Zheng Xi was very pleased with Zhù Ying!

Because Zhù Ying’s situation had turned out somewhat differently from what had originally been envisioned, and because he had to deal with deputy judges like Pei Qing and Leng Yun, Zheng Xi had already adjusted his original plan accordingly.

Whatever the adjustments, a subordinate who was willing to work and willing to follow proper direction was always pleasing to have.

Zheng Xi said, “Don’t be so pleased with yourself just yet! These twenty days may well be the last peaceful days you have this year!”

Zhù Ying smiled — she didn’t believe a word of it. Could life as an official be harder and more exhausting than what she’d had before? Impossible.

Zheng Xi said, “The case of the switched condemned prisoner may be closed, but its consequences are not. The Emperor’s intention is to audit the last ten years — every case from the previous decade has to be gone through again. Work out the math yourself — how long do you think that will take? They’ve already been at it for several months, and progress is still limited.”

Zhù Ying said, “With you overseeing things, how does anyone dare to shirk?”

Zheng Xi sighed. Some things were not easy to explain to Zhù Ying — the case tied to Shen’s and Feng’s families, the great affair from twenty years ago involving a struggle for succession, was also being handled at the Court of Judicial Review. The Emperor wanted it examined carefully, in full detail — had not even set a deadline, but kept asking about it, paying it far more attention than the “ten-year audit.”

He said, “Do the criminals of the world stop committing new crimes and wait politely for you to finish the ten-year backlog?”

Zhù Ying couldn’t help laughing. Zheng Xi said, “What’s so funny?”

Zhù Ying said, “It reminded me of something from years ago — picking merit beans. There was a little novice nun whose teacher was always beating her and making her do laundry in the dead of winter. I wanted to get back at the teacher for her. The teacher’s punishment was to pick merit beans, chanting a prayer and bowing before the Buddha for each one, moving a bean from one basket to the other. I waited until she had picked out more than half the basket, and then sneaked up and took a big handful of her finished beans and threw them back in with the unpicked ones, so she’d have to bow even more. Who hasn’t been a little novice at some point? The only one who turned into a wicked old shaved head was her…”

Zheng Xi laughed and scolded: “Little troublemaker — you think I’m the wicked old nun? Get out, get out! Work hard and there’ll be promotion; slack off and you’ll be answering to me!”

“I’ll be the one you’re waiting on to see some work done!”

Zhù Ying was very satisfied with Zheng Xi’s promise — she liked to get things done cleanly and quickly. A person like the senior censor, for instance — she could handle two of his workload without any trouble, maybe even three. She had no qualms about the senior censor. Though Zheng Xi had also said to spend a month testing the temperature at the Court of Judicial Review, and the senior censor and the others had set Zhù Ying to reading through all the old archives, said there was no rush.

But these old hands had their own motives — they wanted to “grind down a new arrival’s eagerness and have them blend in with the crowd.” If that weren’t so, they would have pointed her specifically to the decade of cases being audited and told her which had already been re-examined and which hadn’t, rather than releasing her into the entire archive room to play as she liked.

The next day, Zhù Ying arrived at the Court of Judicial Review once more, “reading stories” as usual, and checked the duty rotation list — she was scheduled for the fourth day.

On the fourth day, Zhù Ying arrived at the Court of Judicial Review carrying her bedding roll. The garrison soldiers at the Imperial City gate had seen all manner of things and showed no surprise. They opened the roll for inspection, found nothing prohibited, and let her through.

That evening, after the communal meal, Zhù Ying did not turn in early. With a paper lantern in hand, she made her way to the Court of Judicial Review’s jail.

The Court’s authorized staff of jail wardens was four, with a number of jail clerks working under them. The wardens’ rotation was separate from the Court’s own duty schedule. The Court of Judicial Review’s other officials took roughly one duty rotation per month; the jail wardens, four of them cycling through continuously, were the lowest-ranking officials in the Court, yet they worked the hardest and most exhausting duties among the “officials” of the Court.

