With foreign guests present, internal conflict was not an option — Zhù Ying silently accepted Minister Dou’s arrangements.

The official named Tong from the Ministry of Finance was also suppressing his dissatisfaction. There was no particular reason; Luo Sheng had been overseeing this matter since the beginning of the year, and Zhù Ying had suddenly appeared and demanded to participate in the negotiations. No matter how friendly the Ministry of Finance’s relationship with her was, they could not help feeling a little displeased.

However, since Minister Dou had shown absolutely no sign of rejection, those beneath him found it inconvenient to make a scene, and could only grumble inwardly. Zhù Ying had noticed. Kun Da Chi had noticed as well.

Minister Dou was a busy man, and even if it were not year’s end, he would not personally oversee this matter. After exchanging courtesies with Kun Da Chi, he sat with him briefly, then spoke in a very warm and familiar tone: “There is already a trading post in place, so commerce between our peoples is hardly without precedent. As for the specifics of the transaction, let them negotiate it carefully.”

Kun Da Chi raised no objection, and said: “I would like to listen in. Once they have reached an agreement, I can make my decision. Your Excellency need not concern yourself with my presence — I understand that year’s end is a busy time, and that you must oversee the grain and provisions. When Your Excellency’s grain is secured, our transaction will proceed all the more smoothly.”

How considerate of him! He did not even contest the question of whether, now that Minister Dou had departed, the remaining officials were of a rank befitting of his status as a prime minister. And he was willing to open every door of convenience to help the agreement be reached. This was a negotiation, not a banquet reception. Given that he had already met Wang Yunhe and Luo Sheng, it was entirely reasonable for Zhù Ying to appear on behalf of daily affairs. Kun Da Chi was the prime minister of a “great state” — his rank was a point one might contest in a negotiation, not over hospitality.

Minister Dou cast another pointed look at Zhù Ying. She understood that he intended to place the entire matter on her shoulders. And indeed that was precisely what he had in mind: he judged that in this matter Zhù Ying was even more useful than the Vice Minister of Finance, and that a Lesser Chamberlain facing a foreign prime minister was not quite an insult to the other party. So he departed without the slightest hesitation, taking the Vice Minister with him. This left an official named Tong — the Ministry of Finance’s middle-ranking official — watching with his own eyes as both his superiors walked away, leaving him alone to simultaneously manage the neighboring state’s prime minister on his left, fend off the rival office trying to seize authority on his right, and still guard against the supervising secretary sent from above who was lurking behind him waiting to find fault.

Junior Official Tong was thrown into momentary chaos, and was not entirely certain whether he would survive to see this matter through. Fortunately, after a round of pleasantries, lunchtime had arrived, and he could rest. He was desperate to run back immediately and ask Minister Dou how on earth he was supposed to handle this — yesterday he had been given exactly one sentence: “Think thrice before acting; do not quarrel with the people of the Court of Dependencies in front of foreign guests.” And then what? What was he supposed to do next?

No instructions. Figure it out yourself.

The Court of Dependencies covered lunch, with food sent over from the Four Barbarians’ Hostel. The Ministry of Finance’s people helped themselves to a sumptuous midday meal, and rested a while in the old residence.

After lunch, Zhù Ying invited Secretary Wang and Junior Official Tong to come to where she was resting, and came straight to the point: “What Minister Dou said earlier was his way of being polite. I am here in the same capacity as the secretary — as an observer. Only because the envoy from the northern tribes is a prime minister have certain courtesies become necessary, and his arrival has unfortunately coincided with a particularly busy time in the capital. Ordinarily it would not have been out of place for the Prince Consort to come over and have a look in person; as things stand, I have come instead. Junior Official, you need only proceed with your duties.”

Junior Official Tong had at first believed he understood the situation inside and out, assuming that Zhù Ying had instigated Luo Sheng into seizing authority. But having now heard her explanation, he found it not entirely without merit. Half of his grievance dissolved. The other half still suspected that the Court of Dependencies was looking for an opportunity to make a move. Still, since the Lesser Chamberlain herself had come in person to offer an explanation, his dignity had been somewhat preserved, and she had said she would not interfere — that the negotiations were still his moment to shine. The remaining half of his grievance more or less evaporated as well. With no one obstructing him, the negotiations would be much easier to manage.

