Tao Yashu was playing the zither. She glanced at Chu Linlang and said in a detached tone: “Though Teacher Liao’s views are one-sided and some of his remarks could lead women astray, his classes are elegant and interesting, and the others enjoy them. There’s no need for me to destroy a man’s livelihood.”

The words Chu Linlang had used to probe the situation hadn’t been stated too plainly — yet Miss Tao had immediately seen through her intent. She was truly a woman of sharp, brilliant intelligence.

From this, Chu Linlang could see that Miss Tao’s character, though somewhat rigid and given to strict principles, was still relatively broad-minded and had no interest in the practice of speaking ill of others behind their backs.

Seeing what she needed to know, Chu Linlang knew when to stop. Now that she was sure Teacher Liao could keep this position, she casually went ahead and promoted the cosmetics she was selling on consignment.

Although she had no shop in the capital yet, the girls’ school was truly easy business. As long as she catered to the particular tastes of these classmates and stocked items that were novel and distinctive, things sold quickly.

Miss Tao was aware that this particular classmate combined studying with doing a little business on the side.

In the previous incident with Teacher Liao, when Tao Yashu had lost her composure, Chu Linlang had stepped in to mediate. And regarding the embarrassing matter of having pulled the teacher’s beard, she had kept it entirely to herself. Tao Yashu had formed an even more favorable impression of Chu Linlang for this.

So when Chu Linlang pushed these trinkets she normally wouldn’t use, Tao Yashu was quite accommodating, and had the maidservant beside her pay for the remaining boxes.

Just as Chu Linlang was about to leave, Tao Yashu thought for a moment and asked her whether she would like to come and take part in the annual Shengrong Gathering.

The Shengrong Gathering was generally held each year in late spring to early summer, when the scenery was at its most pleasant.

The great literary and artistic families of the capital took turns hosting it, and every noble matron and noted figure of renown would attend, displaying their skills in painting, calligraphy, poetry composition, and zither playing — with eminent monks of the age even delivering talks on Zen teachings.

An invitation to such a gathering was truly sought after and difficult to come by.

Chu Linlang had heard her noble classmates mention it long ago, but had never aspired to attend such an elite gathering.

Because it seemed that her employer had never even received an invitation.

Hearing Miss Tao ask in this way, Chu Linlang said with some embarrassment that she likely didn’t have the standing to attend such a gathering.

But Miss Tao smiled faintly: “This year it falls to my family to host — it’s being managed by my fourth aunt. I’ll give you an invitation letter. If you wish to attend, you may take it.”

When Chu Linlang tactfully indicated that she wasn’t really suited to such a refined and cultivated occasion, Tao Yashu replied in an offhand tone: “The people who attend are somewhat better-heeled than the students at the girls’ school. Are you certain you don’t want to go?”

Chu Linlang looked up at Miss Tao and found the corner of her mouth curved in a slightly mischievous smile — adding a touch of girlish liveliness to that habitually restrained face.

It was evident that Miss Tao had seen through her mercenary nature and knew she would never let such a networking opportunity pass her by.

Since that was the case, Chu Linlang saw no need to be coy — she simply smiled and thanked Miss Tao first.

As Chu Linlang turned gracefully and departed, the maidservant Tingxi said quietly to Tao Yashu: “Seventh Young Miss, why associate too closely with someone of her station? Surely you know — it is because of her employer, the Vice Minister, that our Duke has been displeased?”

Tao Yashu habitually wiped dust that wasn’t there from the zither strings and said in a composed voice: “We are within the academy, not the court — why should there be so much scheming and rivalry? Among classmates, one associates according to temperament and nothing else. And besides… don’t you find that her background is actually quite liberating? Fewer entanglements and restraints — she can do as she pleases.”

Word of Chu Shi’s divorce had once caused a stir all over the capital — Tao Yashu had naturally heard of it.

A merchant’s daughter of modest birth, to resolutely cast aside a hollow eight-year marriage, and start over from nothing — making her own living in an official household, earning her own money, even entering the girls’ school at the “advanced age” of twenty-four…

In Tao Yashu’s eyes, this Chu Shi had gone and done, one by one, every single thing that Tao Yashu herself had never dared to even imagine!

What kind of free-spirited, vivid life was that?

In two months’ time, she would enter the palace. After that, the sky she could look up at would be no larger than a sliver.

Before that happened, Tao Yashu dearly wished she could live one round of life with the same unguarded, authentic freedom as Chu Shi.

Perhaps it was this unutterable admiration, dwelling quietly within her, that made her a little kinder and drawn toward Chu Shi without quite realizing it.