Ninth grade lower rank — typically filled by those who had worked up from outside the ranked system. If Zhù Ying had started as a minor Court clerk and done well, she might have eventually risen to something like a jail warden’s position. Then upward inch by inch: if capable, she might perhaps reach the sixth grade around the age of fifty, which was roughly where Jin Liang stood now. If she was ordinary, she might never touch the threshold of the seventh grade in a lifetime. The difference, of course, was that with Zheng Xi behind her, her pace of advancement might match Jin Liang’s — but ultimately her “outside-the-system” background would place severe limits on how high she could rise. Those who rose from minor clerk to great official were rare enough to be written about in histories — most minor clerks became very small officials and muddled through their days. The ability to sit the Ming Fa examination and get a proper appointment was something she genuinely owed to Zheng Xi.

Zhù Ying sighed and said to the warden on duty: “I have the night rotation tonight — came to have a look.”

The warden bowed: “My lord, this way please.”

Zhù Ying paused a moment. “Oh — right.”

The warden was in his forties, worked his way up from the jail clerks, and had only recently assumed this ninth-grade lower post. He was diligent and conscientious to a fault. He led the way and quietly explained that everything here was done by the regulations — there would be no more “fatal incidents.”

Standing in the prison, Zhù Ying immediately sensed that the Court of Judicial Review’s jail was indeed an elevated place — it was visibly cleaner and more orderly than the Metropolitan Prefecture’s jail!

The jail was divided into a men’s section and a women’s section. Paper, brushes, sharp objects, and valuables were all prohibited from being brought in. Aside from prisoners awaiting retrial, there were also a significant number of officials and official wives being held. Depending on rank, they were even permitted to bathe. It was relatively clean, but densely packed.

The warden said quietly, “These ones over here are all asleep — best not to disturb them. Some of these cases — the individuals are only locked in for a few days and then released again at any time.”

He pointed to a few cells and said, “No hope for these ones — they’re just waiting for what’s inside them to be extracted and for the decision between poisoned wine or white silk.”

Zhù Ying noticed that some prisoners were not in prison clothes, while others were fully in prison garb.

She noticed a solitary cell — its occupant was in prison clothes, but the cell’s position, size, and especially its door all suggested that whoever lived here was no ordinary person. She asked, “Who is this?”

The warden introduced the various “figures” housed here one by one. The biggest case at present was: “Lord Prime Minister Gong, Gong Jie.”

She was still not very familiar with the Court’s current cases — she still had sixteen of her twenty preparatory days to go. She said, “Do you have a roster? Let me see it.”

The warden produced the roster, and Zhù Ying thought: This is a useful document — I should come and look at it regularly. She turned through it slowly, listening as the warden said, “In those days, he falsely accused Feng the Attendant Gentleman of being in league with Prince An. Prince An was the one who attempted a palace coup and seizure of the throne twenty years ago — naturally His Majesty would show Feng no mercy. Twenty years passed, and because of another case, an old memorial from Feng the Attendant Gentleman came to light — he had been loyal to His Majesty all along. His Majesty grew alert, and moves were made to prosecute Gong Jie. In those twenty years, he had labored under deep imperial favor yet thought not of repaying it — building factions, accepting bribes, taking a concubine as a wife…”

Zhù Ying said, “Wait — that last item that snuck in there — what kind of offense is that to set alongside all the others?”

The warden sighed: “That concubine of his — the whole court had been bowing to her as ‘My Lady’ for twenty years, and she’d appeared before His Majesty more times than anyone could count. Once her husband’s position collapsed, it all came out. She’s a formidable woman herself — over there in the women’s section. My lord, would you care to have a look?”

Zhù Ying said, “Yes.”

They went to the women’s section.

It had far fewer occupants than the men’s section. The warden pointed to one cell: “There she is — Lady Gong. She’s still called ‘Lady’ for now, but once the sentence comes down, that title will be stripped from her for certain.”

Zhù Ying looked at the other roster the warden held — it listed a Zhan Guixiang, evidently her given name. In the dim light, the woman wore prison clothes with a dirty face, her expression cold, and even in this state traces of what had once been considerable beauty were visible. Who knew what she was thinking.

Zhù Ying thought: You were the ones who brought ruin to Huajie’s family…

The warden said quietly, “She enjoyed twenty years of glory and wealth — you could say it was worth it. Thanks to His Majesty’s divine clarity, such a person wasn’t allowed to go on dominating and bullying people any longer.”

Zhù Ying thought: His Majesty is no great paragon either — a treacherous official right in front of him for twenty years and he didn’t see it. He was blind. Hmph!

