The “messenger” who came to Fulu County this time was nothing like Lan De and Jiang Zhi, who had come to Sicheng County before. He was an entirely ordinary, unremarkable courier — carrying just a touch of the capital’s characteristic pride, with a studied performance of friendliness on top of it. Set against Lan De as a measure, he came across as almost charming by comparison. He went first to the prefecture, announced the court’s reply to Leng Yun, and was then accompanied by a Advisor Dong from Leng Yun’s household.

Advisor Dong wore the robes of a junior eighth-rank official. The creases of his elderly face had deepened with his smile, and Zhù Ying said, “Congratulations.”

Advisor Dong hurriedly clasped his hands. “Same to you, same to you — I wouldn’t dare presume, wouldn’t dare — thank you, thank you.”

Zhù Ying asked after Leng Yun. Advisor Dong said, “Not too well — still busy with the harvest.”

The messenger asked, “How is the harvest cause for anything less than good cheer?”

Zhù Ying said, “When Advisor Dong goes back in a while, he’ll have to help Prefect Leng go over the harvest accounts again — the prefect won’t be getting any rest.”

The messenger said, “Local governance is genuinely hard work.”

Zhù Ying gestured toward the people below. “They work harder still.”

The messenger said, “And not for nothing.”

He and Zhù Ying exchanged a smile as they watched the group below celebrating with unbridled joy. Both had witnessed scenes like this many times before. They looked at each other and grinned.

Zhù Ying said, “Let them be happy. Your accommodation is already prepared — please.”

The messenger said with equal courtesy, “Please.”

The county seat of Fulu County looked considerably livelier than it had a few years ago. Many houses had been renovated, especially the shops along the main street. Some had been torn down and completely rebuilt; others had been partly renewed — fresh, neatly laid stone foundations here, the rotted lower half of a doorway replaced with new wood there. New buildings were all somewhat larger and more spacious than the old ones, everywhere giving an air of freshness and vitality.

Zhù Ying accompanied the messenger to the post station. The post station inside the county seat was quite different from those along the roads between towns — it was more like a guest house, where anyone of consequence was lodged. The post station master had developed something of an art in receiving guests: those arriving from the mountains were directed to rooms with an interior hearth; official travelers were guided to rooms where, when one pushed open the windows, a view of a small garden of rocks and slender bamboo presented itself.

The messenger was not particular. He said, “With the harvest in full swing, Magistrate Zhù’s proper business must take priority — I wouldn’t want to be a distraction.” The region was truly remote and small! The messenger had never seen Fulu County in its poorer days, and so had no sense of how much it had already improved; looking at it now, he still found it rather modest.

In a place like this, taking the locally-offered gifts and leaving was the best course of action. Fulu County had nothing famous enough to be worth lingering for, and staying too long would truly be tedious.

That evening, Zhù Ying hosted a banquet at the county yamen in the messenger’s honor. Those seated below as hosts were all people who had received commendations earlier that day: Qi Tai, Gu Tong, and Xiao Wu had all been granted ninth-rank honorary titles, the robes not yet made up — they were dressed in their finest ordinary clothes, seated at the lower end of the table. A number of county school students who had received reward money were also present. The local gentry, at such a gathering, had no part to play.

The messenger looked left and right and found not a single entertainer or dancing girl — nothing like the splendor of the prefect’s arrangements. He could only watch as everyone played at pitch-pot and other parlor games, with not a trace of any frivolous music. He glanced over at Zhù Ying several times, and meeting her puzzled gaze, found himself too embarrassed to ask outright for what he wanted — afraid she would rebuke him on the spot.

Since leaving the capital, Zhù Ying had become modestly famous once more — this time, thanks to Lan De. Upon returning to the capital, Lan De was still seething with frustration. Zhù Ying and Leng Yun had obtained commendations for their subordinates — three ninth-rank honorary titles for Zhù Ying’s people, one eighth-rank for Leng Yun’s Advisor Dong. Neither Leng Yun nor Zhù Ying had seen their own ranks elevated. As for the imperial messengers Jiang Zhi and Lan De: Jiang Zhi had been assigned from the outset to be posted away from the capital, and upon his return was appointed as a Deputy Governor of Wan Prefecture — a promotion in rank. Only Lan De remained in palace service as before, with no change in position, rank, or duties whatsoever.

Leng Yun and Zhù Ying cared not at all about their own official ranks, but Lan De was consumed by anxiety, growing more resentful with each passing day — he had gotten absolutely nothing out of this! He could not figure out where things had gone wrong, and after blaming this and that, he settled on the conclusion that the case must somehow have been handled badly. He tried to keep his hand in it, but could not — his assignment had ended the moment he returned. The Emperor had no intention of leaving a minor eunuch to continue managing the case. The Court of Judicial Review and the Ministry of Justice both ignored him and proceeded methodically with their review.

At the Court of Judicial Review, Chief Justice Dou was highly satisfied with how Zhù Ying had judged the case — the evidence was clear, the citations from the statutes precise. While Chief Justice Dou himself had little room to add anything, there were still the consolidated cases: the “false accusation turned against the accuser” case involving Huang Shier’s nephew who had come to the capital to file a complaint, as well as the dereliction of duty, corruption, and bribery cases involving former Magistrate Qiu and other officials — cases that had emerged from the illegal private court proceedings. So it was not simply a matter of rubber-stamping someone else’s work.

