Leng Yun said in a breezy, casual tone, “Oh? What pits?”

Zhù Ying’s eyelid twitched. She saw that he was still sprawled across the couch, yet his elbows had lifted a little, and his shoulders had opened and leveled out — the upper half of his body was now smooth and straight. Her heart gave a quiet thud. She adopted a serious expression. “Spring plowing begins earlier in the south. By this time in previous years, Prefect Lu would have had the spring plowing all arranged. You, right now… do you know how many places have finished their spring plowing, and how many are still scrambling at the last moment?”

“Hmm?” Leng Yun’s brow furrowed.

He still looked thoroughly exhausted. He’d made it all the way without turning back, had put on a show of dignity before his subordinate officials — he was already a reasonably qualified figurehead. What Zhù Ying was raising now was something he had genuinely not thought about.

He shifted on the couch, speaking without much energy. “What do you mean? Didn’t your letter mention that I ought to get hold of some household and population figures? Why is there yet another issue on top of that?”

Zhù Ying’s heart settled a little. So Leng Yun wasn’t entirely without a clue. She glanced at the people on either side of Leng Yun and asked quietly, “My Excellency, forgive me my impudence — those few gentlemen just now, are they the aides Your Excellency brought with you?”

Leng Yun let out a long breath. “Can’t you speak to me first instead of going straight to them?”

Zhù Ying laughed lightly and said, “Of course not. I don’t know them at all. Since they are your aides, they ought to be informed of certain things. I’m hoping to save myself the trouble of saying everything twice.”

Leng Yun didn’t call anyone in. Instead he said, “Tell me first.”

A faint perspiration broke out in Zhù Ying’s palm. She too pulled herself together a little, instinctively adjusting her posture slightly, which made her seem all the more composed. She said, “This subordinate is no more than a county magistrate — I cannot claim to know everything across the whole prefecture. But I have lived through two transitions of power: once when I left the Court of Judicial Review, and once when I arrived in Fulu County. The aftermath of those two transitions has not been fully resolved even to this day.”

Leng Yun’s shoulders sagged back a little. “Quite so. Old Dou…”

The mere mention of Chief Justice Dou gave him a toothache. The transition between Lord Zheng and Dou had swept Leng Yun up as collateral damage too. He became more relaxed, his voice going a little hazy. “Prefect Lu — did he have any particular failings?”

Zhù Ying opened both hands wide. “Fulu County is in such a remote corner that I can only know so much. That’s precisely why I wanted to warn Your Excellency to be cautious.”

Leng Yun stroked his chin. “I see! So that’s how it is!” He sent a manservant to “invite” in the advisors he had brought with him. Leng Yun’s trusted personal servants were still the same few people from before — all old acquaintances of Zhù Ying’s from the capital — and now they finally exchanged a meaningful glance with her.

Leng Yun had brought four or five advisors with him. Lord Leng — knowing full well what his son was like — had prepared capable helpers for him, men who could assist the young lord in handling day-to-day affairs, allowing him to sit comfortably and wait for Zhù Ying to produce some achievements that he could then back up, so that in the end everyone would be satisfied.

Of these, the two who led the group were the most senior. The remaining three served as helpers to the helpers.

At this point, however, Zhù Ying had no real desire to meet Leng Yun’s advisors, and no great wish to meddle in Leng Yun’s affairs. But Leng Yun had changed his mind and seemed inclined to discuss matters with her — so she had no choice but to sit properly again.

Leng Yun gave a teasing laugh. “We’re speaking in private — you don’t have to be so stiff! Tsk tsk, it’s not like you’re standing before Lord Zheng.”

Zhù Ying said, “Give it a few more days, Your Excellency, and you’ll see I can be quite warm and free with you — not at all standing on ceremony.”

“Oh?”

The two exchanged a few words, and the advisors were led in by a manservant. Leng Yun stood up, shuffling in his slippers. “Come, let me introduce everyone. This is Zhù Ying — you’ve surely all heard of her. Sanlang, this is Master Xue, who has a superb command of penal law; and this is Master Dong, who is remarkably skilled with accounts…” Master Xue appeared to be around forty, while Master Dong had white beard and hair, close to sixty years old.

