Entering the city from here usually meant going to a nearby village to hire a carriage.

But seeing that the master showed no intention of turning back, it seemed he wanted to walk straight along the road back to the city. If that were the case, they wouldn’t arrive until the middle of the night…

Just then, the clatter of hoofbeats sounded in the distance. It was Chu Linlang, who had finished inspecting the official farmland and, having calculated the timing just right, had come here on purpose to pick up Situ Sheng so they could return together.

The sky was growing dark too early, and it was bitterly cold. Chu Linlang figured the master would surely want to get back to the city comfortably and soon.

Spotting the master by the roadside, Chu Linlang clutched a hand warmer and wore a smile as bright as spring blossoms, poking her head out from between the carriage curtains to call him in quickly to warm up.

Situ Sheng paused for a moment, then finally climbed into the carriage.

The interior was filled with the faint, elegant fragrance that clung to her, slowly dispersing the chill that had seeped into his entire body.

The woman chattering away about the trivial matters of the official farmland carried with her a vivid, earthly warmth — the warmth of everyday human life — and it slowly enveloped him.

Sudden warmth always caused a stinging discomfort for someone who had stood too long in the cold wind, and he was no different. He needed to be sure that what lay before him was not an illusion.

Linlang seemed to be in high spirits and said with great enthusiasm: “That farmhand at the official fields was really amusing — he actually asked me whether I wanted to buy up some land and register it under the official accounts. Does he even know what my master does for a living? He had the nerve to egg me on to do that kind of shady, underhanded dealing, and wasn’t even afraid of getting burned for it… Oh my…”

Before she could finish speaking, the man who had been silent and withdrawn suddenly reached out and pulled her, yanking her into his embrace in one swift motion. Then, as though clutching a lifesaving piece of driftwood, he held on with crushing force…

In truth, Chu Linlang had already noticed that Situ Sheng’s mood seemed very off.

When he had boarded the carriage earlier, Guanqi, following close behind, had desperately shot glances at Chu Linlang, silently warning her not to provoke the master.

That was why she had been rambling, trying to say something to divert Situ Sheng’s attention.

She knew that the person he had gone to pay respects to today was not his birth mother, and she had vaguely guessed that his life story must hold many unspeakable twists and turns.

And now, this man — whose grip felt as though it might snap her ribs — had a body that trembled slightly, beyond his control.

Had visiting the grave today… stirred up some deep sorrow?

The way Situ Sheng looked right now was somewhat like that time he had been splashed with the water used for washing cured fish — his whole body shaking violently in reaction.

The man in this moment was no longer the deeply guarded and composed Deputy Minister of his ordinary days. He seemed like a lone, wandering soul with nowhere to rest in all of heaven and earth, having seized a floating plank at random and refusing to let go — stubbornly refusing to let himself drown in the deep abyss of the River of Forgetting.

Under ordinary circumstances, if Situ Sheng had been so reckless and abrupt as to hold her like this, Linlang would surely have kicked up a fuss and refused to let it go.

But now, she opened her mouth intending to scold him. Her lips trembled a few times — and then she stopped struggling. Instead, she slowly reached out and soothingly stroked his broad back, as though coaxing her ward Yuan’er, giving his moment of weakness a graceful way to step back: “Too cold to bear it? Feeling any better? Relax a little — I’m not going anywhere, but you’re squeezing me so tight I can barely breathe…”

The man with his face buried in the crook of her neck still said nothing, but the arms clamped around her loosened ever so slightly, though he still refused to let go entirely.

Chu Linlang was quite self-aware about her role as a hand warmer. She stopped speaking and simply gave him a soothing, gentle pat on the back. The silence in the carriage grew somewhat awkward, and she didn’t know how to comfort him.

Accompanied by the rolling sound of the carriage wheels, Chu Linlang, as if absently passing the time, softly hummed a children’s folk tune from the Jiangkou region.

It was a song she had once taught him, back when he lived next door.

At the time, she had been frightened of the water ever since a fall had nearly drowned her, yet she had a craving for lotus seeds anyway. So she had tricked the boy from next door into sneaking out a small boat used by the lotus-picking workers, taking it out onto the lotus pond to pick lotus pods for her to eat.

Back then, she had sat on the bank, a large lotus leaf balanced on top of her head, her trouser legs rolled up, bare feet playfully kicking up splashes of water toward the little boat across the way.