With the Emperor watching closely from above, the case moved at remarkable speed — it had barely spent any time at the Court of Judicial Review before being transferred to the Ministry of Justice. Minister Zhong Yi of the Ministry of Justice was approaching the age of retirement, but his memory remained sharp; he harbored a profound and enduring resentment toward “wicked minor clerks.” The clerks and low officials of Sicheng County who now fell into his hands had truly stumbled into a stroke of terrible luck. Zhong Yi felt only that the two previous stages had not been harsh enough on these functionaries; he reviewed the Huang Shier affair itself, confirmed the findings, and signed off.

No one paid any attention to Lan De. Even the three children he had so laboriously dragged all the way to the capital — when it came time to dispose of their case, no one asked for Lan De’s opinion either. The relevant upward report to the Emperor simply noted that all three had been placed in the charge of the Education Bureau.

From the responses of both the Court of Judicial Review and the Ministry of Justice, it was evident that both agencies considered the basic facts of the case to have been thoroughly investigated and the matter handled competently. While Zhong Yi had noted in certain details that the minor officials had been treated too leniently, there had been no deliberate favoritism. In short, the serious officials found the case to have been handled reasonably well.

Lan De muttered about it in the palace and was sternly reprimanded by Lan Xing: “You were sent on one assignment — ordered to observe. You’ve come back from observing, and that’s the end of it. Do you think you’ve become the mouthpiece of the Emperor’s own decrees? Do what the Emperor tells you to do. Reach beyond that and watch your fingers get cut off! Such a shallow pair of eyes — don’t say you’re my son!”

Lan De dared not speak of it again, but still could not accept that his “contributions” were being buried. Behind Lan Xing’s back, he began spreading unflattering things about Zhù Ying in various circles. “Blind to the bigger picture!” Lan De said, “She turned a perfectly good case into this mess — made everyone look bad in front of His Majesty.” He went on to enumerate Zhù Ying’s various acts: tearing down a building to fill a pit, building a waste pit from the rubble, “all that ruthlessness, and then going soft on three little wretches in the end — what sort of magnanimity is that supposed to be?” He even dragged Leng Yun in for comparison, arguing that “a prefect is a prefect for good reason — even a prefect has more sense than a county magistrate.”

Intent words from the speaker, and more intent ears on the listener. The messenger had arrived with his head full of the notion that Zhù Ying would be difficult to deal with. Knowing this, he decided not to seek any “special favors” — better not risk having a “rigid official” tell him to his face that an imperial envoy had no business being lecherous.

He also observed carefully and found that Zhù Ying seemed completely unaware that entertainers were supposed to accompany a banquet, and not one of her subordinates showed the slightest trace of unseemly behavior. At the end of the meal there were a few women present — one dark-complexioned, another plain-featured, and one whose face was fine-featured but whose expression was one of cold indifference, as if she disdained everyone around her. The messenger glanced at her once and looked away — that was the coroner. Even if she were willing to drink with him, he would not have wanted to.

The messenger had no idea that the reason Zhù Ying had not provided him with entertainers was simply that Fulu County no longer had any official courtesans. Those who could be released had been released; a few with nowhere to go had remained, their establishment quietly converted into a wine-shop. When the county needed music — for rain prayers, temple ceremonies, festivals — these women would be called upon to fill the role.

With no other choice, the messenger played the part of an upright gentleman, drinking from the cup poured by a page boy, listening to the poems composed by the county school students — of indifferent quality — and finally joining them all at pitch-pot. Zhù Ying had several trays of gold, silver, and bronze coins brought out and announced: “Prizes for the winners.”

Everyone deferred to the messenger, allowing him to take the first and largest share, while competing among themselves for the rest. Zhù Ying stood aside with her hands folded in her sleeves, watching. When she had seen that the messenger had pocketed a considerable extra sum and was well into his cups, she invited him to retire for the night.

The messenger, in a warm haze of wine, said, “Magistrate Zhù is a touch old-fashioned, isn’t she, ha ha ha ha.”

But still not one single entertainer had appeared for him.

The messenger’s purse was full, the decree had been delivered — nothing more to linger for. He did not return to Leng Yun’s post but instead set off directly for the capital with his party. Advisor Dong stayed on in Fulu County for two extra days, making arrangements with Zhù Ying: “When you go to the prefecture to deliver the grain, make absolutely sure to bring the wheat seeds.”

Zhù Ying said, “I won’t forget.”

Advisor Dong was in high spirits, well aware that Zhù Ying had helped him along his path. He was both gracious and warm, and the two of them had quite a good conversation. Advisor Dong also inquired about the harvest totals in the two counties, then stayed no longer — it was time for him to get back and keep watch over things at his end. Zhù Ying asked, “How is Advisor Xue getting on?”

Advisor Dong shook his head and sighed. “Not this time.”

Zhù Ying said, “I rather thought so — what I submitted to the court wasn’t fully approved either. Good things are worth waiting for — what’s meant to come will come.”

“It’s just a bit unsatisfying.”