Beyond these two there were also Master Wang, Master Qian, and Master Guan, each with his own area of expertise — one proficient in engineering and construction, another well-versed in geography and terrain. All were in their thirties or forties, and every one of them projected an air of steady composure.

Zhù Ying met them all, and then Leng Yun said, “Well — go ahead and talk.”

Master Dong said, “Your Excellency, we have not yet reviewed the archives of this prefecture and thus have no particularly detailed proposals as yet. We must ask Magistrate Zhù for her guidance.”

Zhù Ying said, “What I know is also limited. The Ministry of Revenue and the Ministry of Personnel in the capital — I wonder whether they had anything specific to say? More detailed than what Your Excellency has already mentioned?” She directed this last question to Leng Yun.

Leng Yun said, “Honestly, nothing. The Ministry of Revenue did show me some figures, but they wouldn’t let me copy them down or bring anyone else in to see them.”

He still remembered figures for household populations, cultivated acreage, and annual tax revenues, but hadn’t been able to memorize the detailed numbers for each prefecture and county in full. He had also visited the Ministry of Personnel, and with just that one mention from Zhù Ying, even if Leng Yun himself hadn’t grasped it, Lord Leng certainly had: the appointment of local officials was the result of negotiation between a chief official and the Ministry of Personnel. This in turn touched on the question of authority over personnel appointments between central and local governments — and in the end, it was the Ministry of Personnel that held sway.

But if a prefecture’s prefect was forceful enough — or had connections strong enough and a close enough relationship with the Ministry of Personnel — he could also quietly have certain troublesome subordinates replaced in a piecemeal fashion.

Leng Yun controlling a whole prefecture in his current state would be very difficult; getting an entirely new set of officials across the prefecture was virtually impossible. Identifying in good time any subordinates who would be particularly difficult to handle, and finding ways to have the most troublesome ones quietly transferred away, was not, however, an impossible approach.

These things could not be spelled out plainly, so Zhù Ying didn’t ask for detail. She asked Leng Yun for household and population figures, and Master Dong recalled them more clearly than Leng Yun himself — and reported them all to Zhù Ying. Zhù Ying said, “Master Dong should know that what appears in ledgers is hypothetical. Only what is physically in the storehouses is real.”

Leng Yun touched his chin. “I just remembered that! Ah, when it comes to the handover, it’s easiest to doctor the accounts right then! No wonder you said there would be pits to fill! Back when we handled so many cases like this—”

Master Xue listened to their exchange for a while before interjecting, “Your Excellency, I ask that you exercise patience for now, and rest properly once you reach the prefectural city after the formal handover is completed. We are all strangers to this land. Magistrate Zhù has spent years here, and I too would like to seek her guidance on how best to settle affairs at the prefectural residence.”

Leng Yun gave a decisive nod. “Let’s do it that way!”

The deputy prefect had already planned for everyone to accompany him back to the prefectural city, and Zhù Ying had no grounds to decline. “Very well,” she said.

Master Xue then proceeded to “seek guidance” from Zhù Ying on the nature and temperaments of the chief officials across the prefecture’s various sub-prefectures, going through them one by one.

Zhù Ying said, “Confined as I am to a single county, I have occasion twice each year to travel to the prefectural governor’s residence and report to Prefect Lu — I have met some of these people. Which ones is Master Xue asking about? And what specifically is he asking? Anything too detailed, I may not be clear on. I can only speak generally to those I’ve actually met. Your Excellency — didn’t the Ministry of Personnel give you any specifics?”

Leng Yun said, “They rattled off ages, native places, and career histories as long as your arm — and they still weren’t complete. Nothing beats meeting someone in person.”

Zhù Ying then asked Leng Yun, “Which officials does Your Excellency want to know about?”

Leng Yun pointed at Master Xue. “You tell her.”

