In the Year of Jiazi, the Month of Jiazi.
A time auspicious for all undertakings.
King Shen Tingyao of Great Xing formally presented the betrothal gifts to the manor of General Qu, seeking the hand of the eldest daughter, Qu Lingyu, with the full rites accorded to a future Queen. General Qu, stationed far away in the Northwest, dispatched an urgent military missive. The handwriting upon it was bold and vigorous: *The wedding shall be on the eighth day of the second lunar month. I shall offer the surrender of the Greater Yuezhi Kingdom as a tribute to Your Majesty’s great joy. May Heaven protect Great Xing; may Your Majesty’s grace bless all living souls.*
That same day, Shen Tingjiao went to the General’s manor, only to be barred by the General’s wife, Madam Wei. Though she was not yet thirty-five, she wore a white fox fur coat of inestimable value. Adorned with pearls and emeralds, she exuded an intimidating air of nobility. "Ninth Prince, please stay your steps."
Shen Tingjiao had known her since childhood. Back then, she had treated him with great kindness, her every word and gesture gentle and endearing. Now, her attitude was cold and distant. Shen Tingjiao could only try to reason with her. "Madam Qu, you once told me when I was young that you would give Lingyu to me as my wife. Do you still remember?"
Madam Wei frowned and chose to speak plainly. "Ninth Prince, I did indeed say those words. However, the late Emperor was still alive then, and the heir had not been chosen. The late Emperor once remarked that our Lingyu was a 'golden phoenix destined for the parasol tree.' Has the Ninth Prince forgotten? At that time, the succession was undecided, and since you were enamored with Lingyu, I merely assumed you had received the late Emperor’s approval. Who could have known that in the end, it would be the current King who inherited the throne? Ninth Prince, the world is ever-changing; you must learn to accept things as they are."
"But Madam Qu, Lingyu and I are already of one heart..."
Before he could finish, Madam Wei cut him off. "Ninth Prince, watch your words. Do not ruin our Yu’er’s reputation for nothing. Soon, she will wear the phoenix crown and mother all under heaven. Ninth Prince, I thought you were a sensible man. Look at your reputation in Chang'an now. You are no longer a child. Setting aside your lack of achievement, just look at this air of a flighty, hedonistic dandy you carry. How could our Master feel at ease entrusting his daughter to you?"
Shen Tingjiao opened his mouth to speak again, but Madam Wei had already issued the order to see him out. "If the Ninth Prince has no further business, please depart at once."
As Shen Tingjiao left the Qu Manor, he realized that harsh words were not what hurt the most; what was truly terrifying was that every word she spoke was the truth.
***
At that moment, Yin Zhuli was inspecting a batch of embroidery thread with Yun Tianyi, the master of the Tianyi Embroidery Workshop. Having recently switched suppliers, she could afford no negligence. Inside the workshop’s warehouse, thirty-six apprentice embroiderers were sorting through the threads, while six experienced seamstresses supervised the sampling. Yun Tianyi himself picked up silk threads from the bottom of a crate to examine them closely.
Cotton, silk, gold, and silver threads of every color were wound into neat bolts and arranged in the crates. Their quality appeared top-tier.
Knowing the Chief was present in person today, the warehouse staff had prepared a table with tea and snacks for her to rest. She did not sit, however, but stood with her hands behind her back, directing the apprentices to pull two bolts from every crate for a detailed inspection. The only sound in the warehouse was the rhythmic whirring of the thread spindles.
Before long, someone came to report: "Chief, a man calling himself He Jian from the Manor of Prince Fulu seeks an audience."
Yin Zhuli pondered for a moment before saying loudly, "This is the Tianyi Workshop’s warehouse; it is not suitable for outsiders to enter. Have him wait; I will go to meet him shortly."
The messenger acknowledged her and hurried out. Yin Zhuli looked at Yun Tianyi, who was busy inspecting gold thread. She leaned in, coughed once, and whispered, "Tianyi, send someone to the Yin household tonight. Say that I am staying at your place to discuss new embroidery patterns."
Yun Tianyi focused on his silk threads, saying nothing.
Yin Zhuli punched him. "You aren't a member of the Yin family, so my mother won't use the family discipline on you. Do you really have the heart to watch your Chief get whipped another hundred times?"
Yun Tianyi’s gaze was so intense it nearly snapped the silk threads, yet he remained silent.
Yin Zhuli punched him again, harder this time. He was a master of embroidery but had never learned a lick of martial arts; he promptly tumbled to the floor. Yin Zhuli leaned over him. "Did you hear me?"
He lay on the ground with his eyes squeezed shut, looking for all the world like a dead man.
Helpless, Yin Zhuli leaned into his ear and added, "I know Mother will dock your pay if she finds out. How about this: whatever she docks, I’ll make up for it. Deal?"
Yun Tianyi intended to keep playing dead, but Yin Zhuli turned ruthless. "Keep pretending then, Yun Tianyi. You’ve been secretly letting the seamstresses do your work for you. Most of the 'Yun Tianyi' pieces currently on the market were only embroidered by you at the very end where you sign your name! How do you explain that?"
Yun Tianyi stopped playing dead. He performed a sudden kip-up and scrambled to his feet, looking around in terror. Seeing that no one had overheard, he leaned in and whispered, "How did you know?"