Zhù Ying smiled. “There will come a time when it feels satisfying.” She also sent Advisor Dong off with a large red envelope to celebrate his good fortune, and saw him on his way.

Even with the harvest taxes not yet fully collected, the whole county was growing livelier by the day.

Zhù Ying had a tailor brought in to make a few new official robes, called the three men forward, and gave each of them one. All three accepted their robes with great joy.

Qi Tai was still floating in a daze and could not quite believe it was real. He was the first to receive his official appointment papers. His daughter had gone over the family’s belongings eight times already, planning out a proper banquet — first for Magistrate Zhù’s household, then for Magistrate Zhù’s servants as a separate occasion, and finally for everyone at the yamen. He had not yet come back to himself.

He received the official robes, holding them in both hands with a dreamy smile: “Magistrate — er — this, this is — it’s too much, hm hm, we agreed on four sets of seasonal clothing earlier, and official robes were not part of that.”

Xiao Wu, holding his own set and having been on the verge of being locked in a dark room by Zhù Ying for getting too full of himself these past several days, cut in: “Hey! Wake up! You’re an official now! These are a personal gift from the magistrate! This has nothing to do with any ‘agreed price’!”

The boy knew how to talk. Zhù Ying decided to hold off locking him up for another couple of days. She had sought honorary titles for them rather than substantive posts, first because it was easier to obtain, and second because if someone of their background suddenly received a real appointment and got too full of himself, it was likely to lead to some frivolous misstep.

Of the three, only Gu Tong reacted in a normal fashion. He was also excited, but had not lost his head. Unlike the other two, who came from clerking backgrounds, he was a county school student from a local gentry family, who had come to follow the magistrate of his own accord — being an official was a fairly natural aspiration for someone like him. He smiled and said, “Senior Qi is a straightforward man.”

Xiao Wu said, “And what about me — Young Master Gu — am I not straightforward?”

“You are,” said Gu Tong, holding back a smile.

Zhù Ying said, “Go try them on and see if they fit properly — if they don’t, they can be altered. You three are honorary officials now; though you have no substantive post, you are no longer what you were before. Old Qi, Xiao Wu — you two are no longer my personal attendants. We’ll need to make new arrangements. If you want to seek a proper post, go to the Ministry of Personnel and get in the queue. If you’d like to go home and rest for a while before making plans, I’ll also give you travel expenses — you’ve worked hard all these years, and it would be inappropriate for two official-ranked men to go on serving as clerks in my household.”

Xiao Wu said urgently, “Magistrate! I still want to serve you!”

Qi Tai had finally come back to himself. He said, “Master — this isn’t what we agreed to. I gave you my word, and I intend to see things through! You’ve only just made a start in Sicheng County — if I leave now, won’t things just become harder for you?”

Zhù Ying said, “I’m a county magistrate — without cause, I can’t put the two of you to work. You can’t go on being honorary officials indefinitely.”

Qi Tai said, “I can.” The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like the best possible arrangement — following Zhù Ying, all he had to do was carry out whatever she set him to. No need to exhaust himself managing relationships with colleagues, no need to rack his brains pleasing superiors. How pleasant!

Xiao Wu also said, “Without the magistrate, who would know I even existed? And if I leave the magistrate’s side, what would I amount to?”

Zhù Ying said, “Think it over carefully, and then come and talk to me. It’s been years since either of you have been back to the capital. Old Qi hasn’t been home even once. And Xiao Wu — you’ve gone back only on official business. You ought to let your families share in a bit of happiness too.”

Both said they were not going. Zhù Ying said, “Don’t be hasty — think it over some more.”

She did not make any immediate arrangements for Gu Tong. Gu Tong was still her student, and students existed to be worked like pack animals. Honorary official or not — he still had to get things done. The autumn harvest collection in the villages was still underway and needed him.

Gu Tong also understood this tacit arrangement. He took his robes, gave a grave, respectful bow, and said, “Teacher, my family has prepared a modest meal — please honor us with your presence.”

Zhù Ying said, “Of course — I will be there.”

Qi Tai suddenly remembered that his daughter had been preparing something for days and quickly said, “Master — I have something at my place as well, I do.”

Xiao Wu said, “Same for me, same for me.”

Zhù Ying said, “You? First settle yourself down, have a proper gathering with your own companions, and then come find me.”

“Yes.”

Zhù Ying sent them all home first. She had already made contingency plans: if Qi Tai left, the Xiang siblings could fill in temporarily. For Xiao Wu’s duties, Tong Li and Tong Bo could step in at Fulu County. It was just a pity that Hou Wu’s official status had not been approved. She could not keep relying on the same few people indefinitely — she still needed to keep scouting for talent.

She pulled a sheet of paper toward herself and began writing notes. She had barely filled two pages when Qi Tai came back, his daughter following behind him.

Qi Tai’s daughter rarely came to the front offices, and when she did, it was always for a reason. She entered the room, gave a bow first, and then said, “Magistrate, I have something I’d like to ask of you.”

Zhù Ying looked at her. In the beginning, she had thought that Miss Qi, with her family background, might be naturally gifted with numbers — having a woman manage the accounts would have been quite useful. But it turned out the girl had no particular talent for it, while excelling instead at cooking and managing the household. That idea had been quietly set aside.

