“You’ve never thought about it before?” Zhù Ying looked at Zhù Yan with some surprise.
Zhù Yan and Zhao Su had arrived in Xizhou City a few days earlier. They were in the midst of the review process when news came of the Western Tribes’ incursion. Neither had left immediately; both had decided to stay and observe the situation for a while, and wait until further arrangements were in place before departing. Zhù Ying had found a moment and asked Zhù Yan in earnest about whether he had anyone he had feelings for.
Zhang Xiangu’s reminder had been timely — the younger generation had all grown up, and this was a matter that deserved attention. She had a responsibility here. And looking deeper, it touched on Annan’s future development. Whatever structure and arrangement the next generation and the generation after that took on would all shift with the marriages of these young people.
But when she asked the question, Zhù Yan returned her a look of mild bewilderment — not the helpless uncertainty of “I have someone I like but I don’t know how to say it,” but the genuine confusion of “I haven’t sorted this out yet.”
That was a little strange. Either yes or no — what was there to hesitate about? Even a reply of “I leave it entirely to Teacher’s discretion” would have done.
Zhù Ying was still waiting for an answer. Zhù Yan was still organizing his thoughts.
Zhù Yan turned it over several times in his mind and finally spoke: “I’ve thought about it before, but I haven’t figured it out — I’m not sure which way is better. Once I have my eye on someone, that’s a marriage, a whole lifetime — it needs to be taken seriously.”
He gave Zhù Ying a cautious glance. Facing the teacher who had raised him, Zhù Yan had nothing to hide; he genuinely needed some guidance.
Zhù Ying said, “Tell me whatever’s on your mind — whether there’s someone you like but can’t bring yourself to say it, or whether you’ve run into some difficulty. There’s nothing I won’t hear in this house. Just speak.”
Zhù Yan shook his head. “I… don’t actually have someone I fancy yet. It’s more that I don’t know what kind of person I should fancy.”
That made Zhù Ying laugh outright. “Liking someone is liking them. Not liking is not liking. What’s all this ‘should’ about? Is it just that you haven’t met anyone yet?”
Zhù Yan said, “I don’t know whether I should like someone the way Zhao’s family does, or the way the Jiang family does.”
Zhù Ying grew more intrigued. “Say more.”
“If it were like Elder Brother Zhao’s way — that would also be good. Qi Niangzi is a good person, and her family is good too. But looking at the Jiang family — husband and wife both have their work, neither is simply staying home, and yet it also works well. The trouble is you can’t have both at once, and that leaves me quite uncertain. Here in Annan, the good young women are all buried in their own work — they seem to have time for me, and yet seem not to.”
“What do you mean, ‘seem’?”
Zhù Yan was a touch shy. “There was… there was a girl who sang a song at me, and I didn’t respond, so there was nothing more to it — it didn’t seem like she liked me all that much anyway. I…”
Zhù Ying said, “You’re overthinking it. Liking is liking, not liking is not liking. Follow your own heart. If you meet a girl you like and she’s willing too, come tell me and I’ll arrange the wedding for you. Your own feelings are what matter — I won’t arrange any marriage for you that you don’t want.”
“But isn’t a marriage about joining two families?” Zhù Yan said earnestly. “Like Elder Brother Zhao’s arrangement — Qi Niangzi manages the household, they have children, grow the family line, make alliances through marriage, and relatives support one another. Like Jiang Wan’s situation — even though she has no roots in Annan, both husband and wife hold official posts and can support and rely on each other. Or like the chiefs of the outer five counties — generations of intermarriage, descendants many in number, so the family itself is already a great tree standing on its own. I’m an orphan. I can’t bring outside allies to Teacher’s side, which is ultimately not ideal.”
Zhù Ying said, “You all carry the Zhù name — are you not my branches and leaves?”
Zhù Yan said earnestly, “I’m glad that Teacher considers me family. But I worry: once everyone has wives and children of their own, they’ll have their own private interests. When that happens, Teacher will actually be the most solitary of all. When I was young I didn’t understand. Growing up year by year, doing official work, seeing so many household disputes among the local gentry — how can I not see? Alliances among the gentry are forged through marriage.”
