Liu Songnian’s appointment as Chief Minister absolutely required a congratulatory gift. After leaving Old Ma’s tea shop, Zhù Ying returned home and arranged for gifts to be sent to the Liu residence, personally going to the storeroom to select them.

By the standards of her origins, Zhù Ying’s personal resources were quite considerable; compared to the great established families of the capital, they were nothing. From her time at the Court of Judicial Review onward, the bulk of the additional income from cases involving confiscated properties had to go to her superiors. After becoming Prefect, she had accumulated some savings, but the antique texts and paintings and calligraphy that literary men favored were few and far between. The storeroom carried a frank, honest aura — the scent of having pulled oneself free from poverty.

Zhù Ying first selected some pearls, then chose a tea set, then picked out a set of gold wares. She went to the inner room and opened an unremarkable black lacquer box, chose two stalks of lingzhi mushrooms, and from the medicines Princess Yongping had given her on a previous occasion, selected a root of ginseng. She did not cast a single glance at the pitiful shelf of scroll paintings and books, and went directly to a rack, telling Xiang Le: “Take a box of gold, and pick out twenty bolts of colored silk.”

Xiang Le said: “Yes.” He saw Zhù Ying reach up to the rack and take down a bolt of black silk, and quickly stepped forward: “Let me.”

Zhù Ying waved a hand: “This one is for myself.”

Xiang Le withdrew his hands and had people carry the items out one by one, writing up a list which he presented to Zhù Ying for review. Zhù Ying, holding the silk, swept her eyes over the list and said: “Fine, that will do.”

Xiang Le said: “The card?”

“I’ll write it.”

Xiang Le said: “Then, shall I deliver it personally?”

“Fine.”

“If they ask about you over at their estate, what should I say?”

“Just say that knowing they are busy right now, there’s no point in adding to the commotion — wait until Chief Minister Liu has a moment to breathe.”

Xiang Le said: “Yes.”

Zhù Ying carried the silk to the study and tossed it onto the side couch. Xiang Le stepped forward to grind the ink. Zhù Ying finished writing the card, then asked him: “Still no word from Xiang An?”

Xiang Le said: “Not yet, but she travels fast. She should have arrived almost half a month ago. The Censors should have arrived there too; whatever the situation, there will be some sign of things by now. The message must still be on its way.”

“Report to me the moment word comes.”

“Yes.”

“Go.”

“Yes.”

It was still broad daylight. Zhù Ying walked to the couch and unfurled the silk. She extended her left hand, measured two spans, folded it over, and pinched the crease. Drawing out a short blade, she scored a small cut — “zhhhk” — and tore off a long wide strip.

Zhù Yín quickly stepped forward: “I’ll do that, sir.”

Zhù Ying sheathed the short blade: “This is fine.” She folded the wide strip in half, then in half again, and with both hands smoothed it up over her eyes, then ran it back behind her head and tied a knot.

Zhù Yín’s mouth opened slightly. She stepped forward another pace, her expression full of astonishment: “Sir? You…”

Zhù Ying tilted her head and listened. She shifted her toes slowly, by small degrees, tilted her head slightly, then gave a quiet nod — as if listening to something some other person had said to her. She restrained herself from leaning forward, and yet without realizing it she couldn’t help but reach out her hand.

This behavior left Zhù Yín completely unable to understand. It seemed Zhù Ying was doing this with some purpose; reflexively, Zhù Yín reached to support Zhù Ying’s hand: “Just tell me what you want, sir.”

Her hand had barely touched Zhù Ying’s wrist when Zhù Ying’s wrist flicked and turned, slipping free from her palm. Both were startled for a moment.

Zhù Ying gave another small nod, then said to her: “Go find me a walking staff.”

“Ah? Yes!”

Hu Shijie on the side also didn’t understand what was happening. She said: “Sir, shall I support you?”

“No need,” Zhù Ying said.

Slowly, hesitatingly, stumbling a little, she walked forward from memory to the desk, felt for the chair, and sat down. Hu Shijie watched Zhù Ying’s neck shift from slightly craned forward back to its natural position, and was intensely curious. But she heard Zhù Ying say: “What differences did you notice between my bearing just now and my usual bearing?”

Hu Shijie said: “A little.”

The corner of Zhù Ying’s mouth curved upward: “Come then — tell me in detail.”

