this position — he can’t easily let go of it. He doesn’t yet know where he’ll be posted next; how is he to arrange things for me? If he goes to take up some leisurely prestigious post, or somewhere that has no use for someone like me — what then? It’s fair to say he has treated me very well. The way I see it, he means to push for one more promotion for me — barely enough to let me remain at the Court of Judicial Review.”
Otherwise, Associate Justice and Investigating Officer of the Court held the same rank — he could just shift her to Investigating Officer and keep her traveling on assignments out of the capital forever…
There was no shortage of methods in this world for quietly forcing someone out without resorting to framing them or stabbing them in the back. Using the plain rules of officialdom, a man could be posted into oblivion without anyone laying a hand on him. If she became an Associate Justice of the Court, she could avoid many of the legitimate risks that would otherwise arise — and the position was just the right height, neither too high nor too low; staying at the Court of Judicial Review would be perfectly appropriate. She had been at the Court six years, had been involved in no small number of cases, and had accumulated a reasonable amount of credibility — though her age was too young and she had no marquis for a father or princess for a mother. For someone just over twenty to reach the upper fifth rank would be glaringly conspicuous.
She needed to make a show of sincerity on her outward appearance. Otherwise, if Zheng Xi was already working to advance her on his end, and she herself on the other end was stubbornly insisting “I won’t — I have the ability to make people see my ability, not my beard,” she would be refusing a toast and asking for a forfeit, just inviting punishment.
“Still — it may not come to that,” Zhù Ying said. “Who knows?”
Huajie said no more. She listened quietly, waiting for Zhù Ying to work out the details herself.
Zhù Ying said: “Growing a beard is not just about growing a beard. He is teaching me — that whatever you are doing, you must look the part. Whatever kind of person you are, you must have the appearance of that kind of person; only then will you not waste energy on unnecessary friction. Even a fortune-teller running a divination stall needs a proper set of prop robes. He is not proposing something so trivial as growing facial hair on a whim tomorrow. He is teaching me. And he is not leaving tomorrow — but he must make arrangements for me early. I have already advanced very quickly; the fewer things I give people to criticize, the fewer handles I leave for others to grab. He has thought of everything he can think of.”
Huajie said, “He goes to all this trouble and in the end still needs you to work hard. As you grow older, you will eventually have to face this — growing a beard has its logic. And then marriage…”
“Just keep stalling, the same as before. It’s not the first time I’ve stalled on something he wants me to do. The house — how many years did I stall on that? The servants — how many years? Didn’t it all work out fine in the end?” Zhù Ying slowly moved her feet out of the basin and let the water drip off. She spoke while drying her feet: “The water’s gone cold — don’t soak any longer.” Having dried her feet, she sat up in the bedding.
Huajie gave an awkward little laugh, then sat down too. The shadow in her heart, however, would not lift. The house, the servants — Zhù Ying had managed all of that beautifully. But a beard — how was a girl supposed to manage that?
What Zhù Ying wanted to say to her was something else: “I’m telling you all of this so that you’ll have a sense of what lies ahead — the household will need a great deal more looking after by you. These things are not easy to explain all at once to Father and Mother — sometimes they can’t take it all in at once sitting, they can’t hold it all in their heads. You’ve been caught up in my troubles.”
Huajie said, “And shielded by your protection as well. Don’t worry. We’ll explain things to Godfather and Godmother gradually. I can see that after that fall from the mule, Godfather has become quite a lot quieter.”
Zhù Ying said, “I’m counting on you.”
“Aren’t we family? What is there to count on? When the person bearing the heavy load is you, you can’t expect that just because she’s family, she should silently bear it without anyone acknowledging that it costs her something.”
Huajie thought: But you are precisely that person bearing the heavy load! She said, “I should go back to my room. If Du Dajie comes early tomorrow with hot water and doesn’t find me, she’ll be startled.”
* * *
Huajie returned to her room, barely sleeping half the night through, turning over in her mind how to handle things, how to explain them to Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da. She could not go on endlessly frightening the two elderly people: if you don’t behave, Little Zhù will be exposed. Said too often, heard too often, and people grew numb. She had to make them understand properly.
In the end, Huajie steeled herself: Never mind — I’ll teach them to read! Reading, studying — only then can they properly understand reason. Zhù Ying’s life is still so long; how can we keep her parents muddled and in the dark?
The culprit herself, Zhù Ying, slept soundly and sweetly through the night.
At the first glimmer of dawn, Zhù Ying climbed out of bed and prepared to go to the Court of Judicial Review.