Zhù Ying said, “Does being without family mean being without selfish interests? Zhao Su is the one with the most complex inner workings of all, and yet — is Annan not in his heart? I know what you’re worried about, and yes, countless things have gone wrong for exactly that reason. But since one cannot ask people to cut themselves off from human relationships, one must allow certain things to happen, and to pull and push against each other. That is also a test. What doesn’t survive testing hasn’t truly matured. As long as the roots are all still in Annan, none of it amounts to much. For now, think about yourself — what would make you content?”
Zhù Yan tilted his face up to think, and said, “Growing up, I saw the life Qi Niangzi leads. She took care of me too. But I still feel the Jiang family’s way of living is better.”
“Then you’ll have to court someone until she’s willing.”
“Aah!”
Zhù Ying laughed. “See? It’s quite simple, isn’t it?”
Zhù Yan’s heart eased a little. Households like Zhao Su’s — where the woman kept the home, raised the children, was a devoted wife and mother — were the pattern of nearly every family under heaven. Yet in such households, one couldn’t count on the wife to bear major responsibility. Zhù Ying had told him to think about himself first, but Zhù Yan still felt he needed to think about Teacher as well. He had to be able to carry weight!
Teacher and student each felt they had resolved one matter, and exchanged a smile.
Zhù Ying thought Zhù Yan’s kind of choice was perfectly fine — but she said nothing to make it explicit, leaving Zhù Yan to find his own wife.
Zhù Yan picked up the teapot and refilled Zhù Ying’s cup. Neither teacher nor student was particularly versed in the appreciation of tea — this was simply a moment of rest. They had barely drunk one cup when Zhao Su and Zhù Qingxue came in hurriedly from outside.
Zhù Ying asked, “Why are you back?”
Zhao Su said, “I grabbed the wrong case for my teaching materials — I came back to swap it.”
Zhao Su’s son was living in the administration hall, so he had naturally stayed with his son, and Zhù Ying had promptly put him to work teaching at the school as well. Father and son went to school and came home together — a fine picture of paternal care. Zhao Su taught everything; the evening before, he had rolled up a map to use the next day. In the morning he grabbed it and went. Things in the residence weren’t too particular about matching — a batch of similar-looking cases had been ordered at once, and the cases in Zhao Ji’s room all looked alike. Zhao Su had picked up the nearest one without looking. At school he opened it to find his son’s scribbles. His face had gone green, and he ran back to exchange it.
At the residence gate he encountered a postal courier whose horse had broken its leg — the man had tumbled from the horse and broken his own leg as well. Zhao Su was quick-eyed and quick-handed, helped the man, and after learning what had happened, helped bring the message to Zhù Qingxue.
Zhù Qingxue called out, “Grandmother! A great victory — the Tribal Lord has sent an envoy to discuss peace!”
Zhù Ying and Zhù Yan exchanged a glance. Zhù Ying said, “Where is the messenger?”
Zhù Qingxue said, “His leg is broken — he’s gone to get it bandaged. The Tribal envoy is from the Tribal Lord himself. He’s at our General Zhù’s position. The General didn’t have your authorization and didn’t dare bring him to the residence.”
Zhù Ying read Zhù Qingjun’s dispatch first. It described the process of contact with the envoy, the envoy’s statements, and requested instructions on how to proceed.
Zhù Ying said, “Is Lin Feng still out recruiting and training soldiers?”
Zhù Yan said, “He is. Should he be stopped?”
“No — let him carry on. A fine time for the envoy to arrive — the army being drilled will make it look rather full.”
Zhao Su asked, “A show of strength?”
Zhù Ying spread her hands open. “Where’s the line between a show and the real thing? Frankly, I’d like a few peaceful years myself. In our present state, what do we have to fight with? As long as he doesn’t want to fight, I want it even less. That said — we want peace but we can’t look afraid to fight. So we have to stretch out the stance, let the other side understand. Appear neither too weak nor too strong.
“Kun Da Chi gains nothing by going up against me. He’s better off directing his attention toward the court for advantages. Have Su Zhe and the others come over — we need to prepare to receive a guest.”
The envoy was “escorted” by Zhù Xinle and a detachment of soldiers to Xizhou City. Along the way, everything they passed was scorched black from the recent burning. As they neared Xizhou, they came upon a neat and orderly military encampment.