……

Zhù Lian returned from the Zheng family school, Zhù Qingjun from the martial chancellor’s household, and Lin Feng from the Wuzhou guild hall — all returning to the residence one after another. Before the household ate, they each needed to give Zhù Ying a brief report on the day’s lessons.

This day was no exception. All of them had received the good news that “Old Master Liu, who is dear to our household, has been appointed Chief Minister,” and their faces all carried smiles as they arrived back at the residence one after another, the three of them even exchanging greetings with each other.

Zhù Lian pulled a book from his sleeve and gave it to Zhù Qingjun; Zhù Qingjun was mildly surprised. Zhù Lian said: “I heard at the school that the Duke’s household had this, so I borrowed it to copy.”

It was a medical text. Zhù Qingjun was studying medicine, and Zhù Lian, considering himself the “eldest senior disciple,” had tracked it down for her.

Zhù Qingjun said: “Thank you. I’ll return it to you once I’ve copied it.”

“No rush — they’re not in a hurry for it either.”

Lin Feng teased: “What about me? Nothing for me?”

Zhù Lian said: “The things you like to read, they like too — no snatching it away from them. We can only take turns. When it was my turn, I brought it back so you could read it first.”

Lin Feng burst out laughing.

The three were still talking lightly as they walked, but entering the study, they were startled. The day had grown dark; the study had candles lit. Beside the branched candlestick, Zhù Ying sat upright on the couch, a silk cloth covering her eyes, a bamboo staff at her side.

The three forgot about paying their respects and bolted forward to her: “Teacher/Sir/Adoptive Father, what happened to you?”

Zhù Ying’s head turned slightly, drifting fractionally away from their direction, and she smiled: “Nothing. Come — tell me what you each studied today.”

Zhù Qingjun waved her hand in front of Zhù Ying’s face: “Sir, let me take your pulse.”

Zhù Ying said: “Lessons first.”

The three had things weighing on their minds; a full day’s lessons came out stumbling and tangled.

Zhù Ying said to Zhù Qingjun: “You’re not yourself today — why are you speaking in such a muddle?”

Zhù Qingjun said: “Please let me look at your eyes. What happened? Are you ill or injured?” At the word “injured,” her tone took on a grinding fierceness.

Zhù Ying said: “Zhù Lian — your turn. Continue.”

Zhù Lian had no choice but to review his coursework in a disjointed fashion, his eyes flickering to Zhù Ying’s face all the while. When the two of them had finished, it was Lin Feng’s turn. Lin Feng had no assigned lessons at the guild hall, but Zhù Ying had him learning the business of the hall — he too had to give a brief account, and he also stumbled through it.

Zhù Ying offered a few comments, then said: “Alright, let’s go eat.”

With that she picked up the bamboo staff.

Zhù Qingjun looked toward Hu Shijie; Hu Shijie shook her head at her, signaling it was nothing serious.

Zhù Ying, walking stick in hand, explored her way along the flat floor one tap at a time — walking on level ground, yet feeling as though she were treading on clouds. Dinner that night was served late. Zhù Ying lifted her bowl and ate more slowly. Zhù Qingjun rushed forward: “Let me.” She deboned the fish for Zhù Ying, placed the meat in her bowl, and told her aloud where things were.

Zhù Ying nodded, but the chopsticks she extended had lost their accuracy. Zhù Qingjun carefully said: “Shall I?” She picked up the bowl and brought a spoon to Zhù Ying’s lips.

Zhù Ying’s lips trembled faintly, then slowly parted.

When the meal was done, Zhù Ying asked: “Quite a bit spilled, didn’t it?”

Zhù Qingjun said: “Just a little. What happened to you?”

“Nothing. Call everyone together.”

Zhù Ying gathered all the household members, then issued an order: “What happened today — not one word to anyone outside. All of you go clean up and sleep.”

She still did not remove the black silk. She made her way slowly back to the sleeping quarters, refused any assistance, and had all the lamps in the room lit, then sat quietly in the room. After a long while, she removed the cloth from her face, prepared a basin of water, and washed up to sleep.

She left the sleeping quarters and had barely taken a few steps when she suddenly spun around and saw several people huddled over to one side. Seeing her look over, they all scrambled out: “Sir!”

It was Zhù Lian, Zhù Qingjun, Hu Shijie, Zhù Yín, Lin Feng, and others who had been waiting nearby. Zhù Qingjun, seeing her looking perfectly fine, cried out: “Sir, you’re perfectly all right!”

