By the time Zhù Ying returned home, the hour was already late.

Huajie told Zhang Xiangu: “She went to return the carriage, so I walked back first.”

Zhang Xiangu grumbled: “We had the carriage hired for the whole day — why didn’t you have it drop you at the door and settle the fare there? You both walked back instead? I’ll bet it’s because you young ones are too soft-faced to speak up and let the driver talk you out of it. He saves himself a trip and picks up another fare — but he still has to finish this one first! I’m telling you, stop being too polite in the future. And the same goes for San’er! She wasn’t this thin-skinned when she was little!”

She went on muttering away, muttered all the way through Zhù Ying’s return and muttered some more, then sent them off to eat their dinner.

Huajie watched Zhù Ying — not a trace of disturbance on her surface — and felt uncertain about what she was really carrying inside. She was afraid she was bottling everything up and would end up hurting herself. Yet who would have thought that Zhù Ying simply collapsed into sleep and got up the next morning to report for duty just as usual. Huajie could only admire her: she truly was unlike everyone else.

In truth, Zhù Ying was not unlike everyone else — she was, if anything, like far too many people.

Children raised coarsely in the countryside often turn out this way.

Zhù Ying lived rough.

Every matter was filed away as “noted,” lined up inside her head one by one — but none of them were ever allowed to “take up residence in the heart.”

There was no room for that.

Zhang Xiangu had done her best to raise her daughter a little better, but what she had given birth to was a “son” — a country son, one with neither land nor property — who had no choice but to tumble through life alongside a father and mother who made their living as spirit-casters.

Being kept by Wang Yunhe in the Jingzhao Prefecture office for a day and two nights — enough to send many a junior official into three sleepless days of excitement and give them stories to tell until the epitaph was written — amounted, for Zhù Ying, to simply: “I understand.” Taking Xiao Jiang on a frantic run to attend a sacrifice, then listening to another person’s thorough analysis of the world — enough to set many a person of delicate feeling into extended sighs and reflections — she received with only: “Oh.”

Back at the Court of Judicial Review to mark attendance and close out her leave, she was once again that young, promising, but still low-ranking Minor Official Zhù who had to lie flat and wait out her time. Zheng Xi had made it very clear to her: a promotion of eight ranks in a single year was exceedingly rare. She would simply have to sit it out. Zhù Ying was perfectly content to sit — learning more was never a bad thing — and she even felt a mild regret that she had not found someone like Wang Yunhe sooner, someone who could carefully sort out and explain to her the full breadth of scholarship, institutional codes, and administrative systems. Figuring it out on her own was enormously time-consuming, strenuous, and above all, expensive.

Zhù Ying had no money.

Fortunately, there was Wang Yunhe.

Zhù Ying carefully recalled everything Wang Yunhe had said, and simply set about writing it all down from memory — every word of it. She then organized it into a general outline and distilled a framework. It took her a full three days and produced a thick notebook of several dozen pages. She planned to use that notebook’s framework as a scaffold, take the books she had already read, and re-read them all by slotting them into the right places. Then, when she read new books afterward, she would have a much more solid footing.

With the notebook organized, she started drawing up a reading list based on it, and went through the books one by one. Learning things was nothing to be ashamed of! Her own foundations had been built by eavesdropping anyway, and Wang Yunhe had gone further and lectured her face to face — that hardly counted as stealing.

She had mostly given up using her abacus, and Hu Lian found it a little lonely. He said: “What are you writing? Not a sound from you — the room is quiet in a way that gives me the creeps.”

Zhù Ying set down her brush, rotated her wrist, and said: “You really are something — noisy and you complain about the noise, quiet and you complain about the quiet. How about I round everyone up and bring them back for you—”

“All right, all right, I say one thing and you have eight hundred ready! So disrespectful!” Hu Lian laughed and cursed her in the same breath, then rose and wandered off.

Zhù Ying also rose to take a short walk, but Old Huang came to fetch her: “Minor Official Zhù, Lord Zheng is asking for you.”

Zhù Ying tucked her notes inside her robe, tidied herself up, and followed Old Huang. Along the way, she asked him: “There are no candidates from the Classics of Law examination this year either, and they’re going to promote a few officials from within. Don’t you have any thoughts about that?”

Old Huang lowered his voice: “I do have some, but I don’t know if anything will come of it. I’m not like the others — they’ve got people who can do accounts, people with two or three practical skills, people whose written documents flow beautifully. Me? I only know how to do the rough, clumsy jobs.”

Zhù Ying said: “Are you being serious or just saying that?”

Old Huang said: “It’s not like there isn’t an old saying — the sugarcane is never sweet at both ends. Staying at Lord Zheng’s side does have plenty of advantages. Once I’m selected as an official…”

Zhù Ying said: “You might as well just say we’re too humble.”

“Oh, oh, I would never dare say that.”

Zhù Ying said: “Just make up your mind and decide.”