When he spoke again, his smile was easy and genuine: “What is the Lesser Chamberlain saying? Everyone knows how capable she is — we have known that since Director Xian’s time. Please do give us your guidance.”

“Not at all, not at all.”

Once they had smoothed things over among themselves, the talks resumed in the afternoon. Such a great matter could not possibly be concluded in a single afternoon, with a Lesser Chamberlain presiding and a junior official chairing, especially when the other party was by no means easy to deal with. Zhù Ying felt no anxiety. She did nothing but periodically tap the table, gesturing for Zhang and Fan to take careful notes; she herself had no intention of interjecting. Looking at everyone in the room — herself included — even if negotiations concluded, who among them had the authority to make a final decision? Kun Da Chi could decide for the tribal people, but none of them could decide for the imperial court. Everything still had to be reported upward.

So no matter how poorly Junior Official Tong performed, as long as he made no particularly foolish concessions in his words, she had no plans to speak for the first two days — she intended to first observe Kun Da Chi’s tactics. Then she would see.

After a few exchanges with Junior Official Tong, Kun Da Chi could already tell that this man seemed unable to make decisions of his own. Tong did have a bottom line — a framework given to him by Minister Dou: how much grain could be traded, what quantity of various goods was to be exchanged in return, and what substitutions to make if any particular item fell short.

This gave him a rough anchor but left him unable to act freely — Kun Da Chi was simply too difficult to deal with.

Since the negotiations also touched on local matters, when Junior Official Tong mentioned the handover point for grain transported from the north, Kun Da Chi abruptly shifted the topic: “Is the imperial court unable to determine local arrangements? That is not what I have heard.”

Junior Official Tong had to explain that of course the imperial court could determine local matters, but that efficiency was also a concern. He even posed a counter-question: “Is the Prime Minister not concerned with the timeliness of the handover?”

Kun Da Chi replied: “Precisely because I am.”

The afternoon passed in this manner. A minor official came in to report: “The evening curfew is approaching.”

The group then departed, and the servants and minor officials of the former Zhao residence locked up the rooms, and each party returned to their respective lodgings.

——…——

When Zhù Ying returned home, Zhù Qingjun had not improved, nor had she worsened — she was sweating out the illness. Zhù Ying asked what she had eaten, and was told she had only eaten a bit of meat congee, so she said: “She still needs to eat properly. Have another dose of medicine tomorrow morning; if there is no improvement, invite the Buddhist nun to come over. Bring some incense money along.”

Zhù Yin quickly agreed.

Zhù Ying said to Su Jiaming: “Come with me.”

Su Jiaming followed her to the study. Zhù Ying asked: “How is the shop doing now?”

Su Jiaming smiled: “Very well. My shop is right next door to the one Third Sister set up. The two of us sell different things, but both carry Wuzhou goods — with the two shops connected side by side, we draw more attention than we would separately, and business has actually improved. After looking at mine, customers find their appetite whetted and want to go see hers; after seeing hers, they want to come back to mine again.”

Some days prior, Su Jiaming had been scouting locations in the capital to open a shop selling goods from the south. Among the people of Wuzhou, the prejudice against commerce was far less than elsewhere, and the people of the outer five counties considered it no shame at all. Su Jiaming, a young girl, had built something remarkable, and privately felt it far better than enduring the contempt she had suffered back in Wuzhou.

Xiang An added: “I don’t go to the shop very often. A’Jin is usually there — the two of them are both doing well.”

Zhù Ying asked Su Jiaming again: “How much tea do you have left?”

Su Jiaming replied: “The batch sent last time has nearly sold out. A fresh supply came along when Qingjun arrived a few days ago. There are still a few baskets. The only pity is that many people here consider our tea inferior and won’t pay a good price for it.”

