Situ Sheng slowly rolled his neck, a trace of subtle discomfort crossing his handsome face — clearly not fond of this line of conversation — and changed the subject: “What are we eating tonight?”

Chu Linlang laughed inwardly: all those previous times when this subject had come up, how had she not noticed how thoroughly guilt-ridden this person’s expression had been?

She had believed everything he said, trusting him without a shadow of doubt.

And she had been thoroughly taken in by a puppy whose teeth hadn’t even grown in yet, without a clue!

You wretched little scoundrel! How dare he deceive her!

That day, Chu Linlang’s habitual easygoing understanding had all but entirely vanished.

She held the half-embroidered clothing up against Situ Sheng’s body to measure it, then said with studied carelessness, raising one eyebrow: “Speaking of which, back in our hometown of Jiangkou there was this rakish young man. Still young, with a tender young wife and concubines at home he had no interest in — he insisted on pursuing women significantly older than himself. Wandering in front of this widow’s door, running up to flirt with that middle-aged beauty over there… I just couldn’t figure it out. What had gotten into him? Could he have been lacking in the affection of an older sister figure?”

This time, before Chu Linlang had even finished her barbed remarks, Situ Sheng had already clasped those long fingers that were measuring against him in his hand, his eyes glinting as he said: “What else did Tao Huiru say to you today?”

Chu Linlang had been acting so out of character all day, constantly circling back to the topic of age — Situ Sheng was no fool, and naturally he had taken notice. He had a vague inkling of the reason.

Hearing his question, the smile gradually faded from Chu Linlang’s face, and her eyes slowly widened as she asked coldly: “Yang Jiexing! I am asking you this one final time — how old are you this year?”

If he was not forthcoming, there were other means. His age as Yang Yi’s eldest son could surely be found out from the mouths of older residents in the capital; if he continued to stonewall, he would be simply tiresome about it.

Situ Sheng had always known when to read the room. Given the situation before him, if he kept up his stubborn front, he would end up acquiring the same reputation as the rakish young man from Jiangkou.

He admitted honestly: “Twenty-two. The year after next I will be twenty-three… It is not such a great difference from you…”

Chu Linlang had been probing with her words, and even before this had not entirely taken Tao Huiru’s account as gospel.

Yet who would have thought that this person in her bed had actually been playing tricks when it came to his age!

Now, thinking back carefully — when the two of them had been together in their childhood, he had clearly been so much shorter than her, thin and small. How could he possibly have been older than she was?

She was momentarily beside herself with fury. She flung the half-embroidered clothing hard against his chest and headed for the door.

But before she had taken two steps, Situ Sheng swept her up from behind, lifting her off the ground in his arms.

Chu Linlang, the more she thought about being deceived by a scoundrel whose teeth hadn’t grown in yet, the more furious she became, and she struck at his arm with force: “Why are you still clinging to me? Let go this instant! There are plenty of women out there — go and deceive another one!”

Situ Sheng said in a drawn-out tone: “Whom would you have me deceive? You and I have signed a marriage contract, with Old Qi as witness!”

Chu Linlang’s laughter burst out like a crackle of splitting coals, eyebrows arching high: “Oh, please! That marriage contract — the birth date and hour, name and place of origin recorded on it — none of it is real! My husband is twenty-five years old. How could it possibly be someone as young as you? That marriage contract… as far as I can see, it counts for absolutely nothing!”

Little did she know that her words spoken in anger had landed squarely on Situ Sheng’s most sensitive nerve.

He fixed his gaze on Linlang’s brilliant and beautiful face, his voice coming out halting and rough: “You are right. I have nothing to give you. Beyond a worthless sincere heart, I cannot even give you a proper marriage contract with my real name and birth date written upon it in full. But you… you cannot say you want nothing more to do with me…”

At these words, Situ Sheng — the capable minister who could hold his own in the court and speak with composure under pressure from all sides — found himself at a loss for words, feeling that whatever he said now, in Linlang’s eyes, he was nothing more than a deceptive fool of a boy who had tricked his way into marriage!

Such words, coming from any man, would mark him as an expert at enchanting women to their doom — no wonder Linlang was angry.

