Magistrate Xu stood at the crossroads, his expression somewhat anxious.

Adjutant Pang said, “My Lord, what are you worried about?”

Magistrate Xu said, “I don’t know how things are going in Wuzhou.”

Adjutant Pang smiled and said, “Wuzhou isn’t under our jurisdiction. The envoy is the son of Chancellor Chen — one must show respect not only to the monk but to the Buddha behind him. What is there to worry about?”

Magistrate Xu said, “It’s precisely because he’s the Chancellor’s son that I’m worried. Should anything go wrong, I’m afraid you and I will be implicated.”

This made Adjutant Pang worry as well. The two men together gazed down the road that Chen Mei had taken. Wuzhou was vast, and there were several routes into the mountains. The southern route passed through Asu County, the northern through Talang County, and the middle road, while shorter, was the most treacherous — it wound through an extremely long and narrow gorge.

Chen Mei was now traveling that middle road.

Neither Magistrate Xu nor Adjutant Pang had personally traveled that route, but they had made inquiries. It was extremely long and narrow — looking up, one could see only a slender thread of sky. At the far end of the path stood a mountain bearing a simple fortified garrison. It was truly a place where one man could hold the pass against ten thousand.

Magistrate Xu said, “I’ll wait right here until he comes out.”

Adjutant Pang said, “There’s nothing pressing at the prefectural office anyway, so I might as well stay here and take in the mountain scenery. This view is worthy of a painting!”

The two unfortunate souls settled in nearby. Magistrate Xu summoned local merchants and village headmen to inquire how long it typically took an ordinary traveler to make the journey, and also sought out those who knew the route well — so that, should the deadline pass, he could dispatch someone into the mountains to investigate.

Meanwhile, Chen Mei’s journey was proceeding without too much difficulty. He was a man who had followed an army on campaign before, so enduring a little hardship was within his capacity. What troubled him far more, in truth, was making conversation with Su Zhe. The deeper into the mountains they went, the narrower and steeper the road became. Zhao Su noticed Chen Mei’s discomfort and took Su Zhe’s place beside him, telling him, “This road was newly built just a few years ago — before that, there was nothing but a dirt track worn down by men and horses.”

Chen Mei sighed. “That’s no small undertaking, even so.” At least the road had been straightened and leveled.

Zhao Su said, “Indeed. Right now it’s fine, but when the rains come, this road is impassable. Any stone tumbling down from above can kill a man. To get to the villa, one has to take the long way around.”

Chen Mei asked, “The villa?”

Zhao Su smiled. “We’ll have to wait until after you’ve read the imperial edict before we can use a different term.”

Chen Mei said, “You needn’t be so guarded. I’ve brought the edict with me — do you really fear the court will go back on its word?”

Zhao Su said, “It’s not quite that. It’s more that we know there are those at court who are not pleased.”

Chen Mei said, “Who could please everyone? Still, my uncle — ah, her elderly self — truly caught everyone off guard this time.”

The three talked as they traveled, pausing to drink water and rest when conversation tired them. All three were young, and they traveled without family members or heavy baggage. By shortly after midday they had reached the legendary “Thread of Sky.”

The moment they entered the mountain pass, Chen Mei felt a chill creep over him. His horse grew uneasy too, halting in place and pawing the ground. Zhao Su rode alongside him, saying, “Good that we made it in time — the afternoon heat is at its worst, but this road stays cool and shaded. Please, after you.”

Chen Mei urged his horse forward and the two rode side by side.

The further they went, the cooler it grew. Behind Chen Mei, the only sounds were human breathing and the occasional stamp of a hoof. The mountains on both sides seemed to press inward, and the sound of breath — from both man and beast — grew slightly louder. He had no idea how long they had been walking when, all at once, the sense of oppressiveness deepened, and Su Zhe’s voice suddenly took on a note of excitement: “Almost there — once we’re past this checkpoint, it’s just a short walk to the villa.”

Chen Mei’s spirits lifted immediately.

When the group reached the checkpoint, Chen Mei found that its position was perfectly chosen — yet there were not many guards, perhaps several dozen, and the checkpoint itself was not large. The entire south — or rather, everything he had seen of Wuzhou in the past few days — was, compared to the north and especially the capital, desolate and impoverished.

It was a different kind of desolation from the northwest, where the eye met nothing but sand in every direction. Here there were mountains and water, yet the moment one had any contact with the place, one sensed its poverty. The northwest, though vast and sparse in resources, allowed a man to stretch himself — on that flat terrain, one could run freely in any direction. In mountain forest, any movement quickly meant jolting up and down, bumping left and right. Even where roads existed, they wound and coiled. And then there were snakes, insects, rodents, and stones tumbling down from the heights above.