Master Xue said, “The prefecture’s deputy prefect…”

Leng Yun had received a list of the prefecture’s officials before arriving, but he’d been unable to memorize that whole string of names and posts — Master Xue still had them all committed to memory. The Ministry of Personnel and the Ministry of Revenue were not in the habit of proactively providing a newly appointed official with intelligence on the local area. For county magistrates, it was worst of all — they could only go to the Ministry of Personnel to collect a document during evaluation periods. Getting into the imperial palace required a name on the palace register; without that registration, even getting through the Ministry of Personnel’s front door was difficult, let alone asking detailed questions. If they were lucky, they got an address and a rough sense of whether the county was upper, middle, or lower class — and that was about all.

At the prefecture and sub-prefecture level, those officials governed larger territories and held higher ranks, and the prefect in particular had an audience with the Emperor before taking up his post. Given the weight of their responsibilities, the court would not send them in completely blind — it would provide at least some information. How specific that information was, and how much of it was practically useful, depended on the individual.

Zhù Ying and Master Xue proceeded to exchange information with each other, taking half a day before they’d said everything there was to say.

Master Dong then finished his questions about tax grain and revenues. Zhù Ying said, “Fulu County’s tax arrears — I’ve managed to clear them. The other sub-prefectures and counties were all in better shape than Fulu County.”

Master Dong then asked with great courtesy, “We’ve heard that Magistrate Zhù has had great success in growing winter wheat. Could you share any insights? And is there anything that requires the prefectural residence to handle?”

Zhù Ying said, “It will need Prefect Leng’s authority to bring pressure to bear on the various sub-prefectures and counties, and to have them proceed in proper sequence.” A single county magistrate didn’t have the power to coordinate so many competing interests. Wheat growing nominally fell within her jurisdiction, but behind the growing itself lay irrigation, labor, draft animals, seed grain — any one of these could become a point of contention.

The prefect’s authority was needed to apply pressure and coordinate matters, otherwise she could report that wheat could be grown and others could simply respond that local conditions were different, that it couldn’t be done in their area, and quietly trip her up. And then there were those who were particularly ambitious — who might rush headlong into planting on their own, then promptly tax the winter wheat harvest, pocket the political achievement, and walk away, leaving behind a gaping deficit, with annual rent and tax obligations piling up on the local people’s heads year after year — that would be a true disaster for the area.

Leng Yun said, “How can we not collect taxes?”

Zhù Ying said, “Harvests vary from year to year — good years and bad. You need to plant for several years and take an average. Otherwise you’ll also cause problems for the court. If you report a ten-bushel tax in a good year, where will you find those ten bushels to hand up when there’s a bad harvest and collections drop to five?”

Master Dong hastened to explain to Leng Yun, “In a good year the tax is ten bushels; in a bad year, rents may be reduced to only five bushels. When you file the official report, you take the average. Otherwise, when a disaster year hits, where will Your Excellency find enough grain to hand up to the court?”

Leng Yun said, “All right, let it be so.”

The remaining advisors also took turns asking various questions, and in answering them also responded to several questions Zhù Ying raised in turn. She ended up making a rough mental note of the situation of officials in the various sub-prefectures and counties, and also learning something about the prefecture’s population figures. She thought: This wasn’t a bad exchange for me either. Prefect Leng doesn’t take much interest in governing, but his advisors seem reasonably capable. I’ll just spend these next few days giving them a briefing on local conditions, and then I can go back to minding my own affairs.

Master Xue and the others thought to themselves: No wonder he earned such a capable reputation in the capital — and why the Marquis specifically urged us to consult him on anything we couldn’t decide in time. He truly is reliable! What ordinary county magistrate would pay such close attention to affairs across an entire prefecture?

Both sides were reasonably satisfied. At last, the several advisors all clasped their fists together and said Zhù Ying had worked hard. Zhù Ying said, “You flatter me. Your Excellency, this subordinate will take her leave. Please also rest early — there’s still the road ahead tomorrow.”

Leng Yun had been forcing himself to stay alert throughout. It was only at the prospect of it ending that he showed a flicker of real energy. “Good! So be it!”