Miss Qi understood her father far more clearly than he understood himself. She knew perfectly well what kind of man he was — an official? He’d be tricked out of his position before long. He had nearly lost their family’s hereditary clerking post through sheer ineptitude. Becoming an official had never once crossed her mind in his case; this appointment was something Zhù Ying had handed to him outright. Which meant they had better treasure it.

Since Zhù Ying was this reliable, and their family had its particular skills, why not simply stay and keep working with her? With any luck, there might even be further promotions down the line. If they left Zhù Ying, who could say what the future held?

Miss Qi had also thought ahead to her own eventual marriage and what would happen to her father then. After hearing what Qi Tai had said, she set aside the question of throwing a banquet. “You finally got something right for once — how could you come back without settling things with the magistrate first? That makes it seem like you were just being polite for show. Come on — let’s go settle things properly with the magistrate now.”

She grabbed Qi Tai and brought him out to the front offices. “My father has received an official appointment thanks to the magistrate’s generous assistance, and now draws a salary of his own. It would not be easy to return to the capital, so we would like to ask that you continue to take us in. We’ll go on doing exactly what we were doing before — not a word of complaint. Just think of us as guests staying here — we’ll consider it paying you rent!”

Not as hired accountants, but as guests — is that all right? Think of us as travelers who happened to like it here and chose to stay, and who happen to help out an old acquaintance with a bit of bookkeeping on the side — is that acceptable? With a salary coming in and the means to support themselves, there was no need to receive payment, so it could not be called employing a salaried official for private service — perfectly within the law.

Miss Qi had made up her mind and was determined to stay.

Qi Tai had already felt that leaving now, when he had just gotten an official post, would be ungrateful. Though he missed the capital, going back meant dealing with a pile of tiresome matters — so he said, “I cannot simply walk out halfway through. I ought at least to see the magistrate through this stretch. Once you’ve found a new accountant, Master…”

“What ‘Master’ now? You and I are both in service of the same court!”

Qi Tai blinked. Miss Qi murmured a prompt to him, and Qi Tai corrected himself: “Sanlang.”

Having redefined their relationship, Qi Tai went back with his daughter to discuss the banquet plans with a sense of closure.

The moment father and daughter left, Xiao Wu slipped into the room. There were no outsiders present, and he did not mind Xiang Le watching. He dropped straight to his knees. “Magistrate! Please, whatever you do, don’t send me away! I still want to stay by your side and keep learning. When my father sent me to serve you back then, he told me on the road that you were someone with real ability, and to follow you closely and use my eyes and ears well. Please, please don’t make me go back!”

He, Qi Tai, and Gu Tong — they had only now truly become what the official world called “mentored subordinates.” How could he possibly run away at a moment like this? He had to hold on tightly. With his abilities but no background or connections, waiting in line for a substantive post could take who knew how long. Following Zhù Ying was the right move. There was still much to be done in Zhù Ying’s household, and leaving now would also be ungracious.

Zhù Ying said, “Get up — what kind of display is this?”

Xiao Wu, tears and mucus both running freely, said, “If you don’t agree, I won’t get up! If I just go home like this, my father will beat me and my older sister will scold me. Just think of me as a man with nothing useful to do, who came knocking at your door. I’m a rough fellow, not like Young Master Gu or Young Master Zhao when it comes to reading and writing, but I want to keep learning from you.”

He and Miss Qi had arrived at the same conclusion.

“You are no longer just some ‘little man’ anymore.”

“I’ll do as Sanlang says!” Xiao Wu scrambled to his feet.

Zhù Ying said, “Change into your official robes — in a while, let’s go to the Gu family for a drink.”

“Yes.”

Qi Tai’s father and daughter had always had their own small separate residence. Now that Xiao Wu had an official title, it would no longer be suitable for him to squeeze into a room with Cao Chang and the others. Huajie had already arranged a private room for him, and furniture was being prepared as well. When Xiao Wu went to the back of the house to change, Cao Chang told him, “Older Sister Du came to say that A’Niang wants to have a new room fixed up for you.”

Xiao Wu smiled without stopping. “Hey, A’Niang is too kind to me.”

Cao Chang said, “You’re an official now — it’s different.”

Xiao Wu edged closer with an air of intrigue. “Let me tell you something — don’t keep to yourself so much. Get out there more. That’s how opportunities come.”

Cao Chang hesitated. “I…” He still had no desire to become a constable or a clerk — to do official service and work his way up through promotions.

Xiao Wu shook his head and stopped trying to persuade him, gathering his own belongings and packing them up before going out to help with the move. Tong Li helped carry the furniture, and seeing him, laughed. “Xiao Wu Guanren — you don’t look much like an official now!”

Xiao Wu said, “You’re teasing. Our magistrate doesn’t go around being too lazy to lift a finger either.”

Once the room was moved into, Xiao Wu lay back in it with great satisfaction. He lay there thinking about how to find an opportunity to hitch along with some document carrier or courier and get word home to his family.

In contrast to those two, the commotion at the Gu family was on an entirely different scale.