A land of miasma and pestilence!

Jiyuan Prefecture had twenty years of Zhù Ying’s governance behind it, and while it was no match for the grandeur of the north, its towns had long ceased to fit the description of “miasma and pestilence.” Now that he was actually inside the mountains, Chen Mei truly understood, for the first time, why exile here was considered only one step below the death penalty.

Zhao Su and Su Zhe, however, appeared entirely at ease. The two of them verified their identities with the soldiers guarding the checkpoint, who stared curiously at this high official from beyond the mountains.

Chen Mei nodded to them with a smile and took note of the javelins they held. They were well-maintained, the spearheads bright and gleaming. The soldiers were not especially tall, but they looked lean and strong. Ah — soldiers trained under his uncle always seemed to be well taken care of.

After traveling a little farther, the “villa” came into view just before nightfall.

Chen Mei thought to himself: when did the preparations for this place begin? No wonder she never seemed flustered. No wonder she dared to request so modest a title as county magistrate.

A rider from the escort galloped ahead into the settlement to announce their arrival, but halfway there, he abruptly reined in his horse: “My Lord?”

Zhù Ying stepped out from beneath a tree by the roadside: “Has my little sister and the others returned?”

“Yes!” the rider said. “They’ve already reached the gates of the villa!”

Zhù Ying bent down and patted a small child on the head. “I have business now. We’ll stop here for today — come find me again in a couple of days to play.”

Another little one pushed its head forward too, pointing at its own scalp. Zhù Ying gave it a pat as well. The whole cluster of children, as though receiving a signal, surrounded her, each pressing their heads toward her. Zhù Ying could only ruffle this one’s hair and pinch that one’s cheek. “All right, I really must go and tend to things.”

The children were reluctant to let her go. One bold, lively boy asked, “My Lord, two days — is that right? Today is one day, tomorrow is one day, and then the day after?”

Zhù Ying smiled. “Yes.”

“Right here, under this tree?”

“Yes. Off you go.”

The boy who had spoken said, “You have to come, all right? I’ll bring the rice cakes my mother makes!”

“Fine, and I’ll bring you all sweets.”

The children cheered. Zhù Ying unhooked a ox-horn bugle from her waist and began to blow it — a long, echoing call. At the sound of the horn, many people throughout the villa began to move according to pre-arranged plans — preparations had to be made to receive the imperial envoy.

When she finished blowing, Zhù Ying hung the horn back at her waist and set off toward the gate. But the children did not scatter. They all stood under the trees by the roadside watching her go. They had all been born after Zhù Ying had left, and originally they had no familiarity with her at all. Their parents were busy earning a living, and the older children each had their own tasks and chores.

The villa was different from outside. Outside was a proper school run by officials appointed by the court; the villa, though it treated people well, lacked the resources for serious academic study. The younger children had been gathered together for half a day of lessons — simple literacy, arithmetic, basic knowledge — and then let loose in the afternoons.

When Zhù Ying returned to the villa, she did not immediately take over all administrative affairs. Her usual manner held — she wandered first.

Naturally, she stumbled into a crowd of small children racing about in every direction, and the two parties immediately got along famously.

The children had no real conception of who she was. They only knew that the people living in the big house were all good people, and that the person before them had bright, sparkling eyes — she was fun. Xiao Jiang was somewhat melancholy, and Huajie was warm and gentle; the two women were the same age, both nearing fifty, which was a grandmother’s age to these children. They could inspire affection and closeness, but neither of them was like Zhù Ying — storming into a pack of children and playing right along with them, acting as the ringleader.

And she was not only literate and versed in the same books as the women — she knew far more besides. Climbing walls, scaling trees, shooting arrows, fighting — in every one of these, she was more skilled than the children themselves.

All of that was before Chen Mei arrived.

……

Chen Mei, conscious of his position, did not presume to have Zhù Ying come outside the settlement to meet him, and so he followed Zhao Su and Su Zhe inside.

Chen Mei knew that powerful local families often had their own estates, and that the largest of these could rival towns established by the court itself. But this “Zhù Family Estate” — his first impression was simply: orderly planning. He could say with certainty that from the very beginning, this place had been designed as a home settlement. The districts were clearly delineated, the markets neatly arranged. Some small county towns that had grown up organically over centuries of settlement were not as methodically organized as this.