It was Zheng Xi’s wedding leave. The Court had no head official today, and everyone was in particularly high spirits. Zhù Ying also reported the day’s business to both Vice Presidents. Leng Yun even teased her: “Well now — father’s not here, so your uncle here will give you guidance!”
Zhù Ying waited for the two of them to issue their instructions on today’s matters, then gave Leng Yun a proper roll of her eyes and looked down at him. Leng Yun, imitating Zheng Xi’s manner, pointed at Zhù Ying: “Unfilial one!”
Pei Qing shook his head with a smile — this pair together was always good for entertainment.
The Court of Judicial Review frolicked and misbehaved for a few days, as if no one had realized that this pleasant life — everyone rubbed along together, and the arrangements worked well enough for everyone — was not something that could last.
Zheng Xi enjoyed his wedding leave fully, accompanying his new wife at home, then accompanying her back to her family’s home, and then taking her to call on his own elder relatives. At the Court of Judicial Review meanwhile, all was as it had been. The new winter’s supply of charcoal had been stacked — even more plentiful than last year’s. Because the manager, Zhù Ying, had moved into a larger house and added household members, her own requirements were also greater, and so everyone’s fuel allocation had increased along with hers, as had the Court’s own reserves.
Shao Shuxin’s family storehouse profited another handsome sum from the Court of Judicial Review.
By the time Zheng Xi returned, the staff did little more than extend their congratulations once more. Zheng Xi, aside from carrying perhaps a slightly extra touch of good humor on his face, was otherwise exactly as before; by the eleventh month, even that slight extra warmth had faded away, and he was entirely his old self.
It was also at this time that the court finally determined the new Metropolitan Governor — the President of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices was transferred to take the post.
This outcome was neither good nor bad — only marginally better than having no Metropolitan Governor at all. This gentleman was of the same sort as Shi Kun: when he had been serving as President of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, Sixth Young Lord Yang had wandered all over the place spreading gossip and he had not done a thing about it. The Imperial Sacrifices building shared a wall with the Court of Judicial Review; the Gong case had set the whole capital buzzing — and this man never once poked his head over to look. That was his style.
Zhù Ying could only be grateful that the degree certificate for Xiao Jiang had finally come through — one more safeguard at least. Because Old Mu was moving away from the pleasure quarter, one of the people who kept an eye on Xiao Jiang would be gone. Zhù Ying knew this because she had still not yet subleased the old rooms she had rented there. Old Mu said that living by the river for so many years had left the damp deep in his bones, and the aches and pains had become chronic. He wanted to move somewhere more comfortable, but had not yet found a place. Zhù Ying had some extra cash by now and did not feel like subletting those rooms, so she let Old Mu stay on without rent.
But she still felt uneasy inwardly.
Why had Old Ma and Old Mu retired from their old trade? The capital was too risky for that line of work. Now, even though they had both returned to their former ways, why was that? What had changed?
She was still safe for now, but… the atmosphere was different.
On her way home that evening, she stopped to buy a packet of warm sugar cakes. Coming in the gate, she bit into one herself — piping hot, with a filling of lard and white sugar: fragrant and sweet! She stuffed one into Cao Chang’s mouth and carried the rest through the inner gate. A lamp was already lit in the west side-room; Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da were writing — hands smeared with ink!
Both of them had always gotten dizzy at the mere sight of reading and writing. But after Huajie’s persuasion, they had decided it was true that “one ought to know more characters — otherwise one can’t follow learned conversation, one speaks in a way that invites mockery, and it’s easy to be cheated.” And since there was nothing more interesting to do, the weather had turned cold, and it was inconvenient to go out and play, both had made up their minds to study.
Unfortunately, neither of them had any aptitude for reading — and being older now, their progress was agonizingly slow.
Zhang Xiangu was quite embarrassed about this, thinking a slate and chalk would be enough — she should not waste brush and paper when she was learning so poorly. Zhù Ying said, “Then what am I earning all this money for?”
So they began using paper and brush.
But the writing was truly ugly, and the learning was truly slow. Thankfully, Huajie had the patience for it: she taught a few characters a day, and if they forgot, they started over from the beginning. Even Du Dajie had picked up a few characters alongside them. Huajie did not use canonical texts or children’s primers. She started by teaching a few characters used in accounting, then a few names of medicinal herbs from her own work, and planned to follow up by teaching the names of everyday household objects — all practical things with physical referents, easier to learn. The hardest part of learning was the beginning; as long as interest was maintained without sparking a contrary reaction, the rest would follow. The two elders had a certain plain, honest goodness in their natures; all they needed was to become a bit more organized in their thinking and capable of understanding the everyday affairs of Zhù Ying’s present life. There was no need to force them to sit for the imperial examination.
