Chu Linlang looked at Tao Yashu’s eyes, reddened from weeping, and couldn’t help a rueful smile: “Of all things, at a time like this — why are you asking about him?”

But even as she said it, Chu Linlang suddenly understood. In that “you all” — the friends Tao Yashu had just said she could meet whenever she wished — perhaps “Liao Jingxuan” was also included.

Yet that slovenly, unkempt tutor, for all his easygoing and forthright outward manner, was in truth the least emotionally available of men.

She had heard Situ Sheng mention that the beard Liao Jingxuan had been growing was the result of a vow he had made to his father — he would not shave it until the Yang Family Army’s battle flags were planted in the Jing Kingdom’s royal encampment.

It was precisely because he carried such an unfinished mission in his heart that he had spent years stationed in the north, with no thought of settling down.

Tao Yashu, of all the men she could have developed feelings for, had gone and fallen for one many years her senior, a man whose whole heart was given over to home and country.

The fear was that if Liao Jingxuan ever clearly perceived the depth of Tao Yashu’s feelings for him, he would be frightened enough to pack his bags overnight and flee northward once again.

But when Tao Yashu saw Chu Linlang nod, her face eased into an expression of quiet, relieved happiness, and she asked in a low voice: “Then… is he staying in his usual place now that he’s back?”

Only after Chu Linlang nodded again did Tao Yashu slowly exhale and relax, saying softly: “My wedding is imminent, and I have no wish to bring any of the household servants with me. The maids who were close to me before have long since married. The ones still about are all my mother’s eyes and ears — there’s no reason, now that I am marrying out, that I should let my mother go on watching my every move. I have some silver here. I must trouble you to help me select and purchase a few trustworthy maids with tight lips, to serve as my bridal attendants and come with me into the Third Prince’s Manor.”

A wedding ceremony without a groom was naturally conducted with minimal pomp. Given that the third prince was publicly said to be in poor health, this marriage of hers was in the manner of a folk custom — a wedding intended to ward off ill fortune. She would most likely be performing the wedding ceremony embracing a rooster in the groom’s stead, as in a ghostly marriage.

As long as she endured this one ordeal with gritted teeth, and afterward kept everything concerning the third prince strictly to herself before the outside world — this was, in its own peculiar way, another form of obtaining “freedom.”

That manor would be empty, yet she would no longer need to cater to anyone’s wishes, and could simply live for herself.

This had been the reason why, when she heard that His Majesty intended to use her to “avert misfortune,” she had nevertheless agreed without hesitation.

And so Tao Yashu, making plans for her life ahead, wished to bring reliable people with her when she went.

Once a daughter is married out, she is like water poured from a vessel — from that point forward, her affairs would no longer be for her mother to direct and control.

Chu Linlang had assumed Tao Yashu would simply submit to everything in resigned endurance — yet it turned out she had her own thinking and her own plans.

Everyone had their own will. As a friend, it was not Chu Linlang’s place to push someone into living life entirely according to her own ideas. So long as Tao Yashu kept her spirits up and did not sink into self-pity and bitter brooding, Chu Linlang could rest easier.

As for selecting the bridal maids — she naturally said yes.

When Linlang finally took her leave of Tao Yashu with some reluctance and stepped out of the courtyard, she found Dongxue and Xia He standing at the empty courtyard gate with sharp, watchful eyes.

Seeing Chu Linlang and Miss Tao emerge, Dongxue immediately walked over and pressed close to Chu Linlang’s ear, saying in a low voice: “Just now, Tao Huiru’s personal maidservant came sneaking into this courtyard. At the time, Xia He and I were sitting under the grape trellis, and she didn’t see us. She crept furtively toward the courtyard, clearly intending to eavesdrop at the window. Luckily I stood up and startled her. She claimed she’d come to borrow a flower stand from Miss Tao’s courtyard, but she didn’t take anything — she just turned around and left.”

Hearing this, Tao Yashu and Chu Linlang exchanged a glance. Both understood why Tao Huiru’s maidservant had appeared here.

In Chu Linlang’s mind, there rose again the image from that tea gathering — the moment when Tao Huiru, upon hearing others praise how Tao Yashu was about to receive the Emperor’s favor, had let slip that glaring contemptuous smile.

Could it be that… even then, Tao Huiru had already guessed that Tao Yashu would ultimately fail to leap the dragon gate and lose her chance at becoming a consort?

Chu Linlang’s thoughts drifted again to the sudden cracking of the sacred water cistern at the imperial temple, and the strange omen of frogs croaking throughout the grounds.

