A path paved with blue flagstones wound through the elegant compound; the bright midsummer sunlight fell in dappled patches of gold through the gaps in the trees, and a warm, gentle breeze carried the faint sounds of voices and footsteps. The cool freshness of summer felt, at this moment, like something out of the warmest, most tender memory buried deep in his past — this was the feeling that welled up in Yu Hezhong’s heart as he followed the white-clad woman deeper into the inner courtyard.

His vanished youth, the Bianliang of old, the possibilities of a life gradually solidifying into what it now was — these thoughts flickered through his mind even as he, prompted by Shishi’s questions, introduced the people accompanying him: a colleague who had shown him kindness over the years, Yan Daolun, who had come all this way to Chengdu and, worried that Yu Hezhong might make the trip in vain visiting an old friend alone, had decided to accompany him.

Yan Daolun followed along with a polite self-introduction. Shishi tilted her head to listen, smiled gently, exchanged a few customary pleasantries, and the three of them turned into a side courtyard. It was a small courtyard enclosed by rooms on three sides, facing out onto Moho Lake, with rockeries, trees, a pavilion, tables and chairs; every room seemed to be occupied, with guards on duty stationed unobtrusively in the corners.

“…This side used to be the private estate of the rice merchant He Lang. After the Huaxia Army entered the city, when they were looking for a place to hold receptions for this assembly, He Lang wanted to donate the estate outright, but land near Moho Lake is worth its weight in gold, so we didn’t feel we could accept it as a gift. In the end we took it at eighty percent of market value — thirty-two thousand guan — which counted as something of a bargain for us. I stay in these two rooms on the left, but it’s such lovely weather today, why don’t we have our tea outside instead…”

Shishi smiled as she explained the history of the courtyard to the two men. She was no longer young, but her looks hadn’t aged — if anything, her smile had grown even more captivating with the years and experience behind it. Watching that smile, Yu Hezhong answered almost without thinking: “Liheng’s always been formidable when it comes to business — I imagine money’s never in short supply for him.”

Shishi shook her head with a smile. “Actually, money’s in desperately short supply. Of that thirty-two thousand guan, only about ten thousand was paid in cash — the rest was settled with shares in the glassworks, cobbled together from this and that.”

“The Huaxia Army’s glassworks are bound to be worth a fortune down the road,” Yan Daolun cut in. “The Huaxia Army is certainly generous — He Lang got quite the deal out of this.”

The corner of Shishi’s mouth curved into a crescent. “Mr. Ning has never been one to hog a business all to himself when it comes to trade — everyone’s welcome to get in on it, which is exactly why the business can grow so large. Master Yan, please, sit with Hezhong — I’ll go find someone to bring us tea.”

They stopped at a wooden table beneath the swaying shade by the lakeside. As Shishi said this, Yan Daolun hurriedly waved his hands. “No need, no need — I merely happened to be passing this way, so I accompanied Brother Yu along. Since the two of you, brother and sister, are reuniting after so long apart, I still have matters of my own to attend to — no need to trouble Miss Shishi on my account… In truth, I’ve long heard of Miss Shishi’s renown, and to finally meet you today is an honor indeed. My wish is fulfilled, ha ha ha ha…”

True to his word, he made as if to leave right after his greeting, but Shishi held up a hand. “No, no, that won’t do. Since Master Yan is a friend of Brother Yu’s, now that you’re here, you really must stay for at least one cup of tea before leaving — otherwise people will say I, as his sister, don’t know the first thing about proper hospitality…”

She held up her left hand, smiling warmly and sincerely. As Yan Daolun made to decline once more, she tilted her head and said with a smile: “…I insist.” Beneath the warmth of that smile lay a hint of genuine earnestness. Yan Daolun blinked in mild surprise, then finally smiled and gestured toward the table and chairs. “Well then… just one cup? Just the one… I really wouldn’t want to trouble Miss Shishi any further…”

“It’s no trouble at all, no trouble — do sit.” Yu Hezhong, standing beside them, felt thoroughly gratified, and added his own voice urging Yan Daolun to stay. As Shishi went to summon a female soldier from the courtyard to prepare tea and refreshments, Yan Daolun glanced around and remarked to Yu Hezhong: “I hadn’t expected that, given Miss Shishi’s current standing, this courtyard would only allot her the use of two rooms.”