So far, both of them were adapting reasonably well. Zhang Xiangu was especially motivated — she had known fewer characters than Zhù Da before, and was absolutely not going to be outshone by that fool of a man! Zhù Da also wanted to get the better of Zhang Xiangu. Two people who both found learning difficult were competing with each other, and both managed it equally poorly, frequently dropping their studies halfway through to argue with each other. Zhang Xiangu would brag that Zhù Ying was clever because she took after her; Zhù Da would claim Zhù Ying was of his old Zhù family blood. Zhù Da, on account of knowing one character better than his wife, would mock her and earn himself a beating.
Many absurd scenes had played out between them.
They had made up their minds to study, but their daughter coming home gave them a perfectly good excuse to abandon the lesson. The two cheered as if liberated and looked at the sugar cakes with greater fondness than usual!
Both Zhù Ying and Huajie were helpless and amused. Huajie said, “Wash your hands! You’re covered in ink — you’ll eat it along with the cake.”
Zhù Da had already eaten one and said, “A bit of dirt never hurt anyone.”
At dinner, Zhù Da and Zhang Xiangu took turns criticizing each other’s poor progress; Zhù Ying watched and felt deeply grateful to Huajie.
After the evening meal, Zhù Da and Zhang Xiangu, worn out, decided to sleep early!
Zhù Ying didn’t bother going to the study either. To save a bit of charcoal, she brought the books she needed to read back to her bedroom and set up a small table by the bed. Huajie would sometimes be able to settle her own accounts there too.
The two of them were each busy with their own affairs when there seemed to be a slight commotion outside. Zhù Ying went out to look; everything around their house was quiet. Zhù Da and Zhang Xiangu were asleep and had not woken; Huajie, however, had come out too. Zhù Ying said, “Let’s go up and have a look.” Huajie told Du Dajie, who had also come out: “Stay here — don’t wander off.”
The two went upstairs, pushed open the lattice window of the enclosed corridor, and saw in the distance a pillar of fire leaping at the sky! Somewhere was on fire! Judging from the direction, it was a good neighborhood — the kind where, for an identical-sized compound, the price of the land alone would be more than double what she was living in. She watched with some anxiety until the fire was put out, only then no longer worried about the blaze spreading and engulfing her home.
Huajie said, “I wonder whose house it is.”
Zhù Ying said, “We’ll find that out by morning. The people in that area are none of them ordinary — they won’t be ruined by a single fire.” If they were ordinary wealthy folk, one fire could beg them; if they were powerful and noble households, they certainly had plenty of servants to fight the fire; the only ones who would be impoverished were their tenant farmers.
Zhù Ying opened the inner gate and told Cao Chang, who had gotten up: “Nothing to worry about — a fire broke out somewhere in the distance. Go back to sleep.”
* * *
Not until the next day at the Court of Judicial Review did Zhù Ying learn that the night’s fire had burned the house of someone she knew — Zheng Yi.
On learning this, she went after work to call on Zheng Yi at his home. On the road she ran into someone from the Marquis Zheng’s household coming back from there; Zhù Ying asked: “How is everyone?”
The steward smiled: “Sanlang has come too? Decent of you. The family members are all fine; two servants were trampled and injured in the rush, and one was overcome by smoke.”
Zheng Yi was Zheng Xi’s kinsman. His family was of noble descent but from a collateral line; his parents and grandparents had not had Marquis Zheng’s distinction, though they had a perfectly respectable family estate. He had not yet divided the household — he lived together with his father and brothers; counting everyone from the head of household to the servants, the number of people was considerable. In this dry autumn weather, the fire had broken out. Luckily, they were not far from the main branch of the family; the main branch had also done its part, sending men over to help fight the fire. Thanks to this, the main residence had been kept safe; the family could still live there. Some of the servants’ quarters had been burned, and some stored goods had gone up — especially the winter’s supply of charcoal. Had the fire not caught that stored charcoal, it would not have blazed so fiercely that Zhù Ying could see it from home.
Marquis Zheng and Zheng Xi had both sent people to check on the family and offer whatever help was needed, leaving some men behind to look after Zheng Yi’s courtyard.