“Volume is what matters,” Zhù Ying said. “Here is what I want you to do: take some people with you, carry half a basket of tea, change into the house’s clothes, and present yourself before the Western Frontier envoy. Do you know who the Western Frontier envoy is? It doesn’t matter if you don’t — tomorrow he and I will be leaving together. When you see me, you can identify them. Once you have them fixed in your mind, wait for them to return to the Four Barbarians’ Hostel and call out your tea cakes for sale…” She instructed Su Jiaming to dress in the clothing of the Ying tribe, because among Kun Da Chi’s attendants there were people who had visited the capital two years prior and had seen the attire of Su Zhe and the others.

The more Su Jiaming listened, the more astonished she became. She and Xiang An shared the same thought simultaneously: What a lucky Western Frontier envoy!

When Zhù Ying meant to scheme against someone, that person was certain to come to grief — the most grievous case being the Suoning family, whose very bones had by now long since rotted away. But when it came to “tea,” this counted as trade, and Zhù Ying had always been fair in her dealings. As long as one was sincere in cooperating with her, one generally did not come out the worse.

Su Jiaming asked: “Our tea can also be pressed into tea bricks — the one problem is that the road to the Western Frontier is not very passable, all mountains, and only rarely does something from over there make its way through the Western Card family’s network to reach us. If we try to route through the capital, the journey is too long, the timeline too drawn out, the labor cost too high, and the risk of accidents too great. And then there is the language issue — we would need your elder to guide us.”

Zhù Ying laughed: “What is there to make so complicated? If there is no road, you explore one! Mountain paths are still paths. But remember — this matter is to be kept confidential.”

“Understood!”

“As for language, don’t worry about that either. He is in the capital and does not speak the language here — he will have brought a translator with him. You know the official tongue, and that is enough.”

Su Jiaming said: “Wonderful! I’ll go prepare right away! And what about Qingjun?”

Zhù Ying said: “There are enough people at home to look after her.”

Su Jiaming said: “She mentioned this morning that she felt bad about being ill.”

“It isn’t her fault. Go on about your business.”

“Yes!” Su Jiaming’s departing footsteps carried with them a little of a young girl’s skipping lightness.

……

The negotiations with the Western Frontier and the northern tribal envoys proceeded alternately. Zhù Ying continued to observe with cold detachment. She had originally attempted to have Wang and Ruan participate as well, but Luo Sheng had to stay home to prepare for his daughter’s wedding — and if Wang and Ruan left too, even with Shen Ying there, the Court of Dependencies would be overwhelmed with work. So Wang and Ruan had to remain.

Su Jiaming had already made contact with Kun Da Chi. Su Jiaming’s clothing was eye-catching: to display the “authentic Wuzhou goods” in her shop, the shop assistants and helpers all wore Ying tribal garments, and even her own casually grabbed outfit was immediately distinctive. She did not call out to sell; she only affixed a large character reading “Tea” to the tea basket, and beside it, in case Kun Da Chi could not read, drew several large broad tea leaves.

After an entire day of negotiations that had yielded no result, Kun Da Chi found it nearly impossible to ignore her. By the second round of negotiations, Kun Da Chi did not even appear — word came from the Four Barbarians’ Hostel that he had gone to the southern goods shop to see what was new.

Meanwhile, the northern tribal representatives and Junior Official Tong continued their grinding negotiations. From the second session onward, Kun Da Chi rarely spoke, handing the talks over to his subordinates to conduct with Junior Official Tong while he himself occasionally asked a pointed question out of nowhere. Zhù Ying gathered the people from the Four Barbarians’ Hostel and inquired about Kun Da Chi’s movements.

The answer was: “He has not done anything, and has not been trying to collude with anyone. Whenever guests come to call, we have accompanied them with a translator. Oh — right — he also asked why the current dynasty’s official system differs from what is written. We did not know, and could only tell him that such matters reflect the thinking of those above. He also asked some questions of some literary scholars, and those people told him it was a matter of ‘adapting to changing circumstances.’ There was nothing else. He is quite cautious when alone, and does not speak much.”

Zhù Ying ordered people to keep a close watch.

