Wang Yunhe knew that Zhù Ying was the sort of person who matured beyond her years; since she had said she would not act rashly, Wang Yunhe let the matter rest for the time being.

Zhù Ying, having no powerful supporter, quickly changed her plans.

As soon as Liu Songnian said he was leaving, Zhù Ying at once apologized: “I have disturbed the two of you in your peaceful amusement.”

This was no easy time for anyone. The common people below were too occupied with their next meal to ponder great affairs; Wang Yunhe and the others, caught at the center of the whirlpool, were naturally exhausted in their hearts. Zhù Ying remembered that Wang Yunhe had a vision for changing the current state of things, yet even now there had been no sign of major reforms — clearly “the time had not yet come.” And she had gone and disturbed the one time he could properly relax with Liu Songnian. Zhù Ying quite voluntarily made to leave first, though at this point the two old men probably had no more heart for amusements.

Wang Yunhe said: “Why be so small-minded about it? Have you eaten?”

“Yes.”

“Then sit with me for another meal.”

Wang Yunhe had the midnight refreshments laid out. As a chief minister, his meals were perfectly respectable — nothing as extravagant and precious as a prince’s table, but fresh ingredients, well prepared.

While eating the midnight refreshment, Zhù Ying put forward no more topics. She mentioned her planned departure date; next year it would be Deputy Prefect Zhang’s turn to come to the capital, not hers. She would not come again until the year after. She told Liu and Wang that when she came next time she would bring delicious things to see them.

Liu Songnian said: “Don’t speak empty words — when the time comes, bring plenty!”

“Agreed.”

Wang Yunhe sat to the side, smiling — this was a rare moment of ease for him.

The refreshments finished, Zhù Ying and Liu Songnian both took their leave. Tomorrow they all still had court, and Zhù Ying was the better off — in a few more days she could go back to Wuzhou and need not rise early with the emperor every day. Wang Yunhe was more hard-pressed, still having to take turns with Zhong Yi and Shi Kun standing duty in the palace.

Liu Songnian and Zhù Ying, knowing of his weariness, saw it was nearly time and both bid him farewell.

Liu Songnian’s home was closer; Zhù Ying’s was slightly farther. Zhù Ying would see Liu Songnian a stretch of the way. Liu Songnian said: “What hour is it now? You see me off, I see you off — we’ll be at it all night without getting anything else done. Go on.”

Zhù Ying watched until he disappeared around a corner of the street, the light of his attendants’ torches fading with him, then spurred her horse and headed for home. By this hour the wards within the city had not yet gone completely quiet; outside the ward gates the main streets were empty.

With a pass, one could ride freely through the main streets at night. Zhù Ying and her people galloped home at full speed. Before they had gone far, a party emerged from an oblique angle, also carrying torches.

Zhù Ying reined in her horse and looked. In the orange glow of the torches, she saw a familiar face — Bian Xing.

Bian Xing had gone south to take up a prefect post the same year as she did, and this year she came to the capital, Bian Xing also came. Two years earlier, Zhù Ying had turned the tables and made things rather difficult for him. Bian Xing kept a clear account of these small scores, yet also knew Zhù Ying was not one to cross lightly, so after entering the capital the two had kept well away from each other.

Tonight’s encounter was purely accidental.

Zhù Ying raised her hands in greeting from her horse and said to those behind her: “Let us make way for them — let them pass first.”

Bian Xing, however, glared at her with naked hostility. Surrounded by his attendants, he came closer and closer. Zhù Ying could now see clearly the expression on his face — the old wretch was giving her a cold smirk right to her face.

Those behind her were indignant. Zhù Ying’s expression did not change; she waited patiently for Bian Xing to pass. She was heading due north; he was heading due east. Their paths formed a cross, and they would pass each other quickly.

As Bian Xing drew level with her, not only did he smirk coldly, he gave a cold snort: “Hmph!” Then he turned his head away and spat!

Zhù Ying’s villa attendants were furious. They all looked to Zhù Ying, waiting for a single word from her to tear this old dog to shreds.