Yu Hezhong frowned and nodded. “Indeed — back at the Fanlou, she had an entire courtyard to herself. These days… perhaps that’s simply how the Huaxia Army operates…”

They exchanged a few more casual remarks, unable to draw any firm conclusions, before Yan Daolun turned his attention to admiring the lake view, steering the conversation toward the scenery instead. By the time Shishi returned, the two of them were praising the surrounding landscape as well. Once the female soldier brought out tea and refreshments, Shishi asked Yan Daolun: “Does Master Yan have any pressing business here in Chengdu? I hope we’re not delaying you. If there’s something urgent, I could have Xiaoling accompany you — she knows the area well.”

Yan Daolun laughed. “No, no, nothing of the sort — just ordinary matters.” He didn’t elaborate further, and the rest of the conversation continued along the lines of casual pleasantries. Once his cup of tea was finished, he rose to take his leave. Yu Hezhong, no longer the green newcomer he once was, had felt somewhat awkward upon first seeing Shishi, and had almost reflexively kept Yan Daolun around out of caution, half-worried he might have some ulterior motive — perhaps even keeping an eye on him. Only now, seeing him genuinely intent on leaving after such a brief visit, did he feel his mind finally settle.

He and Shishi rose to see the man off a short distance, then had the female soldier Xiaoling escort Yan Daolun out of the compound. Yu Hezhong found himself still somewhat puzzled that Yan Daolun’s visit had really amounted to nothing more than a brief greeting, but for the moment, he set the thought aside.

He turned his head, and found Shishi already looking at him, her face breaking into a radiant smile.

With Yan Daolun now gone, the two old friends, reunited after so long, sat facing each other at the small table by the lake. Given how long their separation had truly been, Yu Hezhong found himself somewhat ill at ease at first, but Shishi was warm and natural as ever, picking up a piece of pastry to nibble on as she began eagerly asking about all he’d experienced over the years, and inquiring after his wife and children as well. As they talked, Yu Hezhong found himself feeling deeply at ease — this was, in fact, nearly the first time in over a decade he’d felt so genuinely comfortable in conversation. Before long they were swapping stories of the amusing and difficult moments they’d each experienced over the years; as Shishi spoke of her own circumstances, Yu Hezhong found himself able to joke rather freely with her, even about the Huaxia Army itself. Even the less pleasant memories, in the warm atmosphere of this reunion, drew genuine laughter from both of them there in the scattered sunlight by the lake.

Shishi had always been sentimental toward old ties, and this same warm, spring-breeze feeling was exactly like what he remembered from Bianliang over a decade ago — back then, he and Chen Sifeng alike could speak their minds freely before Shishi without restraint, and she had never once thought there was anything improper in her old childhood friends’ candor.

They talked on for a while, and Yu Hezhong, recalling Yan Daolun’s earlier remark about her “only having two rooms,” and remembering the account of internal power struggles within the Huaxia Army that Yan Daolun had shared with him the day before, hesitated a moment before cautiously bringing it up. “Actually… though I’ve been out in the world these past years, I have heard a few things… about the situation within the Huaxia Army…”

“Oh? What kind of things?” Shishi asked, smiling.

“I’ve heard people say you’re quite an important figure within the Huaxia Army these days.”

“Hardly an important figure.” Yu Hezhong’s tone carried a hint of teasing, and Shishi shook her head with a laugh. “In truth, the Huaxia Army has been around for years now, and nearly every scholar in the realm still cries out against it. Liheng has trained plenty of capable staff, but truly skilled cultural officials are still few and far between. I happened to have some schooling in my youth, can read and do sums, so Liheng’s had me doing this and that — pressed into service, really… Honestly, this kind of official is still in short supply — a very significant shortage, actually.”

