Zhù Ying returned home in an easy, relaxed frame of mind.

Now she had only to wait for Zheng Xi’s response. Knowing him as she did, there was an eighty-percent chance he would agree — even though at the time he had sided with Prince Zhao. As the saying goes, circumstances change; after all this time, genuinely remaining of one mind with the Emperor would be quite difficult.

If he did not agree, it didn’t matter either — there was still the option of siding with the Emperor as a fallback.

On arriving home, she also received a visiting card from the Chen household, proposing a meeting the following evening. Zhù Ying knew what they wanted to discuss, and she agreed readily. You see — even without Zheng Xi, if she simply kept a low profile, she could still have a group of people who “clung to one another for warmth.” She could get along just fine.

With that feeling in mind, Zhù Ying fell peacefully asleep, and the next day went to morning court as usual. Drafting a budget for an entire nation’s coming year was an extraordinarily taxing affair — it still wasn’t done — and she had to press on.

But at morning court, she heard news that was both unexpected and expected: Marquis Leng had submitted a memorial requesting retirement, citing a recurrence of an old illness. He had not even come to court in person.

The Emperor asked with some surprise, “Why would he suddenly think to retire?”

Leng Yun replied on his behalf, “My father is advanced in years.”

The Emperor calculated. “He is this year — oh! I still see him looking quite vigorous. Rest and take care of your health, then come back when you’re well! Don’t be filling your head with unnecessary thoughts.”

Leng Yun persisted in requesting retirement on behalf of Marquis Leng, falling just short of throwing a scene in the middle of court: “Your Majesty, our household discipline is like military law. If this memorial doesn’t go through, I’ll get a beating when I go home! Poor as I am, I am after all one of the Nine Ministers — if I get beaten, it reflects badly on you too, Your Majesty!”

After much persuasion back and forth, the Emperor agreed with apparent reluctance. Ruler and minister played out their scene together; the Emperor approved Marquis Leng’s request, allowing him to retire on full salary, and also bestowed a walking staff and medicine upon him.

Another matter concerned Prince Qi: the Ministry of Rites and Xian Jing’s faction had spent several days wrangling over Wang Yunhe’s posthumous title. Now that that was settled, they had the energy to arrange the ceremonial procedures for Prince Qi’s inspection tour.

The court had not seen a princely inspection tour in quite some time. The Ministry of Rites spent a while digging out the old ceremonial protocols. The Emperor had no particular objection, and upon seeing “established precedent” simply nodded his approval. It was just that some of the ceremonial vessels and regalia were difficult to assemble on short notice. The Crown Prince said, “The matter is pressing and there’s no time to have new ones made — let me move some from the Eastern Palace storehouses.”

The Emperor looked at the Crown Prince with satisfaction, then said to Prince Qi, “Have you thanked your elder brother? Remember the care your brother has shown you.”

Prince Qi bowed. The Crown Prince returned the courtesy.

For a brief moment, it was a scene of a benevolent father, filial sons, harmonious brothers.

Having played their parts in this scene, everyone dispersed. Zhù Ying returned to the Ministry of Revenue to go over the accounts again with Ye and Li. Zhù Ying then extracted the section pertaining to the salt-producing prefectures, and Ye Deng asked, “Are you planning to use salt to offset a shortage in the fiscal balance?”

Zhù Ying said, “Set it aside as a reserve measure for now.”

This was indeed a common instrument, and not unfamiliar in history. For instance, if the court had difficulty transporting grain to the frontier, it might issue salt vouchers to merchants, letting merchants assemble grain and transport it themselves, then — upon arrival — exchange the grain for salt vouchers in proportion. The merchants would take the vouchers to the salt-producing areas to collect salt, which they could then sell as they saw fit.

Salt was highly profitable, but iron and salt were state monopolies, and trading in private salt was illegal. Weighing the options, merchants were still willing to make this deal.