Not two days later, a translator came to report: “Two people in their delegation were overheard having a private conversation. They said: ‘The Prime Minister really does intend to model the official system after the southerners — this is an opportunity for those of us who have always followed the Khan. We should each pick an office.’ One of them wanted to be Minister of Finance; the other thought that the position of Capital Governor sounded appealing.”

A few more days passed, and Minister Dou grew somewhat restless. During the grand court assembly, he stopped Zhù Ying: “Our Court of Dependencies’ Chamberlain Luo is so busy he’s running himself into the ground, and here you are drinking tea and sitting in contemplation — that hardly seems right, does it?”

Zhù Ying said: “Has the matter with the Western Frontier not already been settled?” The Western Frontier envoy had not been nearly as difficult as Kun Da Chi — the agreement had been signed two days prior.

“That one is nothing — I am talking about the northern tribal envoy.”

Zhù Ying said: “That man is not easy to deal with.”

“Deal with?”

Zhù Ying said: “You did give Junior Official Tong some instructions beforehand, did you not? A fortunate thing too — otherwise that fellow would have had his soul snatched clean away by that other one.”

“And is your own soul still intact?”

“I am vulgar,” Zhù Ying said. “I only care about money.”

Minister Dou stopped pressing her, and joined in her laughter.

Now that Minister Dou had spoken up, there was no more room to idle. What she had wanted to learn, she had already learned through eavesdropping. That day, Zhù Ying saw her moment.

For days the two sides had been grinding over details. Junior Official Tong had developed a considerable admiration for Kun Da Chi’s bearing and manner — had it not been for a last thread of clear-headedness he retained in his mind, he would nearly have been swept along by the other man. But precisely because of this, he found himself unable to articulate any real counterarguments against Kun Da Chi, and could only repeat: “This will not do. Since this is an exchange, there is no reason for the concessions to come from our side alone.”

Yet Kun Da Chi spoke with sound reasoning and a voice tinged with the faintest shade of sorrow: “Benevolent people love their fellow men. Can a great and venerable state truly bear to watch innocent people freeze and starve to death?”

Junior Official Tong could neither say “our grain surplus is not large enough to let you take however much you like” — that would be revealing the bottom line — nor could he say “both sides have suffered from the disasters, so you must pay me more,” and still less could he openly declare that he genuinely did not care whether a foreign nation’s people might be starving and knocking at the border. Left with no good move, he cast a pitiful look at Zhù Ying.

Kun Da Chi looked over as well. Zhù Ying smiled: “Why are you looking at me? You men of learning always speak with hearts flying to and fro. I am different — I have no heart. Here,” she tapped her left breast, “I only have a set of scales.”

The mask of refined elegance that Kun Da Chi wore cracked, if only for a moment. Secretary Wang gave a little shudder and barely suppressed a laugh.

Zhù Ying continued: “All people, affairs, and things in this world have their own weight and can be measured. I imagine the Prime Minister, too, carries a set of scales — and what you are weighing right now is rather more than this bit of grain, is it not?”

Kun Da Chi drew a deep breath and said: “I need to think on this further.”

“I await your good news.”

That day Zhù Ying did not go directly home. Instead, on the pretext that the new year was approaching, that almost all the envoys had arrived, and that she needed to do an inspection of the Four Barbarians’ Hostel, she accompanied Kun Da Chi back.

When they were still an arrow’s distance from the Four Barbarians’ Hostel, Kun Da Chi suddenly said: “Lesser Chamberlain, might we speak privately?”

“Of course.”

Zhù Ying made a perfunctory circuit of the Four Barbarians’ Hostel, and noticing that Kun Da Chi had not yet returned, urged: “The curfew is nearly upon us — quickly go and find him. If the drum has finished and he still hasn’t come back, ask the Capital Governor’s office for assistance.”

The Protocol Director hurried to dispatch people.

Zhù Ying turned and made her way to Kun Da Chi’s quarters. He was waiting for her. Tea and refreshments had already been arranged on the table, and in the center of the spread stood a rack over which an entire lamb was being roasted.

Host and guest sat down. Kun Da Chi said: “The Lesser Chamberlain is silent for stretches at a time, and then when she speaks, the words cannot be forgotten.”