They reached Zheng Xi in a matter of those few sentences. Zheng Xi was somewhat at leisure these days — when there was nothing major, he preferred to hand things off to the people below him. He had first chatted idly with Leng Yun about various amusing stories from different households in the capital; once Leng Yun wandered off to find someone to play with, Zheng Xi thought of Zhù Ying.

“How is your study of phonology coming along?”

Zhù Ying said: “I’ve finished memorizing it.”

“Good, then you can start learning to compose poetry.”

Zhù Ying was stupefied: “Surely not? Is it possible to get by without knowing how?” This was exactly what she had been dreading.

Zheng Xi said: “I have had you read so much poetry — how could you be unable to compose it? You’re not a dull person!”

At this, Zhù Ying had a stomachful of things to say: “What is it that you’ve had me read, anyway? Poems describing scenery, I can still manage. Poems on history, barely passable. What I hate most are those thoroughly senseless lamentations of pining wives — they nearly made my head explode. They’re all so fond of using the wife-and-husband relationship to stand in for the minister-and-ruler relationship! Write one verse and it’s all ‘this concubine’ this and ‘this concubine’ that. This isn’t a court full of civil and military officials — it’s a court full of civil and military officials pretending to be aggrieved wives. I could die!”

“There you go talking nonsense again! What do you mean ‘pretending’? This is using metaphor to express one’s aspirations.”

“The aggrieved wives in our village are nothing like that!”

Zheng Xi, seeing her willing to say anything at all just to avoid having to write poetry, felt both annoyed and amused: “What are they like, then?”

“Cursing! Screaming! ‘Die out there and don’t come back!’ ‘My parents were blind to match me with a man like this!’ ‘The matchmaker had a black heart — isn’t she afraid of thunder and lightning and divine punishment?’…”

Zheng Xi burst out laughing and slapped the table: “Enough! I understand you hate writing poetry. All the same, you need to be able to write at least a little — no one expects you to be brilliant at it. If you’re not writing poetry, and there’s nothing else for you to do right now, what can you do?”

Zhù Ying said: “Read books.”

“Hmm?”

Zhù Ying thought: my personal library is truly far too small. Books are not cheap — even buying the cheapest, most plainly bound editions costs money. Common books are not so bad; those she could still buy. But some of the large-scale works ran to several dozen volumes, and the print shops produced few copies, with handwritten copies scarcer still; they mostly sat in private collections. And there were some works that had so few students and had circulated so little that only a handful of people held copies.

Zheng Xi had a great many books!

She showed Zheng Xi her reading list. Zheng Xi said: “These several you have already read, haven’t you? What are these blank ones?”

Zhù Ying also wanted to hear Zheng Xi’s opinion of Wang Yunhe, so she brought out her notes and handed them to him: “These are from when I had the opportunity to consult Lord Wang, the Jingzhao Prefect, a few days ago — things he said. I wanted to use this framework to re-read my books. Could you look them over?”

Zheng Xi turned the pages slowly, stopping now and then to give the table a tap. By the time the communal midday meal came, he had not yet finished half, and said: “This is a man of broad learning and genuine virtue! He thinks very highly of you, to speak to you this way.”

Zhù Ying said: “Whether he thinks highly of me or not I can’t say, but I feel he explained things clearly — better than my private-school teacher did.”

“That goes without saying!”

“Hey, how is it that you’ve tucked it away for yourself?”

“I’ll return it when I’ve finished. Now go eat!”

That noon, Zheng Xi again sent someone to bring Zhù Ying one dish from his own table — a large carp heavy with roe, tender and rich. Zhù Ying accepted without ceremony and ate the entire fish down to the bones, then used the remaining broth to soak her rice. The President of the Court of Judicial Review’s meals were considerably better than hers as a Court Reviewer!

Zheng Xi finished eating and, forgoing his midday rest, rushed to finish the notebook. That afternoon he summoned Zhù Ying again and said: “You may hold off on writing poetry for now. Thoroughly absorb what he has said here. Continue reading the books.”

Zhù Ying lost no time in stating her plan. Zheng Xi laughed: “You come here just knowing how to freeload!”

Zhù Ying said: “I’ve gotten used to it.”

Zheng Xi kept laughing: “Fine, then stay used to it. Now — today, take what you’ve written here and go to the Jingzhao Prefecture. Ask him to give you a little more guidance.”

“What?”

“Go. It won’t go wrong.”

“All right!” Zhù Ying agreed without a moment’s hesitation. Another visit with Wang Yunhe would be very welcome indeed. Wang Yunhe’s capabilities were something she still needed to learn from. Without Wang Yunhe, she would still be stumbling around on her own — aware that there was something wrong with the world but unable to identify exactly what the great ailment was. Now she understood a little more. As long as Wang Yunhe was willing to speak, she would listen!