It was said that the pronouncement that Tao Yashu’s birth characters would benefit the third prince had come from the imperial temple’s newly appointed vice presiding monk, Master Lingxi, who had made the calculation.

All these threads twisted together in her mind. She had not yet sorted them through clearly, and she was wondering — was all of this pure coincidence, or had it been deliberately arranged by someone?

If deliberately arranged — was it simply an act of inner palace rivalry, framing Tao Yashu to eliminate a competitor? Or was there something far larger being plotted behind it all?

Chu Linlang felt certain there was some design behind it all — she simply couldn’t yet find the thread to pull on.

No — she had to go back and talk this through properly with Situ Sheng, and have him help her untangle it.

With that thought, she took leave of Tao Yashu and hurried back to her suburban villa. But when she stepped down from the carriage and entered the courtyard, she heard a vigorous, familiar voice inside.

Situ Sheng seemed to be speaking with someone.

When Chu Linlang walked in to look, she said with a delighted smile: “Tutor Liao, when did you honor my humble home with your presence? You should have sent word earlier so I could arrange a proper welcome feast.”

The freshly returned Liao Jingxuan looked thoroughly dusty from the road, his beard still tangled and unkempt as ever — apparently having been blown into a disheveled mess by the wind during his journey — yet entirely unaware of the fact. He grinned at Chu Linlang and said: “No need for a grand banquet. What I love most is the simple home cooking Madam Chu makes. Just something plain will do nicely.”

Hearing the tutor say this, Chu Linlang naturally washed her hands and set about preparing a meal, to give his long-deprived stomach some comfort.

When the food was ready, the three of them sat down together over drinks.

Liao Jingxuan reverently lifted a bite of the stir-fried vegetables with meat that Chu Linlang had prepared, and sighed with great feeling: “I’ve been wanting this particular dish for such a long, long time.”

Situ Sheng placed a pair of chopsticks of food in front of Chu Linlang, then asked her: “You went to the Tao estate — did you see Miss Tao?”

Before Chu Linlang could answer, Liao Jingxuan looked up in surprise: “Miss Tao has returned to the Tao estate? Was she not in the palace serving as a female official beside the Empress Dowager? How can she simply return home as she pleases?”

Chu Linlang gave him a sidelong look. It was evident that Liao Jingxuan had only just returned and did not yet know about Tao Yashu’s arranged marriage.

She suddenly thought to test the tutor’s reaction on her friend’s behalf. She looked him full in the face and recounted from beginning to end the news that Miss Tao was about to be married off to the ghost prince.

Before Chu Linlang had even finished, Liao Jingxuan’s wild beard was already bristling with indignation.

He slammed his wine cup down hard on the table: “This is outrageous! The man hasn’t even been found yet — what marriage is there to speak of? And even if he were found, the third prince has been wandering among common folk for so many years — what kind of temperament and character he has, whether he may already have a wife and children, none of that is known. Even when arranging a marriage for a prince, the woman’s family ought to have some say in the matter. What sort of logic is it to handle this like selling a daughter off in a folk custom to ward off evil?”

In all her acquaintance with this tutor, Chu Linlang had always seen him in a cheerful and easy mood — she had never once seen him speak so heatedly or so sharply.

But she could not tell — was he this angry simply because he felt sorry for a gifted female student of his being married into an empty prince’s manor, or was it because he was pained for Tao Yashu the person?

After slamming down his wine cup, Liao Jingxuan seemed to catch himself having spoken out of turn. He fell into a sullen silence, and simply drank one cup of dispirited wine after another.

When he had been injured, that young woman had kept appearing in his courtyard, impossible to drive away no matter how he tried. She was so much younger than him, yet she spoke with all the measured gravity of an elder — precise and by the book.

He was that many years her senior. How could he have failed to see the thread of feeling buried deep beneath it all?

Yet she was so young — how could she truly know what she wanted? And besides, her parents had already arranged a magnificent future for her. She was not someone a Ministry of Works official who spent years posted far from the capital could hope to match.

But she had said she did not wish to enter the palace, that she had no interest in becoming Empress. Once her years of service as a female official were fulfilled, she could be released. By that time she would be older, and perhaps her parents would no longer press her — they would let her live as she wished.

As she said this, her eyes had held a glimmer of hope, as though waiting for him to give some small response.

But in Liao Jingxuan’s view, feelings like this in a woman so young were clearly a passing infatuation — a momentary confusion.

He was her tutor. How could he engage in such reckless behavior with a girl barely grown?

And besides — no matter how he looked at it, he was not a suitable match for a young lady of such high breeding.