At this point, her gaze fell on Yu Hezhong. He met her eyes for a moment, then blinked. “Are you saying… actually… that…”

“No need to rush, Hezhong — you still don’t quite understand how things work in the Huaxia Army. You’ll be staying in Chengdu for a while yet, so think it over some more.” Shishi smiled, pushing the pastries toward him. “Though I’m certainly no important figure myself — I can’t get you any grand official post or anything.”

“My family’s all still back in Shishou. They’ve settled there for several years now, finally gotten comfortable — everyone keeps saying there won’t be any more fighting for a few years…” Yu Hezhong rambled on.

Shishi nodded. “I know, I know — and yes, the odds of fighting again in the next couple of years really are quite low. Mm, you mentioned hearing things about the Huaxia Army — what else did you hear?”

“Just things about you, really — that you’re in charge of diplomatic missions within the army, quite the formidable presence…”

“Mm-hm, is that what they say?”

“Of course! And apparently a lot of people have gained protection because of you — people like Li Jingshen, Nie Shaotang, Yu Changqing… these men used to hold real power and influence across the four routes of Sichuan, and now they all come to pay their respects to you. Whoever speaks up on your behalf outside will get your backing going forward. Quite the achiever, Lady Li. Up north there’s a female chancellor, and down here there’s you…”

Shishi laughed as she nibbled her pastry. “Now that’s nonsense talk. Chancellor Lou is truly formidable — I can’t even begin to compare with her. And here in the Huaxia Army, not even counting Liheng’s own ladies at home, even the female managers at the Zhu trading house are first-rate, formidable women in their own right — I don’t measure up to them either… So, anything else? Any other interesting bits?”

Yu Hezhong hesitated. “They said you… could have accomplished great things, but then in April, for some reason, you were pulled back to write scripts instead — those… little stories, the kind used in storytelling houses and pleasure quarters… And people started speculating that maybe you’d… I don’t know, offended someone, and that’s why you were suddenly reassigned to something like that. Shishi, between you and Liheng…”

He trailed off, hesitant, then added: “If you think I’m being too nosy, you don’t have to answer.”

“Then I won’t.” Shishi let out this remark, leaning against the table, covering her mouth as she laughed. Even in her usual warmth toward others, she’d always had a mischievous streak, and it didn’t come across as off-putting even now. Yu Hezhong said, “Well, never mind then—” only to hear Shishi continue: “You people really do love to overthink things…”

“I only heard it from others — I was a little worried about you, that’s all.”

“I’m fine, though… I still haven’t managed to marry myself off.”

“Then why would they pull you back from something so important…”

“There’s a perfectly legitimate reason, of course,” Shishi said. “Hezhong, you’re going to be in Chengdu for quite a while yet — just wait and see, and whenever you finally understand it, I’ll pull you into the Huaxia Army myself… Peace might last a few more years, but eventually there’s bound to be fighting again.”

At this, a genuinely serious expression crossed her face — but a moment later, she steered the conversation back toward lighter matters.

The sunlight remained warm and gentle, a soft breeze drifting in off the lake, and the two of them talked on happily. When Yu Hezhong asked about internal matters within the Huaxia Army, Shishi would occasionally answer in a teasing or gossipy tone; though she never directly addressed the nature of her relationship with Ning Yi, her words did indirectly confirm some of his suspicions — that over the past decade or so, the two of them had drifted close and then apart again, time and again, but had never managed to properly come together.

By midday, Shishi had the soldier Xiaoling bring over several dishes from the kitchen, and the two of them took lunch together there in the courtyard. Afterward, it seemed someone had come calling on her, and she saw Yu Hezhong out, promising to meet again soon.