And besides, Zheng Xi would not harm her — at least not now. He had been reasonably attentive to her from the very first meeting. Though each of them got something out of the arrangement, the exchange was fair.

Zhù Ying left her post the moment she was dismissed and went straight to the Jingzhao Prefecture with her notebook.

———

Because of that one deep conversation she had previously had with Wang Yunhe, the staff of the Jingzhao Prefecture now looked at her with a touch more warmth. Captain Zhang, taking advantage of his familiarity with her, even gave her a reminder: “Lord Wang treats you differently from the rest, so don’t go and disappoint him!”

Zhù Ying gave him a peculiar look and said: “What kind of thing is that to say?”

“Well, last time—”

Zhù Ying said: “Is Lord Wang smarter than you?”

“That goes without saying.”

“Then isn’t that settled? He is a good man, not a foolish one. By my estimation, he understands things far better than you do.”

Captain Zhang was so thoroughly blocked he couldn’t find a word to say. He wanted to argue back, but it did seem to work out to that.

A young manservant came out from inside, smiling: “Please, Minor Official Zhù, Lord Wang invites you to the study.”

Zhù Ying straightened her robes and went in to see Wang Yunhe, just as before.

There was someone else in Wang Yunhe’s study. After Zhù Ying entered, she saw a young man — she supposed he qualified as a young man — sitting with perfectly straight posture. She first paid her respects to Wang Yunhe. Wang Yunhe said: “Little Zhù, your timing is perfect — I was just thinking of you! Zigong, this is the Little Zhù I was telling you about just now. Little Zhù, this is my student, Xian Jing, styled Zigong.”

Zhù Ying and Xian Jing exchanged the salute between peers, and in the single rise and bow Zhù Ying sized him up fairly well. Xian Jing appeared to be roughly the same age as Zheng Xi. He wore a short beard; his circumstances at home were evidently not as comfortable as Zheng Xi’s, though he was clearly not wanting for food or clothing either. He wore a blue scholar’s robe, with embroidery at the collar and cuffs.

He is an official. Zhù Ying could smell officialdom on him.

Xian Jing was also studying Zhù Ying. He was about to depart the capital for a posting outside, and had come to bid farewell to his teacher before leaving; he had heard the teacher mention that Zhù Ying was a very earnest student, and as it happened, he had run into her, so he was sizing her up with a somewhat appraising air. He had not expected the “young person” the teacher described to be quite this young — not yet come of age.

Both exchanged introductions and then took their seats.

Wang Yunhe asked Zhù Ying: “Little Zhù, what brings you here today?”

Zhù Ying rose and presented her notebook to him. Wang Yunhe was momentarily uncertain as he received it — people often brought essays for him to review, but Zhù Ying was an exception; she never wrote essays, she only borrowed ledgers and books. That Zhù Ying had written a notebook was surprising; the cover bore no title, just a blank board. Wang Yunhe opened the cover and had barely read a few lines of the first page before a smile began spreading across his face. He flipped through rapidly, almost at a glance per page, pausing now and then to read a particular page more carefully.

The room was completely quiet. Xian Jing was intensely curious about what Zhù Ying had brought that could so utterly captivate his teacher; he craned his neck slightly, then silently went on waiting.

Wang Yunhe finished the notebook and could not suppress the smile on his face. He said to Zhù Ying: “I was just telling Zigong that I wanted to write an essay—”

Xian Jing let out an “Ah!” and said: “Can it be — is this it? How did you, Zhù—”

Wang Yunhe explained the circumstances to him. Xian Jing nodded repeatedly and asked Wang Yunhe if he might take a look. Wang Yunhe said to Zhù Ying: “You are the one who wrote this from memory. You decide.”

Zhù Ying said: “The words inside are all yours — why ask me?”

Wang Yunhe handed the notebook to Xian Jing and rubbed his hands together, saying: “Your own annotations alongside are very good too! Ah! I have been too pressed for time these past days — I had barely made a start! And you have already written it all out!”

Seeing Xian Jing still reading, Zhù Ying took the opportunity to hand Wang Yunhe her reading list. Wang Yunhe said: “What is this?”

“After listening to you, I want to re-read my books. Does this list work, read in this order against that framework?”

Wang Yunhe was overjoyed. He said: “A young person eager to learn — a wonderful thing! Zigong, look at this, look! This is someone who knows how to read!”

Xian Jing was absorbed in the notebook and answered distractedly: “Mm, mm.” Wang Yunhe didn’t mind, and set about revising the reading list, writing as he spoke: “If there is anything you don’t understand, you may come and ask me.” Zhù Ying was delighted: “That would be absolutely wonderful!”

On the other side, Xian Jing moved through it considerably faster than Zheng Xi had — many of the principles here he had long since grasped himself, and some had been taught to him by his teacher Wang Yunhe. When he came to Wang Yunhe’s most recent reflections, he slowed down to study them carefully and make note. He also glanced at the annotations Zhù Ying had added, giving an occasional nod. When he finished, he handed the notebook back to Wang Yunhe and said: “Extremely thorough.”