…—

Having made a circuit of the Court of Judicial Review’s jail, Zhù Ying returned to the duty room, set out her bedding, and was brought hot water by two clerks.

Zhù Ying said, “Go and rest — you don’t need to look after me. I’ll sit up for a while.”

The two clerks bowed and withdrew.

Zhù Ying reviewed what she had seen that day, took the duty-room keys, lit a lantern, and went to the archive room that Old Fang managed — searching through old files for nearly half the night. Near the third watch, she put the case files she had reviewed back in order, locked the room, went back and washed with water that had long gone cold, and fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow.

A dreamless night.

The next morning, well before dawn, the sounds outside grew very loud — the ministers were going to morning court, the Emperor was preparing to rise, and the entire Palace City and Imperial City came to life at once.

Zhù Ying was up quickly, dressed, and had just finished combing her hair when a clerk knocked: “My lord, time to rise. May we bring in hot water?”

They had been up even earlier.

Zhù Ying opened the door: “Bring it in.”

She was washing her face when she suddenly asked, “Do you get a rest day after a night rotation?”

The clerks replied, “Sometimes, yes — but sometimes not. The yamen has a lot of work at the moment…”

Zhù Ying thought: Right, no one told me about that. The Court of Judicial Review really is…

She had been hoping to go for a walk. But with the clerks saying this, she decided not to go home to rest. Ordinarily she wouldn’t need to demonstrate loyalty through this kind of “no rest day” gesture — not with Zheng Xi as her chief official — but the work really was substantial, and if Pei Qing were to find yet another thing to criticize, it would make Zheng Xi look bad as well.

Why bother?

So Zhù Ying spent this day “keeping her head down” as usual — rolling the dice to pull old archives. The Emperor wanted to audit the previous ten years’ cases. Some had already been re-examined, and all were labeled. Zhù Ying looked at cases that had been reviewed by two different groups of examiners, studied how their judgments differed, and for cases where the sentence had changed on re-review, looked at how Zheng Xi, Pei Qing, and the others had ruled — and on what grounds.

She kept at it until evening, then bundled up her bedding and headed home.

Zhang Xiangu had gone out to wait in the middle of the street to meet her. She reached to take the bedding roll. Zhù Ying said, “I can carry it — it’s not heavy.”

Zhang Xiangu said, “Such a long road, though!”

The courtyard they were renting was in a more southerly part of the city — far behind Jin Liang’s new home, let alone the Zheng household. Every morning Zhù Ying walked half an hour to get to the Court of Judicial Review in the Imperial City, and came back carrying the bedding roll for another half hour. Zhang Xiangu’s heart ached. She said, “Why is it that after becoming an official, you’re still trudging along like a refugee?”

Zhù Ying said, “Did refugees ever have bedding this good? Why did you come out to meet me so far away?”

“Oh — night duty — you didn’t have to share a room with anyone, did you?”

Zhù Ying said, “That’s the Court of Judicial Review. I’m still an official there — I had a room to myself.”

Zhang Xiangu breathed in relief and said, “Good, good! Let’s go home! Dinner is ready! Tonight there’s scrambled eggs, and I bought half a roasted chicken. I learned braised pigs’ trotters from your Elder Jin A’Jie — wait until you taste them. Next time you have night duty, I’ll pack you good food. You’re still growing — you need to eat well!”

Zhang Xiangu’s cooking wasn’t really all that impressive, but Zhù Ying had grown up eating it and smiled as she said, “Good!”

Zhang Xiangu asked, “Next time you have night duty — when will that be? What do you want to eat?”

Zhù Ying said, “Still a while off — not before next month.”

Mother and daughter went home together. Zhù Da took the bedding roll, and Zhang Xiangu said, “Set it in our room for now — I’ll air it out in the sun tomorrow and then put it away.”

The family ate dinner together. Zhù Ying noticed that Zhang Xiangu had finally been willing to boil an extra egg and said, “Now that’s more like it.”

Zhù Da said, “That’s what I said —”

Zhang Xiangu said, “You two talk too much! Hurry up and eat! Eat and sleep early!”

Zhù Ying said nothing more, finished eating, and when Zhang Xiangu went to wash the dishes, she lit the lamp to practice calligraphy — a very easy, comfortable way to spend the evening.