He took careful note of the “villa” all around him. Setting aside the height of the walls and the depth of the moats, he could tell the care its owner had put into the place just by looking at the people who lived here. There were differences in wealth, but the gaps between people were not as wide as they were outside. He walked for quite a while and did not spot a single beggar in the settlement. He had grown up as the son and grandson of chancellors, and he had seen poverty — people in rags could be found anywhere. Here in the villa, some had patched clothing, others had their trouser legs rolled up, but everyone had a complete set of clothes.

Ordinary people could not expect to be plump and well-fed, yet there was no one wasting away like withered wood either.

Chen Mei’s admiration grew deeper and deeper, until Su Zhe beside him suddenly called out: “Grandmaster!”

Chen Mei looked up sharply and saw Zhù Ying walking toward them down the road. She had no attendants, no guards — only herself, dressed in a dark navy men’s robe, with a leather belt at her waist and a small gold crown on her head, looking no different from how she appeared in the capital. Chen Mei tried hard to find in her bearing anything that marked her as a woman, and failed.

He jumped down from his horse, stepped forward, and clasped his hands. His mouth opened of its own accord and said, “Uncle.”

Zhù Ying said, “You’ve had a long journey.” She then said a few reassuring words to his attendants, who were privately murmuring among themselves: she really didn’t look much like a woman — surely this wasn’t all just some slander?

When the two drew close enough, Chen Mei noticed that Zhù Ying had changed slightly. Her clothing was somewhat simpler, and her bearing was more relaxed. In those final years in the capital, everyone had carried a sense of frustration. Chen Mei had already thought Zhù Ying the most unruffled of them all — yet seeing her now, he realized that back in the capital, she too had carried her worries.

Her clothing had also been subtly altered — more fitted than ordinary men’s robes, which made her look a little slimmer. The close-fitting cut also lent her movements a kind of effortless freedom.

She looked even less like a woman than before.

And yet Chen Mei felt somehow more at ease. This was the Zhù Ying he knew best.

Zhù Ying walked shoulder to shoulder with him toward the main house. Zhao Su and Su Zhe went ahead, calling out to those they passed: “This is the envoy sent from the capital to confer the imperial appointment!”

The onlookers laughed and began to comment among themselves.

When they reached the front of the main house, the welcoming ceremony commenced. Chen Mei saw a cluster of people in official robes — among them, Lin Feng and Lu Danqing, whom he knew well, and Zhù Qingjun, who had come back for the occasion.

Zhù Ying said, “Come, let me introduce everyone.”

Chen Mei could only pick out Su Mingluan at first glance, and from among the crowd he also found Huajie and Xiao Jiang, distinguishing the two by their gait. The rest required Zhù Ying’s introductions. He noticed that the Mountain Sparrow father-in-law kept his eyes fixed on him, which put Chen Mei somewhat on guard.

Zhao Su said, “I’ll go and bring the incense table.”

Chen Mei shifted slightly closer to Zhù Ying’s side.

Once the incense table was set up, Chen Mei announced the appointment without delay. The imperial edict was one that had been fought over — the rebukes and reprimands had been deleted again and again until only the conventional phrases about loving and governing the people remained. Then came the official robe, which Huajie stepped forward to receive.

When it was all done, Chen Mei said with a smile, “State affairs are concluded. Now it’s family matters. Before I set out, my father charged me to make sure I paid his respects to your parents.”

Zhù Ying said, “Follow me.”

Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da were both in the rooms at the back. Zhù Da had dragged out a reclining chair and was lying under the eaves, idly flipping a few copper coins in a half-hearted attempt at fortune-telling. A rider who had run ahead helped the two of them into the main hall, and they had barely taken their seats before Zhù Ying arrived with Chen Mei and the others.

Neither Zhang Xiangu nor Zhù Da recognized him. Once Zhù Ying made the introductions, Zhang Xiangu exclaimed: “Goodness, and you’re already this big! When we first met, your father was about your age.”

Chen Mei was handsome and pleasing to the eye, and called out, “A’Pó” — Grandmother — at every turn. He spoke of how much his parents missed Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da, and said not a word about Zhù Ying being a woman.

He charmed the two elders so thoroughly that they beamed from ear to ear, and only when Zhù Ying gently pointed out that a banquet had been prepared did Zhang Xiangu finally let him go. “It’s cold in the evenings,” she called after them, “make sure to give Second Son a thick quilt that’s been aired in the sun.”

Zhù Ying said, “I’ll remember.”

Once Chen Mei and Zhù Ying had left Zhang Xiangu’s main room, and seeing her in what seemed like good spirits, Chen Mei put forward the question Chen Meng had asked him to raise: “I’ve heard there are two aunts living here.”