Zhù Xinle was originally from the Artigan clan and spoke the Flowered Cloth language; after his transfer he had learned Ji Ma speech as well. His command of the frontier tribe languages was only elementary — these past two years he’d been focused on learning common speech. The envoy only spoke the Western Tribe language, so the two communicated only through an interpreter. When Zhù Xinle didn’t want to answer something, he pretended not to understand. The envoy was patient enough — when Zhù Xinle didn’t respond, the envoy didn’t press.
As they approached the outer walls of Xizhou City, the envoy gazed at the city from a distance and suddenly exclaimed with a sigh: “Seeing a city like this — now I truly believe it is Zhù the Chancellor who has come.”
Zhù Xinle’s eyes went wide!
This wretched envoy — he’d been speaking the common tongue the whole time, and better than Zhù Xinle at that! He’d been played for a fool!
Zhao Su came out to receive the envoy. Spotting him from a distance, Zhao Su narrowed his eyes. As he drew closer and approached to exchange greetings, Zhao Su stepped forward and said, “I feel I know the envoy’s face — might we have met in the capital?”
The envoy was not old — his beard still entirely black. He smiled to show his teeth. “Quite so. You also look familiar to me.”
They confirmed it — the envoy had served as part of an embassy that had once visited the capital. The older generation had grown old; now it was the younger generation’s turn to come forward. Annan was hardly the capital, and the envoy’s own rank suited the occasion well enough.
Zhao Su accompanied the envoy inside. Along the way, some among the residents cast unfriendly looks — many people in the new city were survivors from the old city that the “friend” of Pusheng had looted, and they recognized Western Tribe dress by instinct and recoiled from it.
The envoy maintained an easy composure, looking around with curiosity at the road, and remarked, “It truly has the look of a proper settlement. It seems the rumors are false, then — Zhù the Chancellor did not flee south in disgrace?”
Zhao Su said, “Grandmother has always been an official of the court, protecting one side of the realm — what disgrace could there be?”
“The court has accepted a woman as an official in her own right, then?” the envoy asked with a smile.
Zhao Su lowered his voice and said, “The Tribal Lord receives his investiture from the court as well. When you meet Grandmother presently, why not request to see her Commander’s seal and compare it with the one the Tribal Lord holds — won’t you know the answer then?”
“It seems the Chancellor’s situation and my lord’s have something in common.”
Zhao Su’s heart gave a quick beat, but he recovered immediately and said with perfect composure, “That’s not necessarily so.”
The two of them exchanged veiled remarks and wordplay all the way into the administration hall. Once inside the gate, they were back to the courteous pleasantries of “please, after you” and “many thanks.”
Zhù Ying, changed into a purple robe, was seated in the main seat of the great hall. Hearing the announcement as the envoy entered, he straightened his clothes, held the documents with both hands, and strode in with purpose.
The hall was spacious — simpler than the imperial palace in the capital or Kun Da Chi’s own audience hall, but compensated by being new. The two ranks of officials wore the formal court dress of the central court; the guards and servants, however, were all dressed in styles quite unlike anything from the central plains. A faint smile crossed the envoy’s mind as he stepped forward and offered a bow.
There was no contest over protocol. He represented Kun Da Chi, and the Western Tribes and the court were seeking peace — so they were not enemies. Zhù Ying was an official of the court, which meant Kun Da Chi’s envoy owed her no deep bow. As long as she chose not to be deliberately difficult, the meeting would go smoothly.
The envoy announced his credentials and presented Kun Da Chi’s letter. Zhù Qingye received it and placed it on Zhù Ying’s table. Zhù Ying opened it — the seal was authentic.
The letter was clearly not written in Kun Da Chi’s own hand. It was composed in both parties’ languages, and covered two matters. First, a matter of accountability: Chief Pusheng, rough as he was, had at least been a tributary under the Western Tribes; that Zhù Ying had reduced him to such a state — his home stripped to nothing — required an explanation. Surely she could at least return the man his property? Second, a clarification: the attack on the pass had been a misunderstanding arising from pursuing rebel border officials. But this matter couldn’t be blamed on the Western Tribes either, since Zhù Ying had never notified the Western Tribes that she had come here. So he was sending an envoy to make the border situation clear between them. If these two matters couldn’t be settled, he would have to take them up with the Emperor.