Wang Yunhe showed him the revised reading list and asked his opinion. Xian Jing asked, with some curiosity: “How was Zhù’s reading approach before all this?” What he really wanted to ask was: what were you doing before this? Xian Jing himself had come through the jinshi examination and had something of a reputation as a writer, yet he had never heard of anyone by the name Zhù Ying. He was Wang Yunhe’s student; he had spent time mourning at home and was now returning to office. Even so, if there were any rising talents, his friends should have written to tell him before he entered the capital. Judging by the notebook, Zhù Ying could recall this quantity of content and distill it so precisely — she should not be a nobody. Yet strangely, someone of that ability should not only now be compiling a list of books to read.

Zhù Ying said: “I read very little. I read whatever happened to come to hand and had no real system. I’m starting over now.”

Wang Yunhe said: “It is never too late.” He then told Xian Jing that Zhù Ying had come through the Classics of Law examination.

Xian Jing asked in surprise: “Why take that path?”

“I have a family to support.”

Xian Jing said: “What a waste — what would a few more years have mattered? This pride of yours is misdirected. Your parents raised you all this way. They wouldn’t have minded waiting a few more years. One wrong step and every step after is precarious!”

“At least now it is I who am supporting my parents, not depending on others’ charity.” Zhù Ying stated it as though it were obvious. Ask her to sit for the jinshi examination — she didn’t know how many years of study that would take; how would the whole family live in the capital in the meantime?

Wang Yunhe said: “A person of aspiration who is eager to learn — it is never too late. Take this list and read carefully.”

Zhù Ying accepted the reading list. Xian Jing, however, asked to borrow the notebook: “I am leaving the capital tomorrow and am afraid I cannot wait for the teacher’s essay. I wish to borrow Zhù’s handwritten record to read at leisure, and shall return it tomorrow — would that be possible?”

Zhù Ying said: “Of course. Just take it. It’s written from memory anyway — I can go home and write another copy.”

Xian Jing said: “That won’t be necessary. I only wish to borrow it for a look.” Wang Yunhe said to Zhù Ying: “You took the trouble to write it out — there is no need to give it to him. Let him go home and write his own copy from memory.”

Zhù Ying said: “That works.” She reckoned Wang Yunhe must have this kind of ability himself — if for no other reason than that the breadth of books and the summary of learning he had compiled required him to have absorbed a great many works thoroughly. The first step in absorption was not word-for-word memorization, but at least being able to recall eight or nine parts in ten. Only after that could one develop one’s own synthesis. How much effort did that require? So one could not spend too much time just memorizing — one needed a good memory, and then time could be freed up for genuine scholarship. He must have a formidable one.

All three smiled. Wang Yunhe asked Zhù Ying: “Looking at your marginal notes, it seems you have arrived at something?”

Zhù Ying said: “I understand now why you had me read the Spring and Autumn Annals — not to use it as a legal code for adjudicating cases.”

Wang Yunhe’s smile had not faded: “Is that so?”

“Confucius wrote the Spring and Autumn Annals, and treacherous ministers and unfilial sons trembled. Ritual is also punishment.”

Both Wang Yunhe and Xian Jing laughed: “You understand, you understand.”

Wang Yunhe pressed her to continue. Zhù Ying said: “The Annals’ writing style is quite interesting too — though reading it makes one a little frustrated.”

Xian Jing asked: “Why?”

“It never explains things clearly — it just leaves you to guess.”

Wang Yunhe said: “You lack a teacher. No matter — you may come and ask me.”

Zhù Ying immediately rose and gave a bow: “I would not dare impose too much. Just a word or two of guidance when you have a spare moment will be more than enough.”

By this time the Jingzhao Prefecture’s evening meal had been set out, and the three of them ate while talking. Wang Yunhe was so pleased with the conversation that he called for wine, and Zhù Ying did not decline. The three of them were together, and someone then remarked that “drinking without a game is dull.” Zhù Ying didn’t know games like covering objects for guessing and the like; what she knew were dice, pitch-pot, and finger-guessing — but those were not quite appropriate to suggest in this company.

Wang Yunhe said: “Then let’s recite books for sport.” He named a few works that Zhù Ying had also memorized; the three of them played a back-and-forth recitation game, one saying the first part and the next saying the following — anyone who could not continue had to drink.

But who among these three would fail to continue? This was far too dull!

Wang Yunhe casually picked up a newly purchased literary anthology: “Here we go — this one. Just bought, not yet read.” He asked a young manservant to count from one to a hundred and see who could recite the most. Whoever recited the least had to drink. They started from the beginning, then someone would flip to a random page and start another round. The three of them traded wins and losses; Zhù Ying predictably drank.

After three cups, she did what one would expect — she began to say things she probably should not have. She could not say anything untoward about the two people in front of her, so Zhù Ying instead settled into a properly upright posture and began talking about various matters at the Jingzhao Prefecture offices.