Zhù Ying raised an eyebrow. “What exactly did he tell you?”

Chen Mei said, “My father said that if he didn’t tell me, I might blurt something out in front of you that would be far more telling, so he was straightforward about it. I suspect there’s more to it than what’s on the surface — am I right?”

“How many people does he want you to look at?”

“Two. If the facts were as simple as they appear, looking at just one would be enough — correct?”

“Come along then, they’re just ahead. Now that the county has been officially established, they have responsibilities too. Wuzhou is three thousand li from the capital, and communications by official dispatch are difficult. If there’s anything to discuss, it’s better to say it all at once and settle things clearly — otherwise things drag on and affairs are delayed.”

“Your meaning is?”

Zhù Ying said, “Now that the county is established, the roster of officials and clerks must be finalized.”

“Oh, of course. That’s easy enough.”

“Come.”

The two of them arrived at the front, where the banquet had already been laid out. Zhù Ying did not immediately take her seat, but first brought Chen Mei before Huajie and Xiao Jiang. “This is the grandson of Chancellor Chen Senior, the youngest son of Chen Da.”

Chen Mei dutifully gave a proper bow to each of them. Xiao Jiang turned aside to avoid it and walked away to sit beside Zhù Qingjun.

Huajie said, “She doesn’t find it easy to interact with people.”

Chen Mei said, “I understand completely. And how are you, Madam? My father and mother think of you often.”

“I’m very well. And your parents — are they keeping well?”

“Quite well.”

Huajie still remembered Chen Mei’s older brother and asked, “What of your eldest? I heard he married.”

“Yes. My sister-in-law is a granddaughter of Chancellor Shi.”

They exchanged a few more words, and then Huajie said, “They’re waiting for you both to open the banquet.”

Zhù Ying and Chen Mei took their seats at the head of the table. Zhù Ying raised her cup first, and everyone drank three rounds — the usual toasts to the Emperor, to the court, and to Chen Mei for the trouble of his journey.

Chen Mei then toasted Zhù Ying, and then each person present in turn.

Once the pleasantries were complete, Su Mingluan rose to the occasion, producing a prepared memorial. Chen Mei first glanced at Zhù Ying, then asked, “What is this?”

Su Mingluan said with righteous confidence, “Our Wuzhou now has six counties, and yet there has never been a single prefectural governor who actually governs in Wuzhou. We ask the court to give us a governor.”

Chen Mei set down his wine cup. He already understood their intent, but still asked: “You have someone in mind already — is that not so?”

“Of course.”

“And that person is written in here?”

The Mountain Sparrow father-in-law said, “Naturally, and we have all set our seals to it. We ask the honored envoy to convey our words to the court. We will only accept the person we have named.”

Chen Mei looked somewhat pained. “This… is not something I can decide.”

A county magistrate was something he could swallow. But Zhù Ying as governor — he feared that might cause the Emperor to drop dead from rage.

Su Mingluan maintained her outstretched posture, holding the memorial forward. Everyone was staring at him. Chen Mei steeled himself and accepted the document. “I… I cannot make any guarantees.”

Zhao Su smiled. “We only ask that you convey it to the court.”

For the remainder of the banquet, Chen Mei could barely taste the food — what was he supposed to do now?

Zhù Ying said, “Don’t worry.”

Chen Mei forced a smile. He still had one more task: to retrieve the document. If he did not agree to this, there was no chance of getting it back. But what if he deceived them into giving it up, returned to the capital, and then the governorship came to nothing?

He didn’t dare.

He had no idea what other moves Zhù Ying might still have.

He could only laugh at himself: “Worrying won’t help — I have no solution anyway. You are always surprising in everything you do, and your strategies are always complete and foolproof. You must have a plan.”

Then, suddenly, curiosity overtook him. “Have you ever miscalculated? Why must you do things this way? You could have lived so much more easily. You had already reached the highest offices of the court. If you hadn’t said a word yourself, who would have known? Why on earth come back to Wuzhou?”

It simply made no sense. Who wouldn’t want to be a power in the capital?

Zhù Ying said, “Who says I’m not living easily now? I’ve freed myself from all the energy I used to spend concealing things. That portion of effort redirected elsewhere — do you know how freely I move now?”

Chen Mei was speechless.