A manservant of Leng Yun’s rushed up to see her out. The two walked outside, and the manservant said in a low voice, “Sanlang, please don’t take offense. Our Young Lord has had a terribly hard time on this journey — he’s only a little short-tempered because of it.”

Zhù Ying said, “I spent years in the Court of Judicial Review — I know full well how His Excellency has always treated me. By the way — these advisors — what are their backgrounds? Where are they from?”

The manservant gave a quiet little laugh. “They have genuine ability, that’s real — but each has a certain flaw. Master Xue looks sharp, doesn’t he? He can hold his own in a conversation with you, but just say one thing to him: ‘Let me test you.’ And he crumples.”

Each of them had a small personal failing. Master Xue couldn’t handle examinations — whenever there was a test of any kind, he inevitably got a stomach ailment. That in itself was nothing too serious, because someone who recognized his talents could simply recommend him for a post without putting him through an exam. The truly fatal part was that he couldn’t even hear the word “test.” Being an official also involved performance evaluations, and the moment a supervisor who outranked him and had the authority to evaluate him gave him a formal “assessment,” he would go light-headed and drenched in cold sweat.

Master Dong had a flaw in his personal history — though his practical abilities were solid, he couldn’t even get a clerking post the way someone like Qi Tai had managed.

Zhù Ying asked about the native places of each one, then said to the manservant, “You’d better go back and attend on His Excellency — he won’t want to find no one there.”

……

The fact of Zhù Ying meeting with Leng Yun couldn’t be hidden from anyone. She’d returned very late, and the next morning they were back on the road early. Leng Yun was again in his carriage, while Zhù Ying and the others rode on horseback alongside. Colleagues soon came spurring their horses over to ride abreast with her and probe for information.

The first to come was not Zhù Ying’s direct superior but the prefectural judicial aide-de-camp, Kang Hua. Zhù Ying and he had something of a prior acquaintance — Kang Hua had once been sent by Prefect Lu to Fulu County and attempted to protect Zhù Ying.

The two exchanged nods. Kang Hua said, “As expected of you, Magistrate Zhù! You have a prior acquaintance with Prefect Leng as well?”

Zhù Ying lightly replied, “I was originally posted to the Court of Judicial Review myself — has Brother Kang forgotten?”

“Oh! Of course, of course!” Kang Hua said quickly. “You’ve finally come out on top, my friend — after all your hardship, the good times are arriving. The rest of us, though, have to start all over again feeling out our new superior.”

“Prefect Leng is a nobleman’s son — he’s not harsh with people.”

“I hear His Excellency has quite a formidable background?”

“Well, yes — he is Lord Leng’s son.” Zhù Ying couldn’t exactly praise Leng Yun for exceptional ability — one compliment too many and the truth would show through — so she could only hint to Kang Hua: don’t try to play games with Leng Yun, because there are people standing behind him.

Throughout the journey, people came one after another to inquire, and Zhù Ying spoke quietly with each of them. In the evenings, Master Xue and the others also called upon her to visit and discuss matters.

When Master Xue and Master Dong came to see her alone, they presented an entirely different manner from what they had shown in Leng Yun’s presence. Once guest and host were seated and Zhù Ying had ordered tea to be served, Master Xue said, “Yesterday’s conversation was enormously valuable. Your Excellency is stationed in Fulu County and cannot easily be away — would it be possible to request a written document laying out the relevant matters? Something we might consult when there are things we don’t understand?”

Zhù Ying smiled. “Master Xue surely knows that some things cannot be committed to writing. Otherwise this subordinate would be guilty of ‘unauthorized commentary,’ you gentlemen would be accused of ‘manipulation,’ and Prefect Leng…”

Master Xue let out a sigh. “In that case, I suppose there’s nothing for it.”

Master Dong stroked his beard with a gentle smile. “There must be some sort of plan for the winter wheat business, at least?”