Zhù Ying having now grasped the general situation, went to find Zheng Yi. Zheng Yi’s spirits were still reasonably good; he was directing servants to pile bricks haphazardly and screen off the intact part of the compound from the burned sections. Beside him, Wen Yue had arrived even before Zhù Ying.
Seeing her come, Zheng Yi smiled: “Word travels fast, I see?”
“Thirteenth Young Lord.”
Zheng Yi said, “Out with the old, in with the new!”
Zhù Ying said, “Do you need anything in an emergency?”
“Hmm? I’ve heard you’re quite capable — what do you have to offer?”
Zhù Ying smiled: “Call it Thirteenth Young Lord’s good timing. It’s almost the twelfth month, and I was already getting ready to organize year-end supplies for everyone at the Court of Judicial Review. There’s also winter fuel and fodder. I should think Thirteenth Young Lord here still needs some of that. And I know some bricklayers and plasterers — I had dealings with them when I was building my own house; their work is solid. Thirteenth Young Lord, if you trust me, I can have them come in the next day or two to do a temporary repair of the brickwork and tiles. That’s all I have available right now. What would Thirteenth Young Lord like?”
Wen Yue said to Zheng Yi, “She hasn’t stumped you, has she?”
Zheng Yi’s mouth fell open for a moment before he said: “No wonder Seventh Brother…”
Wen Yue said to Zhù Ying, “His household — what would he be short of? There are the Duke’s household and the Marquis’s household after all. It’s just that the charcoal burned up and his household has quite a lot of people — in winter the demand is high, and scraping together the supply on short notice is a bit difficult. If you can help smooth things over, that’s all that’s needed.”
Zheng Yi added, “I also need some tile-layers — the people in my household have no experience with this sort of work; they’re clumsy. Not the finest craftsmen — just enough to throw up a few rooms.” The main residence was undamaged; the servants’ quarters could be makeshift for now, and a proper renovation could wait until spring.
Zhù Ying said, “Understood. I’ll see to it right away. Do you need a couple of carpenters as well? The doors and windows will still need to be made.”
“Good.”
Wen Yue walked back with Zhù Ying, and on the way said: “You’ve only just built your own house — your funds can’t be comfortable.”
Zhù Ying said, “I have room to maneuver.”
She was after all the grand manager of the Court of Judicial Review. Charcoal, fodder, all those sundry subsidies — she had a whole stockpile in hand; shifting a little here and there was not difficult.
Wen Yue said, “Don’t overextend yourself either.”
“I know my limits. He has proper relatives; he and I are not exactly close friends either — not my place, not my position. I just lend a hand. Do too much and I’m stepping on someone else’s territory and making people uncomfortable — that makes me out to be either a schemer or a thief.”
Wen Yue laughed: “You do love to be prickly. Your heart is much kinder than you make out.”
“My heart is not kind at all. I only look out for the people around me. Everyone else is beyond my care.”
They chatted easily and parted ways at the crossroads. Zhù Ying made the arrangements for Zheng Yi, found the craftsmen she had worked with before, and introduced Fu Long to Zheng Yi as well.
Seeing Zhù Ying put together such a complete team, Zheng Yi said once again: “You really are something.”
Zhù Ying said, “All those people are just being long-winded.”
Zheng Yi laughed: “They just don’t understand how things work.”
Zhù Ying smiled.
* * *
Zheng Yi’s fire was no more than a minor episode; the servants’ quarters were simply repaired before the year’s end. In the twelfth month, there was a rather bigger matter at court — a new President of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices arrived in the capital.
The old President of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices had been transferred to serve as Metropolitan Governor, leaving the Court of Imperial Sacrifices without a head officer, and there were quite a few ceremonial matters that required someone to preside over them. The Emperor transferred Duan Ying’s father, Duan Lin, to the capital to serve as President of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices.
The whole court’s reaction to this was remarkably calm — no one jumped out to oppose it, and no one made snide remarks. Even Marquis Zheng’s hand on his fishing rod did not so much as tremble once.
Duan Lin was forty-three this year — one could call him in the prime of his life. He cut a fine figure and was impeccably dressed. Everyone had assumed it was the younger generation that had come to provoke things and taken a beating; now the elder had arrived in the capital to back the younger one up before the younger had even been provoked!
Most people simply went on preparing for the New Year, waiting to see what Duan Lin would do when he arrived.
Zhù Ying was no exception. She was busy with a proper New Year’s celebration herself. It was the first New Year in “her own house.” When she had built the place, it had felt like little more than completing a task; now it held a different significance entirely.