Now that the court’s reserves were somewhat strained, resorting to this instrument was not surprising.

But what Zhù Ying was actually thinking was: “I can finally have a legitimate reason to involve myself in salt affairs.” Wuzhou had previously produced no salt; now that its borders had extended to the sea, it lacked knowledge of salt-making methods.

Zhù Ying noted down all these prefectures.

The day’s work done, she returned home, and Chen Meng and his son arrived at just the right moment, having timed their visit to coincide with her return from court. Zhù Ying spoke first: “Congratulations.”

Chen Meng replied, “Thank you.”

Everything that needed to be said was said without words.

Chen Meng had also heard the news of Marquis Leng’s retirement, and said, “Since he claims to be ill, why don’t we go pay him a sick visit?”

Zhù Ying said, “Certainly!”

The two brought gifts and rode to the Leng household, where a few people had already come to inquire after him. There, Zhù Ying encountered Zheng Chuan, Shi Jixing, and others.

Leng Yun came out to receive the visitors: “Many thanks to all of you for thinking of us. My father is truly indisposed, and he appreciates the thought. Father says that once he’s better, he’ll invite everyone for wine.”

Zhù Ying paid close attention: once all the visitors departed, the Leng household did not specifically detain anyone. She and Chen Meng also set off on their way home. They had a stretch of street to walk before going their separate ways.

Zhù Ying asked, “How many more days of leave do you have?”

“Just tomorrow,” Chen Meng said, “I’ll be at court the day after. I need to get some bedding packed up to leave at the Jingzhao Prefectural Office.”

Zhù Ying said, “Watch yourself when you return. The air doesn’t smell right.”

Chen Meng said, “Isn’t that the truth — with Wang Prime Minister gone, people’s hearts are uneasy, and now Marquis Leng has retired like this.”

Zhù Ying gave a slight wave of her hand. Chen Meng understood, and the two parted ways.

…——

The next day, Chen Meng paid a call on his father-in-law’s family, the Shi family, then returned home to pack up his bedding. The day after, his leave expired and he returned to court; after the session, the Emperor received him in private audience — nothing but pleasantries were exchanged. Leaving the palace, he tucked his bedding roll under his arm and formally assumed his post as Jingzhao Prefect.

The Jingzhao Prefectural Office had been without a prefect for two years. Upon arriving, Chen Meng had no choice but to review everything from the beginning. Of the old staff from the time when Wang Yunhe had served as Jingzhao Prefect, almost none remained; those who had been young then now had silver threading through their hair and beards. On the other hand, several people who had served under Zheng Xi’s tenure were still in their prime years.

Chen Meng inevitably had to establish regulations, review personnel, tighten security at the gates, finish the day’s work, and then look over the prefectural office’s supplementary allowances, calling the account books back in.

This was more or less the standard routine when arriving at any yamen.

During this time, not a single formal complaint came in.

The timing of Chen Meng’s arrival was quite fortuitous — it was the season for official evaluations, and with the performance assessments of all the officials and clerks in his hands, he secured the compliance of the great majority of people without much effort.

As time moved into the tenth month and the weather grew colder, the homes of those with means began to light their charcoal basins. Chen Meng had gradually settled into his post as Jingzhao Prefect when he summoned the deputy prefect and the law officer and asked, “In all the time since I took up this post, why has there not been a single written complaint?”

The law officer said, “We are at the very foot of the Son of Heaven, the most virtuous region in the realm — presumably the people here are of such upstanding character that there are no disputes or lawsuits.”

Nonsense, Chen Meng thought. Did he think Chen Meng didn’t know what the capital was really like? The people simply did not dare to file complaints! He would have to find a way to take on a few cases and establish his authority.

So Chen Meng said, “Post a public notice: this prefect is sitting in court to handle matters! Anyone with a grievance, bring it forward!”

“Yes.”

