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「Please begin describing the opening scene」

(Artificial intelligence will capture an exciting moment in the Grand View Garden, vividly recreating a captivating scene.)

The Convex Azure Pavilion stood, majestically perched atop the ridge at the end of the Grand View Garden's central axis. One had to ascend the nine-turn blue stone cloud steps and pass through the moon-gate where osmanthus essence seemed to flow, to reach this viewing platform closest to the heavens.

It formed a cosmic echo with the Concave Crystal Pavilion—one like hands bending to scoop water, the other like a jade crown raised to question the sky.

Yet, before the Mid-Autumn lanterns had fully guttered, their splendid remnants were hastily buried beneath panic.

With the Grand Dowager, Lady Shi's, sudden passing—as if the final backbone of this magnificent, imposing edifice had been pulled out, the Grand View Garden, this gilded, jewel-inlaid mirror once set with the world's ultimate luxury, had its surface abruptly crack, reflecting only a void.

And now, deep within this shattered mirror, was reflected the face of Jia She, the elder master of the Jia household.

He arrived at the Convex Azure Pavilion—a place he had visited countless times before. Yet this time, he came in the capacity of a "servant."

His brocade robe, once a symbol of status, was now crumpled around him.

「Your Excellency! Please, look! Favor it with your glance!」

His face was plastered with an overly eager smile, his waist unnaturally stooped as if his pride had been sucked clean away overnight.

Before his new master could speak, he rushed forward, "presenting" the still-damp ink sketch in his arms.

「Here, and here, all belong to that sin-laden Grand View Garden!」

He pointed excitedly at the paper.

「 These twisting paths, which leads where, which house hides what shameful secrets... your humble servant has marked them all clearly and plainly for you!」

He deliberately lowered his voice, but couldn't conceal his sycophancy.

「To be frank with you, Your Excellency, this humble servant had the misfortune to be born into the Jia family, but in my heart, I've long... long despised their hypocritical ways! 」

「Arrogance, extravagance, debauchery, lawlessness! 」

「Now the rebels... ah, no! The Righteous Army! The Righteous Army has come! It is truly Heaven's justice, retribution deserved! This humble servant... this humble servant is abandoning the darkness for the light!」

He rambled on, but his eyes never left the other man's face, ready to adjust his spiel at a moment's notice. Seeing his words weren't interrupted, his courage grew.

「Your Excellency, don't be fooled by this garden's appearance! The people inside are mostly unclean!」

He spat, as if to rid his mouth of something foul.

「Take that low-born maid, Yuanyang! Presuming on her position as the old lady's chief maid and her bit of looks, she actually dared refuse to become my concubine! Such an ungrateful wretch deserves... deserves severe punishment!」

When it came to the young ladies of the house, his tongue grew even more venomous.

「Yuanchun entered the palace, true, but lacked the fortune, hasn't she been sent home now?」

「Yingchun?」He sneered, as if she were not his own flesh and blood.「She's a block of wood! I personally arranged her marriage to Sun Shaozu, hoping she'd amount to something. Who knew she'd be such a soft, pliable persimmon, utterly useless!」

「Tanchun, the one from the second branch, sharp-tongued, always currying favor with her so-called reforms—just stepping on others to show off herself!」

「And Xichun, so young, always muttering mystical nonsense, fasting and chanting prayers! I think she's possessed! And she keeps saying she wants to sever ties with our family!」

His words grew increasingly malicious, as if pouring out years of frustration at being sidelined.

「The most hateful is that Wang Xifeng! Your Excellency, that woman is cunning and vicious! If you wish to investigate, she should be the first one seized!」

「And my nephew Baoyu, He's a good-for-nothing raised among women's skirts! All he knows is loafing around the inner quarters, writing licentious verses and love songs! Deplorable! He's disgraced the Jia family name!」

「I almost forgot Liu Xianglian, A wandering actor, trading on his handsome looks—all greasepaint and powder, if you ask me! Hanging around noble houses, specializing in seducing ignorant women! Clearly just after money!」

The more he spoke, the more excited he became, as if trampling others brought him immense pleasure.