The next morning, Zhang Xiangu was up early again, had breakfast ready, and when Zhù Ying was about to leave, called out, “Wait — didn’t you say you wanted roasted flatbread? I made some, meat-filled. Take two with you. You run an hour’s road early in the morning — you’ll be hungry when you get there. I wrapped them in blue-flower cloth in a small bamboo basket.”

She passed them over, saying as she did: “Eat them once you’re at the yamen. If there’s a brazier, have them heat them up. If not, make sure to eat them with some hot tea or hot water.”

Zhù Ying picked up the small basket and looked at it, and said, “Father’s craft is much better now.”

Zhù Da said gruffly, “Of course. Could I let it be anything less?”

It hadn’t been all that impressive before — but Zhù Ying didn’t say so. “Make a bigger one too — might come in handy.”

Zhù Da said loudly, “I know without you telling me! I’m already making a few large storage baskets!”

Zhù Ying walked off with her flatbread.

…

At the Imperial City gate, the guard saw she was carrying food and said, “Is there anything concealed?”

Zhù Ying said, “Just my own food to eat — or shall I eat it here? Do you have water? Give me a sip.”

The guard rolled his eyes and waved her through.

Zhù Ying brought her two meat-filled flatbreads into the Court of Judicial Review. Court was still in session on the other side. She sat down at her place, and a clerk immediately came to serve her hot tea. Zhù Ying said, “Thank you,” and pulled out her flatbread to eat.

Just the two — and when they were gone she realized she’d been eating alone… well, nothing for it.

The senior censor asked, “Live far away, didn’t have time for breakfast? Bought them on the way?”

Zhù Ying said, “I ate at home. Mother was worried I’d get hungry and told me to bring something to hold me over.”

The senior censor said, “A mother’s heart follows her children wherever they go — but there’s no need for your elder to rise this early every day! I’ll tell you — when you head out from your neighborhood, don’t rush straight for Vermilion Bird Avenue. Three streets over, just opposite Wannian County — there’s a stall in the ward there. Excellent flatbread! A few coins and it’s done!”

He had caught the smell — the flatbread Zhù Ying was eating, meat-filled, but the smell said the skill wasn’t quite up to snuff!

Talk of food brought Evaluating Censor Wang over as well: “And across the ward from that one, there’s a place that sells noodle soup in the morning — also excellent!”

All eight censors gathered. Seven men, seven mouths, each one recommending their own favorite breakfast spot. Someone mentioned mutton soup, someone wonton, someone buns — then congee, deep-fried cake, and dumplings…

Zhù Ying finished her two flatbreads in the middle of a full recitation of the menu and spread her hands: “Good — I’ve noted it all down.” She could buy some for her parents to try. But from experience, Zhang Xiangu would most likely refuse to spend money on bought breakfast and insist on making her own.

The senior censor was satisfied: “Now you’re getting it! And do remember — don’t go to any random small stalls. They don’t care about ingredient quality!”

All the censors nodded in agreement.

Evaluating Censor Wang said, “They’ve come down from court.”

Everyone scattered back to their places at once. Zhù Ying wiped her mouth, rinsed it, and went to find today’s “story files.” Today was the same as every other day!

She had just returned carrying a pile of files when she found an extra person in the room. No one made introductions, so she simply stood to one side and listened. It was someone who had excellent sources of intelligence — also an eighth-grade official by the look of the clothing, with a thin black mustache and rolled-up sleeves, already in mid-story: “It was terrible! He ate a beef cake just standing on the side of the road, and a Censor reported him! The whole morning court was buzzing about it!”

Zhù Ying’s eyes went wide. Standing on the street eating a beef cake — reported to the Censors?! She had memorized any number of legal codes and not a single clause said anything of the kind!

The man with the mustache finished his story, turned back, and saw her: “Who’s this?”

The senior censor gave a brief introduction. The man with the mustache said, “Oh — young and talented, heh! Ease into it — once you’ve been here a while, you’ll find it’s all the same.”

The senior censor said, “He’s Yang Liu, Adjunct Ceremonial from the Court of Imperial Sacrifices.”

Zhù Ying and Yang Liu exchanged introductions. She asked, “Are the Censors always this strict?” She didn’t believe it — if they were truly that strict, how had Zhou You been allowed to run amok?