Offering Chu Shi an invitation was, in truth, simply adding one person to this wearying gathering who she didn’t particularly dislike.

With that thought, Tao Yashu continued silently wiping the zither strings, then closed her eyes and began to play.

His Majesty was fond of music above all else. The household tutors had her practice these several compositions until they were perfect.

Her life would never be as turbulent and full of uncertainty as Chu Shi’s. Most likely she would simply proceed forward step by step as prescribed, walking all the way to the position she was meant to stand in — every word and action measured against a rigid rule, graceful and proper — until at last she became no more than a few lines in a history book, lavishly praised.

Though she had received the invitation, Chu Linlang wasn’t sure whether she should really attend.

She felt it would be more prudent to consult Situ Sheng on the matter.

Hearing Chu Linlang explain the situation, he looked up at her and said in an even tone: “Do you know who is organizing this gathering?”

Chu Linlang had done a little research and replied: “It seems to be Tao Yashu’s fourth aunt? I’ve heard she is a lay devotee who has kept her hair and taken up religious practice at home — her Buddhist name is ‘Wangchen.’ She’s a well-known lay believer in the capital, and has made connections with many eminent monks, reclusive scholars, and celebrated painters.”

After she said this, Chu Linlang noticed that the man across from her wore a visibly deepened expression of sardonic amusement.

She was skilled at reading people’s hearts. Thinking that Lord Situ had recently seemed to be on rather bad terms with Duke Tao, she quickly added: “It’s not as though I must go — I can simply return the invitation.”

“No need. The capital is only so large — a meeting is inevitable sooner or later. I have nothing pressing that day and will accompany you.”

In saying this, he seemed to be convincing himself as much as Linlang. In any case, Situ Sheng had changed his mind and decided to go to the gathering with Linlang.

When the day of the gathering arrived, Situ Sheng set aside his affairs as promised, dressed in casual clothes, and accompanied Chu Linlang — who had taken particular care with her appearance — to attend.

This year’s gathering was lower-key than previous ones, not taking over a large garden within the city but held instead in a privately built estate in the outskirts of the capital.

The host of this gathering was Duke Tao’s youngest daughter, Tao Huiru — and this garden was her own private residence.

Chu Linlang had done a little research beforehand among her classmates.

This fourth daughter’s history was one of considerable hardship. She had once been the most brilliantly beautiful and cherished jewel in the capital, and the youngest full sister of Empress Tao.

At that time, the Tao family and the great General Yang family had been considered families of long-standing friendship.

That surrendered general Yang Yi had also been, at the time, a worthy son of a military family. However, during his garrison posting in Lingnan, he had concealed his identity as a general’s son and entered the army as a commoner to train himself. The result was that he entered into a secret betrothal and married a woman from a local landlord family named Wen.

When he brought his wife back to the capital, he naturally drew the furious reproach of old General Yang. After all, when Yang Yi and Tao Huiru were still children, the two families had privately agreed to a childhood betrothal.

And then this reckless son had gone off to Lingnan and come home with a wife in tow — and to make matters worse, that Wen Shi was already with child by the time of their return. How was old General Yang to face the Tao family?

Fortunately, the two families had only reached a private understanding — the children had been thoughtless, and there was nothing to be done but let the matter go.

Yet this twist of earlier events did not prevent this fourth daughter of the Tao family from later becoming close friends and confidantes with Yang Yi’s wife, Wen Shi.

But fate had its own plans — later, after Wen Shi bore Yang Yi a sickly and weak son, she contracted an illness that could not be spoken of openly. The Wen family submitted a petition for divorce on the grounds of illness and took their daughter away from the Yang household. From that point on, Yang Yi was single again, while the son born to him and his former wife was taken away by old General Yang, who was stationed in the field for long stretches.

Not long afterward, Yang Yi entered into marriage again — taking Tao Huiru as his wife.

Yet shortly after the wedding, the Yang family members went one after another to the battlefield. And then came the event that shook the entire nation — the catastrophic defeat at Broken River.

The Tao family had received advance word, and even before news of Yang Yi’s defection to the enemy had spread into the capital, the Tao family’s Duke had compelled Tao Huiru to write a declaration of severance, formally cutting all marital ties with Yang Yi. Even the son she had borne Yang Yi in infancy — Yang Zan — had his surname changed, following the mother’s family name of Tao, was renamed Tao Zan, and was entered into the Tao family genealogy.

The Emperor, as a show of respect for his father-in-law Duke Tao’s family, spared, among the entire Yang family, only this mother and child.

The Tao family’s original intention had been for this daughter to remarry.