She started from the food on the table, saying: “I’m eating well today. Last time I came here on a case, the food the prefecture packed for me was nothing but plain rice and salted vegetables. It must have been because they couldn’t stand the sight of me.”

Wang Yunhe and Xian Jing had never seen her like this and were both fascinated. Xian Jing asked: “Why was that?”

“They thought I was a traitor. The Court of Judicial Review had come to steal the Jingzhao Prefecture’s case.”

Wang Yunhe asked: “What else?”

There was much more! Things like: when she worked the Zhou You case last time, the Jingzhao people couldn’t stand her. Things like: Captain Li, desperate to find evidence, climbing up on the roof and falling down. Things like: Coroner Yang and Coroner Tian competing with each other, and both of them having quietly examined the female corpse while claiming that a male could not examine a female body. Then she said: Wang Yunhe is actually quite skilled at managing things, because the food here is good. The food at the Court of Judicial Review is also good — Lord Zheng has probably subsidized it out of his own pocket quite considerably.

“Anyone who only ever says Lord Wang is as pure as water is a fool! Lord Wang is quite good at earning money — and not only that, he can also read accounts. Though Lord Wang doesn’t have an entirely easy life either, because there are always fools dragging him back.”

She also said the manservant who had just been doing the counting must have been secretly pinching from the newly opened flowers, because there were traces on his hands! The manservant jumped up: “Don’t talk nonsense and slander an innocent person!”

Zhù Ying said: “You’re the one talking nonsense! My eyes don’t get things wrong!”

The two of them began to quarrel. Zhù Ying went on to deduce that the manservant’s clothes were torn without being mended — which meant either that he was disagreeable to people, or that he was currently very poor and had his wages committed to something. She had guessed everything right. It reduced the manservant nearly to tears.

Wang Yunhe and Xian Jing looked on in helpless amusement and quickly called out: “What sort of conduct is this when drinking? Quickly see him home!”

Captain Zhang received this task and moved to take Zhù Ying away. But Zhù Ying walked without the slightest sign of being drunk, even pausing to say hello: “I’m perfectly fine. Uncle.”

Captain Zhang’s legs nearly gave out beneath him as he went down on his knee. He hastily explained to Wang Yunhe: “This humble person and Minor Official Zhù’s mother share the same surname. Minor Official Zhù is joking.”

“It’s not a joke — my mother calls you ‘big brother’!”

Captain Zhang wished desperately that he could seal her mouth!

Wang Yunhe said: “Go with her and see her home safely.”

Zhù Ying didn’t forget to take the reading list. She also said to Xian Jing: “What time are you leaving tomorrow? I’ll come and see you off, and pick up my notebook at the same time.”

Xian Jing grinned: “You still haven’t forgotten about that?”

“Didn’t you say so yourself?”

“Right, right. Tonight I’m staying at the teacher’s place, so tomorrow I won’t take it away — you can come by and collect it.”

“Good.” Zhù Ying gave a nod, then said to Wang Yunhe: “My Lord, if I don’t go home now, you will have to write me another note.”

Wang Yunhe found her entertaining, and said: “Then go home.” He had the kitchen pack up a food box of good dishes and had Captain Zhang carry it to send her home with.

Zhù Ying expressed her thanks, took her leave, and went home. As if she hadn’t drunk a drop.

Wang Yunhe watched her go, then asked the manservant: “Was what she said accurate?”

The manservant went down on his knees and wept: “It is true that my mother is ill…”

Wang Yunhe nodded, gave him some money, told him to find a good physician for his mother and treat the illness properly all at once rather than dragging it out and wasting money. He also told the manservant to stop crying in front of him and go home quickly, then had a different manservant brought in to attend the meal; he and Xian Jing, teacher and student, continued drinking and talking, finding it all most delightful.

Xian Jing laughed: “No wonder the teacher likes her — she is indeed entertaining.”

Wang Yunhe said: “It is because she has a sincere heart.”

Xian Jing said: “A pity her studies were delayed.”

Wang Yunhe said: “And yet she does real, practical work. If you only look at whether a person has passed the jinshi examination, you will miss many people. Once you are posted in the provinces, take note—”

Teacher and student talked on deep into the night.

…

Meanwhile, Captain Zhang carried the food box and followed Zhù Ying home. That drunk — three cups and she was running off at the mouth — as long as no one provoked her, she didn’t speak; she walked along perfectly steadily, could find her own way, and when she got home she could knock on the door normally! She didn’t even slur her words!

At home, Zhang Xiangu pulled the door open and greeted Zhù Ying normally. Zhù Ying told her: “Uncle followed me home.”

Zhang Xiangu was just about to ask which uncle — and then she saw Captain Zhang and immediately burst out: “Aiyo, big brother!”