For from head to toe, whether his age or his origins, he had never in any regard been what Chu Linlang had in mind as an ideal companion.

In meeting him, Linlang — who should have been living in peaceful days — had been dragged into this whirlpool instead, with no knowing whether the road ahead held fortune or disaster.

Yet Linlang continued to think of him at every turn, going to great pains to bring Tao Huiru in check.

This woman like a sunflower straining toward the light — how could he, who lived in the dark shadows, deserve her?

If he were a man of integrity, he ought to have done as he had when he returned to Jiangkou all those years ago — walked quietly past the bright young girl like a stranger, and watched her fly away with someone else into a peaceful and settled life…

As he spoke these words, Situ Sheng could no longer conceal the desolation within him, nor that deeply buried sense of inadequacy. All the bitterness welled up and pressed against his eyes, and though he still held himself upright by force of will, his eyes reddening as he strained to hold it back — in the end, he could not contain it, and a single clear tear slid down his face.

Chu Linlang had originally felt she occupied ten parts of the rightful ground and had suffered one hundred parts of grievance.

But listening to Situ Sheng speak calmly in words so self-effacing they seemed unlike him, while his tears fell unhesitating across his resolute face — Chu Linlang felt a nameless ache clench her throat tight, and she wished she could swallow back every cutting word that had just tumbled out of her mouth!

What was she to do? Chu Linlang had always thought herself well-practiced at handling a man’s moments of vulnerability and weeping.

After all, her first husband had been something of a crybaby — whenever something went wrong, he was prone to throwing himself into her arms and weeping helplessly.

Yet this one — even without saying a single word, simply looking at her with those deep eyes, swimming in a hopeless abyss — Linlang felt as though a sharp blade had cleaved right through her soul, and nothing else in the world mattered at all.

So this was what it meant to bewitch and ruin a person’s heart — to strike with a tenderness that summoned a thousand parts of compassion…

Chu Linlang could hold out no longer. She reached out and covered his mouth with sudden force, stopping any more self-deprecating words from coming out, then with her long fingers carelessly wiped the tears from his cheek, and said with exasperated indignation: “You say you are young — do you have to go all the way and be utterly childish about it? If you keep crying, I will drag every one of your court colleagues here to see what the great and calculating Lord Situ gets up to in private!”

Situ Sheng reached out and pulled her — no longer resisting — tightly into his arms, and still said in a muffled voice against her ear: “Will you… still have me?”

Linlang said with a somewhat helpless sigh, patting his back: “Yes, yes, yes! Our Situ is this young and handsome — it must be merit I accumulated in a past life to have met such a tormenting creature as you — no, to have received a pillar of the nation with looks to rival Pan An and talent as vast as the sea!”

Yet her coaxing words seemed to be of limited effect.

For men, actions are always more direct and effective than words.

And so the Chu Niangzi who had been presiding over the case — in a dreamlike daze — found herself with her silk skirt and thin garments removed, taken up in the arms of a not-fully-grown, tearful, devastatingly handsome young man and carried into the depths of the bed…

After a good number of tender and tumultuous interludes, the man whose heart had been uneasy had at last confirmed — from top to bottom and inside out — that he possessed his precious and resplendent jewel fully and completely. Chu Linlang only felt that every bone in her body was at risk of being thoroughly gnawed apart and swallowed clean by the puppy’s insufficiently grown teeth!

When the storm had passed its interval, the lamps were already lit for the evening. She lay languidly against the man’s solid chest and asked softly: “Do you… truly not feel I am too old?”

Situ Sheng replied: “Chu Linlang, don’t go too far! Are you so old you could be my mother?”

Saying that, he reached out and pinched the tip of her nose, which still had beads of sweat upon it, then after some thought, with a trace of reluctance, recounted that episode from his younger days — when he had returned to Jiangkou and happened upon the newly married Chu Linlang.

Had Chu Linlang not once “bullied him for being young” to his face, he would not have carried that chip on his shoulder and been deliberately vague on this particular point.

This was the first time Chu Linlang had ever heard any of this, and she was left somewhat speechless, staring wide-eyed.

How was that possible? She had not met him at all during that time!

Although — if she had called him “little brother” back then, did that not mean he had been particularly young and boyish in appearance?

