In truth, Lou Shuwan had already spotted Ning Yi the moment he’d walked in from outside.

Fang La’s uprising had been carried out under the banner of “the law applies equally, without distinction of rank” — and though such a slogan was, of course, only a slogan, with few people bothering to extend its logic to matters of gender equality, his own sister Fang Baihua herself stood as one of the most important commanders within the rebel forces, with no shortage of women soldiers and officers serving under her banner. Because of this, it wasn’t especially surprising that the newly founded Yongle court had gone on to appoint a number of capable, well-connected women to official posts as well.

Of course, more than half of the women currently serving within Fang La’s system had, in truth, already held some position from the very start — some had helped manage affairs on behalf of their husbands back in the mountain strongholds, others had come up through the ranks under Fang Baihua directly, and a few more had been recruited from within the Manichaean sect itself. Women’s status remained relatively low even now, and though these women did handle real responsibilities, their official titles tended to stay rather vague — nominally attached either to Fang Baihua’s command, or to the palace as court ladies-in-waiting.

Naturally, women attending the banquet couldn’t be seated together with the men, and had instead been arranged in a separate hall off to the side. It was still early; the Empress, who was expected to come out and receive the guests, had not yet appeared. Lou Shuwan was chatting idly with a woman she’d known previously when she happened to glimpse, quite by chance, that familiar figure passing by outside the window.

At first she thought she’d simply seen wrong.

Over these past two months — from the earthquake through the chaos of war, and the rebel army’s entry into the city — the Lou family too had weathered no small share of upheaval, moving from initial terror and uncertainty to gradually adjusting and coming to terms with the new reality. Throughout that period, there had been little time or inclination to keep track of what had become of the people around her. Only once things had more or less settled did she look back and realize just how many people she’d once known had since left the city, or vanished altogether — or, occasionally, that she’d run into them again on the street, only to realize they too had never managed to get away.

Ning Yi and Su Tan’er, in truth, had never really been part of Lou Shuwan’s immediate circle. The relationship between them had always been somewhat ambiguous to begin with — back when they’d first been in Hangzhou, whatever rapport she and Su Tan’er had shared was owed less to genuine friendship than to the simple fact that they’d both married matrilocal husbands. It hadn’t exactly been distant, but true intimacy between them, in her own mind, had never really been there either. Later, after that dispute out on West Lake, things had grown considerably more complicated — had matters continued on their original course, there was no telling how it might have ended — but the war that followed had swept all of that aside. She’d first been badly shaken by the fear of it all, then thrown into managing her family’s affairs, and now, with an official position of her own, the world around her had changed so completely that thinking back on it all felt, at times, almost like recalling another lifetime entirely.

The people and events of two months ago had all faded into something distant by now; if she’d ever thought of Ning Yi and Su Tan’er, that couple, she would have simply assumed they’d left Hangzhou long ago. She’d never made any effort to look into it, and there’d never seemed any need to. So this glimpse just now, naturally, must have been a mistake. She continued chatting in the room, but eventually stepped outside for some air, and after a short walk around, spotted the man in conversation with Long Boyuan.

Amid feelings even she herself couldn’t quite untangle, she smiled and offered a greeting.

“So neither of you managed to get away after all. Where’s Sister Tan’er?” she asked naturally, drawing close, smoothing back a strand of hair.

Ning Yi looked at her for a few seconds, then cupped his hands with a smile. “Tan’er made it back home. I wasn’t so lucky myself… You’re looking well, Miss Lou. Good to see you again.”

“Er… good to see you too, again.”

…

“…These past few months have really been a mess of a time… I went by Taiping Alley once, hoping to ask after you and Sister Tan’er, but… over there, well…”

The night breeze after the rain was pleasant; row upon row of great red lanterns stretched away into the distance, courtyard after courtyard filled with noise and bustle, occasionally punctuated by loud, unrestrained voices, rough greetings called out here and there. Maidservants tasked with serving the guests hurried past in twos and threes. Lou Shuwan and Ning Yi walked together beneath the eaves; time and circumstance can do a great deal to reshape and manufacture things between people, and, at least in this particular atmosphere, the two of them genuinely had reason enough to talk. Lou Shuwan mentioned, naturally enough, her visit to Taiping Alley; Ning Yi, of course, showed no particular reluctance to discuss it either.

“Taiping Alley… how does it look now?”

“Seems there was some trouble — it’s been blown to pieces, I’m not entirely sure of the details…”

“Tch. A failed investment.”

“What?”

“Nothing. And the Lou family… are you all doing well?”

Lou Shuwan’s visit to Taiping Alley had simply been on her way somewhere else that day; she’d looked over what had once been Ning Yi and Su Tan’er’s old residence, by then reduced to a heap of ruins. She hadn’t bothered asking around about it much — no particular interest, no real need to — and had simply assumed, more or less, that they’d left the city. As for Ning Yi, he’d originally chosen Taiping Alley as his residence on the theory that, if the Wu dynasty’s capital were ever to relocate southward, the area would see significant appreciation in value — only to have his confident, thousand-years-hence knowledge and foresight capsize on him after all. He couldn’t help but feel a certain rueful amusement at the thought, and made a small joke of it. When Ning Yi asked after the Lou family, Lou Shuwan gave a noncommittal smile in response.

“Father’s health is fine… When Hangzhou fell, everything was chaos. They say… Fang Qifo, Marshal Fo, sent Wang Yin to our home, threatening my father into staying, using the Lou family’s resources to help shoulder some of the Yongle court’s burdens. There wasn’t really any good way to leave at that point, so father agreed. Things haven’t been too badly affected since then, all things considered — just busier than usual.”