She had hummed a tune at her leisure, even forcing him to sing along with her.

But the thin, scrawny troublemaker had been completely uncooperative — he simply shot her a glare, then came back with a lapful of lotus pods, sat down beside her, and quietly shelled the snow-white lotus seeds, piling them onto a lotus leaf for her to eat.

In those days the pond in August was full of dragonflies darting through the air, and cicadas shrilling in the trees. Willow branches drooped low; the air was hot and languid, wrapped in warm breezes that made one drowsy…

Chu Linlang’s voice was clear and melodious, the soft Jiangnan lilt of the water-country dialect sweet and honeyed to the ear.

By the time she finished her song, the person in her arms seemed to have released the tension wound tight in his nerves as well. His eyes were tightly shut, his face etched with exhaustion — it was unclear whether he had fallen asleep.

Linlang adjusted her position slightly, leaning against the wall of the carriage so he could rest his head on her shoulder for a brief nap along the way.

She turned her head a little and looked at the man whose brow was still knitted even now. She let out a quiet sigh, closed her own eyes, and began to sort through the tangled threads in her heart.

She was thinking that perhaps… she should leave the Deputy Minister’s residence sooner rather than later.

Because Linlang had discovered, to her own surprise, that she felt sympathy for him. Yet she had always been one of thin fortune herself — she had no extra warmth to spare for others.

A woman who had reached her circumstances in life had to put her own gains and losses first in every single step she took.

He was too complicated. He was not a man she could afford to let herself become entangled with.

Childhood rivals — after a brief reunion, carrying with them a little of the unintentional warmth they had given each other — and then going their separate ways, each wishing the other well, forgetting one another in the vast rivers and lakes of the world. That was the best possible ending…

Thinking this far, she grew too lazy to think any further. She simply closed her eyes and, lulled by the swaying and jolting of the carriage, fell into a muddled half-sleep.

But she truly had a short memory — she had gone and worn that hair pin again.

The result was that when the carriage returned to the Jicui Lane and Guanqi lifted the carriage curtain, he discovered that his master’s hair bun had gotten tangled up with Chu Niangzi’s hairpin once again.

His master, to his credit, remained calm, simply tilting his neck to one side at an angle, waiting for the woman to untangle his hair.

The woman, on the other hand, was far too noisy — she actually dared to complain that the master had dozed off and accidentally knocked his head over, getting it caught on her hairpin.

Guanqi listened with his heart nearly leaping out of his chest, desperately shooting glances at Chu Linlang.

The master was in a very unstable state right now. Given how much Chu Linlang was going on like this, he might very well get a beating!

But what alarmed Guanqi even more was that the master remained perfectly quiet — he didn’t argue back against Chu Niangzi’s words at all. And when Chu Niangzi told him to lower his head a little, he actually obliged without a fuss…

Good heavens — had the master really fallen so low, so utterly devoid of the will to live, that he was now at the mercy of a woman?

Once the hair was finally untangled after much effort, this whole farce seemed to have genuinely dispersed the dark cloud hanging over the master.

Guanqi noticed that the master was actually able to act as though nothing had happened — his manner calm and composed — as he washed his hands alongside Chu Niangzi, chatted idly about the trivial affairs of the official farmland, and then, surrounded by the rising steam of cooking food, ate his meal with great appetite.

It was as though today were just an ordinary day like any other, with nothing out of the ordinary about it at all.

Guanqi secretly bit his own tongue and found that it hurt quite a bit, which meant he wasn’t dreaming after all.

He sucked his tongue and slowly ate a piece of meat. He suddenly felt that having this noisy, bustling woman in the residence wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

With her here, even the most worn-down and dilapidated of courtyards would fill with the tangible, genuine warmth of everyday human life.

And his master no longer resembled a living corpse, trapped inside a desolate and gloomy tomb, clawing endlessly without ever being able to climb out…

That evening after dinner, Guanqi quietly asked the master in the study what they should do next.

Situ Sheng replied with a composed expression: “My rank is low and my standing is light — I am truly of little use. That being so, it is natural that I must work hard to advance. When I am better off, her days on the other side will be better too.”

With that, he picked up his brush and wrote with focused intensity, composing a memorial to the throne.