Zhù Ying continued: “As for miscalculations — there have been far too many. When I was small, I only wanted to open a tea stall, support my family, and be done with scraping by. Then I was hauled off to be a live-in son-in-law, and my father got himself tangled up in a lawsuit. While trying to save him, I was caught by Chancellor Zheng, who wanted me as his aide. Once I finally slipped away from him, I ran into your family searching for a lost relative. I followed them to the capital and was thrown into prison by some worthless young dandy with a single careless word. Once out of prison, I sat the exams and became an official, thinking I could spend the rest of my life in peace — and then encountered an assassin. I went south to Wuzhou, hoping to stay tucked away here, but the court grew uneasy with how long I’d been managing the place and insisted on recalling me. By the time I returned to the capital, I was already thirty-two. Thirty-two years, one surprise after another.

Not a single one of those things went as I expected.

Foolproof strategies? Complete plans? Where do you get such ideas?”

“Well…”

Zhù Ying smiled. “In a little while I’ll show you something.”

“All right! Yes!”

……

Pleasantly full from food and drink, Chen Mei tucked the memorial securely away and followed Zhù Ying to her study. By rank, Zhù Ying was still only a county magistrate, and Chen Mei observed the proper courtesy of a junior toward a senior — standing quietly before her desk.

Zhù Ying slid open a drawer and removed an envelope, drawing out a sheet of paper. “Here. Take a look.”

Chen Mei leaned forward on his toes and looked. At the first glance, cold sweat broke out along his spine. This was the very document Chen Meng had sent him to retrieve.

His throat went dry. His voice came out slightly muffled: “This — this is…”

“This uncle of yours — was he your family’s creditor in a past life?”

Chen Mei said, “Who would say otherwise? My father cursed for three whole days at home, but dared not do it too loudly. He was so frustrated he nearly took sick leave.”

“This thing is useless in my hands anyway. With three thousand li between us, I’d find it too remote to use even if I wanted to.”

Chen Mei could not believe his ears. “Then… I can just take it?”

Zhù Ying nodded, then asked, “What’s happening in the capital lately?”

Chen Mei swiftly tucked away the document, his mouth not pausing for a moment: “Things aren’t going well. Chancellor Xian has brought up the old matter again, requesting a reinterpretation of the classics. His Majesty didn’t agree. But he keeps pressing. That group of self-righteous hypocrites under him proposed that henceforth, before entering the examination grounds, candidates must have their identities verified — to prevent so-called ‘fraud.’ Minister Yue considered it an insult to the scholarly class and got into a quarrel with them over it. And then there’s the matter of…”

Zhù Ying smiled. “I understand.”

“What I mean to say, Uncle, is that His Majesty is in fact not in a particularly good mood either. The matter of the Wuzhou governorship will certainly face opposition, and His Majesty will likely be displeased as well. Unless you have some assurance with Chancellor Zheng — my father and he working together might be able to fight for it. Otherwise, I’m afraid this memorial may vanish without a trace.”

“Wuzhou is a tributary state. The court cannot appoint someone from outside — we must choose from among ourselves. And how we govern is also according to our own customs. If I am to serve as governor, the rank must be elevated to that of an upper prefecture. Wuzhou must be permitted to maintain troops, which I would command. The funds, of course, would not come from the court.”

“Ah?”

Zhù Ying said, “As I told you just now — Wuzhou is three thousand li away. Whatever needs to be said is best said all at once, rather than wasting time going back and forth. The court can take its time and posture if it likes, or stall for as long as it pleases. The Western Tribes also happen to be quite fond of the brick tea this region produces.”

Chen Mei was taken aback. “You’re…” Was this truly just a formal courtesy to the court?

Zhù Ying said, “I dislike being the one who extends goodwill only to meet a cold shoulder, and I despise being made to suffer indignities. Anyone who wants to do business with me must trade fairly. When you return, you might also frame it differently — a governorship in exchange for my checking the Western Tribes. No one in the realm would doubt my ability to deliver on that, I think.”

Chen Mei lowered his head and considered for a moment. “Agreed! My father wishes you all well and peace in Wuzhou too. He and Chancellor Zheng have actually grown closer than before.”

“It’s not because they’ve been bonding over criticizing me, is it?”

Chen Mei felt his throat tighten. “No — no, nothing like that.”

Zhù Ying said, “I dislike delays.”

“I’ll set out tomorrow!”

Zhù Ying said, “Once the governor’s appointment has been formally conferred, I’ll have something else for you — for your father and Zheng Qi both.”

“Might I ask what it is?”

Zhù Ying said, “I’ve already given you one thing. You must see my business through first before you can receive the next.”

Chen Mei said, “I’ll be back in Jiyuan Prefecture tomorrow!”