Captain Zhang’s face went green: “Please! Madam, please don’t joke like that! Today — aiyo — today Minor Official Zhù said it in front of Lord Wang! Right to his face!!!”

Zhang Xiangu tensed the moment she heard the word “drunk.” Zhù Ying said: “I’m not drunk.” Zhang Xiangu repeated it: “Oh, not drunk. Oh, oh!” She remembered herself, sent Zhù Ying to her room to rest, and thanked Captain Zhang. Captain Zhang could only take it as his misfortune, handed the food box to Zhang Xiangu, and said: “Madam, this was sent over by Lord Wang’s order. Minor Official Zhù was only at the Jingzhao Prefecture with Lord Wang — only three cups of wine — and she got like that! It was nearly enough to expose all our old secrets! She also said Lord Wang is good at earning money — is that something one should just say out loud?!”

“Oh dear, oh dear,” Zhang Xiangu tilted her face, “I’ve said it before — no wine, no wine! Big brother—”

“Ah, please don’t say it like that.”

Zhang Xiangu said: “Fine, fine. Not in front of outsiders. Shall I wash the dishes tomorrow and have someone return them to you?”

Captain Zhang said: “However you like, I must be going.” And he left.

Zhang Xiangu brought the food box inside and said to Huajie: “Everything’s fine.” Huajie turned around — Zhù Ying had already changed into her house clothes and was walking over carrying the chopstick holder, saying: “Let’s eat! The Jingzhao Prefecture’s food — it’s good!” Huajie understood at a glance and poked Zhù Ying’s shoulder with one finger, saying: “You are something else.”

The family ate dinner, and Zhù Ying recounted the day’s events. Zhang Xiangu said: “That’s good then. When they invite you to drink, you should drink — if you always refuse, they’ll make a point of teasing you. When invited to drink, drink! As long as they can handle it! Lord Wang is a good official, so don’t go around saying bad things about him. Anyone else — hmph!”

Zhù Da said: “The food was good, but the wine was lacking — Lord Wang is a little stingy.” Zhang Xiangu scolded: “You wish! That was for the child! Lord Wang is just right in my estimation — when San’er doesn’t drink, he doesn’t offer wine.”

After dinner, Zhù Ying moved to wash the dishes and was pushed away by Zhang Xiangu: “Go read your books, go read your books. Ah, the Dragon Boat Festival is coming up soon — you’ll be receiving new cloth again.” Zhù Ying said: “I’m not going to grow much more at my age — don’t bother making new clothes this year.” Zhang Xiangu said: “You flatter yourself! I was actually thinking — Huajie’s clothes are two or three years old now, she only has a few to begin with, so this year we’ll use the cloth to have something made for her.”

In Zhang Xiangu’s heart, Huajie was exactly what she imagined a daughter should be like. Capable with housework, able to write and do accounts, a pleasant temperament and a pleasing face — and she still looked like a young woman! Loveable, and so careful with money; she had been managing the household finances for these past years and Zhang Xiangu didn’t have to worry about a thing. Take her along on any social call and she could help plug no small number of gaps. Wasn’t she worth a new outfit?

Zhù Ying said: “All right!”

Huajie said: “I go to the nunnery to help with medicines — there’s no need for nice clothes.”

“Oh, but you need at least one presentable outfit and mustn’t let people look down on you.”

A while later, when the housework was done, Huajie went to Zhù Ying’s room to memorize a prescription or two — and to save on lamp oil. While waiting for Zhù Ying to practice two pages of characters and pause to grind fresh ink, she said: “Little Zhù.”

“Mm?”

Huajie said seriously: “Are you on very good terms with Lord Wang?”

“Pretty good, I suppose.”

Huajie said earnestly: “And what about Lord Zheng?”

Zhù Ying said: “Don’t worry — today Lord Zheng was the one who sent me.”

“What?”

“Hmm… I suspect he’s too busy with me himself, so he’s having me go pick up a little teaching over at Lord Wang’s side.”

Huajie said: “Whoever heard of such a thing? Pushing you back and forth like that? This Lord Zheng really is — you handled so much of those account books during the asset seizure for him, and he still doesn’t think that’s enough to—” She caught herself and immediately stopped.

Zhù Ying didn’t mind, and said: “Isn’t this allowing me to keep close ties with Lord Wang? Otherwise, just watch how he handles people who betray him. I know where the lines are — don’t worry.”

Huajie breathed a sigh of relief and smiled: “Good. You are far more careful than those men out there working as officials — careful and kind-hearted.”

Zhù Ying said: “Please stop praising me! How many prescriptions have you memorized?”

“Oh! You distracted me — I forgot! I wish my head were even half as quick as yours.”

Zhù Ying smiled and waved her hand: “What does it matter if you memorize quickly or slowly? No matter how slowly you learn, once you know it, you help anyone who comes to you with an illness. Some people learn quickly but don’t necessarily extend a hand when they meet a sick person. The speed of learning and the quality of the healer have no necessary connection. Come — let me copy it out for you. What book is this? It’s quite worn.”