Goodness. A little boy barely that old, and he had already been learning to sulk and nurse a jealous grievance!

Wait — did this not mean that from a very young age, he had harbored a secret affection for her?

The more Chu Linlang turned it over, the more she marveled at how precociously single-minded this neighborhood young rascal had been. Her eyes full of gleaming mischief, she asked him just exactly when he had fallen in love with her.

Situ Sheng gave no answer — he simply looked at her from under lowered lashes with an expression somewhere between a smile and not, and showed no inclination to reply.

But Chu Linlang had caught the bit between her teeth, and recalled how after the two of them had met again, he had repeatedly come looking to make “trouble” for her every few days. No matter how one looked at it, he had always had a guilty conscience!

And at that time, she had still been another man’s wife! In which case, was he not…

Perhaps finding Chu Linlang too chatty, Situ Sheng simply pressed close again and sealed those still-pressing lips of hers with his own, proceeding to demonstrate through action — draining her of what little energy remained — and letting her work out for herself exactly when it was that he had fallen in love with her.

The spring warmth inside the room was rich and deep, while Guanqi and Dongxue, sitting in the kitchen waiting for their employers to rise for dinner, sipped their soup with helpless resignation.

Guanqi looked toward the window of that room in the courtyard — the light had gone out again — and could not stop his mouth from running: “By the looks of things, Chu Niangzi must not be angry anymore, right? Does the dog still need to be exchanged? I really did go to quite some trouble to pick out a good one!”

Dongxue found Guanqi’s mouth entirely too undisciplined, and could not help saying: “The young mistress told you to swap it, so swap it! Why all this pointless chatter!”

Having seen Dongxue lying pale and barely clinging to life on the sickbed, Guanqi now found a Dongxue who scolded him robustly and full of energy to be truly wonderful.

And so he agreed cheerfully, helping himself with delight to the large spare rib that Dongxue had placed in his bowl.

…

In the days that followed, everything was both as usual, and not quite as usual.

Having struck its full provocative posture like one baiting a fierce tiger, the entire court — civil and military officials alike — waited in anxious suspense for the Jing Kingdom’s response.

Just as Situ Sheng had predicted, upon the Jing Kingdom’s side seeing the vicious man’s corpse and reading Emperor Jinren’s personal letter — and with certain parties fanning the flames from within — the royal tent was nearly overturned by the fury of the outcry.

Commanders and soldiers at every level swore to denounce Great Jin and avenge their fallen commander, and the cries rose spiraling up to the sky.

Swept up in this tide of rage, even if the Khan Angu had no desire to go to war, he could not defy the will of his subordinates.

He had only just inherited the position of Khan, and was at a critical moment of urgently needing to consolidate morale — yet had been struck by a catastrophic grass blight disaster the likes of which came once in a century.

He had thought that with his good relations with Great Jin’s Crown Prince, the peace negotiations were as good as won, and all he needed to do was stockpile grain and fodder, recuperate his forces, and then launch a great southward invasion.

But who could have foreseen that the vicious man, that brute, would overplay his hand and go into the city on his own to harass women, attracting the surrounding soldiers and civilians who then beat him to death in the melee, leaving him to die in Great Jin’s capital city.

What had been a favorable, leading hand in the game had somehow, by nobody’s understanding, reversed itself into a situation from which there was no graceful escape.

The only course of action now was to leverage the Jing Kingdom’s advantage in surprise cavalry raids — strike a few skirmishing engagements against Great Jin’s border forces first, to intimidate those soft-bellied Jin people, appease the fury in the Jing Kingdom’s royal tent, gain the upper hand, and then resume the peace negotiations.

For in previous episodes of guerrilla raids on border villages and towns, the Jing Kingdom had returned victorious every time.

They had come to regard the border fortified towns as their own back garden. Whenever they felt like meat, they would go on an uninhibited slaughter.

But this time, the border defenses had been rotated. The troops now stationed there were an entirely different force inside and out — the Li Family army, who carried within them the soul of the old Yang Family army.

The Li Family army was fierce and valiant, yet due to their association with the former Yang Family, they had long been regarded with wariness by the Emperor, and over all these years he had only permitted them to suppress uprisings and bandit gangs across the realm, never entrusting them with significant military authority.