But Tao Huiru, having been the youngest and most indulged in the family, had never possessed the graceful, obedient temperament of her elder sister.

Perhaps it was the blow of her husband’s defection and the shame it brought — she cut her hair before her parents’ eyes and declared that she would henceforth live as a woman of religious devotion and would refuse to remarry until her dying breath.

In the end, it was the Empress, who was then still alive, who intervened — permitting her to practice her faith within the household, becoming a lay devotee who kept her hair, with the religious name Wangchen — “She Who Has Forgotten the Dust.”

Yet for a woman of an official household practicing religion, the austere simplicity of true religious life remained rather distant.

As for “forgetting the dust” — the tiresome dust had perhaps been forgotten, but the scorching red world of human affairs was impossible to relinquish.

Tao Huiru enjoyed socializing at gatherings like this to pass the time. And today’s gathering — centered on the recitation and discussion of Buddhist scriptures — had been organized by her.

Chu Linlang followed Situ Sheng down from the carriage and entered the garden, where she saw a middle-aged woman dressed in a pale grey silk Buddhist habit standing at the entrance with a serene smile, exchanging words with arriving guests.

Chu Linlang noticed the man beside her had gone perfectly still. She looked up and found that Situ Sheng’s eyes were fixed unblinkingly on this Tao aunt.

“What is it?” Chu Linlang asked in some puzzlement.

In an instant, Situ Sheng returned to his composed demeanor. “Nothing,” he said mildly.

When Situ Sheng walked with Chu Linlang to the entrance, the lay devotee Tao Huiru also looked up at Situ Sheng as he approached.

For a brief moment, a slightly dazed expression crossed Tao Huiru’s face. It was only when Situ Sheng presented his calling card that she came back to herself: “So you are the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Finance, Lord Situ!”

The guest list that the lay devotee had drawn up did not include this person — but at gatherings of this kind, those with invitations would always bring companions. Unless one harbored the hatred of a father’s murder or a wife’s abduction, there was no reason to drive anyone away.

Having paid his respects to the mistress of the garden, Situ Sheng led Chu Linlang inside.

Until he had walked away, Tao Huiru’s gaze had not shifted — she continued to stare steadily at Situ Sheng’s tall, retreating figure.

Her son Tao Zan came over and asked: “What is it? Does Mother know that Situ Sheng?”

Tao Huiru shook her head in uncertain bewilderment. How was she to explain to anyone that when she had laid eyes on that young man, for just one fleeting moment, he had overlapped entirely with someone unforgettable from her memory?

It wasn’t a resemblance in looks exactly — it was those eyes and that bearing, which carried a quality of indescribable familiarity…

But surely there were plenty of people in the world who looked alike. And besides, he was surnamed Situ — he had no connection whatsoever to that person!

After the gathering began, people of compatible interests gathered in small clusters. Some engaged in poetry dueling, some admired the flowers, but most sat in the garden amid the freshly blooming summer blossoms, savoring fine wine and conversing freely.

Chu Linlang encountered quite a few classmates here, including her small friend Guan Jinhe.

Guan Jinhe’s fiance, Wang Lianjiu, had also come to the gathering.

This was Chu Linlang’s first time laying eyes on the large “toad” Xie Youran had described.

Well — perhaps influenced by Xie Youran’s descriptions, she had imagined Third Prince Wang to be as hideous as could be.

So when Chu Linlang suddenly saw this round-cheeked, genially smiling young man, she was genuinely surprised at how pleasant-looking he was — nothing like the wretch of legend.

On this point, Guan Jinhe offered a sincere expression of gratitude to Chu Linlang: “The Third Prince has long suffered from skin blemishes — every time he burns the midnight oil studying, his face breaks out in pustules. But that wild chrysanthemum and snake grass soap you gave me last time really works well — you said it had anti-inflammatory properties, so I gave some to the Third Prince, and the blemishes on his face have gone down considerably. Do you have any more? I’d like to buy some…”

Just then, Third Prince Wang also spotted Guan Jinhe, and a bashful smile spread across his face — he wanted to steal a glance at his fiancee but was a little too embarrassed.

And Guan Jinhe, too, felt her heart flutter like a small rabbit, and quickly went to stand beside her mother, shyly going over to greet the Third Prince’s mother.

The two round-cheeked young people side by side really did look like a well-matched couple.

Chu Linlang heard people around her whispering that Third Prince Wang seemed to have slimmed down noticeably — perhaps with a happy occasion approaching, the groom-to-be wanted to refine his figure so he could fill out a new wedding robe properly!