He had thought that after he went north, the fog in her head would have lifted.

Never could he have anticipated that the old Emperor would give her in marriage to that long-missing “ghost prince” — consigning her entire life to a hollow, empty manor.

What an enormous and profound absurdity under heaven!

With that thought, he downed several more large cups in succession, yet it did nothing to quench the fire burning ever more intensely in his chest.

It was Situ Sheng who steered the conversation elsewhere, asking him about his search for news of his mother, Wen Shi, at the border.

Liao Jingxuan shook his head in helplessness at this, took a deep breath, and said quietly: “General Yang apparently discovered he was being followed, and after that one visit, stopped going there altogether.”

Chu Linlang asked urgently: “Then… was there not even the smell of that medicinal broth being prepared in the town?”

Liao Jingxuan shook his head again: “The border skirmishes brought upheaval to the area. Many families had already moved away from that town — at night, only a handful of households were even cooking. If Madam Wen had previously been there, she was most likely moved elsewhere early on.”

As for where Yang Yi might be hiding Wen Shi, there was still no lead at all.

However, the Jing Kingdom had indeed reached its limits. They were once again urgently dispatching a new delegation. This time, naturally, the envoy sent was not a reckless provocateur like the one before, but an official well-versed in Great Jin’s affairs. As for the terms of negotiation, they too would have to be different from last time — Great Jin would no longer need to be on the back foot.

Yet the Jing Kingdom was a fierce predator. If pressed too hard, there was the danger it would fight to the death in desperation. But if too much room was given for it to recover — once it had passed through this difficult period, the threat it posed would only grow greater.

So how to negotiate — this too was a matter requiring careful deliberation.

Chu Linlang, seeing the men engrossed in official affairs, took the opportunity of refilling the soup to step outside and leave them to talk among themselves.

After a little while, she saw Liao Jingxuan’s steps come out slightly unsteady.

He seemed to have exceeded his tolerance for wine today. Chu Linlang, uneasy about letting him find his own way back, offered to have Guanqi see him home.

But Liao Jingxuan waved off the suggestion, and with his personal attendant set off in his carriage back toward the city.

The next day, on her way to the shop, Linlang happened to pass Liao Jingxuan’s residence. Thinking of the tutor’s drinking the evening before, she brought along a hangover remedy soup, intending to drop it off.

But before she had even reached the lane entrance, she saw a woman wrapped in a cloak walking out from the lane in great haste, then disappearing quickly into the early morning mist.

Chu Linlang found that retreating figure strangely familiar, and her heart gave an involuntary lurch.

When she came to the front gate of Liao Jingxuan’s residence, she found the gate standing half-open, not properly shut.

She entered the courtyard and called out. The attendant in the side room shuffled out, heavy-eyed with sleep. He took the food container with the hangover soup from Chu Linlang’s hands and went inside to rouse the tutor.

Then she heard the attendant murmur in a low voice: “Oh my, sir — you’ve not even your inner robe on. Sleeping like that, you’ll surely catch a chill!”

Right after that, there was the sound of someone startled from sleep, suddenly leaping up from the bed, followed by a clatter of cups and bowls shattering.

Then at last — with his outer robe buttoned askew and his bare feet exposed — Liao Jingxuan burst out of the room as if his back end were on fire, and upon catching sight of Chu Linlang standing in the middle of the courtyard, stared with eyes stretched as round as fried eggs, his neck seized up as though someone had gripped it: “Madam… Madam Chu? Were you here last night? I… I… I…”

Chu Linlang rubbed the acupoint at her temple and did her best to calm the tutor’s agitated state: “I only just arrived. As for last night…”

She asked with mild curiosity: “Did you have a visitor last night?”

Upon hearing that Madam Chu had not been there the previous night, Liao Jingxuan first let out a long, loose breath of relief.

He had been drunk last night and had a dream — a vivid, unspeakably beautiful dream of extraordinary reality.

The feeling of skin against skin in the dream still lingered at his fingertips even now — it was so overwhelmingly real that he had been left momentarily disoriented.

If in a moment of drunken impropriety he had taken liberties with Situ Sheng’s beloved — that would truly have been cause to cry out to the heavens for mercy.

But if it had not been Madam Chu — then who on earth had been there last night? Could there truly have been a fox spirit visiting him in his dreams?

He too stood there wide-eyed and at a loss, as though plunged into a hazy recollection impossible to distinguish from dream and reality, and after a long interval finally managed to mumble: “I… I may have been confused from the drinking.”

As he said this, he raised his head — and discovered that Chu Linlang’s eyes were bright and sharp, examining him very thoroughly from head to toe.