Zhù Ying gave no such word. Facing Bian Xing, she drew out the long knife at her hip with a sharp flash — halfway out of the scabbard. The gift blade from Zheng Marquis was well maintained; half of its white, gleaming body shone in the torchlight with a bone-chilling glint.

Bian Xing choked on air. Terrified, he immediately whipped his horse and bolted! His attendants were caught completely unprepared; the whole party fell into chaos as they scrambled to follow him.

Several of the younger members of Zhù Ying’s party could not contain themselves and laughed aloud — whether or not Bian Xing heard it from a distance was hard to say.

—

Bian Xing had not heard them. But galloping home and looking back on it, he was still ten thousand times furious. He also realized that his panicked flight just now had been undignified, and that his sorry state had been witnessed by his attendants. He sat scowling and would not speak.

A young maidservant came over somewhat ingratiatingly and had just called out: “My lord—”

“Get out!”

The maidservant scurried off. Outside she said to the others: “He is still angry — don’t go in and provoke him.” The others moved off to keep a safe distance.

Once he had opened his mouth, Bian Xing began to talk more: “Yellow-mouthed upstart! Treacherous little man! Where were all of you just now? What is the point of any of you?”

His attendants materialized one by one and stood before him to be berated — inwardly thinking: you were the first to run.

Bian Xing scolded his servants for a while, then turned back to cursing Zhù Ying, calling her a scoundrel, a petty person, one who slanders others behind their backs, and so on.

This was an injustice to Zhù Ying.

Bian Xing had said plenty of bad things about Zhù Ying behind her back, and had also had designs on interfering in Hedong County, speaking carelessly and not stopping once he entered the capital. Zhù Ying had never deliberately gone around maligning him; she never missed an opportunity to not praise him either. But Prefect Lu was deeply displeased with Bian Xing.

Prefect Lu had already been unhappy when Leng Yun took over his old posting, and then along came Bian Xing. He had spent years building up that territory; back in the capital he had channels to learn what had happened to his former posting.

Bian Xing had not come south to benefit the people — doing a passable job was enough. He calculated the rice and wheat yields and decided that a portion of the land could now be used to grow sugarcane. Unlike Zhù Ying, who had fought for several years of tax exemption on the winter wheat and during those years had genuinely not been skimming much off that wheat herself — only recovering something like seed costs — Bian Xing was another matter entirely. Within five years, nothing needed to go to the court, but the prefect’s share could not be lacking. He also levied the sugarcane sugar tax, and still assessed the winter wheat by the total acreage of the old cultivated land — at which point he conveniently forgot that he himself had permitted a portion of that land to be converted to sugarcane.

Prefect Lu’s old subordinates still had some who remained in the area; through circuitous channels, Prefect Lu learned of some of this, and it caused him to say many unflattering things about Bian Xing behind his back.

Compared to Bian Xing, Zhù Ying appeared all the more clear-eyed and capable. Which made him feel even more that Bian Xing was useless, and prompted further unflattering remarks about Bian Xing.

Bian Xing had no idea that a predecessor two terms removed was looking down on him. Whenever anything went wrong, he put the account in Zhù Ying’s ledger. That was what had produced his behavior on the street tonight. Zhù Ying, for her part, had no knowledge of this complex history on his side; you are impolite to me, so I am not going to be polite to you.

Bian Xing, having been frightened out of his wits for no good reason, took ill the next day and told people he was sick; hoping that while visitors came to check on him he could broadcast the story of “Prefect Bian encounters Zhù Ying on the night road — the impertinent young thing draws a blade and alarms the lord” far and wide.

As it was, everyone was busy; he was ill for three days before anyone came to visit. Bian Xing was not about to let such an opportunity go and told the story of “Prefect Bian’s night encounter with Zhù Ying, who behaved outrageously by drawing a blade” in full.

So the next day before morning court, Deputy Prefect Pei specially pulled Zhù Ying aside at the palace gate and asked: “Did you run into Bian Xing?”

“Yes — at court every day, it’s impossible not to see him. Hmm? Is he not here today?”

Pei Qing said: “How is it that I heard, on some night, you ran into Bian Xing on the road and drew your blade to intimidate him? He has been reported as ill ever since.”