Zhù Ying smiled: “Ah, yes.”

Only then did they have the heart to grumble a little: “Sir, how could you play tricks on people? This is nothing to joke about — you had everyone worried! Xiang Erlang was outside waiting for news too, afraid to disturb you.”

Zhù Ying stepped out to the rear courtyard and indeed found Xiang Le pacing outside. Seeing her, he hurried forward: “Sir.”

“Mm — nothing wrong. Get some rest.”

……

The next morning, everyone in the household saw Zhù Ying rise with all four limbs intact, hearing and sight sharp, dress and eat properly, throw a leg over her horse, and ride off — only then did their hearts settle. They all took it as some deeper purpose of hers, and went back to their own business.

On this day Zhù Ying had no court session. After Luo Sheng returned from court, the Prince of Qiyang brought Luo Yi again. Father and daughter were happy whenever they met; Luo Sheng was both laughing and saying: “Won’t Physician keep coming here like this — won’t that look wrong?”

The Prince of Qiyang said: “Our own family — nothing improper about it. Luo Yi misses home; it’s just that she can’t go out easily. Three days’ return visit, and then she can go see her aunt.”

Zhù Ying and Sheng Ying still had to leave; the Prince of Qiyang seemed to remember something and said: “Junior Vice Director Zhù, please wait a moment.”

Both Sheng Ying and Zhù Ying stood. The Prince of Qiyang smiled: “Yesterday I heard you had been to the old residence. I wonder how the old residence is faring? Did the rain leak through anywhere else?”

Zhù Ying said: “There are two spots leaking outside; the weeds on the walls have also been cleared away. I didn’t presume to enter inside — I imagine it’s much the same.”

The Prince of Qiyang said: “Is that so…”

Luo Sheng said caringly: “Send someone to repair it.”

The Prince of Qiyang said: “Yes. Though the palace is fine, I sometimes miss the old residence. I’d like to go see it. After the three-day visit, then.”

He then bent down to ask his little Princess Consort if she would like to go out for an outing in a few days.

Luo Yi nodded: “Of course!”

The palace was large, but there were not many places Luo Yi could roam freely. The Eastern Palace was still not quite like her parents’ home, always somewhat cramped and constraining. Getting out of the palace for an excursion would naturally be wonderful.

The Prince of Qiyang said to Zhù Ying: “In seven days I will go to the old residence — would it be convenient? Would Junior Vice Director be willing to accompany us? After all, that place now belongs to the Court of State Ceremonial.”

Luo Sheng was unwilling to let his daughter and son-in-law have even the slightest inconvenience: “Then I’ll go as well. Zǐzhāng, let’s go together.”

Zhù Ying’s expression did not change: “Of course.”

Having agreed, she gave another bow, and bowed once more to Luo Yi, then turned without looking back and walked away. Sheng Ying was helpless and had to leave as well.

The Prince of Qiyang wanted to take the old residence, so Zhù Ying went to supervise the areas borrowed by the Court of State Ceremonial and hasten their tidying. By the afternoon, craftsmen led by a eunuch had also gone to the old residence to inspect and repair the remaining rooms.

That evening, after work, Zhù Ying went as planned to Liu Songnian’s home. Liu Songnian’s house was full of guests. The old man had not taken a broom to drive them all out — he had even set out a banquet to receive them. To Zhù Ying alone he had only one sentence: “You haven’t come early enough.”

Zhù Ying said: “At this point I wouldn’t be much help even if I had, so earlier or later doesn’t matter — what matters is whether you have a free moment.”

Liu Songnian simply ignored her: “Find yourself a place to sit. Do whatever you like.”

Zhù Ying gave a nod: “Alright.”

She settled down and ate seriously. Partway through her meal, Yue Miaojun came over. He had been running back and forth these days to help receive guests. Seeing Zhù Ying, he smiled and sat down beside her: “Why did you come so late? And now sitting here all alone? Why not come talk with us?”

Zhù Ying said: “I’ve always been a person of few words — only later was I forced to talk incessantly. You’re busy; don’t mind me.”

Yue Miaojun said: “No wonder you and my uncle get on so well — you can both just sit still.”

Zhù Ying smiled and shook her head: “We have some similarities.”

Seeing her this way, Yue Miaojun stopped disturbing her. Zhù Ying ate her fill and left. At the door she said to the household manager: “I’m going.” And with a free stride she was gone. She had been doing this for the past half year; the household manager was long past finding it strange.