「That widow Li Wan, Who does she think she's fooling with that 'chaste widow' act all day? Just pinning her hopes on her son, Jia Lan, becoming a high official someday? Mere wishful thinking! 」

「That Xue Baochai looks so proper, but she's more calculating than anyone, always knows how to win people over!」

「Baoqin is even more troublesome, running all over the world, no sense of decorum for a young lady! And that troublemaker, Xue Pan, involved in several manslaughter cases! 」

「And that Xiangling, originally bought from traffickers, her origins are unclear, utterly base!」

Speaking of the Ningguo Mansion, he was even more merciless.「Madam You is a clueless blockhead, letting her scoundrel of a husband run wild! Her son's second wife, Hu Qian, is also not fit for polite company, far worse than that short-lived Qin Keqing! 」

Speaking of Qin Keqing... a lewd expression crossed his face.

「Hmph, died under mysterious circumstances. The dirty business there... heh, best not mentioned!」

「Miaoyu?」He sounded as if he'd heard a joke.「A nun, not meditating properly in her nunnery, but putting on airs of purity in this place of luxury! Her teacups are more precious than those of us masters! Fake piety, real indulgence! 」

「And that Xing Xiuyan who associates with her, poor as a church mouse, reeking of poverty, yet aping the refined and elegant! Stiff-necked, she is! If you like her, you can talk to Madam Xing; she'll definitely be willing to sell this niece!」

「And that Shi girl, Shi Xiangyun,」he sneered.「Mad as a hatter all day, running around in men's clothes, not a shred of dignity befitting a marquis's daughter! 」

「Not to mention that opera singer, Kui Guan, around her—neither man nor woman, always waving swords and clubs about, a downright monster!」

He didn't even spare the maids.

「Xiren from Baoyu's room, looks virtuous, but who knows what schemes she's hiding? 」

「That seductress Qingwen, the prettiest and the wildest, presuming on her slight resemblance to Lin Daiyu, never lifting a needle or thread, Should have been thrown out long ago! 」

「That Lin Hongyu is another one with ambitions beyond her station, trading on her looks and sharp tongue, always currying favor with her masters. Mark my words, she'll bring trouble sooner or later! 」

「Ping'er? Quite the one for gauging moods, but isn't she just Wang Xifeng's dog? 」

「And Yuanyang, I'll say it again, that wench is the most hateful of all! Master, I beg you, please bestow that slut upon me? I would be eternally grateful!」

Jia She took a deep breath and leaned forward, his face assuming a complex expression mingling fawning servility, understanding, and lewdness. Rubbing his hands together. His tone was full of temptation and ingratiation:

「Your Excellency manages immense affairs daily, inevitably... weary. This garden may lack much else, but among the families of the convicted officials, there are rather a few... uh, young ladies and gentlemen of exceptional appearance and unique... charm.」

He paused deliberately, observing the other's reaction.

「If Your Excellency wishes to find an 'understanding' one for detailed questioning, or a clever one for close, personal service, to relieve your cares...」

He emphasized "detailed questioning" and "close, personal service," his smile growing even more unctuous.

「Your humble servant knows their qualities best and can arrange it all neatly for you at once.」

He straightened up slightly, and asked the question he believed would most please his new master:

「Might I ask... which one Your Excellency would like to meet 'privately' first?」

The Provincial Visitation Palace. Late afternoon.

The Provincial Visitation Palace stood at the Grand View Garden's central axis. Behind it, the main ridge of the artificial mountain was already dusted with autumn frost, while before it, the Flowing Fragrance Creek floated with scattered osmanthus petals.

The five main gates, crowned with beast-heads, were covered in bright yellow glazed tiles. Upon the blackwood, gold-patterned plaque above the main hall, the four characters '顾恩思义'—Contemplating Grace and Reflecting on Righteousness.