Her calligraphy these past two years had come along well — still far from the great masters, but she had a natural gift for imitation. Writing in regular script, following a model character by character, her work was neat and precise, and she went from first stroke to last without a single wrong character. Huajie didn’t want her to be distracted; Zhù Ying said: “Think of it as me studying medicine too.”

Huajie couldn’t tell if she was serious, and simply let her be. She got up, went to Zhù Ying’s bookshelf, re-organized the books there, and, working from the reading list, picked out the volumes listed earliest and set them ready for her to read.

…

Huajie reminded Zhù Ying to be careful. Since Zheng Xi was effectively Zhù Ying’s patron in officialdom and still her superior, the frequency of her recent visits to Wang Yunhe — almost as if she were becoming his student — was a sensitive matter. For Wang Yunhe, a true gentleman of lofty status, it was almost as if someone were undermining him; for Zhù Ying it carried something of the flavor of betrayal. Not many people would dare speak ill of Wang Yunhe. Zhù Ying would need to be careful.

The next morning at the Court of Judicial Review, Zhù Ying said to Zheng Xi: “My elder sister was actually worried and said that I keep running over to the Jingzhao Prefecture and hoped it wouldn’t cause a misunderstanding on Lord Zheng’s side.”

Zheng Xi said: “She is a good woman. Are you truly not interested in having such a capable companion? Now that the Shen and Feng families are no longer an obstacle.”

“They were extras from the start.”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

Zhù Ying said: “I originally recognized only Elder Sister — they were just extras that came with her. Now that they’re no longer related to Elder Sister, they’re not even extras anymore. Why bring them up? Elder Sister is perfectly happy as she is now, and so am I. She is still supporting her late husband’s mother.”

Zheng Xi, hearing the word “extras,” understood and laughed out loud: “Ha ha ha ha! Only you could say something like that.”

“I’ve always spoken this way, and I never had any intention of piggybacking on them for anything.”

Zheng Xi asked: “And what about me?”

Zhù Ying thought about it and said: “About one step below Elder Sister.”

Zheng Xi was not pleased: “Where do I fall short?”

“You came a little later.” She thought about it — if she had first met Zheng Xi instead, this person would probably have helped her too, and she would have felt gratitude toward him. But it was too late for that. She had first met Huajie, and Huajie had never wanted anything from her. The dealings with Zheng Xi still carried a somewhat transactional air.

Zheng Xi accepted this and said: “So be it.” He also looked over the reading list Wang Yunhe had given, and told Zhù Ying to study it carefully.

Without having to write poetry, Zhù Ying was very happy. She hugged her books and went to read them; in the evenings she returned the food box and took it back to the Jingzhao Prefecture, then came home and kept reading.

The weather grew increasingly hot. The Dragon Boat Festival was in sight. Two days before the festival, the rewards were distributed. Zhù Ying received her festival allotment, the same as in the two previous years. Zhang Xiangu carried out her plan and had a decent outfit made for Huajie at the tailor’s. Huajie was not idle either — she wove five-colored cords, and together with Zhang Xiangu she wrapped zongzi dumplings. Zhù Ying rolled up her sleeves to help as well; Zhang Xiangu wouldn’t let her, sending her off with: “Oh — now that I think of it, I want to make a few salted pork ones, and we don’t have any salted pork at home. You go and buy some.”

Zhù Ying looked around the house — with Huajie in charge, everything was more thorough than Zhang Xiangu’s management. The house had everything, most of the jars and pots still half full. Only snacks and small treats were in short supply; she was mostly the one who bought those, while everyone else in the house was very frugal on that front. She mentally listed what she needed and headed out to the market. She hired a donkey first and had it carry a basket; she bought a large piece of salted pork, then went around buying various snacks and preserved sweets, fresh fruit, duck eggs, and goose eggs. When she had nearly everything, she planned to also get some hawthorn pills.

There were pickpockets in the market. She casually also bought a large bag of candies and handed a fistful to any young ones she passed. Quite a few pickpockets recognized her and didn’t dare reach for her as she passed by, then were surprised to find their own pouches a little heavier with candy. They smiled and let the candy sit in their mouths as she went by.

Near the market exit, Zhù Ying’s sharp eyes spotted the little dark-skinned girl from Xiao Jiang’s household, carrying an enormous back-basket, also out shopping. Zhù Ying frowned and walked over: “Why did you come out alone?”

The little girl said indignantly: “I can do plenty of things on my own!”

Zhù Ying thought: at your height, with that basket — never mind whether you’re tired — if someone wants to rob you, you barely put something in before someone behind you lifts it right back out. She took on an extra task and said: “What are you buying? I’ll take you — there are a lot of pickpockets here.”