As she said this, she glanced briefly at Ning Yi. One of the reasons — though perhaps not the primary one — that had led Lou Jinlin to decide to stay behind was the friction the Lou family had felt with Qian Xiwen at that Start of Autumn poetry gathering; this had, in part, also been why Fang Qifo had approached the Lou family in the first place. And at the time, Ning Yi had appeared to be a central figure in that clash between Qian Xiwen and the Lou family as well.

Once she’d confirmed Ning Yi showed no unusual reaction, she went on: “About what happened that day at the poetry gathering, with Second Brother — I’ve been meaning to find a chance to apologize to you both for some time now. He’s not really a bad person, my brother… but with everything that happened afterward, it kept slipping by, and now…”

Ning Yi laughed. “Given everything since, what’s there left to say about such a small matter from back then?”

“True enough.” Lou Shuwan smiled and nodded, then asked after what had happened to Ning Yi since the city’s fall, where he was staying now — and in this way, more or less learned that Ning Yi hadn’t managed to escape, that he’d been captured and was now doing clerical work of some kind for the Overlord Blade Camp.

This wasn’t especially surprising to her; she knew Ning Yi had genuine talent, and finding some position wouldn’t have been difficult for a man like him. Still, the power structure of present-day Hangzhou had, by now, sorted itself into three rough tiers: those who’d joined Fang La’s rebellion from the very start, with seniority and broad connections, naturally counted as the first tier; families like the Lous, who’d only pledged loyalty once the city fell, counted as the second; but those who, after the city’s fall, had been captured and only afterward agreed to serve — however brilliant their talents might be — generally didn’t rank especially high at all.

Having more or less said what needed saying, she asked a few careful, roundabout questions about why Ning Yi had stayed behind while Su Tan’er had left. Ning Yi only said it was a long story, and she didn’t press further. As for the idea that Su Tan’er might have simply abandoned him and fled on her own, Lou Shuwan found that hard to believe — but she’d also witnessed far too many strange, twisted turns of events these past months to rule anything out entirely. War made anything seem possible. Either way, it didn’t seem the moment to keep asking.

They said their goodbyes shortly after, and Lou Shuwan returned to the side hall. With the window open, the space remained connected to the main venue even from here; she exchanged a few words with the woman she knew, glanced out the window, and before long, spotted Ning Yi again, seated in a corner on the other side, chatting and laughing easily with those around him — neither standoffish nor showing off, simply blending naturally into the warm red glow of lantern light all around.

Looking around at the men and women filling the hall, she found herself struck by just how much it all clashed with the life she’d once imagined for herself. The women here carried none of the refined grace of a well-bred lady, nor the fresh simplicity of a modest household girl — the woman beside her, forthright and tall, spoke with the unmistakable air of a country girl.

The men, too, carried an atmosphere thick with bloodshed and reckless abandon — men who’d licked blood off their blades, who’d rebelled and killed. Some, sturdily built, looked like dockworkers hauling cargo, though far more brazen; others resembled the sort of jianghu toughs and gang leaders she’d occasionally encountered before, though carrying a good deal more composure and menace about them — a gang leader might only collect protection money and stir up minor trouble, but these men made killing their actual profession.

In an earlier time, she might have occasionally admired, even longed for, this sort of man — but life was life, and such things weren’t meant to be more than a diversion from it. As she caught sight of her brother Lou Shuwang, off in the distance, walking through the crowd alongside Lou Jingzhi, son of the Left Chancellor, she suddenly became aware of a certain heaviness she hadn’t allowed herself to properly examine over this past month or more — brought suddenly into focus, and just as suddenly softened, by Ning Yi’s unexpected reappearance.

It was almost like waking from sleep. She had stopped thinking about her old life, knowing there was no use in it — but now, even knowing it was still of no use, she found herself thinking of it again regardless.

She was no longer the sort of foolish young woman who’d let herself grow troubled over such things, she told herself, sitting with the thought.

Her relationship with Ning Yi and his wife had never been especially close. They’d first crossed paths on the road south, traveled together on to Hangzhou; there had been moments then that seemed warm enough on the surface, but she’d never truly opened her heart to the other woman, and doubted the feeling wasn’t mutual. Relationships between women could be simple at times, complicated at others — but there was no denying that, whatever had first drawn them together, it had been their shared circumstance of having married husbands who’d taken their wives’ family names. And yet, as time went on, her curiosity and attention toward Ning Yi himself had always run rather deeper than toward Su Tan’er.

What should have been an exchange of shared grievances over having such unremarkable husbands had, in the end, left her quietly convinced that the other woman was, in fact, happier than she was. Her curiosity about Ning Yi hadn’t lasted especially long — it had come to an abrupt stop, in fact, right after that dazzling display of his at the Start of Autumn poetry gathering. It wasn’t that she regarded Ning Yi as some paragon beyond compare, some impossibly perfect figure to look up to — but something about his manner, his bearing, both in conversation and in how he carried himself — much as he had tonight at this very banquet — had left her thinking, almost against her will, that if she could have had such an opportunity herself, such a husband to marry into her own household, perhaps she too could have found real contentment, could have lived an ordinary, natural married life like anyone else. Not necessarily the very best outcome imaginable, perhaps — but the most fitting one.

She glanced once more out the window, then settled back into her chair. Having thought this much through, the rest fell into place easily enough.

Su Tan’er had left — however that had actually come about — and he hadn’t managed to get away. Her own life, too, had already been thoroughly upended. Whatever else was true, the war had changed a great many people and things beyond recognition, and this world had become an unruly, chaotic place — and she genuinely wanted a man like this for herself.

She wanted him to become her man.

Having settled this matter in her own mind, Lou Shuwan took a sip of tea and continued chatting with the woman beside her.

At that same moment, over in the main hall, Lou Shuwang caught sight of Ning Yi.