Guanqi watched from the side and felt that the master seemed to have spent several days on this memorial already. And it was such a thick stack — it didn’t conform to the standard format, and would surely be held up and rejected by the Office of Memorials, wouldn’t it?

This was the kind of mistake only an official new to the bureaucracy would make. Had the master forgotten?

But then, when it came to the master’s actions, there was never any need for others to say a word. Guanqi refilled the tea, then quietly withdrew, leaving behind a room of silence.

Several days later, a weighty memorial titled “Equalizing Official Farmland” was submitted by the Director of the Imperial Academy, Qi Gong, on behalf of another. It bypassed the Office of Memorials — which reviewed and filtered all officials’ submissions — and was placed directly on the table before His Majesty.

This memorial had been drafted by Situ Sheng, the Deputy Minister of the Court of Judicial Review.

In the memorial, he stated that roughly a year ago, while handling a civil land dispute case, he had inadvertently discovered that the official farmlands allocated to officials at court were distributed unequally — not strictly in accordance with rank and grade.

His curiosity piqued, he had investigated further, and found that the late Emperor, in his benevolence, had decreed that the taxes levied on land registered under an official’s name were considerably lower than those on ordinary farmland.

As a result, certain corrupt officials had seized the opportunity to aggressively acquire civilian farmland, falsely reporting it as official farmland to reduce their tax burden — leaving the common people and tenant farmers suffering terribly.

Furthermore, this meant that law-abiding officials, compared to corrupt ones, had unequal farmland allotments and inconsistent incomes. If left to continue like this, how could officials be incentivized toward clean and honest governance? Would this not fling open the floodgates to corruption? This truly betrayed the original intent behind the ancestors’ benevolent institution of official farmland.

Most critically, if vast amounts of farmland continued to go unreported for taxation, it would drain the imperial treasury and genuinely undermine the very foundations of the state.

Although he was not an official of the Ministry of Finance, he had grown increasingly alarmed the further he investigated. Taking the bold step of overstepping his authority, he had composed this memorial so that His Majesty might better understand the conditions of the people and root out entrenched abuses, thereby replenishing the imperial treasury.

The Emperor read through Situ Sheng’s memorial, noting the detailed figures it cited regarding officials and their relatives’ land acquisitions. This was clearly no hasty fabrication — it appeared credible, and the more His Majesty read, the more alarmed he grew.

Because this memorial struck directly at the very heart of the Yongqing Emperor’s deepest concerns.

The imperial treasury was empty, yet along the northern border, there were wolves and tigers watching with hungry eyes. The current proposal from the Jing Kingdom for trade at the border was not born of any need on the part of the Jin dynasty — rather, it was that nation of wolves and tigers who urgently needed iron goods, salt, and grain from within the pass.

Once the border markets were opened, if unscrupulous individuals were to seize the chance to illegally sell iron goods, it could very well amount to feeding a tiger that would one day turn on them.

And the demands put forward by the Jing Kingdom were even more outrageous. Not only did they insist on opening the markets, they also demanded that the Jin dynasty levy no taxes on the transactions, requiring only that goods be sold at low prices. If he were to agree to these terms, the Yongqing Emperor felt, it would truly be like suffering the humiliation of the Fushu defeat all over again. How could he face his ancestors?

But if he refused, and the Jing Kingdom tore away the pretense of peace and launched a war — setting aside the fact that the court’s veteran generals had retired and there were no capable commanders to deploy — the current state of the empty imperial treasury alone would not be enough to sustain the massive military expenditures such a war would require.

The Yongqing Emperor had been in a foul mood for the past several days over the matter of funds. But Situ Sheng’s proposal to equalize official farmland, if properly implemented, was a genuinely practical and beneficial way to generate revenue for the nation and the people.

His Majesty raised his eyes once more and looked carefully at this young official.

He was not very old — according to the official registry, he was no more than twenty-five years of age, right at the stage where an official ought to be carefully tempering himself and developing his abilities. Yet those eyes of his truly radiated a steadiness that far surpassed his years.

And so, when the notorious harsh official Situ Sheng moved into the area, every household in the lane sent someone out to exchange pleasantries with Situ’s estate manager, while also trying to probe for information — asking what stroke of luck Situ Sheng had stumbled upon that he had been both promoted and rewarded with a residence.