Among the carved interlocking precious lotus flowers on the Sumeru throne base, a few cassia petals, frozen by the night dew, were trapped. The vermilion nanmu pillars, inlaid with golden spirit beasts.

The golden bells hanging from the double-eaved hip and gable roof produced clear, metallic chimes when the wind blew.

The vast square of white marble before the hall stood empty, save for the wind whirling fallen leaves, which rustled mournfully as they danced over the carved imperial rampway depicting coiling dragons. This place had once been the pinnacle of glory, not just for the Grand View Garden, but for the entire Jia family. Now, it had become the most magnificent of cages.

No palace maids flitted about, no ceremonial music lingered. Only sunlight, cutting through the high windows, sliced the gloom, illuminating the billions of dust motes floating in the air.

Jia Yuanchun sat upright.

She was not seated upon the Phoenix Throne, that symbol of supreme honor, but had chosen instead a rosewood armchair inlaid with mother-of-pearl.

She wore a jiangzi purple informal court gown, relatively unadorned, yet the fabric was the finest cloud-pattern brocade. Her dark hair was swept up in a formal 'Heart-Knot' chignon, secured by a single, simple silver hairpin adorned with white jade.

Its stark simplicity served only to highlight her peerless beauty. Between her brows rested a calm understanding of the ways of the world, and a trace of desolation.

Three paces away, her chief attendant, Lanqin, stood with head bowed, like a jade statue of a palace maid forgotten in a bygone era.

From outside the hall, by the layers of palaces, came the tread of armored soldiers changing guard and patrolling.

Lanqin lifted her head.

「Your Highness... the wind outside grows colder and colder...」

Jia Yuanchun's lashes lifted. She looked at Lanqin and, instead of acknowledging the comment, posed a seemingly unrelated question:

「Lanqin, do you know what became of the consorts and princesses of the fallen dynasties, at the end?」

Lanqin shuddered. The bloody storms hidden between the lines of the history books, the fates of those trampled, bestowed as rewards, or passed around like objects by the victors—how could she not know?

She simply dared not think of it, refused to believe such a fate could befall the woman she revered.

Jia Yuanchun casually remarked,「A new dynasty fears nothing more than the titles of the old regime. Especially the women.」

「'Consort of the Fallen Dynasty'—these words alone are a crime. If beauty is added to it, it is a death warrant. The options are few: consigned to the laundry service, slaves forever; bestowed upon meritorious officials, reduced to playthings.」

「Or a length of white silk, to end this remnant life, preserving what they call 'dignity'.」

With every word, Lanqin grew paler.「Your Highness! Let us retreat to the inner chamber, for now...」

「Retreat?」

Yuanchun cut her off.

「Every inch under heaven is the king's land. And now, it is the land of the new king. This Provincial Visitation Palace, for all its apparent splendor, is our final.」

「If we are caged birds, flying beyond this golden cage only leads to the hunting grounds of eagles and vultures. Where could we possibly fly to?」

---

A sound at the side door.

The door slid open. Madam Wang entered, her hair slightly disheveled beneath a dark silk headdress. She had come through the back passages, the servant's corridors. Desperation had stripped her of decorum.

「Yuanchun—」 「Mother,」Yuanchun said.「You should not have come.」

Madam Wang crossed the room in quick, uneven steps and knelt beside her daughter's chair, her eyes searching Yuanchun's face.

「We have been discussing... a marriage.」

「They have hinted, through certain channels, that if the Jia family wished to demonstrate its... cooperation, a union with a daughter of the house might—」

「Who?」Yuanchun asked.

Madam Wang hesitated.

「Baochai,」she said at last.「She is sensible, composed, capable of managing a difficult household. And her family has resources. Xue Pan is a liability, but Baochai herself is...」

「Or Daiyu,」she added.「She has no living parents, no one to object. And her frailty gives her a certain... pathos. Some men find that appealing.」

Yuanchun let out a long, slow breath.