Walking back through the streets of Chengdu, Yu Hezhong found that the veteran Huaxia Army soldiers along Reception Road no longer struck him as quite so terrifying — they felt, if anything, like they belonged to “his side” now. But on further reflection, he realized he still hadn’t seen anywhere near the true depths of the Huaxia Army’s inner workings. Just how much lay hidden beneath Shishi’s words? Had she truly been shunted aside, or was something else going on? Of course, this was only their first real conversation, so it was only natural things hadn’t been fully clarified. Given a few more meetings, he suspected, Shishi might no longer be quite so evasive — and even if she remained so, he was confident he could piece together the general shape of things himself.

As for the possibility Shishi had raised, of joining the Huaxia Army — for the moment, he wasn’t particularly drawn to it. That afternoon, meeting again with Yan Daolun at their agreed spot, he shared a good deal of the inside information Shishi had let slip about the Huaxia Army, and Yan Daolun’s eyes lit up at every point, nodding and exclaiming with admiration throughout. In truth, they’d already known quite a bit of it themselves, but what Shishi had let slip carried a coherence to it, filling in several key details they’d been unable to learn from outside sources.

Yu Hezhong, for his part, found himself satisfied as well. Joining an organization he still barely understood, relying on Shishi’s patronage — would his own abilities ever really stand out within the Huaxia Army? The odds of that, honestly, weren’t great. But so long as this connection to Shishi remained in place, he was certain to be taken seriously back under General Liu Guangshi — he knew how to bide his time and cultivate this relationship carefully.

The ceasefire might only last a few years, but if he made good use of that time, he could accumulate some family wealth and resources, build a network of connections — and even if the Huaxia Army eventually took control of the Central Plains, with Shishi able to speak on his behalf, he’d always have the option to clear his name and defect at the right moment. By then, with property and standing of his own, he might finally be able to speak with Shishi on truly equal terms.

On the other hand, if Yan Daolun or General Liu Guangshi genuinely came to value his connection to Shishi and Ning Yi, and wanted to use it as a foothold for further contact and dealings, he himself might very well end up kept in Chengdu as the designated intermediary and channel of communication between the two sides — in which case he might get to see Shishi, on equal footing, every single day.

He mulled over these thoughts for the entire afternoon, and by evening the whole picture had grown increasingly clear in his mind. That night, he tossed and turned in bed once more, unable to sleep.

As for Shishi, after seeing Yu Hezhong off, she met with a few more people before beginning to organize the notes for the following day’s meeting.

Cultural and propaganda work held paramount importance within the Huaxia Army — a fact that even Shishi herself hadn’t fully understood at first, only coming to grasp its overall shape after more than a decade of gradual adjustment.

Ning Yi’s thinking on this matter tended toward the extreme as well — classical written Chinese needed to be converted into vernacular language, and drama needed to be reformed to make it more accessible to ordinary people. Many plays that Shishi herself considered quite excellent, he dismissed as overly ornate, weighed down by too much elaborate singing, too slow-moving to be enjoyable. Even beautifully composed verses he considered needlessly inaccessible — though she had no idea, then, how he himself managed to compose such magnificent poetry.

At one point, Ning Yi had even discussed with her the idea of simplifying Chinese characters — for instance, doing away with the elaborate formal character for “one” (壹) in favor of the simplified common form (一). (Note: there was no formal concept of “traditional” versus “simplified” characters in ancient times, though some characters did have simplified variant forms in casual use — the standard form was called the “proper form,” the simplified variant the “common form.”) For characters that lacked an existing common form, he felt that any character with more than ten strokes ought to be simplified. This particular project, however, was eventually set aside for the time being, as Ning Yi came to consider that the territory under their control was still too limited to make such a reform practical to promote.

By this point, the promotion of vernacular writing and the popularization reform of drama had already achieved considerable results within the Huaxia Army’s cultural apparatus — though, given Ning Yi’s single-minded insistence on accessibility, the plays they produced might well have struck refined literary elites as rather “lowbrow.”