Yang Liu and the senior censor both laughed: “Strict? They can be — but it depends on who you are and when it is!”

As in every office, within the Censorate there were the capable and the mediocre, the ambitious and the coasting. The official who ate the beef cake happened to run into a stricter one. But Evaluating Censor Wang had another theory: “I suspect it has something to do with when he argued back two days ago to…”

Yang Liu coughed: “I should get back!” He was gone in a flash.

Zhù Ying asked the senior censor, “If I were spotted carrying my bedding roll home, could someone report me for that?”

The senior censor said, “What? You’ve been doing that? Did anyone see you?”

Evaluating Censor Wang said, “Never mind — nothing was reported, so nothing happened. For the future, bring your bedding to the duty room — we’ll find you a cabinet. Keep it there and pull it out when needed.”

The senior censors arranged everything for her, one thing at a time. Much of this was new to Zhù Ying, and she thought: Right. I know how to be comfortable about things.

The senior censor told her, “Usually it doesn’t matter — as long as no one sees you, it’s fine! Just be careful at certain times — for instance, when there’s a change at the head of the Bureau of Censors, brace yourself. And right now both our Court and the Ministry of Justice are under scrutiny — be careful. This is what they call a catch-all charge: ‘conduct unbecoming of an official.’ You won’t find it in any of those legal codes you memorized.”

They went on for quite a while. In the end the senior censor said: “No need to do it yourself — have your manservant carry it.”

Zhù Ying said, “I don’t have a manservant.”

Everyone was astonished: “Still haven’t gotten one? We should help you find one — it won’t cost much…”

Zhù Ying spread her hands: “I have no money.”

The senior colleagues all looked puzzled: “How can that be? We each maintain whole families and still have a manservant and a cook-girl. How can you have nothing?”

Eventually they realized — Zhù Ying still hadn’t collected her stipend!

The senior censor said, “Child, you’ve been sitting here all this time without saying a word. Go and collect it! I’ll tell you — you need to go to the Grand Granary office. Your name is already on the rolls. For us, it’s the upper-ten-day period of the month — some offices are mid-month, some are lower-ten-day. Don’t rely on whatever the founding-era old rules say — those are decades out of date and have gone up somewhat. For small officials like us — ministers and Lord Zheng collect on a different scale, none of our concern. All you need to know is: monthly coin, yearly grain, festival bonuses, and cloth for clothing folded in!”

According to the senior censor, Zhù Ying’s stipend — counting miscellaneous supplements — came to a real monthly take-home of five guan in coin. Similar to what a Metropolitan Prefecture jailer would receive, in terms of coin. The real difference was what came after: eighty shi of grain per year — those two were the main items. Two bolts of cloth per year for new clothes. At seasonal turns, a heat supplement in summer — sometimes goods, sometimes coin. On top of all this, eating the communal meal at the Court of Judicial Review every day was no small perk.

Eighty shi of grain! Zhù Ying thought. All at once? We don’t have a grain silo!

Wait —

She thought back: Jin Liang’s household didn’t seem to have that large a grain silo either! Better ask A’Jie.

She thanked the senior censor for the reminder. Evaluating Censor Wang added one more: “Once you’ve collected it, get yourself a manservant. And don’t wander around the streets on your own. Get reported and our superiors will be displeased — then none of us are comfortable. From where I sit…”

And so Zhù Ying had to return the files she had just borrowed, and go find Zheng Xi to request leave.

…

Zheng Xi took one look at her and laughed: “What’s this — coming to me to request leave?”

This child, always putting on such a composed air, looking so meticulous in everything — and then she first forgot to collect her stipend, and now here she was requesting leave directly from the presiding judge!

“Ha ha ha ha — where have you ever seen anyone go directly to the presiding judge to request leave? What rank are you? What rank am I? You’ve been set up, haven’t you? Ha ha ha ha! Going over superiors’ heads is the biggest taboo in official life — do you understand that now? Ha ha ha ha! And this —”

Zhù Ying genuinely couldn’t understand how a man of Zheng Xi’s stature could be reduced to helpless laughter over something this small. She asked suspiciously, “You’re not Zheng Xi’s twin brother, are you? You really don’t look like him. So undignified!”