Chen Meng knew that any number of watching eyes were upon him, waiting to see if he could manage as Wang Yunhe once had. He knew he could not. Princess Anren, for instance — Wang Yunhe had held firm against her; he would need to be more cautious, as she was the Crown Princess’s grandmother. He had drawn his own line for himself: anything involving a life, he would handle strictly; everything else, he could turn a blind eye to.

Having drawn this line, he felt confident he could hold to it and went to bed that night in peace.

For two consecutive days, the citizens of the capital observed and waited.

Chen Meng went to court without wavering. This day at court nothing happened, and Chen Meng was still wondering whether a complaint had come in when, on his way out after the session, Leng Yun stopped him and handed him an invitation card.

Chen Meng was somewhat surprised. He opened it to find that Marquis Leng was holding a birthday banquet, scheduled for half a month hence. The first birthday celebration after Marquis Leng’s retirement — Chen Meng said, “I will certainly be there.”

Leng Yun smiled. “Then we look forward to your honored presence!”

A household of that standing would typically hold a birthday celebration over three consecutive days. Chen Meng was arranged to attend on the first day. When the appointed day came, he arrived to find a portion of familiar faces, though Zhù Ying was not among them. He asked Leng Yun, “Why isn’t Sanlang here? That doesn’t seem right.”

Leng Yun said, “There are quite a few guests — it doesn’t do to have them all at once, so they’ve been distributed over three days. She’ll be here tomorrow.”

…——

Zhù Ying had been purposely arranged for the second day.

She had not managed to see Marquis Leng during the sick visit. She waited three more days and then made another trip to the Leng household.

This time, the people gathered at the Leng household’s gate had thinned considerably, and Zhù Ying was able to see Marquis Leng without difficulty.

Marquis Leng was reclining on a chaise, a maidservant kneeling on the footstool to massage his legs. As soon as Zhù Ying came in, he sent the maidservant away and stepped into his shoes to stand: “You’ve come again!”

Beside him, Leng Yun pursed his lips and said, “Is it bad to have someone come see you?”

Marquis Leng made as if to strike him. Leng Yun twitched involuntarily, then recovered his composure. “Ahem! We’ve been playing like this since I was a child — aren’t you tired of it by now? Sanlang is here — can’t we all sit down and have a proper conversation?”

Host and guests sat, and Zhù Ying asked again after Marquis Leng’s health. “Your retirement was very sudden.”

Marquis Leng shook his head and said, “The fruit falls when it’s ripe. If I’d stayed and then been driven away, that would have been most undignified. Wang Yunhe had a reputation fine enough to weather it out. I cannot.”

At the mention of Wang Yunhe, all three fell silent for a moment. Zhù Ying said, “Seeing you in good health, I am relieved. I know what to say when I go back outside.”

Marquis Leng smiled and said, “I’ve retired — why would there be anything to say? Oh right, the invitation card — bring it out!”

Leng Yun produced an invitation and gave it to Zhù Ying. “You must come! I’ll be expecting your birthday gift!”

It was for Marquis Leng’s birthday celebration.

Zhù Ying said, “I will certainly be there!”

When the actual day arrived, Zhù Ying was in quite a good mood — she had finally finished the draft of next year’s budget and distributed the quotas to each prefecture.

Before the inevitable haggling with the regional governors began, a good meal first seemed quite fitting.

Arriving at the Leng Marquis’s residence, Zhù Ying found that Zheng Xi had also come. Others present included the Censorate’s Grand Censor Wang, General Ye from the Imperial Guards, Chai Guanglu — the uncle of Chai Lingyuan, Minister Ruan from the Ministry of Works, Deputy Adjudicator Lin Zan accompanying a Lin Shilang, Chief Agricultural Officer Yang from the Office of Agriculture, and others. Among all these people, there existed various family-by-marriage connections, and with no more than three steps of separation, one could trace a kinship link between any of them.

Leng Yun pulled Zhù Ying to the front, placing her with this group of people, and smiled. “These are all familiar faces, yes?”