The little girl glanced at her and said: “Mistress says to buy clean zongzi leaves and white rice and wrap our own.” Zhù Ying took her to buy zongzi leaves and glutinous rice, then picked up some dates, set aside a portion of the salted pork, and lastly gave her two big goose eggs: “Throw those in a pot and cook them together.” She walked the girl to the road and let her go, then made her own way home.

At home she said nothing about who she had run into, rolled up her sleeves, and chopped the salted pork. Then she helped wrap dumplings. Zhang Xiangu said: “The zongzi you brought back are excellent. We’ll keep them for the actual festival day. These ones we’re making now — we can eat those over the next few days, filling and portable.”

She had it planned nicely, but on the actual afternoon of the Dragon Boat Festival, Zhù Ying was not able to eat at home — Zheng Xi had summoned her.

…

Zheng Xi observed the Dragon Boat Festival too, but he still found time to call Zhù Ying in.

When Zhù Ying arrived at the Zheng household, she was led to a small pavilion by the water. The young manservant leading her was someone she recognized, and she asked: “Is there something on? Doesn’t Lord Zheng observe the festival?”

The manservant smiled: “Everyone here is one of us — there needs to be a gathering. In my heart, you are this.” He made a thumbs-up gesture.

Zhù Ying arrived at the water pavilion and found the host’s seat empty — Zheng Xi had not yet arrived — but several people were already seated below.

The young man at the first place on the left was dressed the most finely of all of them, his clothes and accessories carefully selected and very distinguished. At the second place on the left sat a young scholar, refined and composed but with a faint arrogance of one who surveys the world and points out its flaws. The third on the left was similar to the second but appeared more restrained.

The first place on the right was someone she had met — a young accountant, whom she had dealt with when Zheng Xi conducted the audit and the asset seizure. This person was named Shao Shuxin; he was silent and taciturn, and Zhù Ying had simply not troubled him — knowing he was someone Zheng Xi had brought in was enough. She had not expected to see him here. The second on the right had something of Jin Liang’s manner about him — he appeared to be a military officer around twenty years old; the calluses on his hands showed he was someone who had trained steadily for years.

All these people shared one common characteristic — they were good-looking and young.

The young manservant led Zhù Ying to the third place on the right.

Zhù Ying took one look at her position, then looked at the other people, and thought: damn — I’m last?

She looked back at the young manservant and thought: you little rascal, you were flattering me just now.

She had barely sat down when Zheng Xi arrived, accompanied by Gan Ze and Lu Chao. When he entered, everyone rose. Zheng Xi smiled and sat down: “Please be seated — no need for formalities. Have you all been introduced?”

Not at all!

Zheng Xi then made the introductions. On the left, in order, were: Zheng Xi’s clan younger brother Zheng Yi, Hanlin Academician Lin Zhen, and Investigating Censor Jiang Zhi — the latter two had come through the jinshi examination. Zhù Ying had not mingled much in scholarly circles before, so she did not know their names.

The second on the right, seated next to Zhù Ying, was Cavalry Commander Wen Yue; his father had been an old subordinate of Lord Zheng the Marquis.

The more surprising one was Shao Shuxin — he was evidently not just a simple accountant. Two years had passed without her seeing him, and he had risen to the position of Deputy Director in the Ministry of Finance! Though his rank was roughly similar to Zhù Ying’s, he was in Revenue — that felt considerably more impressive than her own position catching criminals. She still had no idea how he had ended up working as an accountant for the Court of Judicial Review back then.

When all the names were announced, only Zheng Yi attracted a little extra attention because of the surname “Zheng.” The others were unremarkable.

Of the six, only Zhù Ying had even a thin trace of minor reputation in the capital. Part of it came from the Gong case — two years ago now — and people said she was kind, gentle, and approachable, and had mostly forgotten about it after that. Another part came from more recently, on account of Wang Yunhe: people said her character must be decent since Wang Yunhe would agree to meet with her, and the Jingzhao Prefecture staff also said she had some skill in breaking cases. There was also a faint thread of reputation from the pleasure quarters — people said she did not mistreat anyone there. She couldn’t be called tender-hearted exactly, but she was, simply: decent.

Zheng Xi was quite pleased with these several people. Looking them over at a glance — young, upright, very good!

He said: “It’s been a while since we’ve gathered. Today everyone happens to be free — come!”

Distant music began to play; food and wine were brought in one after another. Zheng Xi specifically instructed: “Give Sanlang tea — he can’t manage wine.” Then he said to Lin Zhen and Jiang Zhi: “Rest when you should rest. Get to know some new friends.”

He said nothing of any importance — as if he had simply gathered a few people for a casual festival gathering, introducing them and saying to “grow closer.” When the guests departed, he had prepared a gift for each: four rolls of gift fabric, plus gold and silver items and the like.

Outside the gate, everyone else had manservants following behind to carry things. Only Zhù Ying was by herself carrying her own load — until Gan Ze ran out from behind: “Let me walk you home.”