“Pfft — ha ha ha ha!” Leng Yun, who had come over to see what the noise was about, walked right into this and also burst out laughing!

Zheng Xi caught sight of him and immediately transformed back from “Zheng Xi’s undignified twin brother” into “Zheng Xi himself” and said: “Granted. Go on — and since you also did a night rotation, that counts too. Two days’ leave. The household matters are the priority. Lu Chao is outside — have him help you.”

Leng Yun looked at Zhù Ying with mild surprise, thinking: Could this be Zheng Xi’s particular favorite — a young intimate companion?

Zhù Ying’s ear twitched. She moved away from Leng Yun and made for the door, thinking: That Deputy Judge Leng is not right — I need to be careful.

She went back and told the senior censor, “Leave approved — today and tomorrow. I’m going to collect my stipend and grain.”

“Off you go, off you go.” They all saw her off.

Zhù Ying left the Imperial City. Outside she found Lu Chao and relayed Zheng Xi’s instruction. Lu Chao said, “You still haven’t collected it? Well, right enough — before the formal appointment, they wouldn’t know the exact amount to issue you. Easy to sort, though — come on, I’ll hire a cart and we’ll go collect.”

Zhù Ying said, “Don’t rush — come with me to Elder Brother Jin’s place first. I need to ask A’Jie something.”

Walking along, Lu Chao said, “What do you need to ask Jin A’Jie? Jin Liang’s not home — a young man showing up at someone’s home too often when the husband’s away doesn’t look good!”

Zhù Ying said, “Lu Er — you run a gambling den on the side, you cheat at cards, your technique isn’t even that sharp, and you use loaded dice — but you’re still basically dependable.”

Lu Chao flung his arms around: “Quiet, quiet, quiet — what cheating? Don’t say that word!”

The two were old acquaintances, bantering as they walked, and arrived at Jin’s wife’s door in no time.

Jin’s wife looked up in surprise: “What are you two doing here — why aren’t you at your post?”

Zhù Ying said, “I only just found out I never collected my stipend. Lord Zheng sent Lu Er to help, but I thought there were a few things I should ask you first!”

“Go on.”

“The coin I can take home or have changed — that’s simple. But the grain — there seems to be a lot of it. A family of three, even eating generously, I don’t think we’d finish it all in a year, and there’s nowhere to put it.”

Jin’s wife and Lu Chao both laughed: “No one hauls it all home at once! The granaries don’t even fill up like that all at once!”

Jin’s wife said, “The Grand Granary office — the clerks there know how to size people up. Go without connections and they’ll give you grain three or five years old. That stuff fills you up but has no taste. Take it home and store it another year, and come year-end you’d be eating six-year-old stale grain. Leave it too long and it goes moldy.”

Zhù Ying said, “So no one stores the grain at home?”

Jin’s wife settled in to give a full account: “Everyone who serves as an official in the capital knows this. I thought you knew it too — that’s my oversight; you’re still new here. You haven’t bought farmland or a house yet, so you’re not drawing rent. Others — like our household — have a few dozen mu of land in the countryside. Come autumn, there’s new rice. When that runs low, we take the issued grain to a grain merchant to exchange. Now — there’s a deduction for that. Eighty shi of stale grain might get you sixty to seventy shi if they’re being fair. Once the home supply runs out, you go back to the merchant to draw new rice. Some people skip the exchange and just sell the issued grain for cash outright — but that means accepting a lower price. Rice also comes in grades, with different prices. Some people even receive new grain and dislike the grade, sell it, and buy their preferred variety elsewhere. The standard-grade rice gets bought by grain merchants and sold on to small food stalls — they make rice cakes, or boil it very soft for congee to sell…”

Jin’s wife finished explaining all of this and said, “Understand now?”

“Yes.”

“In the future, anything you don’t understand about daily life in the capital, just come and ask me. I’m at home with nothing but A’Biao to argue with.”

Lu Chao laughed. Jin’s wife gave him a swat: “And you — stop leading A’Biao into mischief!”

Once Zhù Ying understood how it worked, she asked Jin’s wife to recommend a reliable grain merchant. Jin’s wife said, “I might as well come along myself.”

Zhù Ying said, “Then let’s bring my parents — they’ve been going stir-crazy at home without anyone to talk to.”