Zhù Ying said: “I am a thoroughly vulgar person. All that flowery and elegant language you all speak — I cannot join in. Were I to open my mouth, I would only make you laugh.”

Kun Da Chi smiled bitterly: “How could I still find anything to laugh about?”

Zhù Ying said: “There is no need for false modesty. Your bearing and manner are impeccable. Those men there were nearly ready to tear out their own hearts to show you. You even managed to draw out information about vacancies in the Ministry of Personnel and the positions in the Censorate.”

The kitchen servants brought the carved meat forward. Kun Da Chi waved his hand, and the kitchen staff and attendants all withdrew. Only then did he speak: “My every move and action is truly impossible to conceal from a great state.”

Zhù Ying said: “You are an upright gentleman — you have laid everything openly on the table; you never intended to hide anything from me, did you? Only I do not understand: why did you ask about these things? If you came to negotiate, you know that the Ministry of Finance and the Court of Dependencies report to the Council of State, which presents to His Majesty — that would be sufficient for this matter to be settled. I have thought it over from every angle, and with your intelligence, you surely did not mean to use such intelligence to stir up trouble in the imperial court, did you?”

Kun Da Chi said: “Of course not! Our state is impoverished. We look for every crack in the wall to squeeze through, seeking nothing but a little forbearance. Since the Lesser Chamberlain has already spoken so plainly, I cannot persist in my stubborn position. Is it truly impossible to grant our state any concession at all?”

Zhù Ying said: “Each side yields a step — you add a little on your end, and I come down a little on mine. What you report to your superiors when you return is none of my concern. How does that sound?”

Kun Da Chi seemed to let out a long breath: “Good.”

Zhù Ying said: “In that case — once the specific figures are confirmed with Junior Official Tong tomorrow, this matter is considered settled?”

“Of course.”

Zhù Ying ate her fill without any ceremony, then bid Kun Da Chi farewell. Stepping out of the Four Barbarians’ Hostel, she swung up onto her horse: “To Chief Minister Wang’s residence!”

——…——

Wang Yunhe’s home was quite lively today, with local governors and the like dropping off name cards and waiting in line for an audience. Zhù Ying slipped in quietly, exchanged a word or two with the household manager, jumped the queue, and went in to see Wang Yunhe.

Wang Yunhe said: “You are a rare visitor.”

Zhù Ying smiled: “All my visitors are at the Four Barbarians’ Hostel.”

Wang Yunhe raised an eyebrow: “The tribal prime minister?”

Zhù Ying gave a nod: “He has been asking about the official system.”

Wang Yunhe said: “Sit down.”

Zhù Ying sat. “I may have guessed his intentions. The person we had watching him did not dare get too close, and only caught fragments. But it seems they are planning to reform their official system and forge a scattered people into a unified whole.”

She cupped her palm, then closed it into a fist, and punched outward.

Wang Yunhe said: “That will be difficult to handle.”

Zhù Ying said: “Difficult or not, it must still be handled.”

Wang Yunhe let out a sigh: “We cannot take military action at the moment. Very well — I understand. You need not concern yourself with this matter any further.”

“And the trading post?”

“Close enough will do.”

Zhù Ying made as though to tease him: “No concessions then? He did make a fair argument — if the Khan cannot hold his people together, and the northern tribes descend into chaos, the border will suffer as well. Don’t you rather like him?”

Wang Yunhe gave her a sidelong look: “Who said anything of the sort? I am speaking now of affairs of state.”

Zhù Ying smiled: “Yes.”

Wang Yunhe continued: “Keep a close eye on that man — do not move against him; he must return safely. Do not confront him with questions, either. First, one may not necessarily extract anything; and second, even if the truth were drawn out, what then? Whether he can see his plans through remains uncertain. If he does not return, that would immediately become a pretext for unrest. The court’s hands are full right now — if it can be left alone, leave it alone. Whether he becomes a threat depends on whether the court itself governs with diligence and ambition. Remember this man.”

“Yes.”