Gu Tong had talked himself hoarse before managing to prevent them from making a scene while the messenger was still in Fulu County. Gu Weng had barely given the harvest a second thought — he held out until the messenger left, then threw himself into celebrating with abandon. First he consulted Chief Secretary Guan on how official robes should be made, and asked about the proper bearing and conduct of an official.

Then he went home and planned to commandeer his tenants after the harvest to renovate the house. The family’s first official — not counting the legendary Yellow Emperor ancestor they claimed many hundreds of generations back — could not go on living exactly like ordinary people. Oh, right — they needed to worship the ancestors! Had to visit the graves! Had to host a banquet! Ah! And the genealogy — add his grandson’s official title right now!

Of course, the very first order of business was to set off a string of firecrackers at full volume.

He was bristling with excitement and very much wanted to spend a large sum of money. Gu Tong found this entirely unbecoming. He dragged a chair to the door of his grandfather’s bedroom and planted himself there, blocking the old man in, and said, “If you’re going to be this undignified, just don’t go out! Look at Teacher — he’s a sixth-rank official, and have you ever heard him say a word about it? Has he worn his imperial-bestowed crimson robe every single day? If we carry on like this, the magistrate will think less of us. I’m not done yet — I want to go further! I refuse to let joy carry me away like this.”

Gu Weng laughed and scolded his grandson for being impertinent, but he did not raise his walking staff to strike him. He looked at this grandson with kindly eyes and the longer he looked, the more he felt the boy was truly delightful.

“Fine, fine — we’ll do it your way! But there still has to be a proper celebration!”

With Gu Tong restraining him, Gu Weng contented himself with hosting a banquet — an open flowing banquet running three days, comparable in scale to the feast held when Gu Tong’s father had taken a wife. The family of Gu Tong’s maternal grandfather also came, and the two in-law families kept admiring Gu Tong more the longer they looked at him. Invitations were also scattered far and wide.

Gu Weng personally delivered an invitation to Zhù Ying.

“Without you, there would be no today for our family, and certainly no today for Gu Tong. I beg you to honor us with your presence.”

“Of course — I will be there.”

Gu Weng beamed with happiness. “I shall await your honored arrival.”

Zhù Ying said, “Now that Gu Tong holds an official title, the obligations on him have become even greater. His family must, without exception, abide by the law and conduct themselves properly.”

“Yes, yes.”

“Be happy — but don’t let it delay proper business. The harvest grain taxes and the winter wheat planting cannot fall behind schedule.”

“Yes, yes.”

Zhù Ying could see that he was far too giddy to hear anything properly, so she said no more. Gu Weng also circulated invitations to Xiao Wu and Qi Tai, both of whom said they would come. Gu Weng was in grand form — and once he learned that Gu Tong now held official rank with certain tax exemptions, he began transferring farmland and servants into Gu Tong’s name. He also sent a page boy to Xiao Wu as a gift, and a small maid to Miss Qi.

Xiao Wu coveted the privilege of having a personal attendant, then thought about how the magistrate herself still had none — only those two young “Liao” children, who did not seem at all like the kind one would keep as servants. The two of them shared a room, and Xiao Jiang sometimes came by to teach them official speech and to sing identification songs with them.

Xiao Wu steeled himself and sent the page boy back — if the magistrate doesn’t have one, how can I?

Miss Qi did need a personal maid. The two of them were living as guests here, and while she sometimes helped with cooking, the household laundry had been managed by Older Sister Du. That was no longer quite comfortable to accept. A small degree of personal arrangements was still necessary — and thinking of Older Sister Du’s situation, she followed the same model: drew up a proper employment contract with the young maid, treated it as a long-term hire. When she and Huajie were busy in the kitchen, the maid could also light the stove, and someone would now be there to wash the household’s clothes.

Miss Qi went to the Gu family’s banquet in high spirits. She sat at a lower position beside Huajie, sharing a table with the Gu family’s female relatives.

Zhang Xiangu was given the seat of honor among the ladies, surrounded by a chorus of flattery on all sides, with Gu Tong’s mother even addressing her as “Auntie.”

Gu Weng, fearing that Zhù Da might feel left out, specially arranged for his eldest son to bring along several relatives to keep Zhù Da company.

Outside, Zhù Ying was similarly surrounded on all sides, hemmed in by local gentry who, though she herself drank no wine, held cups, drained them in one gulp before her, and stared at her with eager, imploring eyes. Among them were those who now regretted not having taken a different path sooner, and those who privately cursed their own sons for not being as clever as Gu Tong in simply going to acknowledge her as teacher. But all of them felt — following this county magistrate, there was genuinely a future ahead — and one way or another, openly and covertly, they all tried to bring their own sons into the picture.

One said to Gu Tong: “Today is your happy occasion, and the magistrate is practically family — you go and attend properly to your maternal grandfather. We’ll keep the magistrate company here. Erlang — come.” And he pulled his own son forward, putting a teapot in his hands to keep Zhù Ying’s cup filled at all times.

Another brought up Zhao Su to make a point: “Since the magistrate arrived, our good days have come too. First there was the Zhao family’s eldest son going to the capital, and now there’s Young Master Gu here with his official appointment — who will be next, I wonder?”