Zhù Ying smiled back. “It’s nothing but drawings in the air. I have no idea how much land Sicheng County has — I’m in the dark myself — so how could I devise a plan? Master Dong, between the few of us speaking about this in the abstract, it amounts to nothing. We’d need local officials to report the real situation before there’s anything to say.”

Both sides smiled with a gentle, measured ease, each now understanding the other somewhat better.

Meanwhile, the deputy prefect and the others rose early every morning, lining up outside Leng Yun’s door to wait upon him. When meals came, they waited for Leng Yun’s signal. If Leng Yun wanted to host a banquet, they joined him; if Leng Yun wanted to eat alone, only then did they go to eat themselves. Even before going to sleep at night they made one last visit to pay their respects — they were practically treating Leng Yun as their own father.

On the first day, Leng Yun found it irritating and strange. By the third day, he was sighing to his manservant, “So this is what it means to hold authority over a region! The dignity of it!”

The manservant played along and flattered him: “Young Lord had that dignity all along! It’s simply who you are!”

Leng Yun thought to himself: No wonder Sanlang said he was being warm. He’s comparatively friendly.

They traveled another five days. The landscape grew slightly more prosperous, and Leng Yun’s spirits lifted a little, though he then began to complain about the heat. By the time they finally arrived at the prefectural city, he first stayed in the relay station and sent people to prepare the prefectural governor’s residence properly. Only the next day did he move in.

Prefect Lu had kept the prefectural governor’s residence in immaculate order. The buildings had been under continuous maintenance, and the grounds were lush with flowers and trees — a sight that calmed the mind. Even Leng Yun could not help but settle somewhat. Not knowing how to function as a prefect, he summoned everyone together and said, “I have just arrived and am entirely dependent on you, my distinguished colleagues, to work together in harmony.”

The deputy prefect and the others murmured their assurances, not daring to be careless in the slightest. In the days of travel, Leng Yun had looked for all the world like an ordinary nobleman’s son, with no particularly outstanding abilities on display — yet they dared not let their guard down.

Kang Hua thought to himself in particular: Someone like Zhù Ying — who was never hesitant to push back against Prefect Lu — had been remarkably well-behaved in Prefect Leng’s presence. Clearly Prefect Leng was not to be trifled with. What arriving official doesn’t say a few obligatory things? Who doesn’t talk about “working together in harmony”?

None of them took the words at face value. Anyone who had risen to the rank of prefect must have some ability, mustn’t they?

Everyone was on guard against Leng Yun springing something unexpected on them — afraid he was first giving everyone free rein, quietly observing, waiting for people to relax and expose a weakness he could then use to put them in their place and establish his authority. Such cunning superiors were not uncommon at all.

Everyone remained scrupulously deferential.

Leng Yun had been an official since his youth, and over a decade of gradual promotion had accustomed him to being respectfully fussed over by subordinate officials and clerks. He took no particular notice of their deference, only finding it rather dull. He soon claimed he was tired and kept only Zhù Ying back to talk.

He was still thinking about those “pits.” When Lord Zheng had left the Court of Judicial Review, the pits had been truly vicious — so bad that after Dou took over as Chief Justice, he’d spent more than a year unable to do much proper work, spending all his time wrestling with the messes Lord Zheng had left behind.

Zhù Ying had made all the arrangements for Fulu County before setting out, and had no urgent reason to rush back. She patiently assisted Master Xue, Master Dong, and the others in reviewing documents, auditing accounts, and completing the formal transfer of duties — whatever Leng Yun asked her to help with.

Leng Yun spent his days resting and recuperating, while asking daily about the progress. At last, Zhù Ying and the others came to report to him.

Leng Yun asked, “How does it stand?”

Master Xue and Master Dong both said, “Prefect Lu was a capable man.”

Master Dong said, “Looking at the financial and grain accounts and the storehouses and the like, there appear to be no major problems. From the end of last year to the start of this one, the prefecture had no chief official in place, and it was inevitable that those below would do a little creative accounting. Since the period was short, this subordinate can get to the bottom of it without too much difficulty.”