Zhù Ying returned home and again tied the black silk over her eyes. But Xiang Le produced a finely crafted walking staff, its head fitted with silver, the wood dense and hard.

After that, Zhù Ying was completely normal during the day, but when she returned home she always played the blind person. In a matter of days, her movements when blinded were hardly distinguishable from those of an ordinary person.

In the meantime, the Prince of Qiyang paid one more visit to the Court of State Ceremonial. Three days after the return visit, he came as promised, bringing Luo Yi to the Court of State Ceremonial to collect Luo Sheng and Zhù Ying for the trip to the old residence.

Luo Sheng was full of anticipation, but still said: “Luo Yi has only just arrived at the palace. Let’s leave it at this for now — she’ll have to live in the palace in the future. I don’t want her brought outside all the time; she needs to adjust.”

The Prince of Qiyang smiled: “I understand — not every day will be like this. I also need to attend to Imperial Grandfather and assist Father. I’m planning to find a teacher for Luo Yi to continue her reading and studying inside the Eastern Palace — what do you think?”

Luo Sheng agreed repeatedly: “Good, good.”

The Prince of Qiyang then spoke to Sheng Ying with great warmth: “The Six Boards and Nine Courts hold key positions; the Court of State Ceremonial cannot be without someone to manage it. It is because of the two of you accompanying us out of the palace that Senior Vice Director Sheng has been put to trouble. I am mortified.”

Sheng Ying quickly said: “Not at all.”

The Prince of Qiyang praised Sheng Ying for his steady competence and apologized to him again and again, saying he had worked hard. Luo Sheng also made his request. Sheng Ying wore a smile: “This is within my duties.”

Zhù Ying and he exchanged a nod.

Then the party left the imperial city for the old residence.

The old residence had known they were coming and had been rushed into repairs and a clean new appearance. The Prince of Qiyang deliberately stepped aside to give space, letting father and daughter be together, while he himself stood to one side with Zhù Ying, watching Luo Sheng and Luo Yi play in the old estate.

Zhù Ying gave him a slight bow. The Prince of Qiyang said: “I grew up here. Looking back now, childhood was so free. In the palace, there was none of this ease.”

Zhù Ying said: “Fish and bear’s paw cannot both be had.”

The Prince of Qiyang shook his head: “I fear neither the fish nor the bear’s paw may be obtained.”

Zhù Ying turned her face to look at him. The Prince of Qiyang looked at her steadily and said: “Your two warnings — my father and I have taken them deeply to heart.”

Zhù Ying said: “These were things apparent to anyone — not worth your saying so.”

The Prince of Qiyang said: “Please, teach me.”

His gaze never left Zhù Ying’s face. From the side came the sound of Luo Yi’s laughter. Zhù Ying looked over — she saw Luo Sheng pushing his daughter on a swing. Among all the young girls Zhù Ying had ever seen, not one could match that carefree, untroubled laugh.

She sighed and looked back at the Prince of Qiyang: “Too many words bring trouble.”

The Prince of Qiyang’s gaze did not yield; he pressed further. Zhù Ying continued to look at him calmly. The Prince of Qiyang’s eyes opened a fraction wider. Zhù Ying gave a nod. From the other side came Luo Yi’s voice: “Father — what are those two doing?”

The father and daughter had tired of playing; Luo Sheng had lifted her down from the swing, and the two were now looking this way. The Prince of Qiyang was about to say “nothing at all,” but Zhù Ying at his side said: “A contest.”

Luo Sheng was curious: “What sort of contest?”

“To see who blinks first.”

Luo Yi said curiously: “Does a sir also play at that?”

“A sir also had a childhood.”

Luo Yi laughed again. Luo Sheng took her to explore the old residence. The two of them had both visited here as guests before and, for reasons they could not quite name, loved wandering through the old place at this time, in these surroundings, revisiting familiar ground.

Zhù Ying and the Prince of Qiyang followed at a distance. The Prince of Qiyang said: “She is happier here than at home.”

Zhù Ying said: “Both father and daughter are of pure, unvarnished character — born with a gentleman’s bearing. No concealment in a private moment, no performance in a public one. Their nature is the same whether anyone is watching or not.”

“Ah.”

Whatever the Prince of Qiyang had taken from that, he did not visit the Court of State Ceremonial again for nearly half a month. By the beginning of the fourth month, he came again with Luo Yi, saying nothing much, and quietly watched father and daughter talk. Luo Yi told him what she had studied and about life in the Eastern Palace; Luo Sheng listened with a smile.