Zhao Feng felt a faint bitterness. He had been the first in this regard — setting aside his wife’s connections to the magistrate, his own son had been the one Zhù Ying had sent to the capital. Since arriving there, Zhao Su had written two letters home, describing what he had seen of the capital. Though he reported only the good and none of the hardships, something in the letters hinted that the capital truly had remarkable people in it, and that he himself had previously underestimated a great many things; he also spoke warmly of how well Zhù Ying had treated him. He wrote that having entered the academy, his path to an official post in the future would be fairly smooth — but for now, he was still a student, with no official title.

And here was Gu Tong, who had come later — already wearing official robes!

Zhao Feng felt alternately reassured that his son’s path would lead somewhere better in the long run, and quietly envious at the sight of Gu Tong dressed in official robes. He forced a smile and said, “Why should any of us guess? We need only follow whatever the magistrate arranges.”

The gentry, taking his words as an opening, let their barely-concealed longing for official advancement spill out all over again.

Zhù Ying took it all in and said not a word in response. She drank a few sips of tea, then said, “I don’t drink, so with me here, none of you can really let yourselves go. I’ll take my leave first. You mustn’t stay too late, either — we still have proper business unfinished. Once winter comes and there’s time to spare, I’ll have everyone over again at the new year.”

The gentry lingered with regret as they clustered around to escort her back to the yamen, crowding her all the way from the Gu house until they were nearly at the yamen gate. Zhù Ying said, “All of you, go back. This is not a fitting sight. Gu Tong — you too, go back.”

Cao Chang silently followed behind her as the two of them returned to the rear quarters of the yamen. Inside, Hammer had not yet gone to sleep. The room was lit with a lamp, and on the platform nearby, Shitou was already sprawled out, snoring softly.

Zhù Ying pushed open the door. Hammer lifted his head alertly and swiped his hand across the table. Zhù Ying walked over and saw a smear of water he had not fully wiped away — the faint impression of characters still showing through.

“Can you read?”

Hammer drew a slow breath. “I — I’ve been learning the identification songs, and I — I just…”

Zhù Ying was pleased. “What characters can you write so far?”

Hammer dipped his finger in the water remaining in a bowl and wrote the character 聖, then 德, and continued to write out the first two lines of the identification song. Zhù Ying said, “Come with me.”

Hammer was tense all over, his footsteps as silent as a mountain cat. He moved carefully through the shadows and followed Zhù Ying into the study.

Cao Chang lit the lamp. Zhù Ying spread out a sheet of paper and called Hammer over. “Come here.”

Hammer walked over carefully. Zhù Ying looked at how he stood, then reached out; before Hammer could step back, she had already picked him up and placed him in the chair. She handed him a writing brush. “Try it.”

Hammer gripped the brush tightly. Zhù Ying ground a little ink for him. He leaned over the desk, dipped the brush in the ink, and pressed down — then beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He had never written with a brush before; he had no feel for the pressure, and the two strokes he made blotted the entire character he had intended to write. He glanced quickly at Zhù Ying, saw she was not angry, leaned in closer, dipped the brush again, and this time wrote the character large — clumsy, but the size of a bowl, and written correctly.

Zhù Ying said, “Well done. The characters — did Xiao Jiang also teach them to you?”

“When A’Niang took me out on the streets, she told me the identification stone and the identification song matched the same characters one to one. I thought they must be…”

“What is this character called?”

“Shèng.”

Zhù Ying smiled. “Your reasoning was exactly right.”

She lifted Hammer down from the chair, took another sheet of paper, and wrote out the identification songs from memory, one verse after another, then handed them to Hammer. “From now on, you won’t have to do it the complicated way — try it from this.” She also took out some paper, a writing brush, and ink for him. “Take these.”

A child carrying all of this found it somewhat heavy. Hammer tilted his head back and stared up at Zhù Ying.

Zhù Ying bent down. “Giving them to you means they’re yours. It’s late — go to sleep. Oh — did you have dinner?”

“Older Sister Du saved some food for me.”

“Off you go.”

Hammer broke into a smile that belonged entirely to a child his age. “Yes!”

The next morning, Zhù Ying rose early, and the people in the back quarters gradually woke one by one.

Hammer dragged Shitou out with him — Shitou was still rubbing his eyes — while Hammer had already splashed some water over his face and come running to hover around Zhù Ying’s doorway. The rear quarters did not admit adult men, but Hammer was young enough to slip by.

Zhù Ying had no personal attendant. Hammer rushed ahead and stretched up on his tiptoes to reach the washing basin. Shitou said, “You’re too short — let me.”

Zhù Ying said, “I don’t need anyone to manage that for me. Take care of yourselves first. Just focus on practicing your characters, and come ask me if there’s anything you don’t understand. For now, learn from that — when I have a free moment, I’ll look at your reading as well.”

Hammer asked, “I — I can?”

“Why on earth not?”

Zhù Ying took the basin back from him. “Wash your own face properly too, and comb your hair.”

“Yes!”

Zhù Ying left Hammer in her household to look after himself, while she returned to the work of wrapping up the harvest. Everything was going smoothly. Gu Weng, having finally finished his rolling banquet, settled down at last. Gu Tong changed back into everyday clothes and returned to being a student — still worked by Zhù Ying like a pack animal.