Zhù Ying glanced left and right. How could she not understand? She smiled and said, “We meet constantly in court — but this is more at ease than in the palace.”

Zheng Xi pointed to the seat beside him, inviting her to come sit down. He smiled. “That ease is precisely the point.”

Marquis Leng said, “Since we can be at ease, we should gather more often. Not counting you — the rest of these people must take turns hosting.”

The upper seats were occupied by these people; further down, Leng Yun’s sons attended to a group of similar-aged young men, among whom Zheng Chuan was something of a central figure.

Zhù Ying was in some ways out of place among them, yet somehow not too conspicuous. Ever since she had entered officialdom, roughly a third of her colleagues had come from these very families. Another quarter or so carried surnames like Shi, Yao, and Zhong. Only the remainder came from other backgrounds.

Now, at her current level, about half of those who held comparable positions came from these same families. If one included the Chen, Shi, and Yao clans, the total reached a third.

Zhù Ying had no kin, no children, no family-by-marriage connections — but she had been brought in by Zheng Xi. Not to regard her as one of their own would have seemed difficult to justify.

Zheng Xi and the others offered Marquis Leng their birthday felicitations, and Marquis Leng simply sat and accepted them, saying, “Your elders and I have spent our whole lives laboring away. It is time to rest. From here on, it is up to you. Be loyal ministers and do things that are truly of benefit to His Majesty. Do not let everything fall to His Majesty to worry about.”

Everyone rose to their feet and drank this cup of birthday wine together.

Then music and dancing began. Marquis Leng said no more of consequence — he received some compliments, told a few jokes, or recalled amusing stories about someone or another when they were children.

Zheng Xi did not stay long. When the music and dancing began, he took his leave, and Leng Yun saw him out.

Zhù Ying, on the other hand, stayed until the very end, appearing to be simply a junior generation member paying respects to a senior.

…

From that day on, no one was seen doing anything in particular, yet the entire court appeared calm and placid, as if nothing at all were amiss. The regional governors were arriving in the capital one by one. They had first to “present their reports,” and the time to discuss the budget had not yet come — Zhù Ying was not yet at her most pressed.

One day, returning home from the palace, Zhù Ying spotted Zhù Wen standing at the street corner from a distance, craning his neck to look around. Zhù Ying urged her horse forward at a faster pace — Zhù Wen’s behavior was unusual; he was ordinarily steady and composed. If he looked like this, something had happened.

Rounding the corner, Zhù Wen came running over. “My lord — Prime Minister Zheng has come.”

Zhù Ying asked, “Did he say anything?”

Zheng Xi was not at home in mourning — what would bring him here?

Zhù Wen shook his head. “Nothing — just said he came to see you. Lin Feng and Xiao Mei are with him in the main hall having tea.”

Zhù Ying said, “Let’s go!”

Reaching the gate, she saw the Zheng household’s carriage and horses. Zhù Ying dismounted and nodded to the Zheng household’s grooms and retainers. She said to Zhù Wen, “Why aren’t they being better received?”

A man smiled and said, “My lord should know — the others have already gone inside. I am the one assigned to stand watch with the lead horse today.”

Zhù Ying said, “Then have a pot of hot tea brought out as well.” Then she strode inside.

Zheng Xi was at that moment speaking with Zhù Qingjun. He was fairly well acquainted with Lin Feng and Su Zhe, but Zhù Qingjun was a point of curiosity to him. Placed before Zheng Xi, Zhù Qingjun was someone one might call “unremarkable in appearance” — yet, since Zhù Ying judged her capable of being a military officer, Zheng Xi had to ask a few questions: “Where are you from? Is there still family at home? Do you miss home?”

Zhù Qingjun said, “There has been no family at home for a long time. It is because of my lord that I have even a bowl of rice to eat.”