Jin’s wife said, “You’re right — and going forward, you should really hand these things over to your mother to manage. Once you marry, let your mother-in-law learn the household management. This isn’t something you should be doing yourself.”

So Lu Chao went to hire a cart, while Jin’s wife and Zhù Ying went to pick up Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da. The two of them had been murmuring between themselves these past few days: “The household money is nearly gone.” When they heard about collecting coin and grain, both were immediately delighted. Zhang Xiangu smoothed her hair in the mirror. Zhù Da went to wash his hands.

On the way, Jin’s wife explained more about managing a small official’s household in the capital. Zhang Xiangu listened carefully, and privately thought: No need for a manservant — Old Three can’t have a man sleeping nearby. And no need for a maidservant either. That saves two mouths to feed!

Jin’s wife took them to the grain merchant she knew and made the introduction: “These are like family to me. Get to know them — get to know this Da Niang. This is the Zhù family.” She then had the manager send workers and a cart to accompany them to collect the stipend.

Zhù Ying first collected this month’s coin. It was already the lower third of the month; she explained she was newly appointed, and things went smoothly enough — five guan, with a reminder: “Your collection date is the upper ten days. Don’t mix that up. We’ll make an exception this once.”

Zhù Ying smiled: “Understood.” She put the coin in the cart. Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da had seen a bit of the world by now and five guan didn’t root them to the spot. One climbed down to learn things from Jin’s wife; the other stood by the cart and refused to move.

The grain was loaded by the merchant’s workers. The manager chatted with Zhù Ying: “So young and already an official. Jin the Military Supervisor is posted outside — if I may ask, where is your posting, and your position?”

Zhù Ying said, “Oh, I’m hardly worth calling an official — just an Evaluating Censor at the Court of Judicial Review.”

The manager offered more praise: “At your age, already an official — a limitless future ahead!”

Zhù Ying said, “Thank you for the good words.”

Zhù Ying had not yet served a full year, so her grain was prorated to fifty shi. The manager asked whether she wanted it recorded as new rice by account, or converted to coin. Zhù Ying thought a moment: “Record it by account. My family will come and draw from it.”

“Certainly!”

He wrote up the voucher on the spot and produced a pair of counterpart tablets: “Keep one — bring both halves together when you draw.”

The ticket read: new rice, forty shi. Eight-tenths exchange rate.

Business concluded. Zhang Xiangu’s chest ached: ten shi of rice — ten shi! That was enough to last several months!

She was desperate to scratch her daughter’s back — but couldn’t make a scene in front of “outsiders” and embarrass a child who had just become an official. She could only endure it, keep smiling, and say, “You’ve all worked hard!” Zhù Ying mentioned inviting them to dinner. Lu Chao, seeing the pain on Zhang Xiangu’s face and the suppressed frustration on Zhù Da’s, quickly said, “I’ll see you home — I need to go and pick up the seventh young lord.” Jin’s wife also declined, claiming other plans that evening.

The three parted ways. Zhù Ying came home and received her first scolding since becoming an official — both parents complained about the loss. Every time Zhang Xiangu thought about those ten shi of grain, her chest hurt.

Zhù Da said, “I can dig, do carpentry and bricklaying. Build our own storage bin — think of how much grain we’d save.”

Zhù Ying said, “When have we ever had more than one shi of grain at a time? We don’t know how to store it, and grain can go moldy. Officials get fined and prosecuted all the time for grain that wasn’t stored properly. It’s much safer to leave it with them. And storing grain isn’t free — it takes space, labor, and protection from thieves and mice. Right now we just take what we need. A little deduction is a little deduction. Next month there’s more coin; next year there’s more grain.”

Zhang Xiangu inhaled sharply: “Another twenty guan for rent! And all those social obligations… Do all capital officials really live on air?!”

Zhù Ying said, “Our family of three won’t get through eighty shi of rice in a year. Next year I won’t exchange it all for grain — I’ll convert some to coin. And there will be other bonuses here and there. I’ll save all of that, and we’ll put some away.”

Zhang Xiangu said, “All right, all right. Go sleep. Oh — let me heat up some water. Well, even an official’s life isn’t easy! First thing tomorrow, I’m going out to buy chicks. We can raise them on scraps, and they’ll lay an egg a day — no more buying eggs…”

…—

Zheng Xi had given Zhù Ying two days of leave, but on the second day she did not stay home. She went back to the Court, cleared her absence, returned to her desk, and thought about which files to read next.