Zhù Ying and Sheng Ying as usual had to step aside and make space for them, but the Prince of Qiyang politely walked them out himself a few steps, then said: “The weather is starting to grow warm — please take care of yourselves.” He produced fans and offered them to both.

Sheng Ying received a folding fan. What Zhù Ying received was a waist fan. At her waist she still had another fan — one Zheng Xi had given her many years before. She had found it clever and useful at the time and kept using it. Over time it had worn and frayed, and she had repaired and replaced parts as needed; by now it had been with her more than ten years and bore the marks of age.

Both of them stowed the fans carefully. The Prince of Qiyang, seeing that Zhù Ying had not exchanged her old fan for the new one, raised an eyebrow but said nothing. In truth, Sheng Ying had also carefully put his away — he was not short of fans either. But the gift from the Prince of Qiyang carried a certain special weight; best to keep it well, in case it should one day prove useful.

The fourth month was Prince Chengyi’s wedding period. Luo Sheng went; Zhù Ying and Sheng Ying did not attend — they were not close to the Prince Chengyi household, and the Emperor had made no special requirement that all officials come to offer congratulations. Some former East Palace retainers and certain relatives of the Prince Chengyi household did attend. Wang Yunhe, Shi Kun, and Liu Songnian all sent congratulatory gifts but did not go in person.

Prince Chengyi’s wedding ceremony was not small — half of the capital could hear the drums and gongs. The Crown Prince’s family also went; the Crown Prince sat briefly and then left. The Prince of Qiyang stayed until the very end.

He brought Luo Yi to the Court of State Ceremonial once every ten days. In between, he also took Luo Yi once to Princess Yongping’s estate. When visiting the Court of State Ceremonial, sometimes he exchanged a few more words with Zhù Ying; other times it was simply ordinary pleasantries. This continued through to the end of the fifth month.

Zhù Ying sat steadily in the Court of State Ceremonial. Trade with the Hu people had already gone through two rounds — grain exchanged for cattle, horses, sheep, and local products from the northern regions. Reports came back saying the results were good. Su Jia Ming and Xiang Le had also participated; the people sent in the expedition carried letters back saying there was quite a profit to be made. The horses Zhù Ying had specifically requested had also been exchanged for, and were presently being kept in the suburbs.

Zhù Ying was planning to find some actual wasteland in the suburbs and open it up as a small horse paddock. Households with some means in the capital could not do without horses, and she now had the convenient conditions to manage her own. She might as well make a go of it.

Reviewing the terrain around the capital in her mind, Zhù Ying had already identified several candidate sites. Just as she was calculating the budget quietly, someone came from the Grand Council: “The Chief Ministers request that Zhù Daren attend for a discussion.”

Zhù Ying said: “Me?”

“Yes.”

Zhù Ying rose and went with the messenger to the Grand Council. Along the way, she asked: “Would you happen to know what the matter is?”

The man knew her and replied: “This junior official doesn’t know either. But I think I heard the two words ‘Wuzhou.'”

“Oh — thank you.”

……

The Grand Council now had three Chief Ministers. Upon entering, Zhù Ying bowed to all three before she was given a seat. Liu Songnian sat with his arms folded, watching her. In front of him alone were the fewest documents; he looked entirely at leisure, with an air of refined transcendence. Wang Yunhe and Shi Kun had been waiting so long and so eagerly for this man, and had received an elder who was practically useless except for helping stand the night watch — almost nothing else could be counted on from him.

Shi Kun, pressed with work, had grown the tiniest bit irritable, and said to Zhù Ying: “If Wuzhou is to be divided, who would you recommend?”

“Ah?”

Wang Yunhe said: “The Censors have returned.”

Zhù Ying asked with concern: “What was the outcome? Have Su Mingluan and Lang and the others falsely accused their superior?”

Shi Kun said: “If only they had falsely accused him! It turned out even worse than what was reported!”

If it were merely discord with the tribal peoples, that alone couldn’t say much about how bad an official was. But if the registered commoner households under his jurisdiction had also filed complaints, that official was difficult to defend.

Liu Songnian said: “Why not just show it to her? Save wasting breath.”

Shi Kun said: “These are the Censors’ memorials — how can they be shown to her?”