Zhù Ying pushed this “state letter” to one side and asked the envoy first, “How is your father’s health?”
She spoke in the Western Tribe language. The envoy was unsurprised and replied, “Thank you for still remembering my father. He is well, though he has grown old and can no longer travel far.”
Zhù Ying said, “So many years have passed. None of us is quite the same as we once were.”
The envoy said, “You haven’t changed.”
Zhù Ying gestured at the long scar on her cheek. “Truly no change at all?”
The envoy said, “For you, it barely qualifies as a change.”
Zhù Ying smiled, the scar on her face entirely without menace. She amiably asked the envoy to go to the guest house and rest, adding, “Within the city, let him see whatever he wants — don’t hinder him.”
The envoy expressed his thanks.
Zhù Ying added, “However, I’ll need someone to accompany you. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”
The envoy replied, “You receive me with such courtesy — why would I do anything untoward?”
“Not you — there was a bandit incident not long ago. Zhao Su — please see the envoy to the guest house.”
Zhao Su’s teaching duties were over. For the next several days he accompanied the envoy on tours through Xizhou City. Xizhou City had been laid out in an orderly fashion; with the harvest in, there were more merchants about than usual, and craftsmen also continued to arrive from various corners of Annan. In addition, products of all kinds from throughout Annan converged on Xizhou City — gold, iron, and salt, needless to say, along with tea from Wuzhou, cinnabar, copper ore, and more.
With the merchant route westward blocked, traders were all doing business within Xizhou City instead. Some anxiety was in the air, but order was maintained.
Zhao Su never impeded the envoy — he simply accompanied him everywhere. After several days in Xizhou City, with no summons from Zhù Ying, the envoy could only hear the sound of soldiers drilling and shouting each day. Judging that the time was about right, the envoy sought an audience of his own accord.
The meeting was again in the administration hall, with the same full attendance as before. The envoy’s tone was now more direct than it had been; after complimenting Xizhou City, he moved to the point: “What reply does the Chancellor have to my lord’s state letter?”
Zhù Ying said, “What have you managed to find out?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Zhù Ying shook her head. “From Annan to the capital, even a fast postal rider takes time. If I gave you my answer now, you’d know too much.”
The envoy showed a flicker of alarm. “The Chancellor suspects too much.”
“You arrived somewhat later than I expected — it seems Kun Da Chi’s domestic affairs are also not entirely smooth.”
The envoy’s breathing paused slightly, his head dropping a fraction lower.
“Sit — let’s take our time and talk.”
The envoy expressed his thanks and sat. He settled himself with steady composure — not nearly as rattled as his expression had implied. Once seated, he once again asked for Zhù Ying’s reply.
Zhù Ying said, “So Kun Da Chi has brought all the tribal factions under his authority?”
The envoy gave a restrained smile.
Zhù Ying gave a nod. “More or less as I estimated. Is your time limit approaching?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Zhù Ying said, “Kun Da Chi hasn’t any quarrel with you, and you’re a capable person — you shouldn’t be wasted on something without meaning. Using you to stall me while he marshals his forces to attack me is unlikely, because that would be gambling with your life. So sending you to negotiate is genuine. But a negotiation cannot go on indefinitely — there is a deadline, and yours is close, isn’t it?”
The envoy barely held his seat. He said, “The Chancellor is joking — I was sent to resolve a misunderstanding, and there’s no deadline on that.”
“Very well, then keep staying — and I’ll treat you as an enemy state would.”
“Chancellor!” the envoy called out sharply. “My lord and the court have an agreement — you can’t simply…”
“The general in the field—” Zhù Ying said. “You came making probes and looking everywhere. Isn’t that exactly what you wanted to know?”
The envoy abruptly stopped protesting. He said, “Chancellor — you can make the decisions here?”
Zhù Ying tilted her head to look at him. “Then why did you come to find me? Tell me what you’ve been guessing, and I’ll make all of it come true. How does that sound?”
The envoy grew even quieter. His expression shifted through several changes before he finally said, “I came to resolve a misunderstanding.”
“You attacked me, and I attacked you — what misunderstanding is there?”
“Perhaps your Emperor doesn’t allow women to hold office — is that our misunderstanding?” the envoy said. “What exactly is the Chancellor now — Chancellor, Prefectural Governor, or Military Governor?”