Moved by his boldness and courage, the Emperor at last simply said lightly: “Good.”

Situ Sheng at this point only bore the name of a harsh official. But once he became the target of everyone’s resentment, it was very possible he would not even be able to keep his position.

And lately, having thought it through again and again, she still felt it was not suitable for her to remain in his residence for much longer.

In the past, although His Majesty had recognized that Situ Sheng possessed a certain talent, it was the kind of shrewd cunning that played tricks and schemes. He was simply a man who had been excluded by his superiors and colleagues, grown weary of the endless grind of paperwork and case files, and decided to make life uncomfortable for every official in the entire capital.

After the move, with the residence being larger, it would no longer be appropriate for the master of the household to sleep in the study. Chu Linlang had arranged a proper master’s bedroom for Situ Sheng, and when she was making up the bed — with Situ Sheng also present — she took the opportunity to mention her own thoughts.

Of course there was a deeper reason as well: it was also possible that Situ Sheng had simply found his official residence too small and wanted to gain a higher rank, earn a larger salary, and move into a bigger residence — one suitable for him, still a bachelor, to accommodate beautiful concubines and charming ladies.

She had already discussed it with Xia Qingyun. Over the next few days he would be going to the surrounding prefectures and counties to deliver salt and purchase goods. When he returned to the capital after some time, she wanted to leave the capital together with him.

How could Chu Linlang not be delighted? It was a gift from His Majesty — free of charge! So she wouldn’t have to trouble herself over whether or not to lend Situ Sheng money!

This path was too difficult, too thorny — narrow, with deep abysses on either side. It was not the kind of road a scheming and calculating person would choose. Yet he had gone ahead and charged straight into the difficulty!

After Situ Sheng heard her tentative question, he simply smiled: “When I presented my case to His Majesty, the Emperor noticed the dark circles under my eyes and asked whether I was sleeping poorly. I told him that the place I was currently living was too noisy, that I couldn’t sleep well at night. His Majesty, in his benevolence, rewarded me with this residence… What’s this, you don’t like it?”

This memorial alone was enough to send shockwaves through half the court — like a single stone stirring a thousand waves of filth!

But now, looking at the memorial Situ Sheng had submitted — the writing brilliant, the phrasing sharp and incisive — His Majesty could not help but be moved.

On what grounds? A person of no virtue and no talent had managed to be promoted repeatedly within less than two years!

Before long, the errand was done, and Steward Chu said farewell with a smile and a bow to those present, then with a resounding snap, pulled the gate firmly shut.

But this position had clearly been hinted at by the head master as being reserved for him!

This was also why he was willing to take the risk and submit this young man’s memorial above the usual channels.

The woman making the bed felt a bit irritated. She tossed down the bed sheet in her hands, raised one eyebrow halfway, and said: “By that logic, I shouldn’t be staying in your courtyard either. You haven’t even taken a wife yet — aren’t you worried people will say you’ve hired a young female estate manager and it’s damaging your reputation?”

This left Zhou Sui’an, who had long been without any hope of promotion, utterly at a loss! He even suspected that the vacancy the head master had supposedly been preparing to give him was precisely the position that Situ Sheng had now taken.

For this move, Linlang had hired a large number of helpers, so she didn’t need to do much herself — she just needed to keep an eye on things. She had plenty of leisure time and chatted casually with the estate managers from the neighboring households.

A harsh official who cracked whips and interrogated criminals at the Court of Judicial Review — how could he be suited to such meticulous work? One could only imagine that his colleagues at the Ministry of Finance would not treat this man who had fallen from the sky with kindness either.

After saying this, she turned to look at him when she heard no reply from Situ Sheng.

This residence was worlds apart from the old one. Even the Zhou family’s residence on Wooden Fish Stone Lane couldn’t begin to compare.

The Yongqing Emperor looked at this young man who had ruined his official reputation at such a tender age, his emotions complex and mingled: so this young fellow understood it all perfectly — and yet still persisted so stubbornly.

The late Emperor had undertaken great construction works, building residences in the Hening Lane. Only those personally selected by the imperial family were permitted to live in this lane.

He was standing by the newly moved-in bookshelf, holding a stack of books in one hand, yet his eyes were fixed directly on her — as though Linlang had just said something utterly treasonous. There was an indefinable sense of pressure in that gaze.