The senior censor rubbed his forehead: “Didn’t you take two days’ leave? Why are you here already today? Stay home one more day and get your affairs in order — what’s wrong with that?”

Zhù Ying said, “Couldn’t sit still. It’s quieter here.”

The senior censor began a very un-quiet string of questions: “Everything taken care of? Manservant acquired? Bedding — why didn’t you bring it? What about your grain stipend — did you handle that?”

Evaluating Censor Wang came over too and said, as if just remembering: “Your grain — did you sort it out? I forgot to mention — the quality they issue isn’t great.”

Zhù Ying said, “Right — stale grain.”

Evaluating Censor Wang said, “Don’t haul it all home — you need to exchange it with a merchant.”

The senior censor chimed in: “Exactly! Why didn’t you ask us? Now you’ll have to hire a cart and take it over.”

Zhù Ying said, “It’s all settled — got the counterpart tablets, eight-tenths exchange rate.”

The tone was practiced and matter-of-fact. The censors felt slightly sheepish: “Young people — so efficient.”

Zhù Ying said, “I didn’t know much of it myself — left it all to my mother to handle. Good new rice every month now.”

Evaluating Censor Wang shook his head: “The merchants’ rice won’t be fresh until autumn either — what you’re eating right now is still old stock, just a bit better than what we received…”

“Not bad!”

A voice cut through from the doorway: “The Court of Judicial Review has become a canteen! Discussing food instead of trying cases!”

Pei Qing’s gaze swept the room. Every experienced hand instantly returned to their seat, sat up straight, a stack of case files in front of each of them, all saying in unison, “My lord.”

Only Zhù Ying’s desk was bare. Pei Qing’s face went dark: “Where are your case files? What have you been doing all these days?!”

Zhù Ying said, “Learning how things are done here.”

Pei Qing said, “And have you learned?”

“More or less.”

Pei Qing said: “‘More or less’?! The Court of Judicial Review handles major cases and capital cases — how many lives and fates hang on what passes through our hands?! A hairbreadth off, and the error spans a thousand li! ‘More or less’ — how much harm could flow from that?!”

All the censors fell silent, each privately wondering: Did something happen to him — is he taking it out on a child?

Zhù Ying was thinking the same. Either Zheng Xi had offended Pei Qing, or Pei Qing had run into trouble outside. Otherwise, based on his attitude toward her the last time, he hadn’t seemed to actually dislike her that much.

She stood properly at attention and said, “Yes. Your subordinate understands.”

“You understand what? So young, and already so careless! How many days have you even been at the Court of Judicial Review? And already taking leave! And going directly to Presiding Judge Zheng to have it approved!”

The shout could probably be heard three li away.

While everyone was trying to make sense of things, Leng Yun reappeared without warning: “Old Pei — what’s all this? You got reported by the Censors — let’s work out how to handle it and smooth it over!”

Pei Qing turned to face him and gave him not an inch: “Smooth it over?! Is that what you came to the Court of Judicial Review to do? It is exactly this kind of ‘more or less,’ this ‘smoothing over,’ that has brought us to today’s disgrace! You and I have only been helping Presiding Judge Zheng run the Court for a few months — not one commendation to show for it, and already we’ve been impeached by the Censors!”

So they had been impeached by the Censors…

Zhù Ying thought: The Censors really do have their time to spare. Could it be that Deputy Judge Pei was caught eating a meat cake on the steps of the Court?

The senior censor and the others were genuinely anxious now. He had lived through the last time the Court was called to account — he himself had been held for several days before release. The Censors were not to be taken lightly.

Leng Yun said flatly, “Just now at morning court, if you’d had this kind of energy, we wouldn’t have had those Censorate people hounding us with questions. It was the seventh young lord who came in and smoothed it over in the end. Come on — the seventh young lord is asking for us. You may not want to smooth it over, but at least give us an explanation! Work the case through!”

He flicked his sleeve and swept out. As he crossed the threshold, he turned once more: “Smooth over or not — either way, things are going to get interesting.”

Pei Qing followed, dark-faced.

The remaining censors sat uneasily. The senior censor said, “I’m going to find Yang Liu — he has good intelligence!”