Zhù Ying was about to speak when she saw Xian Jing also walking over, saying to the two of them: “Chief Prefect, did you hear about this matter too? Zi Zhang — what happened?”

Before Zhù Ying could answer, Chen Meng materialized: “Third Fellow—”

In the distance, many of her acquaintances were watching her way; Prefect Lu’s step was drawing ever closer. Zhù Ying thought: Is that all there is to it?

She said: “What? He was frightened sick? How dreadful. I am someone who, when in the capital, begins to panic the moment a person glares at me. I only regret having no shield to hand. Had I known he would be frightened first, I need not have been afraid myself.”

Chen Meng burst out laughing. The others all said: “Provoking.” Anyone who had not previously intended to hit her was now getting an itchy hand.

Yet considering the history of grievances, everyone shook their heads and went their separate ways; the matter was unclear. Who that had experienced an assassination would not be on guard ever after? Drawing a blade was one thing — she had not actually swung it. Asking Zhù Ying to reconcile with the Duan family? Setting aside whether she had the heart for it, the Zheng family was right there. Without the Duan family bowing their heads to her first, Zhù Ying would give not an inch.

The last one remaining was Prefect Lu, who said: “Done is done — what is there to regret?”

“I am wrongly accused,” Zhù Ying said.

Fortunately, the court session was about to begin, which brought this small farce to an end.

—

For Zhù Ying, in a few more days she would be leaving; she would muddle through these remaining days and go.

Farewells with friends and family were mostly complete. She once again entrusted her few plots of land to Wen Yue, and also took out some money and asked him to buy more land on her behalf — in preparation for having more income when she returned to the capital. Two years from now when she came back, the household would necessarily have grown, daily expenses would increase, and she needed to plan additional income in advance. Additionally, there was the house itself: her own household was small, but she truly had many guards and servants. Her rank had also risen — when she had built this house she had not anticipated her official career moving quite so fast. A sixth-grade official’s house, housing a fourth-grade official, was somewhat unsuitable. Returning to the capital as a prefect, her rank would at minimum stay even; the court would also assign her additional “white clerks.” The current household could not accommodate them.

She needed to make preparations in advance — if not buying, then at least renting something long-term. Carrying large sums of money over long distances was inconvenient; she would use the rents stored with Wen Yue for now.

Using the guildhall’s exchange network would also work, but Zhù Ying felt that if she left this task to First Young Master Xiang, he would likely supplement the sum from his own pocket. Small matters were one thing, but for something like a residence or land — it was better not to do things that way.

She would almost be back herself; she stopped asking around whether people were willing to go south with her. She made one more round of calls, then went to the various offices within the palace compound to check for any outstanding official business requiring a final sweep.

Last, she had First Young Master Xiang send someone to look after the residence. Done.

She needed to leave early; along the way she would discuss with Prefect Lu the matter of transferring a person, then send an urgent official communication to the Ministry of Personnel, in hopes of catching this round of relatively concentrated appointments. She had to race to be in time.

Zhù Ying had her plans well laid. First she went to the Council of State. Wang Yunhe and Shi Kun were in; Zhong Yi had been on night duty and had gone home to rest after morning court.

Both Wang Yunhe and Shi Kun intended to call her back to the capital once her current term was up. Shi Kun said: “Once you leave, it will not be you who comes this winter, will it?”

“That is correct — it will be Deputy Prefect Zhang Jiong, who came in the previous year. Wuzhou has allied minority territory; the Chief Clerk and Commander-in-Chief are from three clans of five families in rotation and cannot handle the duty of going to the capital, so only he and I take turns.”

Wang Yunhe said: “Wuzhou has eight counties in two very different situations — mixed together so closely, I fear it will be hard to manage. You have the desire to gradually bring the allied counties into the regular register, but I doubt you can achieve that soon. An ordinary prefect could probably not handle such a situation; it would be better to split it apart.”

Zhù Ying said: “Then would the allied five counties form their own prefecture? What would be done about a prefect? If one false step is taken, they will fall apart; if they fall apart, trouble will follow, and whether the current situation could be maintained is uncertain.”