At that moment, having listened to this young man speak with such conviction and passion, Qi Gong suddenly felt that he had truly grown old. How had he failed to notice, back when this man was a candidate at the examinations, that hidden among them was a talent with such grand ambitions?

Most notably, Steward Cheng — his superior who had given him no end of hardship — was unusually warm and gracious, bidding him farewell with great enthusiasm.

Throughout history, there had always been those without a scholar’s sense of honor who scrambled over one another to take on such a notorious role.

What Situ Sheng had said was actually precisely what Chu Linlang had been worrying about all along — which was why she had kept hesitating and hadn’t yet agreed.

But Chu Linlang tended to ask more questions than she answered. After chatting and probing with a broad smile for a while, she had managed to find out a fair amount about the masters of the neighboring residences.

Although His Majesty had posed the question this way, he also knew that Situ Sheng was not uninformed. Otherwise, why would he have entrusted the matter to Qi Gong, going around the Office of Memorials that filtered all memorials?

Situ Sheng replied deferentially: “The imperial will is difficult to fathom. We shall wait and see.”

Could it be that he had recently cracked some major case and had made a particularly clean job of cutting off heads?

And now, just as Situ Sheng had said, the imperial will was difficult to fathom. What remained unknown was whether His Majesty would also, as he had done, come to recognize the unusual talent concealed within this young man.

Whether it was the rockery in the back garden, the stone-paved paths, or the covered walkways and ponds — everywhere one looked, one could appreciate the ingenious craftsmanship of skilled artisans.

No wonder that in the days prior, Qi Gong of the Imperial Academy had praised Situ Sheng to his face, saying that though Situ Sheng had only the title of third-place graduate in the imperial examinations, after being tempered under His Majesty’s hand, he possessed the governing talent of a top-ranked scholar. And now, Qi Gong — who never involved himself in other people’s affairs — had gone so far as to submit this young man’s memorial on his behalf.

But His Majesty still gave nothing away. He simply pointed to the memorial and said: “Do you know what it is you have written? Once all the officials learn that this proposal originated from you, you will have no place to stand at court. Pull one thread and the whole garment unravels — by then, I’m afraid even I will not be able to protect you.”

Chu Linlang spoke as she briskly made the bed: “True enough — staying here all the time and constantly causing trouble for you isn’t good either. I’ll travel with the salt boats — wandering from one end of the sky to the other with no fixed abode — and my father won’t be able to track me down.”

Now that the residence was larger, more servants would need to be hired, and she, as the nominally appointed estate manager, had far more things to manage.

But hearing him put it that way made it sound as though she was the one going around ensnaring men, ruining their chances of getting married and having children.

That sixth son — who had put on a show of cleverness right in front of the old Emperor’s face — the old Emperor knew perfectly well who had instigated that. He had also heard the follow-up: that after Situ Sheng came to power, he and his own sixth son had gone their separate ways.

Situ Sheng was arranging small clay figures on the shelf when he heard Chu Linlang’s suggestion. He turned his head to look at her: “What’s this? You want to leave?”

Thinking this over, the Yongqing Emperor had a vague suspicion that he had made a poor decision — had he misused a truly exceptional talent?

But it was only after getting to know this young man more closely that Qi Gong came to understand the true meaning behind his support for opening trade at the northern border.

And so, once things were somewhat settled, Chu Linlang came to discuss with Situ Sheng whether he would like to officially hire a full-time estate manager.

As for herself, she suggested she be given the title of manager of the outer courtyard.

There was one obscure unofficial history that took a different approach entirely, suggesting that Situ Sheng — who at the time held only the rank of fifth-rank Deputy Minister — may not have been as morally upright as later generations assumed.

Of course, if a blade were to wear out, it could simply be discarded and replaced with a new one.

This was such a grand household that Chu Linlang felt she was having some trouble managing it on someone else’s behalf.

With the Jin dynasty’s treasury currently depleted, and after the Battle of Fushu having left them without a capable general like the late General Yang, how could they hold back wolves and tigers simply by sealing off the border?

This was clear proof that this man had truly earned the appreciation of the sharp-eyed Qi Gong.

After saying these words, she finished making the bed and was about to turn away — only to find that Situ Sheng had appeared silently behind her, at some unknown moment.