Well, well. Just yesterday at her home, the tutor had still been rather disheveled and rough about the edges. Yet after one night’s sleep, not a hair was out of place, and his beard had been trimmed neatly. It would appear that someone, upon his return last night, had given him a thorough grooming from head to foot.

Liao Jingxuan had always been an open, unguarded man who paid little mind to small things — yet today, for reasons he could not fathom, under Linlang’s scrutinizing gaze, he felt strangely flustered and averted his eyes.

He couldn’t help striding over to the well in the courtyard. When he leaned over and caught sight of his own hair and beard, he was struck dumb a second time — eyes going wide, unable to speak, sinking once more into an unspeakable stream of recollection.

Linlang was rather perceptive about such things. Having satisfied her curiosity sufficiently, she did not intrude further on the tutor’s business of staring at the well water in a daze.

She took her leave, and with Dongxue at her side stepped out of the lane and prepared to board the carriage.

Dongxue said quietly: “Miss, it seemed to me that the lady who came out of the lane… looked rather like Miss Tao…”

Chu Linlang shot her a look: “Don’t talk nonsense. If anyone overhears, it could cost someone their life.”

Dongxue quickly covered her mouth: “It couldn’t be! Miss, I saw nothing — absolutely nothing.”

Chu Linlang let out a soft sigh. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have dared believe what she had just witnessed.

That composed and dignified young lady friend of hers — once she let go of her restraints, the things she was capable of could truly shock a person to their core.

Thank goodness she herself was born with no destiny for children. If she ever did have a daughter, and that daughter turned out to have the temperament of her good friend — all serene composure on the surface, then suddenly a thunderclap — she truly might lose years off her life.

If she could have a daughter, she would certainly raise her with care and never force her into things she didn’t wish to do. And Situ Sheng would certainly be a good father — he would never let a daughter of his suffer such an enormous injustice.

At this thought, a small pang of loneliness surfaced in Chu Linlang’s heart. She mocked herself gently — why was she turning her mind again to such useless things?

She pushed away her thoughts of what was missing from her life, and simply felt that Tao Yashu was on the brink of entering a living tomb. Rather than keeping company forever with a lonely lamp — to be reckless once, to give herself a little less to regret — was perhaps its own kind of solace.

Chu Linlang decided to pretend she knew nothing of this morning’s chance encounter — to let someone else’s hard-won beautiful dream remain undisturbed.

Because of the imperial arranged marriage, Tao Yashu and the third prince’s ceremony was completed quickly. Given the third prince’s “poor health,” no grand banquet was held.

Tao Yashu, dressed in the imperially bestowed wedding gown, with the four newly purchased maids at her side, was escorted by a wedding procession dispatched by the Office of the Eunuchs, and made her way through the streets in a formal bridal procession, entering the Third Prince’s Manor and becoming its mistress.

At her farewell to her parents, her mother Wu Shi’s face was iron-dark — had her father not insisted, she would perhaps not even have seen her daughter off. Wu Shi could never forgive Tao Yashu for acting entirely on her own, agreeing to this absurd marriage without consulting her family.

In contrast, the Fourth Aunt of the Tao family stood with a face full of gentle smiles, offering warm words of farewell to her niece.

Tao Yashu cast her one cold, sidelong glance — then stepped into the bridal sedan chair without looking back.

Partway through the journey, something seemed to stir in her heart. Tao Yashu lifted the curtain of the sedan chair — and saw a tall man with a long beard standing in the crowd.

His gaze was fixed steadily upon her, no longer turning away or avoiding her eyes.

Tao Yashu did not shy away either. Her lips, touched with the deepest red rouge, curved slightly — and she gave him a radiant smile. Then, as the crowd around her erupted in exclamations of “the bride is so beautiful,” she quietly let the curtain fall, concealing herself completely.

This strange wedding became the talk of great and small households throughout the capital.

Before Tao Yashu left the palace, she had reached an agreement with His Majesty. Tao Yashu would never speak of her husband to anyone outside, while His Majesty in turn granted her a comfortable life of fine food and clothing and exempted her from all the formal ceremonies of the great and small palace banquets.

From this point forward, the imperial city had one more resident who lived in deep seclusion. After Tao Yashu entered the Prince’s Manor, she declined all visits from the Tao family and no longer appeared before others. It seemed as though those years of her life’s beauty would be spent dwindling away in an empty manor — a cause for heartfelt sighs all around.

Yet this advantageous marriage for the third brother left the Crown Prince in high spirits — it at last eliminated the possibility of the Tao family changing allegiances and throwing their support behind a different candidate.