At the sound of footsteps, Zhù Qingjun stepped back a little. Su Zhe and the others all rose. Zhù Ying saw that Zheng Xi was dressed in plain attire, and appeared quite composed. She said, “How did you come to be here? If there was something to discuss, you could have just sent someone.”

Zheng Xi said, “How could that do? For an important matter, it is better to come in person. Since you moved house, I haven’t been here yet — won’t you show me your study?”

“Please,” said Zhù Ying, giving a slight gesture with her hand to one side. Su Zhe and the others did not follow.

The two went to Zhù Ying’s study. By now, she had accumulated quite a collection of books there. A servant lit the lamps, brought tea, and then stepped back and withdrew.

The two sat down. Zheng Xi looked at the study’s furnishings, which were quite unpretentious, and said, “You’re still so careless about yourself. That desk over there is too plain — do you remember when that pair of ritual bronze vessels was placed on top? Didn’t it look so much better?”

Zhù Ying said, “I’ve put them in the storeroom — I’ll have them retrieved. These past days have been so calm that I thought you might not be comfortable moving around yet.”

Zheng Xi said, “I’m not under house arrest!”

“That’s not a pleasant way to put it,” Zhù Ying said. “So then — what brings you here?”

Zheng Xi said, “Da Lang cannot be given to you. But since the point was made about learning practical administration, let’s do it properly. I’ll arrange for him to go to a local post and serve there seriously — a real local appointment! He should not go to an overly wealthy and prosperous place; an assignment like that would make for a polished record and a smooth path, but there would be little to learn. Going too far away would also make me uneasy. I’m thinking of sending him to the northern territories.”

He looked at Zhù Ying steadily. When she had gone to Fulu County all those years ago, he had not been pleased about it either. But judging by Zhù Ying’s experience, going to a relatively difficult place had genuinely tempered a person.

Zhù Ying said, “Three years probably won’t be enough. He’d only just be getting a feel for things when he’d have to come back — not enough time to wash away habits of easy living.”

“Very well — I’ll defer to your judgment,” Zheng Xi said. “But the northern territories are vast. Which place would be most suitable?”

Zhù Ying said, “If we’re talking about the northern territories — a Regional Governor would be slightly beyond his current qualifications, while a County Magistrate would be beneath his standing. A Prefectural Administrator would be just right. I know of a place that suits him.”

The place she had in mind was a good one. The current administrator there was someone Zhù Ying thought highly of — in fact, she had been thinking of promoting him. Now was a perfect opportunity: promote him, and that frees up the position for Zheng Chuan. Let Zheng Xi expend the effort and build the goodwill with Zheng Xi. That administrator had three counties under him, and one of the county magistrates was a graduate of the Wuzhou official school.

That way, Zheng Chuan, as the prefectural administrator, would at least have “someone in his corner” below him — there would be someone to tell him the truth about what was actually happening down below. Three county magistrates of different backgrounds meant there would inevitably be tensions and conflicts among them; letting them give Zheng Chuan a little grief was no bad thing at all.

The Regional Governor above was Governor Yang, a kinsman of the former Censorate Grand Censor Yang — and the Yang family and the Zheng family were old acquaintances.

Zhù Ying said, “When I was in the northern territories, I made a thorough survey — population, land, men and women, all figures are on record. Before Da Lang sets out, I’ll have them compiled, so he will at least have something to go on.”

Zheng Xi settled the matter: “Good! All as you have arranged!”

Zhù Ying said, “Once the bow is drawn, there is no turning back.”

Zheng Xi gave a light laugh. “You remind me of this only now — isn’t it a bit late? Merit and contribution were never meant to create servitude. The people I have brought forward are not meant to become servants either!”

“Yes.”

Zheng Xi said, “In court, keep a close eye on things. Shisan Lang and the others were born into wealth, and their overbearing manner makes them easily provoked to anger.”

“Understood.”

Zheng Xi offered a few more words of advice to Zhù Ying, but did not stay to eat, returning to the Zheng household to resume his “reclusive” lifestyle.