Though Qi Tai and Xiao Wu maintained that things were the same as before, Zhù Ying had quietly eased her grip on them a little. The remaining work fell to Gu Tong, Xiang Le, Xiang An, Tong Li, and the others.

With the three of them as examples before everyone else, the others were brimming with energy and drive. Xiang Le and Xiang An sought no official titles — they sought vengeance. Since Zhù Ying had proven herself honest in her dealings, they continued to trust her and work on her behalf.

Zhù Ying watched as Fulu County’s grain taxes gradually filled the storehouses, then went on another inspection tour of Sicheng County. In Sicheng County, she had left Chief Secretary Guan and Assistant Secretary Mo in charge. The two of them had been diligent and conscientious in these past days, and had managed the work with considerable competence.

Chief Secretary Guan grumbled, “That former Magistrate Qiu had no sense and no ambition — the granaries were in disrepair and he didn’t so much as lift a finger.”

Zhù Ying said, “Haven’t you seen the official dispatch? He’s no longer magistrate.”

Chief Secretary Guan sighed. “I’ve seen it — it’s just…” He wanted to say something about the unpredictability of fortune, and that it was pitiable in its way. Dealing with local powerful households could go either way. With Zhù Ying, it was manageable. With someone else, it would not be.

Zhù Ying said, “With a temper like that, how would you ever manage as a county magistrate?”

Chief Secretary Guan said, “I wouldn’t dare even think of such a thing…” He slapped himself on the mouth, then immediately lowered his hand, then stamped his foot. Zhù Ying smiled, patted his shoulder, and said, “Back to work.”

Before long, the land taxes for both counties were fully collected. Zhù Ying ordered Chief Secretary Guan to remain as acting overseer in Sicheng County, keeping an eye out for any constables brazen enough to levy additional charges on their own. He was also to confirm the headcount for those obligated to labor service.

She also went to check on the foundling home to see how the orphans and former slaves were faring. After Huajie and Xiao Jiang left, four women had been found to take over, each paid several hundred coins a month to look after the children in the meantime.

Two of them would be turning sixteen after the New Year. Zhù Ying planned to have them go work the fields. If they did not know how to farm, they could learn a trade — Sicheng County had a camp for transported convicts; she could try sending a couple of craftsmen to teach them. If that did not work, they would have to fend for themselves. She could not support people for their entire lives.

The rest of them also needed to start learning a trade.

Once she had made her rounds of both places, she set off with the grain convoy to rendezvous with her superior at Nan Prefecture, then continued to the prefectural seat.

The superior official at Nan Prefecture now regarded her with yet another new and peculiar expression. Magistrate Wang was also no longer as casual and free-spoken as before, though he still asked: “The winter wheat…”

“I haven’t forgotten. Here — I’ve brought the seeds.” This trip, in addition to the wheat seeds for Leng Yun, she had also brought some for Nan Prefecture and Magistrate Wang. From the survey tour she had done with Leng Yun, she had a rough sense of the scale; she had calculated based on the official field acreage and brought double the amount, leaving it to them to plant as they saw fit. She had also brought along a few experienced farmers.

Her superior smiled. “Everyone says you’re thorough — and it’s genuinely true.”

He accepted the farmers and the seeds with a smile. Zhù Ying pointed to the old farmers and said, “These are treasures — please don’t leave them cold or hungry. I’ll need them back.”

Her superior said, “Leave them here with me.”

Magistrate Wang also received his share of the farmers and seeds first, and smiled as he told his attendants, “Go bring a cart.” He had the old farmers and the seeds loaded onto the cart to be brought back to the county to prepare.

The two of them were in better spirits now, and walked along chatting with Zhù Ying. At times they spoke of farming and sericulture, at times of the case, at times of Leng Yun. Whatever they asked, she answered, and how much they were able to make of it was another matter.

The grain convoy traveled slowly, and they arrived after several days. In the prefectural seat, Zhù Ying received the usual treatment — deliver the grain first, then go pay her respects to Leng Yun. With the harvest done, she needed to discuss the winter wheat. While Sicheng County had not yet had a new county magistrate assigned to it, she needed to move quickly and get things in place, so there would be nothing to argue over later.

Leng Yun was still watching other people do all the work. This year’s autumn grain, as predicted, came in slightly less than the previous year’s. But Leng Yun calculated that the merit of having uncovered the concealed land would offset it, and things should be manageable.

This time Zhù Ying arrived with both people and wheat seeds in hand. Leng Yun was delighted. “Excellent, excellent! Perfect timing! Perfect timing! Wait — can we get it in the ground before I leave?”

“Leave?”

Leng Yun nodded emphatically. “I’m going to the capital!” Every year, one of the senior or deputy officials from each prefecture was expected to travel to the capital for inspection. This meant accounting for the year’s land taxes and local cases, presenting other accomplishments, and explaining the reasons for any shortfalls. If there had been natural disasters or other calamities, one would also go to plead hardship. More importantly, it was a chance to maintain relationships in the capital.