Yin Zhuli blinked. "Jinxiu, the girl who does your embroidery, went to buy rouge and told Madam Xu at the Rouge Button shop. Madam Xu told Hongye at the Guangling Pavilion. Hongye told Manager Yan at the Yanruyu Jade Shop. Manager Yan went to gamble and told Gou Qian at the Thousand-Acre Fortune Den."
Yun Tianyi felt like spitting blood, but he was still unwilling to give in. "Even so, there's no way you could have known."
Yin Zhuli spread her hands. "Gou Qian told Hao Jian."
If Hao Jian knew, it was the same as the Chief knowing. Yun Tianyi collapsed back onto the ground and closed his eyes. This time, he truly felt like dying.
***
Yin Zhuli found He Jian outside the workshop. He was dressed in a grey robe, looking every bit the scholar. His three-inch beard was neatly trimmed, adding a touch of refined elegance to his appearance.
Before he could speak, Yin Zhuli said with a faint smile, "Let me guess. Word of the King’s betrothal to the Qu Manor is spreading through Chang'an. The Ninth Prince surely went to the Qu Manor, and since the General is away, he must have been kicked out by Madam Qu."
He Jian remained silent.
Yin Zhuli began to walk forward. "Where is your carriage, sir?"
He Jian led the way, and the two of them took the carriage to the Manor of Prince Fulu. Yin Zhuli walked along the long corridor. In the rear garden, Shen Tingjiao was staring blankly at a pond of emerald water. The winter air was freezing, yet he was dressed thinly. No matter what the servants said to him, he remained motionless and silent.
Yin Zhuli stood by the corridor for a long time. He actually fit the scene quite well—the bitter winter, a pond full of withered lotuses, and the barren willows by the shore. Dressed in plain silk, he sat on a green stone by the lake, his hair ribbon loose and his long hair fluttering in the wind. He looked utterly despondent.
Yin Zhuli slowly approached him, first confirming one thing: "Are you planning to drown yourself?"
The Ninth Prince, who had been sitting in a daze, looked startled for a moment. He turned to look at her and only spoke after a long silence. "I am considering it."
Yin Zhuli unfastened her white fox fur coat and gently draped it over his shoulders. She leaned down to carefully tie the silk ribbons for him before saying slowly, "Then take your time considering. When you’re ready to jump, remember to give this coat back to me first."
She waved her hand, and servants immediately brought a red clay stove and several jars of wine to the corridor. Yin Zhuli broke the clay seal of a wine jar, poured it into a pot to warm, and spoke in a leisurely tone. "Once you’ve thrown yourself into the lake, I’m afraid we won't have many chances to drink together. Why don't you have a few cups with me first?"
Shen Tingjiao said nothing. He grabbed the wine pot from the stove and poured it into his mouth, only to spray it all out a second later. Yin Zhuli looked suspicious. "Could the wine really be that hot?"
Shen Tingjiao grabbed the cold wine from the jar and gulped it down frantically before huffing out a breath. "Hot! It's hot!"
Yin Zhuli remained unperturbed. "You're going to drown yourself anyway; you won't be needing your tongue later. A little scalding won't hurt."
Shen Tingjiao glared at her, unable to take any more. Without a word, he mixed the hot wine from the pot back into the jar. Yin Zhuli watched him warm the wine. His fingers were exceptionally long, his skin almost translucent, with faint blue veins visible beneath. When he held the pot, his pinky and thumb tended to curl slightly upward, his posture focused and elegant.
"This is how you warm wine. What you were doing was boiling it, which ruins the aroma for nothing." Though his words carried a slight reproach, his voice was soft. He stood up and poured a cup for Yin Zhuli as well. There was no low table, so the two of them sat on the stones by the lake. Warming wine by the water added a touch of rustic charm.
Yin Zhuli leaned back against a barren willow tree. "You really are an expert when it comes to wine, crickets, antiques, and... well, women."
Shen Tingjiao snapped, "My appreciation for music and dance is also top-tier!"
Yin Zhuli looked skeptical. "How about you perform a dance for me then?"
Shen Tingjiao huffed. Yin Zhuli patted his shoulder. "Ninth Lord, you're about to jump into the lake. If you don't dance now, you'll never get the chance."
Shen Tingjiao finally exploded. "That's enough! Can you go one sentence without mentioning the lake?! When did I ever say I was going to jump?! Is this how you comfort people?"
Yin Zhuli looked genuinely surprised. "Who said I came to comfort you? I clearly came to watch you jump! A Prince throwing himself into a lake—it's a spectacle for the ages! Why else would I drop all my business and rush over here?" She then put on a look of panic. "Your Highness, you can't *not* jump! I was planning to turn the story into a script and sell it to the storytellers!"
Shen Tingjiao’s face grew darker and darker, his handsome features twisting with rage. He stood up with a start and aimed a massive kick at Yin Zhuli. "Yin Zhuli, go to hell!"
Yin Zhuli was naturally not afraid of him. She dodged to the side with a giggle. However, she had been sitting right at the edge of the water. With that dodge, the Ninth Prince’s kick met nothing but air. With a loud *splash*, he fell straight into the lake.
...