Still, with the southwestern campaign now winding down, Ning Yi had come to regard cultural work as a key focus of the post-war aftermath. For instance, surviving soldiers needed families of their own, and widows who had lost their husbands needed new partners — the Huaxia Army could certainly organize matchmaking events, but staging a warm, moving love story alongside such efforts might make the whole process go more smoothly. Similarly, while the army’s soldiers fought bravely, that hardly guaranteed they possessed the sort of character suited to starting a family — soldiers, after all, tended to carry more violent tendencies than most — and so Ning Yi had, early on, instructed the cultural front to use drama to construct one or two thoroughly reviled examples of domestic abusers that everyone would universally condemn. Doing so would make the work of the military tribunal and other related departments considerably easier.

And this time, with Chengdu adopting such an open stance toward welcoming visitors from every quarter — even permitting outside Confucian scholars to criticize the Huaxia Army in the newspapers and engage in open debate — the pressure this placed on the Huaxia Army was, in truth, considerable. At the same time, then, in rolling out plays, dramas, and storytelling scripts glorifying combat heroes, emphasis was also placed on highlighting the failings of the Wu Dynasty and the disgraceful conduct of the past decade or more, stirring up popular contempt for the old dynasty — so that no matter how the Confucian scholars might attack the Huaxia Army, so long as they made their allegiance clear, they would find themselves universally reviled among the common people. After all, the suffering of these past ten-odd years was something countless people had lived through firsthand.

Regarding this overly utilitarian emphasis on cultural policy prioritizing “entertainment value” above all else — a matter of genuine principle — Shishi and several of the more accomplished cultural staff within the Huaxia Army had, over the years, on more than one occasion raised objections with Ning Yi. In particular, the fact that a man capable of composing brilliant poetry off the cuff should be so devoted to what seemed like this misguided approach had, at times, left people rather bewildered. But regardless, within the Huaxia Army as it currently stood, this policy had proven genuinely effective — after all, the base of literate scholars remained small, while the soldiers, and the women and children of military families, were exactly the audience for whom this accessible, popular style of entertainment truly worked.

The meeting scheduled for the following day, June 15th, was to review the summary of previous work and forecast the likely trends of public opinion that might emerge in Chengdu going forward, along with discussing countermeasures and preparations that needed to be made in advance. For Shishi, this would be the first time she’d see Ning Yi again since they’d parted ways back in February.

Ning Yi had returned to Chengdu on the ninth; she had entered the city on the thirteenth — and though she’d been longing to see him, she hadn’t rushed to disturb him the moment she arrived the day before. Having been away from the center of power for several months, Shishi understood well enough that, once he was back, he’d inevitably be swamped in an endless string of meetings.

That afternoon, having finished preparing the meeting materials, she went to the dining hall at the reception compound for dinner that evening, where she finally tracked down an intelligence officer. “I need someone to help look into a man for me — name’s Yan Daolun, though I’m not sure if that’s his real name. Early forties, square face, round chin, a mole near the corner of his left ear, and his accent is…”

…

In the early hours of June 15th, heavy rain fell over Chengdu, accompanied by thunder and lightning. Ning Yi rose before dawn and sat by the window for a while, watching the storm.

Each flash of lightning set the towering, ancient trees outside dancing wildly in the wind and rain; beyond the lightning lay an unbroken darkness, the mighty city itself swallowed up within an even mightier expanse of heaven and earth.

…

By morning, the rain was still falling, a curtain of rain descending over the vast surface of the lake like a veil. Having finished breakfast, Shishi returned to change into her black civilian military uniform, tying her hair back into a practical ponytail. As she was heading out the door, Chen Xiaoxia, the female manager from the Zhu trading network in charge of cultural propaganda, waved to her. “Off to the meeting, then?”

Shishi nodded. “That’s right.”

…

As the hour was drawing toward its end, Shishi and the rest of the civilian staff arrived at the Mingde Hall meeting venue, roughly two li from the reception compound.

When Ning Yi entered, she was turned slightly to the side, speaking with a colleague beside her, her expression focused and intent on whatever they were discussing. Only after a moment did she turn to look toward him, her lips pressing together briefly before breaking into a calm, quiet smile.