But now, the Li Family — father and son — had at last come their moment: heading north, holding heavy military command.

And so father and son both threw themselves into battle, laying out supply train decoys and fighting several brilliant encirclement-and-annihilation engagements.

After all, these were veteran commanders seasoned through many campaigns — their tricky and ruthless strategic maneuvers caught the arrogant Jing Kingdom cavalry completely off guard.

After several successive defeats, the Jing Kingdom’s small provocations sharply diminished.

It appeared that the Li Family army had struck them hard enough to truly hurt, making them cautious and preventing them from venturing out rashly. Moreover, signals had begun coming from the Jing Kingdom side — repeated exploratory inquiries suggesting interest in peace talks.

Dispatches from the border flew along the courier relay route, one after another, until they reached the capital.

When the battle reports arrived, the Emperor was in the council chamber — the officials of the Bureau of Military Affairs and several senior ministers had been keeping vigil at the Emperor’s side for a full night.

When the news came at last, both ruler and ministers alike slumped back in their chairs in relief and slowly exhaled a long breath.

It could not be helped — it had been far too long since Great Jin had faced the Jing Kingdom in such a direct and head-on manner. Emperor Jinren and the older ministers were truly filled with uncertainty, terrified that the front lines might collapse entirely, leaving no room for recovery.

Among the group of officials all slowly letting out their held breath, Situ Sheng stood apart from the rest.

Without waiting for the Emperor to finish his moment of elation, he stepped forward and presented a memorial: “Your Majesty, with the troops now reinforced in the north, the grain and supply trains must be dispatched ahead of time. However, this grain transport relies on the cooperation of each provincial prefecture. To guard against embezzlement of the grain supplies, I respectfully request that Your Majesty dispatch supervisory officials to oversee the grain transport.”

The Crown Prince was also present in the council chamber, and hearing this remark, found it irritating: “The grain supply escort on this occasion has been personally commissioned by Father the Emperor. You are now proposing that additional supervisory officials be sent over as well — what is the meaning of this?”

Situ Sheng looked at the Crown Prince, his tone carrying a slight chill: “Corruption in grain supplies has existed throughout history. Even with the Emperor’s clear-sightedness, it is difficult to guarantee that a greedy opportunist will not occasionally emerge. In ordinary times, that would be one thing. But at a critical moment when two nations are at war, those grain supplies that look insignificant when pilfered by corrupt officials — when gathered together — represent the very food that means life or death to the soldiers at the front. If the grain that reaches the border army falls short of even half the amount on the books, how can frontline soldiers fight with peace of mind in such circumstances!”

Situ Sheng’s tone was too forceful, and to openly embarrass the Crown Prince — the heir to the nation — in front of the Emperor and senior ministers was behavior too lacking in social consideration.

Duke Tao stepped forward at the appropriate moment to smooth things over: “The Commissioner of the Bureau of Military Affairs speaks with too much severity. His Highness the Crown Prince was only expressing concern for the efficiency of the grain supply transport, worried that overly complicated verification and accounting procedures might delay the delivery of grain supplies.”

Following the Duke’s words, other perceptive senior ministers also stepped in to smooth things over, and at last managed to give the Crown Prince sufficient face to step down.

However, in the end, Emperor Jinren adopted Situ Sheng’s recommendation.

He was right. Back during the Battle of the Losing River, it had also been due to untimely grain supplies that Yang Xun had been forced to take desperate measures, and had met with an ambush while attempting to procure grain along the route.

When he emerged from the palace, the Crown Prince’s heart was so full of stifled and suppressed fury that it was practically soaring to the heavens.

Duke Tao, seeing that the Crown Prince’s face still carried an air of displeasure, invited the Crown Prince to take tea at the Tao residence. Once inside the Duke’s study, the Crown Prince could not hold back and said to him indignantly: “This Situ Sheng is truly pushing his luck — looking to ride over my head and wield authority above me!”

Duke Tao consoled the Crown Prince: “He is currently in the full flush of the Emperor’s favor. Your Highness would do well not to enter into disputes with him in the Emperor’s presence.”