As for Master Lingxi, he had proven himself an exceptional reader of fate. The ink had barely dried on the third prince’s auspicious union before news came from the north concerning the third prince.

It turned out that Situ Sheng had received a letter from the north. Just recently, the northern regional government had reported that there was a lead on the dragon bead bracelet the third prince had been wearing when he was abducted as an infant.

The bracelet had been secretly taken by an elderly woman on the traffickers’ boat, who had not brought herself to sell it — instead giving it to her grandson as a gift for his first-month celebration.

That grandson had grown up and, having developed a gambling habit, had taken the bracelet to a pawnshop.

But jewelry of such unmistakably imperial craftsmanship could not fail to raise suspicions in the eyes of a discerning expert. And Situ Sheng had previously reported to the Emperor and circulated a general description of the bracelet’s design to all the regional governments to assist in the search.

So when the pawnshop proprietor saw the bracelet’s design, he was immediately struck with alarm. He quickly made some excuse to detain the young man, then sent an assistant to notify the authorities.

The local government conducted an urgent interrogation of the young man and also detained one of the elderly woman’s former accomplices from that time, who testified that the infant too had been sold with the woman to the north.

After Situ Sheng received the report, he relayed everything to the Emperor in full.

The old Emperor, upon hearing this, felt his spirits lift at once — for these new leads happened to correspond perfectly with what Master Lingxi had said about the divine sign.

The third prince’s traces were indeed in the north!

With one piece of good news following another, His Majesty immediately issued a confidential order for Situ Sheng to travel to the north in person to verify the authenticity of the lead — and if genuine, to bring the third prince back as soon as possible.

Yet when Situ Sheng received this confidential order, his brow furrowed.

The Jing Kingdom’s new delegation had only just entered the border, and the situation at the northern front was far from settled. Though the Li family’s forces currently held the advantage, the Jing Kingdom’s forces were full of cunning stratagems — and with the militarily gifted Yang Yi giving them support, there was no guarantee they would not simultaneously extend a hand of appeasement while preparing the other fist to strike again.

Situ Sheng had full confidence in the fighting capabilities of the Li family’s father and son, but a commander in the field could only execute strategy. There had to be a firm and unwavering force at court supporting them, to ensure they could fight at the front without any concerns about what lay behind them.

At this critical juncture, if he went north and court was left without him — would that not be like putting all the eggs in one basket?

Yet the third prince was the old Emperor’s deepest preoccupation. Now that a lead had emerged, there was no letting it pass. He gave Situ Sheng a firm command to set aside all other matters and go north first to determine whether the report was true or false.

After all, with the north in open conflict, if the third prince was truly there, he was in a dangerous situation.

Chu Linlang counseled Situ Sheng: “The affairs of the court are not entirely in the hands of the Crown Prince’s faction alone. Elder Qi has many students under him — all upright men of principle. And there are those among the independent officials who are close to you as well. His Majesty has doubts about the Crown Prince’s abilities and has not allowed him any involvement in supervising the grain supply and logistics. You cannot defy the Emperor’s intentions outright. But if you go north… I want to go with you. What do you say?”

Situ Sheng heard this and raised a sword-sharp eyebrow: “That region is in the thick of conflict right now. What would you go there for?”

Chu Linlang smiled: “Didn’t Tutor Liao say he found no leads about your mother? I want to go with you — I can find ways to help.”

Situ Sheng’s brow remained knitted in opposition.

But Chu Linlang tightened her arms around his waist and said softly: “We knew each other when we were young, and yet we were separated for years in between. To find each other again like this, to know each other as we do — that is already a gift almost too great from heaven. We must both cherish this bond, not waste what heaven has given us. You said yourself — if you go, we may be separated for months again. How long does a person have to live? I don’t want to be apart from you that long.”

Situ Sheng’s path ahead was uncertain, and the north was Yang Yi’s sphere of influence. With just him going alone, Chu Linlang could already picture herself unable to sleep through the nights that followed.

So why would she separate herself from Situ Sheng? The north could be as dangerous as anything — as long as she was at his side, Linlang felt an inexplicable sense of peace.

Yet Situ Sheng’s brow stayed knitted. He stubbornly refused to take Linlang with him.

In the end, finding that words alone would not persuade him, Linlang had no choice but to turn to more enticing methods.

To convince Lord Situ, the little merchant woman threw all restraint aside, twisting herself into the most irresistibly alluring pose on the bed, working the man into a fever — then dangling him right at the critical moment without allowing him any satisfaction.

How was a man of red-blooded nature supposed to endure that?

—