“Would they still take turns?” Wang Yunhe asked.

Shi Kun said: “Leave that for now. When you leave, do you have any recommendation for a candidate?”

Zhù Ying did not name anyone, but said: “I dare not speak presumptuously to the appointment of a prefect for a whole prefecture.”

“No one is asking you to decide — just your opinion.”

Zhù Ying said: “Wuzhou at its rank is not convenient for transferring in some of the more seasoned and capable prefects. It would have to be chosen from among deputy prefects and governors. Those I know are genuinely not many — it is hard to say. Only this much: the person must not go around making disruptive changes. Disruption elsewhere — the common people curse and bear it. In Wuzhou, disruptive changes on a large scale, and I am afraid of trouble.”

Wang Yunhe and Shi Kun assumed she was still brooding over the Shang Peiji affair, and both gave a mild laugh.

Shi Kun said: “Fair enough.”

In any case, from the pool of fourth-grade officials, nobody could be more capable than Zhù Ying, and simply following the established patterns without tampering would serve.

With the main business concluded, Wang Yunhe asked: “I seem to have heard that you ran into Bian Xing on the road?”

Zhù Ying gave a resigned little grimace: “I have already been asked about that many times this morning. We ran into each other; he gave me a murderous look. I am the one who was startled out of my wits.”

Shi Kun had a certain annoyance with Bian Xing; he was the person least fond of trouble, and Bian Xing staging this episode — not a big deal but irritating — at this late stage. Had he still not learned to read situations? His wits were not as quick as Zhù Ying’s, his heart not as resolute, and he still wanted to pick a fight?

Wang Yunhe said: “Be careful on the road.”

“Yes.”

Wang Yunhe said: “Until this year you had added only a few attendants to your escort. That too cavalier an attitude is not good — devote a little more attention to yourself. Establish more property, recruit more guards.”

Shi Kun also urged Zhù Ying to be careful about safety — in housing and in travel, make sure there were sufficient guards.

Zhù Ying said: “Yes. I will be more careful in the future.”

Zhù Ying left the Council of State, then called at the Ministry of Rites, the Ministry of Personnel, and so on. Of the Six Ministries and Nine Courts, she skipped places like the Court of the Imperial Clan. Grand Chamberlain Duan was currently serving at the Court of the Imperial Stud, and she avoided the Court of the Imperial Stud as well. But the Court of Sacrifices and Rites — previously, while Duan Lin was there, she had given it a wide berth; now Xian Jing was in charge, and she went to sit there for a while.

The Court of Judicial Review was also a significant visit. Several old acquaintances had left; those remaining told the new arrivals about “Little Lord Zhù.” Right up until she left the palace compound, the old-timers were still telling the newcomers about the good days of the past — how one didn’t need to buy New Year’s provisions oneself, how everyone in the household benefited, and so forth. Then another round of cursing Su Kuang.

Zhù Ying made a special point of speaking with the Left Assistant a while longer, asking him: “You are still here? Now that Lord Zheng has moved to the Ministry of Rites, why not make a change of post? Moving around helps one advance.”

The Left Assistant declared flatly: “I am not moving!”

Zhù Ying shook her head: “There are many vacancies outside, and the various local officials are not all at full strength. Staying here and competing with everyone is exhausting; if you go to the provinces for a posting, an opportunity might just come along.”

“I am old, I cannot move anymore. Let it be.” He had thought Zhù Ying was trying to pull him south — that was something he was not too willing to do. He had thought about entrusting his son to Zhù Ying, but thinking of Wuzhou being so far, he had abandoned the idea.

In the capital’s imagination, Wuzhou was growing ever more prosperous; perhaps some people would be willing to go there as prefect, but to travel three thousand li below county magistrate level seeking one’s fortune? That was truly dying for money.

Zhù Ying said: “Very well then. Take care.”

After doing the rounds, she also made the circuit of the familiar places in the capital she frequented, then notified First Young Master Xiang to have young Xiang Yu’s luggage packed. She also sent people in advance to the Court of Foreign Affairs to have the young ones prepare their things. Then she arranged the boats in advance — on an auspicious day she would depart.