Standing before the dragon throne, the tall young man, upon hearing His Majesty’s words, turned his face slightly sideways from behind the white jade ceremonial tablet. His eyes beneath his thick brows blazed like a sharpened arrow, keen and unrestrained. Word by deliberate word, he said: “If I can serve and support Your Majesty in stabilizing the rivers and mountains, bringing peace and prosperity to the nation and its people — what does a lone minister have to fear?”

Of course, for this kind of nonsense found in unofficial histories, most scholars and men of letters would snort in contempt, roll up the book, and toss it into the stove.

When Zhou Sui’an heard the news of Situ Sheng being reassigned to the Ministry of Finance, he couldn’t eat for an entire day.

Qi Gong nodded, his expression complex and mixed, as he looked at the young man before him.

That Situ Sheng could be promoted and receive imperial favor — Chu Linlang was naturally pleased. But such a weighty reward made her wonder just what it was that had allowed Situ Sheng to advance so quickly.

If one wished to forestall trouble before it arose, what mattered most was for the Jin dynasty to have broad and open “channels” capable of directing the surging current. And these channels were national power and military strength.

With this in mind, Lord Zhou felt slightly better, though he kept his grievances bottled up, waiting to see Situ Sheng make a fool of himself.

It was said that the craftsmen who had built these residences in those days had been specially dispatched from the Ministry of Works — they had truly put a great deal of care and thought into every detail.

He had originally harbored resentment over the fact that Situ Sheng outranked him by a full grade. Yet now, within less than a year, this Situ Sheng had entered the Ministry of Finance as well — as a full fourth-rank Deputy Minister, no less.

The Emperor’s meaning was clear: he was telling Situ Sheng that a young man should not only think about standing out and making a name for himself, but should also consider the consequences of touching the livelihoods of all the officials at court.

The location of the residence was ideal as well, situated in the Hening Lane where princes, nobles, generals, and ministers all gathered.

Furthermore, the newly promoted fourth-rank official Lord Situ had not rushed to take up his new post, because he was busy moving.

On his seventieth birthday, he had once compared the chaos of the Jing Kingdom to a flooding river. If one merely plugged and blocked it like Gun had done in ancient times, one would only treat the symptoms without addressing the root cause.

The more he listened, the more excited he became. He suddenly felt that the long-stagnant court perhaps needed a young man like this to raise his voice and stir awake those elder ministers who had been resting on their laurels.

Initially, over the question of whether or not to open border trade in the north, Qi Gong and Situ Sheng had come into conflict and friction.

The day Situ Sheng packed his things and left the Court of Judicial Review, the faces of his colleagues wore mixed expressions as they speculated how Situ Sheng had managed to be promoted again, skipping ranks, with no notable achievements to his name.

Seeing Linlang turn her head toward him, Situ Sheng was silent for a moment, then finally said in a softened tone: “Xia Qingyun is getting on in years too — within the next couple of years, he’ll probably be getting married and having children. If you follow him away, it will likely be quite inconvenient for him in many ways. You should think about him too. As for the duties here at the residence, if you find them exhausting, just hire a few deputy managers.”

During these days, he had invited Situ Sheng to play chess, and had also heard many of his ideas about reforming entrenched abuses.

She was startled. Her body fell back involuntarily, and her footing gave way — she toppled halfway onto the bed.

Qi Gong was waiting for him outside the palace gate. When he saw him come out, he asked: “Did it go smoothly?”

Within a few days, His Majesty issued an imperial decree, transferring Situ Sheng out of the Court of Judicial Review and into one of the most important central departments in the court — the Ministry of Finance.

Later histories wrote about this exchange between sovereign and minister in the imperial study with great emphasis, using elaborate brush strokes to describe it. But most accounts relied on oblique phrasing and allusion, analyzing the pros and cons of the political situation of the time.

When she settled back down and lay there, she found Situ Sheng standing at the bedside, his tall frame blocking out much of the light, looking down at her with a gaze that carried an unmistakably suggestive intimacy…

These were the kind of ruthless schemers, skilled at self-promotion, who were well suited to entering the Court of Judicial Review and serving as blades of imperial power and law — wielding the methods of harsh officials and scoundrels to suppress and intimidate those treacherous ministers who harbored ill intentions.

This new residence had been personally bestowed upon him by His Majesty — from now on, he would never have to pay rent.

—