Master Xue also said, “Official orders are getting through.” He glanced at Zhù Ying — she was the one exception — but Zhù Ying conducted her own affairs properly herself. So on the whole, things were very good. From the back-and-forth documents reviewed, the local officials at each level also seemed reasonably competent, and the matters reported were grounded in practical affairs without too much empty talk. Prefect Lu had also gone on inspection tours himself from time to time, taking a personal interest in agriculture, and had established a rule requiring subordinates to come and report in person twice a year — by any measure, this was an efficient and conscientious man.

No wonder Prefect Lu had been promoted to serve as prefect over a rich and prosperous upper-level prefecture!

What Prefect Lu had left for Leng Yun was not a pit, not a mess to clean up — it was a winning hand, clean and complete.

Prefect Lu’s years of service in an outer posting had brought him considerable personal profit, but the prefectural treasury was well-stocked, and there were few places that owed arrears to the court. Fulu County had already settled its own debts with the court. He hadn’t squeezed the people so hard as to stir up widespread resentment. Over his years in office, the people couldn’t be said to be prosperous exactly, but the population hadn’t declined — it had even grown slightly — which meant no large-scale flight of refugees and no one freezing or starving to death in great numbers. Even longstanding accumulated bad debts were rare, and the few that existed were not serious.

The prefectural city was relatively prosperous; the remote counties were very poor — but that couldn’t be blamed on Prefect Lu. Those places were simply too far off the beaten path. The heavens hadn’t been generous to them; it wasn’t that Prefect Lu hadn’t tried.

Schools were running, student rolls were full, and every so often a talent or two could be sent up to the capital.

Leng Yun said, “Eh? How is it you said there would be pits? Was I just lucky — and don’t have to fill in my predecessor’s pits after all?”

Your successor certainly won’t be thinking that! Zhù Ying cursed silently. But aloud she said only, “I always felt something was off somewhere.”

Leng Yun stared at Zhù Ying, wide-eyed. “How so?”

Zhù Ying’s brow furrowed, then smoothed — she knew now where the pit was.

Master Xue had been watching her expression closely the whole time. “What is it?”

Zhù Ying shook her head. “It’s not in plain sight — it’s hidden.”

Leng Yun said, “Speak plainly.”

Zhù Ying said, “Your Excellency — the arrangement this subordinate left at the Court of Judicial Review — was it in good order?”

“Quite good!”

Zhù Ying thought: Nonsense! I left everything in order — but Old Zuo and Su Kuang still had to be able to hold it together. Old Zuo couldn’t hold it together, so Su Kuang seized his chance. Su Kuang had his little schemes, and that’s what brought him down. Prefect Lu left behind money, grain, and people — that part was sound, and it wasn’t the same as the Court of Judicial Review, which ran its own financial operations directly. Prefect Lu’s greatest legacy was establishing the norms that governed this prefecture.

Every official, with the one exception of Zhù Ying, was meek and compliant — dragons keeping low, tigers staying quiet. The officials of this prefecture were not all supremely capable, but none of them were thoroughly corrupt, brutal, or stupid. Those types had all been driven out by Prefect Lu. The worst of those who remained were people coasting through their days — limited in ability but reliably obedient. Prefect Lu had been capable enough to arrange everything himself, and they only had to follow instructions to produce decent results. As for those who were actually clever and capable of improvising, Prefect Lu had kept them firmly in hand as well.

Leng Yun lacked that skill. Leng Yun had neither the ability to carefully manage routine affairs, nor enough authority to “win over” every one of his subordinate officials and make them fall in line. For now it was still workable — Prefect Lu’s residual prestige still held — but once everyone figured out that Leng Yun wasn’t interested in managing things, just watch. These were all “capable people” who had been screened and retained by Prefect Lu. Once a superior couldn’t keep them in check…

Zhù Ying put it diplomatically. “Your Excellency — when it came to spring plowing, Prefect Lu used to make all the arrangements personally. How does Your Excellency plan to handle it?” Start from scratch digging up figures at the last moment?

Leng Yun said, “Damn it! So the pit’s right here! This is worse than having to fill in a money shortage! This is going to bury me alive!”