Zhù Ying held up one finger and waved it slightly. “Call me whatever you like. Between me and Kun Da Chi, there is no misunderstanding either. Between us — we are both people who have received investiture from the court. Under that investiture, anything can be discussed.”
“Truly anything can be discussed?”
Zhù Ying leaned back in her chair. “Zhao Su, Zhù Yan — the two of you can now sit down and talk things over carefully with the envoy.”
The envoy also exhaled in relief. He did indeed have a time limit — the sooner things were resolved, the better.
The Western Tribes’ strategy had truly been to recover their strength and then extract more advantages from the court. But a variable had appeared: Zhù Ying.
Previously the Western Tribes had only known “the Chancellor had turned into a woman and then fled.” This was advantageous for them. Kun Da Chi had then gone back to attending to domestic affairs. It wasn’t until this year, when a border official’s house fell into internal conflict, that Kun Da Chi learned what had happened with Chief Pusheng. Investigating further was a shock — Zhù Ying was right next door. How on earth had she come here?
So forces were dispatched under the pretense of “pursuit” as a probing attack — and they were met with a hard rebuff. After consulting with his advisors, Kun Da Chi arrived at the next step: send an envoy.
Zhù Ying’s situation suggested she and the court were no longer of one mind. Therefore it was only necessary to keep her stable. Annan’s resources, however abundant, were still inferior to the court’s — and Zhù Ying as a person was difficult to deal with. The direction of the main offensive could not be wrong.
And of course, if a few extra benefits could be obtained along the way, so much the better.
The envoy was also in no mood to go another round directly against Zhù Ying. Zhao Su was difficult to deal with, certainly — but Zhao Su was still preferable to facing Zhù Ying herself.
And so it was Zhao Su and the envoy who conducted the talks.
The envoy opened by asking, “Once we’ve agreed on terms here and put them in writing — how should Zhù the Administrator be formally addressed?”
Zhao Su gave him an answer: “Military Governor.”
Good thing it was Zhao Su! The envoy at last had his confirmation: Zhù Ying and the court were indeed not exactly of one mind. She was no longer Chancellor — she was now a border official herself.
From there the talks were easier.
The envoy naturally hoped to extend the benefits that had previously flowed from Chief Pusheng — Pusheng had sent substantial tributes to the Western Tribes each year, though of late those had all been going to the border official instead.
Zhao Su of course could not agree to that — and moreover, he demanded that Pusheng be handed over, on the grounds that he had been connected to the assassins who had tried to kill Zhù Ying.
The envoy had no wish to give the man up. He was a useful hook. Zhao Su then said the envoy had no sincerity: still protecting the assassins — how could anyone trust him?
After a round of back-and-forth, the envoy proposed that handing over Pusheng could be arranged, but he hoped Annan would supply tea — and especially iron goods. Zhao Su replied that tea could be traded freely, but iron goods were needed domestically and there was no surplus. Weapons, as it turned out, were not agreed upon at all, though daily-use items such as iron cooking pots could be traded, and so on.
Both sides wrangled for just under half a month. First a rough border was agreed upon, and a peace treaty was concluded — no military aggression against each other, no sheltering of each other’s enemies. Then came trade: Kun Da Chi would take over all dealings with Annan that had previously gone through the border official, and Annan would not conduct iron or salt trade with the border official. On the iron question, weapons were not agreed to, but everyday items like iron pots could be traded, and similar provisions.
The covenant was written out in both parties’ languages. When the last character was set down, both sides let out a long breath.
On the spot, Zhù Ying dispatched Zhù Qingjun as her representative. Together with the envoy, they went to the pass and had the covenant carved onto a stone stele. The envoy handed over Chief Pusheng. Zhù Ying’s side opened the pass, allowing merchants through.
On Zhù Ying’s side, another five hundred local soldiers were posted to the pass as reinforcement, guarding against any treachery from the Western Tribes. Only when Zhù Qingtian’s side received confirmation that the enemy general had withdrawn with his troops far from the border did the frontier gradually settle into calm.
Zhù Ying did not send an official memorandum to the Secretariat. Instead, she wrote a personal letter to Yao Chen Ying, alerting him to pay attention to the movements of the Western Tribes.