First Young Master Xiang had long since been preparing.

In the old days, merchants traveling long distances preferred to ride along with an official party. Though a certain amount of courtesy gifts were expected, it saved on customs levies at checkpoints and was safer on the road. Now the official was his own prefecture’s prefect, and always easy to deal with — First Young Master Xiang had prepared to purchase some goods from the north and send people aboard a ship to sell them down south.

Convenient and profitable at the same time.

Even the things for Zhù Ying’s own passage First Young Master Xiang had prepared on her behalf.

Before departing, Zhù Ying still had to arrange one final audience with the emperor. Once that audience was done, she could leave.

This audience was simpler than all the previous ones. The emperor asked her nothing of substance — he offered broad encouragement to continue working hard in Wuzhou.

Zhù Ying likewise spoke in official terms, expressing her loyalty and pledging not to fail the imperial favor.

The audience over, there was nothing else. Zhù Ying returned home and announced: “The day after tomorrow we set out! Zhao Zhen, go and fetch Hang Qin — tomorrow we will all go together to see Prefect Lu off.”

Zhao Zhen and Jing Sheng went to the Imperial Academy. Meanwhile, a gift from the Guangning Prince’s household arrived. The Guangning Prince took little interest in managing affairs; it was Princess Zheng Ling who ran the household. She sent a eunuch and one of her own ladies-in-waiting, both with attendants. The princess was with child and resting; she was unable to come in person, which she deeply regretted.

The gifts were thoughtful and meticulous. Zheng Ling had selected not rare curios or antiquities, but for Zhang Xiangu, Zhù Da, and Huajie each had prepared a full chest of things — bolts of silk, medicines, fashionable jewelry — all things that could be put to use.

Zhù Ying said: “Please convey to the princess my sincerest gratitude.” She gave them each a red envelope, then asked a few questions about Zheng Ling and her husband’s health. Then she said to the lady-in-waiting: “If there is any southern goods you need, just send word — I will find them. Please don’t be shy about it.”

The lady-in-waiting was very pleased and curtsied: “Yes.”

—

The next day, Zhù Ying brought Hang Qin and the others to see Prefect Lu off.

Prefect Lu said: “Come next year we shall not meet; the year after, who knows where any of us will be. Each year at this time is when one can get to know fellow colleagues — don’t be shy about the bother.”

“Yes.”

Prefect Lu glanced at Hang Qin and said: “Your family — I will send someone to let them know.”

Hang Qin thanked him profusely.

Then came Prefect Lu’s acquaintances and others to see him off; Zhù Ying also caught sight of the Tang Prince household’s scholar Dai Ying and exchanged a nod with him. With Prefect Lu about to leave, he was very warm when he saw Dai Ying: “Next time I come to the capital, we must meet again.”

Chen Meng also came to bid Prefect Lu farewell. He had served as governor under Prefect Lu and been promoted afterward to prefect. He had a genuine chief minister for a father, so Prefect Lu could not put on airs or pull rank with him; the two got along well enough. Chen Meng was surprised to see Zhù Ying: “Third Fellow?”

Zhù Ying smiled: “It is I.”

The three of them — Prefect Lu, Chen Meng, and Zhù Ying — stood in a triangle, looking at each other, and could not help but smile.

Zhù Ying saw Prefect Lu off, then prepared to depart herself. The auspicious day did not fall on a holiday, yet those seeing her off were not few. Zheng Xi, who could make his own arrangements, came in person: “Go back and take good care of yourself. Everyone is waiting for you to come back.”

Zhù Ying was capable, and even when things were quiet she could stir up trouble — Bian Xing had been “ill” all this time. The thought of that was rather amusing.

Wen Yue could not come; Zheng Yi came instead and clapped Zhù Ying on the shoulder: “Third Fellow, rest assured — we are here in the capital.”

The former Court of Judicial Review colleagues could not come, but Chen Meng and Prefect Wu and other fellow provincials were there. Chen Meng said: “Parted today — who knows when we will meet again!”

Zhù Ying said: “With affinity we will surely meet again; with will there is a way.”