His moods came fast and went fast too. He let go of his anxiety readily enough and delegated without hesitation: “You all draft a plan. Weren’t you just saying spring plowing might be delayed past the deadline? Make it quick! We can’t be holding up the harvest!”

Master Dong said gently, “It needn’t fall too short. As long as the taxes still come in, the court won’t hold you accountable. The prefecture is far from the capital — the news won’t travel there. The court won’t find out. You’re new here; it’s only natural there would be some rough edges at first. Next year will be better. The people will go on getting by.”

Leng Yun shook his head. “That won’t do! Right — winter wheat! Oh, so that’s why one should underreport the harvest a bit at first and not rush to levy extra taxes. That’s sensible — once the wheat is planted, don’t go taxing it heavily right away.”

Zhù Ying thought: I suppose I ought to give him a helping hand.

She said, “The officials throughout this prefecture are still doing their duties reasonably well — don’t panic, Your Excellency. Let’s produce a plan quickly so the officials can all get back and make arrangements. Some sub-prefectures and counties have already taken care of it on their own. We just need to sort out the ones that haven’t started yet. These are all people who worked through the Prefect Lu years — their handling of practical matters is still dependable.”

Leng Yun said, “Good! You all draft the plan — I’ll apply the seal!”

Zhù Ying stayed on at the prefectural governor’s residence for a few more days. As an official who directly administered the people herself, organizing spring plowing was hardly beyond her. As long as she didn’t have to arrange something as complex as “the county yamen guaranteeing loans for renting draft cattle,” ordinary spring plowing arrangements were quickly drafted.

Once Leng Yun sent out the official documents, he let out a long breath, stroked his now-pointed chin, and said, “Governing a whole region — and to think it’s this much work! Sanlang, you’ve done real credit this time. How can I thank you?”

Zhù Ying said, “Your Excellency is joking. This is this subordinate’s duty — there is no question of thanks.”

“Don’t want to hear that! There’s no one else here — what’s all this ‘Your Excellency’ and ‘this subordinate’? What is there to be formal about?”

Zhù Ying said, “That simply won’t do. Your Excellency now governs a whole region — you need to maintain your dignity. Things can’t be the same as before, with all that easy banter.”

“There’s nobody else here! You’re just being like this because you learned it from Lord Zheng, and that’s not good. What will you do when you’re old?”

“I’m nothing like him,” Zhù Ying said. “And I couldn’t pull it off anyway. He never even opens his mouth to scold people — I couldn’t hold back.”

Leng Yun burst out laughing.

The immediate crisis was past, and his mood lightened again. He had people bring out the many things he’d carried from the capital, and there were shares for Zhang Xiangu and the others too. Leng Yun said, “I rather miss your parents.” He had met them — when Zhang Xiangu and Zhù’s father were in the capital, they still had something of a plain, unpolished charm, and it was precisely that quality that allowed them to say a few words to Leng Yun, a man who let nothing trouble him too deeply.

Zhù Ying said, “The next time this subordinate comes to report, I will bring them to pay their respects to Your Excellency.”

“Good. Ah — and why are you being formal again?”

“Practice, so it doesn’t slip out in front of others. By the way, Your Excellency — I notice that among your personal staff, there is no one from this area, and no one who knows the local dialect?”

Master Xue struck his hand against his arm in frustration. “Quite so — I’d forgotten that detail entirely.”

Leng Yun said, “What of it? It’s not as if I plan to socialize with them.”

Zhù Ying said, “At the very least, you should be able to understand what’s being said around you. I myself can not only understand, I can even swear in dialect. Your Excellency would really do better to learn a bit of the local tongue for convenience.”

Leng Yun waved it off. “Not necessary — I hate studying more than anything.” He had made up his mind. The “governing the people” side of things, with its thousand tangled threads, was something he genuinely couldn’t do well, and he feared making a mess of it. Better not to do it at all. Knowing the official language was enough.