Cao Chang was given holiday leave to go home and be with his parents. He was quite conflicted about this — he knew that at New Year there were many things that needed doing, particularly for male servants: someone had to be on hand to deliver calling cards, did they not? Zhù Ying shooed him home: “I’m not on New Year’s Eve duty this year; on the first day of the New Year, I’ll make my calls myself.” She gave him some New Year’s money and gifts and sent him off on his donkey.
Zhù Ying had no shortage of help for the New Year either. On the first day, Jin Liang sent his own page boy Lai Fu over to help deliver calling cards. Zhù Ying did not stand on ceremony; she gave Lai Fu five hundred coins as a New Year’s gift and sent him off to run errands.
The rest of it was the usual New Year’s round of calls. Zhù Ying now had both a horse and a carriage; she rode freely wherever she wished, or accompanied the family on visits. She also went to the home of her old colleague Old Wang. Old Wang was finding walking increasingly difficult but his mind had not clouded over; he laughed warmly and asked: “What brings you so early this year? Not on night duty?”
Zhù Ying said, “One has to leave some opportunities for other people.”
Old Wang roared with laughter. Then he said: “Little Zhù — a wind is coming!”
“You’ve managed to get out of it before it arrives.”
“If you could get out of it too, it would be better. Ah, forget it — you’re at the age where you make your own winds and rain. No getting out of it, no getting out of it.”
Zhù Ying said, “I’ll take that as good fortune you’re wishing me.”
The Zheng household gave her many advantages during the New Year as usual; she came out of it with a bit more ease in her purse. She also remembered to go to Wang Yunhe’s residence for New Year’s greetings, bringing the same ordinary four-item set of gifts as always — quite undistinguished in the mountain of offerings a Chief Minister received. Wang Yunhe had no complaint and, after asking what she had brought, picked out a package of pastries to share with Liu Songnian. He told Liu Songnian: “When she picks something to eat, it always has some distinctive quality.”
Liu Songnian said, “Eyebrow-singeing serious trouble all around him, and he still has the heart to wander all over the capital hunting for pastries!”
Not only did Zhù Ying have the heart to wander the capital hunting for pastries — she also had the heart to accompany Zhang Xiangu to a temple to burn incense. The incense traffic at Ci’en Temple was exceedingly heavy, and getting a visit with the abbot was very difficult; Zhù Ying had no intention of cultivating an acquaintance with that eminent monk. Yet it was the eminent monk who called out to her: “Lord Zhù.”
“I would not dare accept that address.”
Zhang Xiangu became a little nervous and asked Zhù Ying quietly: “Old Three — do you have some business with this great monk?”
The abbot said: “Madam, please do not be alarmed. This humble monk has merely a word or two to exchange with Lord Zhù on the subject of Buddhist teachings.”
Zhù Ying said, “Please, please — I know nothing about that.”
The abbot simply smiled. Zhù Ying cursed inwardly: what a sly monk!
She had no choice but to speak frankly: “Don’t take to heart what I said that day. Anyone with a modicum of intelligence who has encountered that verse will love to use it in front of a monk — as if by parroting one line of the Sixth Patriarch, they could stand in the Sixth Patriarch’s shoes when speaking to the clergy. I am no different — I was only repeating what I had heard. I would not presume to such delusions. Great Monk — do not see what you should not see; the Buddha will forgive me. I was only trying to get away at the time.”
The abbot’s smile became more genuine: “This humble monk’s confusion runs even deeper. The lady has grasped more by being able to say those words than by merely knowing the verse.”
Zhù Ying begged off repeatedly: “Please spare me — I am quite incapable of riddles and wordplay. I am a thoroughly ordinary person; I only know the coarsest way of speaking. Great Monk, consider — surely the empty gate cannot be empty in all things? Otherwise would not the very teachings of the Buddha themselves be rendered void? All things must have something to rest upon. The law of the state, the law of the Buddha — pleasing one brother’s nature offends the other’s; when the wind picks up, it buffets a person left and right.”
The abbot pressed his palms together and intoned a name of the Buddha, saying: “What you have said is already quite restrained.”
“From someone who ‘lights incense at a mother’s command as a pretense for a religious occasion’ — I know no other way of being courteous.”
The abbot let out a peal of laughter.
At that moment, laughter also came from outside. Zhù Ying said: “Does the Great Monk have other guests?”
The abbot lowered his voice: “The new President of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices has come to offer incense oil and pray for his late parents.”
Zhù Ying stroked her chin and thought: I’m turning twenty this month — this man’s timing is quite something.