Hearing these words, the Crown Prince’s frustration deepened all the more: “The negotiations had been proceeding perfectly well — it was all that Li Chengyi’s doing, bringing about the vicious man’s death and ruining the peace talks. Those Li Family — father and son — were originally kept without significant military power. Now they have been given half the command of the troops, recruiting and expanding their forces. Is this not a direct encroachment on my military authority?”

Ever since Prince Tai had fallen from favor, the Crown Prince had been actively maneuvering to gain control of the military bureau, yet Emperor Jinren had persistently refused to relinquish authority.

And watching as Consort Jing fell from favor and the Fourth Prince was sent into exile, the Crown Prince had seen in this peace negotiation an opportunity to demonstrate his talent and capability to his father the Emperor.

Yet Situ Sheng and Li Chengyi had cut in uninvited — how could the Crown Prince not be stifled with frustration?

Duke Tao, however, felt the Crown Prince was being somewhat impetuous.

“Your Highness — as for one who is the nation’s Crown Prince, committing no errors is itself the greatest achievement! The day you truly understand this principle and internalize it, your conduct will surely become far smoother and easier.”

The Crown Prince had heard his maternal grandfather speak such moderate, middle-of-the-road reasoning more than enough times. But his urgent desire to prove himself to his father was something those on the outside could not understand.

Among all the imperial sons, he was the one who had begun forming clear memories earliest. He had witnessed with his own eyes how deeply his father doted on the infant born of the beloved Consort Fang — as though no one else was truly his own flesh and blood.

Then, when Consort Fang’s baby was lost and she herself fell ill and died, his father had laid the blame upon his mother, and liked him even less as a result.

If not for his mother’s distinguished family background and his own status as the legitimate firstborn son, the Emperor might well have preferred to pass the throne to that worthless and spineless Sixth Prince rather than to him.

From an early age he had received no warmth from his father — only a measure of barely concealed displeasure.

This was the deepest wound in the Crown Prince’s heart. He longed to prove to his father that he possessed the talent to stabilize and govern the nation — how could he ever be content to be merely a mediocre Crown Prince who maintained the status quo?

Most critical of all: he had only recently learned that his father had secretly commissioned Situ Sheng to investigate and seek out the whereabouts of the lost Third Prince.

Given Situ Sheng’s abilities, he would certainly pursue the matter relentlessly.

Although after all these years, his Third Brother had likely long since turned to a handful of yellow earth, buried in some unknown grave.

Yet his father still clung to this matter — and the Crown Prince’s heart never quite settled.

Just then, Duke Tao said: “There is another pressing matter to attend to. His Majesty is about to begin filling the positions in the inner palace once more, yet your cousin — one cannot tell whether she has been too strictly supervised by her family — is too rigid and rule-bound, showing no capacity for inspired improvisation!”

By now, among the several female officials who had entered the palace, a female official surnamed Xiao had already seized the opportunity of presenting the Emperor with wine to demonstrate her skill at massage therapy — and through the occasion of kneading the Emperor’s head had ascended the imperial bed and been conferred the title of Shu Yi. Subsequently, two daughters of military officials had also been taken into the inner palace by the Emperor.

Yet Tao Yashu, every single day, was faithfully and properly serving at the Empress Dowager’s side, never once seizing any opportunity to make herself visible in the Emperor’s presence.

Duke Tao was saying this in hope that the Crown Prince might find some channel within the inner palace to ease his cousin’s path and give her some guidance.

But hearing this, the Crown Prince actually inwardly breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

After having been verbally jabbed by Situ Sheng, he had secretly gone to examine the records of the Emperor’s daily activities — and had found that the Emperor was still capable of receiving women into his chambers, with the most recent instance of a pregnancy that had not been carried to term having occurred only two years prior!

At that time, a pregnancy could not be sustained within the palace because Consort Jing had monopolized the Emperor’s favor and feared the competition.

Now that the skilled hand of Consort Jing — who had been expert at inducing miscarriages — was gone from the palace, it was quite possible that his father the Emperor would in future be giving him some additional younger brothers.

In the past, the Crown Prince had welcomed the idea of his cousin entering the palace to become Empress.