This suited Zhù Ying’s plans perfectly. A minor county magistrate like herself could hardly manage the enormous affairs of the prefectural governor’s residence anyway. Master Xue and Master Dong were both capable administrators. As long as Leng Yun “governed through non-action” as the nominal chief official, she could go back and manage her own affairs. The current prefect combined with his advisors still fell short of Prefect Lu’s overall competence, but “holding the line” was enough.

She made one final request of Leng Yun: “I’d like to set up a Fellow Townsmen’s Guild — for the convenience of selling oranges. I’ve grown some excellent ones — I’ll send some up when I go back.”

Leng Yun smiled. “Oh? Not bad — oranges at this time of year? That sounds like something you would pull off. Go ahead — a guild is nothing like an official government office; just build it yourself.”

Only then did Zhù Ying take her leave of the prefectural governor’s residence and prepare to return to Fulu County. Master Xue seized a gap and came hurrying after her. “Sanlang — wait a moment!”

Zhù Ying stopped. “Master Xue, what is it?”

Master Xue said, “Sanlang, since you’re planning to set up a guild, could you perhaps select some local people who speak the official language?”

“The Master is remarkably perceptive!”

“Ah, you still have to know the dialect — even if you can’t learn it yourself, you need trustworthy people who can interpret.”

Zhù Ying said, “Let me send one of the people I brought from the capital over to you.”

“That is most appreciated.”

……

This time around, Zhù Ying had been away from Fulu County rather longer than usual, but the people of the county were not particularly worried.

Zhang Xiangu and Zhù’s father discussed Leng Yun, and both said, “Oh my, good days are coming!”

Xiao Wu worried that his place might be elbowed out by the Xiang siblings, yet felt that if Zhù Ying rose, he would rise too — and so was also a little pleased.

They all smiled and welcomed Zhù Ying home. Zhù Ying, showing nothing on her face, came back and asked after the accumulation of pending official matters, then returned to the inner quarters.

Zhang Xiangu was still smiling, and remarked, “How is it you’ve gotten a bit thinner again? What scheme are you hatching now?”

Zhù Ying said, “Don’t be too happy yet.”

Zhang Xiangu said, “Could Prefect Leng actually make things difficult for you?”

Zhù’s father pricked up his ears. “That can’t be, can it?”

“In the capital he was a Deputy Minister — and not the chief official, either. There’s more than just a difference in rank between chief and deputy — the whole mindset is different. It’s one thing to always be the wife who’s still a wife even when the mother-in-law dotes on her. Once you strike out on your own and are your own master — can it possibly be the same? After a while, the two of you come visit the prefectural city again. Mother, Father — keep your wits about you and treat him with the same respect you’d show Lord Zheng. Don’t see that smiling, casual manner of his and start joking around carelessly with him.”

The two elders’ happiness dimmed. Zhù’s father murmured, “After all, he’s a noble person!”

Zhang Xiangu said, “Are you sure you’ve read him right? Maybe he doesn’t mean anything by it and you’re just being paranoid after what Prefect Lu put you through.”

Zhù Ying shook her head. “I’ve earned more from reading fortunes than the two of you put together.”

Leng Yun was no longer calling her “wicked child.”

Zhù Ying most hated anyone who tried to play the father figure with her — but when Leng Yun had presumed to put himself a generation above her and insisted on being her “uncle,” he’d actually had the smallest measure of real uncle-like protectiveness about him. Reliable or not was another question, but there had genuinely been a protective impulse there.

This time, he hadn’t called himself her uncle anymore.

If they had still been at the Court of Judicial Review, when Zhù Ying asked him if he had any idea what was going on, he would have said, “How do you speak to your elders, you little wretch?” — or else, “You unfilial child!” — and then chuckled and said, “I haven’t a clue — as long as you do, that’s enough!”

The warmth was still there — but it wasn’t what it had once been.

Zhù Ying watched her parents’ happiness turn to quiet gloom, and felt no great stir of feeling herself. She only made a mental note: from now on, she would need to keep her own position clearly in mind, and manage this chief official with even greater caution and care.