One could see that although it was a match arranged by the parents and brokered by a matchmaker, these two young people were genuinely fond of each other.

Perhaps when one has a sweetheart, one naturally pays far more attention to one’s own appearance. And his official career of late had been going smoothly — word was he would be following his father into the Censorate.

Not a few of the ladies who had previously looked down on Third Prince Wang were now whispering that had Wang Lianjiu always carried himself so well, a man of his talent and family background would have had no shortage of excellent matches — the Guan family’s young miss might not have gotten a look in.

These words also reached the ears of Xie Youran. She had come to the gathering today with her mother.

Because her father Xie Sheng had once served under the great General Yang Xun, her mother had a close relationship with Tao Huiru, who had once been Yang Xun’s daughter-in-law. Perhaps because the Yang family had become an unspeakable subject, Tao Huiru had always maintained a warm relationship with the Xie family’s women — and it seemed this had become for her a way of holding on to the bonds of that past chapter of her life.

It was thus that the socially curtailed Xie Youran was able to appear at this gathering of distinguished figures after her marriage.

There are things one only comes to appreciate after losing them. As Xie Youran watched Wang Lianjiu — who had once been almost her own fiance — the subtle complexity of her feelings was truly impossible to put into words.

A man she had once dismissed was now the subject of everyone’s admiring words. That taste was like having vinegar poured straight down one’s throat.

And she was not doing well at all these days, and had begun to regret her choice.

What on earth had possessed her back then? To pass over the son of a Censor official with such bright prospects, only to rush off and settle for a newly promoted official who had just come up from some provincial post?

Even when Xie Youran had been boarded out to the countryside by her parents as a child, she had never known want — talk of hardship and poverty meant little to her.

But now, Second Mistress Xie, in the household of the husband she herself had chosen, was finally experiencing what it truly meant to have no money.

Just that very morning before going out, she had gotten into a fierce argument with Zhou Sui’an.

Because Zhou Sui’an had somehow scraped together a sum of money from somewhere and absolutely insisted on keeping Yuan’er enrolled in school.

While his mother Zhao Shi argued it was pointless — what was the use of all that reading for a girl who was just going to get married?

The mother and son had argued so ferociously that Zhao Shi let something slip in front of Xie Youran, and she finally learned the truth — that Yuan’er was not Linlang’s child at all, but Zhou Sui’an’s illegitimate daughter, conceived with a singing girl before his marriage.

This shattered the last surviving beautiful illusion about Zhou Sui’an that she had maintained — the idea that at least he had been faithful to his wife.

Though Zhou Sui’an had also had a dalliance with her after his marriage, in her mind that was because her own irresistible charm had caused him to lose his heart.

But Zhou Sui’an had apparently been consorting with singing girls even before his marriage, and had sired a child with one of these lowly women!

This… this was sheer moral depravity. Where was the warm, gentle, considerate husband of her imagination? Xie Youran finally came to her senses, suddenly realizing that the graceful, refined, unworldly Zhou Sui’an she had once admired was an image entirely constructed and polished by Chu Shi.

And as for the so-called comfortable, harmonious, daughter-cherishing family atmosphere of the Zhou household — it was nothing but the biggest joke she’d ever heard.

Thinking back now on all the flattering things she had said about him and the Zhou family in front of her own relatives — it had been an act of sheer stupidity!

Xie Youran felt she had been deceived through and through, and so had completely exploded, hurling a ferocious tongue-lashing at Zhou Sui’an before going to sob her grievances to her mother.

But what could Su Shi say? She was the one who had chosen this man, and it was she who had engineered the divorce between him and his wife — no one had ever pushed her to marry Zhou Sui’an!

Xie Youran was furious and frustrated, thinking that in just a few more days she would be giving birth, and yet the child would rank below the concubine’s children in order of precedence. The son she had borne — clearly the legitimate eldest son — was to be ranked third in the household behind an illegitimate daughter and a concubine’s child. She had grievances filling her chest with nowhere to go.

Just as she was seething in private, she looked up and spotted Chu Linlang following behind Situ Sheng.

This good-for-nothing hen that couldn’t lay eggs was doing better and better for herself — she could even attend a gathering like this now?

Had Chu Shi not been so skilled at keeping up the pretense — playing the picture of marital harmony and domestic bliss with Zhou Sui’an in front of everyone — how could she have been fooled by the Zhou family’s false front and landed herself in this irredeemable predicament?

Su Shi caught the hostile look in her daughter’s eyes and quickly intervened: “Don’t go picking fights with people for no reason. She has divorced the Zhou family — she has nothing to do with you anymore. Going out of your way to start trouble would only make people laugh.”