Wang Yunhe’s mood dipped a little: “I envy him, in truth. If what you say is accurate, his thinking is sound. That he came here at all means he has gained support — yet I…”

Zhù Ying said: “Opportunities will come. And he may not succeed.”

“If he fails, I will feel both gladness and sorrow.”

Zhù Ying gave a nod: “Each person walks their own path.”

Seeing that Wang Yunhe did not appear to wish to continue the conversation, she said: “Tomorrow I will first notify Minister Dou, and then go with Junior Official Tong and the others to meet the northern tribal envoy and sign the agreement?”

“Go.”

Zhù Ying trod lightly as she left Wang Yunhe’s residence. She could at last go home. The most difficult part of this errand was more or less finished. She felt nothing particular toward the northern tribal envoy — but things with Kun Da Chi had been progressing smoothly.

She was already planning the next steps in her mind when a procession appeared ahead of her, lanterns and torches blazing. The two groups drew near, and each recognized the other.

Zhù Ying was first to dismount: “Well? What brings you out wandering the streets at this hour?”

Zheng Xi leaned out from within the carriage: “Nonsense again.”

Zhù Ying noticed his nose was slightly red, as if he had been crying. She deliberately glanced toward where he had come from: “The palace?”

Zheng Xi smiled: “It is nothing. You need not pay for anything.”

“Oh?”

Zheng Xi laughed and cursed: “My daughter — I raised her all these years, and suddenly the way she talks is just like you. What spell did you cast on her?”

“I would never dare say such things at random!”

Zheng Xi said: “Go home — there is nothing the matter.”

“Oh. All right.”

By the next day, Zhù Ying came to understand what “there is nothing the matter” meant — the Emperor had moved swiftly, as he always did when he acted. He had also arranged a marriage for Prince Chengyi.

The bride’s family was exceptionally distinguished and refined: a girl from the prestigious Wang family, of an age comparable to Prince Chengyi’s, with a father who was a member of the pure-stream literati. When tracing the lineage carefully, she was a very distant, very distant relative of the same clan as Chamberlain Wang of the Court of Dependencies. The Wang family was of noble descent with a high-ranking pedigree — but Chamberlain Wang could tell you: “Her family? Also not great. Even below mine, in fact.”

Great clans and distinguished houses were disdainful of humble scholars from the outside, and within those families, the various branches also ranked above and below one another. The more formidable ones — like the Yuan family whose daughter had been selected as crown princess consort, only for the whole family to be dragged down by the Gong treachery — could have their daughters chosen as crown princess consorts. The lesser ones, like the father of this Wang girl, bore the surname Wang and nothing more, currently sitting at the seventh rank and posted somewhere in an obscure little corner as a minor local official.

One had to admire the Emperor’s ability to dig her out.

This matter was no longer any concern of Zhù Ying’s. She first communicated matters to Minister Dou, then went with Junior Official Tong to meet Kun Da Chi and signed the agreement into finality.

By the middle of the afternoon, she found herself free. She planned to coordinate with the Ministry of Rites the following day to instruct the various envoys in how to perform the ceremonial obeisance before the Emperor and the Crown Prince. For the rest of today’s half-day, she had earned her leisure through her own efforts.

This made her rather pleased. Leaving the Four Barbarians’ Hostel, she went home first, wrote two name cards, and had people deliver them to Prime Minister Wu and Cui Jiacheng.

Zhù Qingjun was at her side, grinding ink, unaware that these two people had been prepared by Zhù Ying for her benefit. Zhù Ying reckoned that bringing Zhù Qingjun along with her everywhere was not entirely convenient — it would be better first to ask Wu and Cui to teach Zhù Qingjun the law.

The person delivering the name cards had barely left when someone came hurling themselves to the ground before the Zhù residence gate: “Honored official! Honored official! Help me! Save me!”

Zhù Wen pulled open the gate and was startled by the sight of the person before him: “Who are you?”

He was not the sort of man who startled easily. He was taken aback precisely because the person was dressed in Ying tribal garments and speaking in the Qixia language — a language Zhù Wen knew as well as his own native tongue. The man looked as though he might drop dead at any moment.