“Quite so!” Chen Meng said.

While the group was talking, another cluster of people converged on them. Chen Meng asked curiously: “Who is that? Are they looking for you?” At this time of year, many people were heading home and there was also the usual traffic of people leaving the city; Chen Meng could not be certain.

Zhù Ying looked over and said: “Oh — it is him. The eunuch of the Wei Prince’s household; his cousin by a common surname is exiled in Nanfu, now in Wuzhou.”

“The Wei Prince…” Chen Meng said.

“A household eunuch,” Zhù Ying emphasized.

Meng Hong had found out when Zhù Ying was leaving and came in person with a gift. Upon arriving, he first exchanged courtesies with Zhù Ying, and after saying a great many words of entreaty, he proceeded to greet Zheng Xi, Chen Meng, and the others. Through Zhù Ying as a conduit, he had naturally extended his connections to others — all handled with perfect smoothness.

Chen Meng said: “Flesh and blood separated by such a distance — it is truly heartbreaking.”

The assembled company sighed with feeling. Looking at Meng Hong’s fine appearance, several felt it a pity for someone like him to have become a eunuch.

In the end it was Zheng Xi who said: “Let us go — do not delay the auspicious hour.”

Only then did Zhù Ying swing up into the saddle and gallop away in a cloud of dust.

She was still going back by water. Unless there was urgent official business requiring speed on the road, the water route was a better choice than overland. Not far out of the capital, Su Zhe clambered out of the carriage: “Where is my horse?”

She and Lang Rui had been arranged to ride in the carriage; now she wanted to ride. Lang Rui also could not sit still and wanted to ride too. Out of the capital and onto a vast flat plain with wide, even roads — conditions the mountains at home could never provide. All five young ones were delighted and absolutely had to get their fill of riding before they boarded the ship.

Zhù Ying had people keep a close watch on them, especially Su Zhe and Lang Rui — falling from a horse was no joke.

Fortunately, after a few days they boarded the ship. Everything was arranged the same as on the way up; Little Wu’s space went to Hang Qin. Hang Qin would travel with them a few more days, then transfer from the water relay to the land relay, first go home to visit family for a few days, and then take up his post at Fulu County.

This place was closer to the capital than to Fulu County. From here to Wuzhou — less than two thousand li remaining — not close, but one could not call it especially far either.

Seeing that over these few days Hang Qin could ride well, took to the ship without much seasickness, and was in good spirits, Zhù Ying’s own mood was rather good. The young fellow had a strong constitution — she could put him to work properly.

Zhù Ying felt not the slightest guilt as she mentally compiled a long list of duties for Hang Qin — things like taking stock of the granary stores — and sealed them all in an envelope.

When she finished writing, the next relay station had also arrived. The young ones wanted to go ashore; counting Zhù Lian and young Xiang Yu, together with the five, there were now seven of them, and they were running wild on the deck.

A relay station courier came aboard to ask Zhù Ying whether she wished to disembark; the official circulars and documents were also down in the station’s halls. More supplies were being loaded onto the ship.

Zhù Ying had Hu Shijie and others accompany the young ones ashore to look around; she herself stayed aboard first to read the official circulars.

Opening them, she saw standing out in bold: Zhong Yi had died.

Zhù Ying read through the circular item by item. Besides the obituary for Zhong Yi, the rest were fairly routine transfers. The consequence of losing a chief minister would not yet be visible in the circulars over the course of a few days. Who would be the next chief minister was the item worth watching.

Zhong Yi had been in his seventies this year; his death was not entirely unexpected. Living to that age was quite a long life.

Zhù Ying thought for a moment, then began to write a letter, sealed it with her official seal, treated it as an official document, and went ashore to the relay station to have it dispatched to the capital. She and Zhong Yi had been acquainted well enough; it was best to offer condolences and a contribution for the mourning rites. As for a representative to send, First Young Master Xiang was not quite suitable — the students studying at the Imperial Academy were somewhat more presentable.

Having handled this matter, Zhù Ying called out to the young ones to board: “Stop running all over the place — once the ship sets off, anyone left behind cannot come back!”