…

Zhù Ying had assumed that the thing most requiring attention going forward would be calming Zheng Yi and his circle — with Wang Yunhe gone, his students and protégés had lost their patron, and given the temperament of people like Zheng Yi, how could they resist kicking a man when he was down?

But the great event of the following day was that someone filed a complaint against Zheng Yi’s elder brother, Zheng Yan!

Chen Meng had finally received a written complaint — and though it did not involve a life, it burned his hand badly enough.

An elderly couple had come to the Jingzhao Prefectural Office and filed a complaint against Zheng Yan: drunk and lewd in his conduct, he had taken liberties with their daughter. When he sobered up, he had sent people to dump a load of “betrothal gifts” before them and then forcibly taken the girl into his household. When the elderly couple went to demand her back, the household’s servants had beaten them.

Chen Meng’s forehead broke out in a sweat, yet he forced himself to say steadily, “Summon Zheng Yan.”

Zheng Yan was not required to appear in person; what came was his household manager, bearing his calling card. According to the manager, this family ran a small wineshop. Zheng Yan had unfortunately drunk too much, but the fact that they hadn’t fled when they saw a drunk man approaching surely meant the girl “had feelings” for Zheng Yan.

This was a romantic affair. Zheng Yan had subsequently provided proper gifts, and there was a written document with the girl’s father’s red thumbprint on it. They were clearly being stirred up by someone and were trying to extort money!

But the elderly couple kowtowed at every step forward: “She is our only daughter — we were raising her to live at home and bring a husband in. Who in their right mind would willingly send their child into that deep mansion as a prisoner?”

Chen Meng’s heart lurched.

The Zheng household produced documentary evidence. The elderly couple said, “They pressed our hands down to make the print themselves.”

The Zheng household said, “If written documents can no longer serve as proof, what can be trusted? And a lying old man’s bare words can be believed?”

Chen Meng had both parties detained, but then privately sent his own household retainers to quietly make inquiries. He found that a young shop boy from the elderly couple’s establishment was anxiously trying to establish contact outside the jail to see them. Chen Meng’s family retainer worked information out of him, and learned that the girl’s molestation and abduction were real.

Chen Meng still had doubts: ordinary people seldom dared to bring a case like this. He had someone watch the shop boy and, sure enough, saw a man dressed as a scholar whispering to him.

Chen Meng had the scholar brought into the prefectural office for questioning. The scholar was a man of backbone. “I can read the notice you posted. Zheng’s household has broken the law. How to investigate is your business.”

The instigation was real instigation; the crime was also a real crime. Only now did he truly understand how much trouble his father had shouldered on his behalf when he was first sent to a local post.

Chen Meng felt the weight of his responsibility acutely. The suffocating pressure of his youth came flooding back over him.

Harder hit than he were Shi Jixing and Lin Zan.

Among the regional governors arriving in the capital was a troublemaker — and he was not even a Regional Governor, but an Alternate Governor taking his regular turn to come up to the capital. His name was Jiang Zheng. He did not merely bring the required documents, grain and tax levies, and candidates for the imperial examinations — he had brought with him an enormous case!

Within his jurisdiction, there was a branch of the Wang family. On the surface, they appeared to be a distinguished clan known for charitable works; in private, they perpetrated every kind of evil. There were cases of forcing themselves on the household’s female servants, murdering people to silence them, and more — and in the process of investigating these matters, additional crimes came to light: incest within the family itself, as well as seizures of peasant land and the like. But the regional governor of that area had been intimidated by the Wang family’s power and had covered it all up.

Jiang Zheng quietly brought a long train of witnesses and physical evidence all the way to the capital, determined to see the matter through.

Shi Jixing was deeply envious of Zhù Ying, who had no such rubbish to deal with!

Zhù Ying learned of this through Zhao Zhen and others. Zhao Zhen was at the Court of Judicial Review, and one look at the situation told him it was not good. That same evening he came to the Zhù residence and laid out the situation at the Court of Judicial Review in full.