They couldn’t be shown, but they could be summarized. Shi Kun concisely described the Censors’ findings: things like condoning wicked servants to bully men and forcibly take women, embezzlement, and the mistreatment of tributary county magistrates — all substantiated.

As Zhù Ying listened, she recognized that she herself had arranged the majority of it. Yu Qingquan and Guo Jun had also uncovered two additional items that the two of them felt were “improper,” and had reported everything together.

The Grand Council’s deliberation had arrived at the result Wang Yunhe had spoken of on the previous occasion: divide. The outer five counties would become their own independent prefecture, still called Wuzhou. The inner three counties would be divided into a separate administrative unit called Jiyuan Prefecture. Jiyuan Prefecture was not placed under Bian Xing’s authority but was merged into a neighboring prefecture, giving that prefect an unexpected windfall. This Prefect was someone Zhù Ying knew well — a friendship from the days of growing wheat.

As for the original Wuzhou’s officials: those of tributary origin would remain in the new Wuzhou in their current posts. The remaining personnel would be transferred north in batches and replaced by new appointees.

Zhang Yun would serve as Prefect of Jiyuan Prefecture; a Deputy Prefect would be appointed separately.

What the Grand Council wished to ask Zhù Ying was: for the Deputy Prefect, did she have any recommendations? And for the new Wuzhou’s Prefect — was it better served by rotating officials, or by appointing someone permanently? If the latter, did she have a recommendation?

Zhù Ying hurried to say: “This junior official, in my youth and ignorance…”

Liu Songnian made a sound of light disdain, slanted his eyes at her once, and Shi Kun burst out laughing: “Enough — speak.”

Zhù Ying first said: “Having Zhang Yun manage Jiyuan Prefecture, I feel at ease. Only I don’t know if he can hold his own against his superiors — Jiyuan Prefecture is, after all, somewhat different from other places.”

Liu Songnian said: “Judging by the look of Wuzhou, he has the mettle.”

Shi Kun, the moment he heard Liu Songnian speak, got a headache. He asked Zhù Ying: “The new Wuzhou?”

Zhù Ying said: “Remote governance — how about that?”

Remote governance: find someone among the capital’s nobility — mainly sons and grandsons of princes — give them an empty title, without the person actually going there or directing things from a distance. The area would be governed primarily by local officials.

Zhù Ying thought it over, and this approach was the better one.

Wang Yunhe said: “The only pity is that Wuzhou’s rank is too low — this remote governance arrangement would be a bit beneath one’s dignity.”

Liu Songnian said: “I think it’s fine. Tributary regions! Set a good precedent.”

Zhù Ying asked: “What arrangements are to be made for the original Prefect?”

Liu Songnian glanced at her; Zhù Ying looked back at him. Both glanced away. Wang Yunhe laughed: “Have him shut himself away and read books.”

Zhù Ying asked again: “And the wicked servant?”

Shi Kun shrugged: “Dead.”

Yu Qingquan had locked the man in a standing cangue, and the man had died standing in it. Dead was dead. In his day, Zhong Yi had personally beaten a petty official to death, and that had amounted to nothing — this was even less of a matter than that.

Shi Kun said: “Stop paying attention to such petty details. Jiyuan Prefecture is still short of staff — say something.”

Zhù Ying wanted to recommend southerners, but the southerners she knew were all local to Jiyuan Prefecture and therefore ineligible. She said instead: “The right person is needed. Jiyuan Prefecture has gone through two upheavals in ten years; the people can hardly bear more disruption. Someone unobtrusive and quiescent would be best.”

Shi Kun said: “Then it shall be so.”

Zhù Ying asked: “How will Wuzhou’s tax revenues be remitted?”

Wang Yunhe said: “They can travel the same route as Jiyuan Prefecture’s remittances to the capital.”

Zhù Ying then said nothing more. Shi Kun said: “You can feel reassured now?”

Zhù Ying smiled, feeling a great weight lift from her shoulders. She rose and took her leave.

……

It had been a full and satisfying day. Counting on her fingers, tomorrow was a day off. She was thinking of going to the suburbs to look at wasteland, to set up the small horse paddock.

Before she had even reached home, she saw unusual activity at the gate from a distance. Arriving before it, she found a crowd unloading boxes and trunks. Su Qingtian was standing to one side directing them: “Handle that chest with care.”

Hearing hoofbeats, Su Qingtian lifted her skirts and came running down: “Teacher! I’ve brought Su Zhe!”