After all, she was a Tao Family member — once in the palace, she would dedicate herself wholeheartedly to supporting him. But now, the Crown Prince found himself second-guessing things, and worrying unnecessarily.

He was wondering: if his cousin Tao Yashu were to win the Emperor’s favor, truly be established as Empress, and were to bear the Emperor a son — there was no guarantee she would not start scheming to advance her own son’s prospects.

And in that case, would his maternal grandfather still dedicate himself as wholeheartedly to planning on his behalf as he did now?

Just as Situ Sheng had said — the emperor of the former dynasty had managed to outlive two Crown Princes in succession and then installed an infant in swaddling clothes as the new heir to the throne!

And so the fact that Tao Yashu showed no talent for winning the Emperor’s affections suited the Crown Prince perfectly well.

Coming out of his maternal grandfather’s study, the Crown Prince passed through the garden and looked up to see his Fourth Aunt Tao Huiru snipping at flowers.

She saw the Crown Prince’s dejected and downcast look, and pulled him aside for a long conversation.

Tao Yashu’s mother, Lady Wu, was watching from the water pavilion nearby and could not help frowning as she said to her personal maidservant at her side: “Go and see what trouble she is stirring up this time.”

That maidservant immediately dispatched a young maid to go and find out — but before the girl had even descended from the water pavilion, the gathering had already broken up on the other side.

No wonder Lady Wu harbored such distaste for her fourth sister-in-law — it was truly because Tao Huiru had a habit of speaking ill of Tao Yashu behind her back, which had crossed Lady Wu’s line.

She had said to her husband long ago that, without good reason, Tao Huiru should not be permitted to keep coming back. She had her own residence — what was the point of constantly returning to the Tao household?

Yet every time her husband Tao Haisheng heard this, he would say with impatience: “She never remarried — she is still a daughter of the Tao household. What is wrong with returning to her own home? And you call yourself a sister-in-law, yet you have this sort of attitude?”

Lady Wu knew that Tao Haisheng had always been particularly protective of this sister of his, who was as good as a widow — his favoritism running some three miles wide.

In his eyes, his own sister could do no wrong — it was all this sister-in-law of his who was at fault.

Moreover, Lady Wu had been greatly troubled of late, with too much on her mind to spend her energy on Tao Huiru. Her daughter in the palace was giving her cause for concern — heedless of the Empress Dowager’s subtle hints, she showed not the slightest inclination to make herself pleasing in the Emperor’s presence.

As time stretched on, the Empress Dowager had taken notice, and had found Lady Wu to convey a hint.

She indicated that the Emperor was getting on in years, and in selecting an Empress, one needed a woman who truly knew how to be attentive and caring. Yashu was wonderful in every regard — it was just that she was too reserved and distant in manner, and would not even smile warmly at the Emperor.

At the Emperor’s age, one could hardly expect him to lie in bed clasping a block of ice, could one?

And so the Empress Dowager’s intention was to keep Yashu at her own side. As for the Emperor’s side — that could be set aside.

Word had it that the Empress Dowager had recently become quite fond of the newly titled Shu Yi from the Xiao family, and incidentally that Shu Yi’s family background was quite respectable — with the Emperor’s ongoing favor, her future prospects were limitless.

Turning to look at her own daughter, she saw nothing but steady, reliable service as a female official day after day — and now even the Empress Dowager was no longer supporting her!

Lady Wu was beside herself with anxiety upon hearing this, and felt like going into the palace to grab Yashu by the ear and give her a thorough scolding. Had the girl not considered that at the rank of a female official, serving out her time until she could leave the palace would mean emerging as an old maid? What good match could she possibly find then?

The Tao household had raised her as a future Empress. If not for the fact that the Emperor had persistently shown no intention to abdicate, and the Crown Prince’s position as heir was not yet stable enough to benefit from an inside supporter in the palace — Duke Tao would not have spoken of allowing Yashu to enter the palace.

Lady Wu could already envision it: if Tao Yashu failed to be selected as Empress and left the palace as an old maid — the mockery that would come from the ladies of other households would be relentless.

She had conducted herself with proper dignity her entire life. How could she possibly accept her own daughter ending up slinking out of the palace in disgrace?