“I can see something’s wrong. Though they did commit various crimes as usual, the sort that makes it to the Court of Judicial Review wouldn’t normally look like this. And this isn’t the only one — a couple of days ago, there was another one, also about powerful households bullying and oppressing people to the point of death, all of them cases that connect back to powerful families in the capital. Are they out of their minds?” Zhao Zhen said.

The name Jiang Zheng rang a faint bell for Zhù Ying. If she remembered correctly, he should have been one of the officials sent out of the capital for experience by the Council of State back then — in the same cohort as herself and Luo Jiaxiu.

Zhù Ying said, “I understand. Go back to the Court of Judicial Review and remember just one thing — adjudicate according to the law! So long as you handle it impartially, if anything goes wrong, I will bear it.”

“Yes.”

Zhù Ying gave nothing away, invited Zhao Zhen to stay for dinner, and after dinner Zhao Zhen returned to his quarters. Zhù Ying summoned Zhù Qingjun and Xiang An to her.

Both were dressed neatly and efficiently. Though not tall, they both looked entirely capable.

Zhù Ying said, “Family is about to come. They can’t keep wondering about you forever. The two of you should go back home once.”

She planned to have some items assembled from the capital, then dispatch Zhù Qingjun and Xiang An to escort them south. The capital intelligence network would temporarily be handed over to another young woman, Zhù Qingtian. This girl was not yet twenty, also from the estate, and had a particular admiration for Su Qingtian. Having received Su Qingtian’s care on the road north, she had decided to take “Qingtian” as part of her own name in Su’s honor.

Xiang An had always been at her side, and Xiang An’s mother was constantly uneasy about her daughter. Zhù Qingjun had been entrusted to Zhù Ying by Huajie. Sending both of them home with their official certificates of appointment would ease the minds of those two women. Huajie could bear it well enough, but Xiang An’s mother was not young anymore — not letting her see her daughter settled before she died would be a pity.

The two answered: yes.

Zhù Ying said to Xiang An, “Erlang and A’Yu will remain in the capital. I still have use for them. You may take along any letters they have for home.”

“Yes.”

Zhù Ying said to Zhù Qingjun, “You have another assignment.”

Zhù Ying personally assembled the things to send home, and deliberately chose a chest of purple silk for Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da to have clothes made from. She also instructed Zhù Qingjun: “When you return, tend carefully to the estate. Hou Wu is getting on in years — the estate’s defense, you must hold up. You will encounter difficulties, but you are a military officer now.”

“Yes!”

“Staying in the capital any longer would be a waste of your time. Now you have a proper, legitimate official appointment — go home with it. Take charge of the estate for me. Manage it in consultation with A’Jie! You’ve spent these past few years at my side and have learned what you needed to learn, understood what you needed to understand. It’s time to take charge!”

“Yes.”

Zhù Ying’s meaning was clear enough — the estate was to be placed in Zhù Qingjun’s hands. Zhù Qingjun’s heart surged with excitement. She loved the northern territories. There, she could carve out a career with her own true ability — blade by blade, arrow by arrow — and it didn’t matter whether you were master or slave, man or woman: cut off one head and you were counted for one. Back at court, it was suddenly as if none of it counted anymore.

It was like laboring in someone’s household, earning one coin for carrying each sack of rice. You carry a hundred sacks, and then they give you a pin worth a hundred coins, tell you the pin is worth exactly that much, but won’t give you the coins directly. And from tomorrow you don’t need to come in anymore. This pin, if you wanted to go exchange it for cash — there’s nowhere to exchange it.

Unbearably stifling!

Zhù Ying then took out a document. “Take this back and study it together with Su Mingluan. These are methods for salt production.”

“Yes.”

“No matter what news you hear from the capital, do not panic or be unsettled. Stay composed!”

“Yes.”