Zhù Ying said, “You only arrived less than a year ago — and now another long journey? Are you up for the road? The welfare of the whole prefecture hangs on this. Even if the Deputy Governor or Chief Administrative Officer had private reasons to avoid it, they wouldn’t joke about something this important.”

Leng Yun said, “No no no — you saw what that eunuch Lan De looked like. There are far too many people like him in the palace. I can’t be easy unless I go back myself.”

Zhù Ying said, “The commendation list you and I submitted wasn’t fully approved — that may not be entirely because he meddled. Getting everything approved in one go was never likely in any case; it depends on what those above are thinking.” She glanced at Advisor Xue. His name had originally been included on the list too, but in the end only Advisor Dong had been approved.

Leng Yun said, “I still have to go back once. Out of sight means out of mind. And as for you — why aren’t you concerned? Mustn’t let distance grow, mustn’t let distance grow!”

Zhù Ying said, “And the winter wheat — you’re just going to leave it?”

“I’ll watch them sow it before I go — I don’t know anything about farming anyway; someone who does is all that’s needed. The affairs of Nan Prefecture are yours to look after.” He said this with a mischievous grin. “No one in Nan Prefecture is going to make things difficult for you anymore.”

“What do you mean, ‘make things difficult’?” said Zhù Ying. “There’s already someone handling things. Prefect — are you really going in person?”

Leng Yun said, “My mind is made up!”

“What about the year-end meeting? And the plans for next year’s spring planting?”

Leng Yun rubbed his hands together. “I’ll come back early next year — just won’t dawdle on the road.”

Zhù Ying glanced again at Advisor Xue. Leng Yun said, “He’ll travel with me.” Advisor Xue was considerably younger than Advisor Dong, and Leng Yun had simply settled on using him as a workhorse.

Zhù Ying saw that arguing further was useless. “Very well, then.”

The grain had been delivered, the seeds left behind. Leng Yun wanted to keep Zhù Ying a little longer, but this time she did not dare linger too long. She said, “There’s no shortage of people at the liaison office — if anything comes up, just send word.” Her wheat still had a little time left to go, and the oranges were nearly ready to harvest!

Officials at the county level did not need to go to the capital every year. Leng Yun’s trip would incidentally bring along the performance reviews of the whole prefecture’s officials as well, and Zhù Ying was not worried about that. She still had Xiao Wu follow along to the capital to deliver her letters. Now that Xiao Wu was an official himself, he had no personal attendant; he simply rode along in Leng Yun’s convoy. Zhù Ying also arranged a proper carriage for Xiao Wu and impressed upon him to show Advisor Xue every respect along the way.

Xiao Wu was sharp. From how he had observed people treat Advisor Dong, he understood how to treat Advisor Xue — as a senior to be honored.

Leng Yun was not difficult this time either, and did not dare to waste any time. He made his way toward the capital in earnest, and the colder the weather grew as they traveled, the more he only cursed the weather — but never once changed his mind and turned back. When they stopped to rest, it was Xiao Wu who bore the brunt of his complaints: “Why did Sanlang only send you? Couldn’t I have carried the letter just as well? Are he and Qi Ge really that close?”

Xiao Wu smiled deferentially. “It’s because I’m heading home, so I was sent along for the errand. For something as important as your trip, Prefect — that’s for a great man like you; carrying messages is my job.”

He was careful not to mention anything about good tidings, so as not to rub salt in Advisor Xue’s wounds.

Leng Yun gave a small laugh.

Xiao Wu thought back to the days at the prefect’s office and found himself missing the time spent at Zhù Ying’s side. He wondered to himself: with me gone, who’s going to be pleased with themselves back there? Tong Li and Tong Bo, or Xiang Le?

He had no idea that what Zhù Ying was thinking about now was not at all about who should fill the position he had left behind.

Xiang Le came running in from outside. “Magistrate! Something may have happened.”

Zhù Ying asked, “What is it?”

Xiang Le said, “My older brother came back and told me — the trading post is not right. There may be trouble up in the mountains.”

The Xiang family always kept a close eye on affairs in the mountain settlements. The trading post had been far quieter than usual! The people coming down from the mountains were especially few, and those who had gone up into the mountains to collect goods had not come back out. Xiang Le’s older brother had gone to the trading post to take a look, felt something was wrong, come home, and reported it.

Xiang Le had come straight to Zhù Ying to tell her.

At this point, the autumn harvest was over. Winter wheat in Fulu County had been planted on two-thirds of all cultivated land in the county. But up in the mountains, it was still a relatively quiet season — there should have been no shortage of people available to come down and trade. Zhù Ying had introduced Su Mingluan to the methods of tea production, and ordinary tea leaves and tea cakes from the mountains had gradually begun to bring in some income. The mountain settlement would have little reason to abandon trading.

Which meant something had truly gone wrong. Zhù Ying listened carefully to his analysis, then asked him to bring his older brother over and questioned him in detail about what was different this time from before, and who had come down from the mountains. She learned that “it was the same people as last time, but with less goods, and they traded with no heart in it.”

Zhù Ying thought to herself: It’s here. The sworn brother must have passed on.

She said, “Tell Tong Li to go to the Zhao family and ask Zhao Niangzi how she is, and say I have a matter I’d like to discuss with the couple.”

“Yes.”