Xie Youran gave a cold snort: “She’s not bothering me, so I couldn’t be bothered to deal with her! One look at that scheming fox face and I’m afraid I’d come away smelling foul.”

With that, she turned and moved to another spot — and was confronted by the sight of Yixiu Junzhu standing right behind her, eyes also seemingly fixed on Chu Linlang.

Seeing Xie Youran look back, Yixiu shifted her gaze and smiled at Xie Youran, saying: “Lady Zhou, it has been a long time — the last time was at the donkey polo match, where your performance was truly admirable!”

Donkey polo referred to playing polo while riding a donkey. Because donkeys were not as tall as horses and their gait was less jostling, the sport was very popular with petite ladies from noble households.

The country-raised Xie Youran was a skilled donkey polo player, and thinking of Yixiu Junzhu’s remark, she couldn’t help but recall her carefree days as a pampered young lady before marriage — and felt a sudden pang of wistful sadness.

So the two women fell into conversation, and before long had discovered an unexpected sense of kindred spirit.

Yixiu seized the opportunity to steer the conversation toward Chu Shi and managed to gather quite a bit of useful information.

Dongxue caught a glimpse of the two women huddled together whispering, and nudged Chu Linlang to look: “Young mistress, a putrid fish has found its rotten shrimp — look at those two, they keep glancing over at you while they talk…”

Chu Linlang looked up as suggested, and indeed it was so. The two brainless women were gossiping about someone while staring right at that person — a rather obvious giveaway!

So she deliberately fixed her gaze on the two of them and beamed a sweet smile their way, whereupon both women simultaneously grew uncomfortable and looked away.

Chu Linlang found it quite amusing — between the two of them, their combined brainpower might not amount to much, and any attempt to make trouble together would certainly be an uphill struggle.

Having been stared at continuously, the gossip pair grew uneasy enough to finally drift apart.

Chu Linlang then turned her eyes to her employer. He had been called away earlier by Ministry of Finance colleagues and was currently holding court in a pavilion, exchanging pleasantries and sipping tea with a group of gentlemen.

Today was the Tao family’s gathering, and many of the Tao family’s relatives were present. They seemed not to have anticipated that Situ Sheng would dare come here and show his face so boldly, and had not approached.

The earlier land allocation dispute had eventually concluded with Duke Tao personally presenting himself before the Emperor to confess fault, taking responsibility for his failure as clan patriarch to supervise his clansmen’s encroachment activities.

The Emperor, knowing these old ministers had deep roots and could not all be alienated at once, had ultimately played the role of magnanimous ruler. He reached an agreement with Situ Sheng: everything prior to the “Tianxi” reign year would be forgiven and forgotten, while land enclosed into official allocations after that date would be forfeit and returned to the public coffers.

Such a reasonable negotiated settlement stabilized the court ministers and replenished the treasury, while naturally, all the “villain” credit went to Situ Sheng.

Yet after this affair, Situ Sheng — who had dared to stand against powerful noble clans and fight for the people’s land — won considerable support from many modest officials of humble origin.

Even many who had previously despised him as a sycophantic hardliner now harbored a measure of quiet respect.

This was not apparent in ordinary circumstances, but at such a gathering one could detect it somewhat.

Situ Sheng was surrounded by no shortage of distinguished and upright figures, and many of those luminaries had been introduced by Qi Gong’s son Qi Jingtang.

Watching her employer move through the gathering with ease, gradually shedding the label of solitary “ruthless official,” Chu Linlang felt genuinely pleased!

However, she noticed that the hostess of this gathering — the lay devotee — was standing at the diagonal corner of the pavilion, seemingly without intent, watching… her employer.

Given this lay devotee’s age, she could easily be Situ Sheng’s mother. And her station — she was half a religious person, after all — so it was probably not simple admiration of a handsome man’s face.

But she had been looking at Situ Sheng with those strange eyes — as though looking through him at some other person from the past.

Just then, someone called to her from behind — it was Tao Yashu, who had also arrived, beckoning her to come to the front fragrance pavilion to listen to the music.

Tao Yashu, knowing that Chu Linlang habitually sat in the back row at the girls’ school, pointed to a corner seat in the fragrance pavilion: “I had someone reserve a spot for you — how does it look?”

If it had been any other noble young lady, she might have felt slighted by such a corner placement. But Chu Linlang was actually delighted — in an unfamiliar and lively setting, having a quiet, undisturbed corner let her warm herself to the new surroundings at her own comfortable pace.

Tao Yashu had clearly noticed her habitual preference and had deliberately reserved this spot for her.