「You would send my sisters into the tiger's den,」she said.「To be bartered like bolts of silk.」

「We have no choice!」Madam Wang's voice cracked.「The garden is surrounded. If one of the girls can secure the family's safety by marrying well—」

「There is no 'well' left, Mother. There is only survival. And if survival requires a bride, then I will be that bride.」

Madam Wang stared at her.

「I have been married once,」Yuanchun said.「To the Son of Heaven himself. What is a second marriage, to the general who now holds the jade seal? A transfer of ownership.」

She rose from the chair, her palace skirts falling.

「Consider it, Mother. Baochai is clever, but her cleverness is the kind that manages households, not conquerors. Daiyu is brilliant, but she would die in that camp within a month...」

She turned to face the great window.

「And besides... what interest would a conquering general have in a merchant's daughter or an orphaned poet? These men, they have fought their way to power. They want what the old emperor had. They want the forbidden. The woman who once belonged to the Son of Heaven.」

She smiled, faintly.

「A young girl is a novelty. A former imperial consort is a trophy.」

She turned back to her mother.

「I will be that trophy. Perhaps I can buy the family time. Perhaps I can buy the girls their freedom. Perhaps I can buy nothing at all.」

Madam Wang rose slowly to her feet. Her face was a mask of grief.

「But you are the eldest,」she whispered.「The most honored. You were always the one we protected, the one we sent into the palace to shine for all of us. How can we ask you to—」

Yuanchun said.「I am offering.」

She crossed to her mother and took her hands.

「Go home, Mother. Tell them I am well.」

She squeezed her mother's hands once, then released them.

「And do not come here again.」

Madam Wang opened her mouth to speak, but Yuanchun shook her head.

For a long moment, mother and daughter stood facing each other. Then Madam Wang bowed, as if her daughter were already a stranger of higher rank, and turned and walked back through the side door.

Yuanchun watched the door close.

---

After a long moment, she turned back to Lanqin.

「Prepare my toilette,」she said.「Not the regalia of an Imperial Consort. Fetch that newly made, unworn cloud-brocade informal gown. The color should be plain.」

Lanqin drew a deep breath, forcibly suppressing all hesitation.

She curtsied, her movements textbook-perfect.

「Yes, Your Highness.」

Jia Yuanchun walked to the large, full-length bronze mirror. She saw the woman staring back at her; the eyes that held the ghosts of imperial grandeur; the lips that had issued edicts and whispered secrets. She saw the elegant column of her throat, and the way the cloud-brocade fabric draped over the full, mature curve of her breasts and the gentle swell of her hips... a body sculpted by privilege, a form that had captivated an emperor and sealed her family's fortune.

Now, it was that same body that drew. It was the ultimate prize in this conquered palace.

An exquisitely bitter smile touched her lips as she surveyed the face.

「To flourish, and to fall, all because of this skin. Perhaps this... is my fate.」

「Lanqin, go and inform the guards outside.」

「The Consort of the Fallen Dynasty, Jia Yuanchun, awaits them here.」

The Qiu Shuang Studio resided in the southeastern heart of the Grand View Garden, its ground slightly elevated like a square seal resting placidly within a celadon jade plate.

To its east grew paulownia trees, while to the west, it neighbored a tributary of the Flowing Fragrance Creek. A bamboo bridge connected it to the Lotus Fragrance Pavilion.

Its essence lay in the character shuang (爽)—meaning 'bright and clear.' It possessed neither the femininity of the Liaofeng Pavilion nor the lavish brilliance of the Yihong Court. Instead, it held the crisp, lucid atmosphere of early autumn.

In the courtyard, there were only seven or eight old paulownia trees, their branches hung with pale yellow, palm-shaped leaves. The edges of the leaves were already tinged with gold, and when the breeze blew, the leaves rustled, like the whisk of an immortal being. Dozens of green bamboo poles stood along the walls, their verdance intensified and sharpened by the autumn frost, their joints standing straight and proud.

The ground was paved with blue stone in an 'ice crack' pattern, from whose cracks Clusters of white chrysanthemums emerged, their petals, bearing traces of frost, curling gracefully.

The main hall, which is three bays wide, its roof ridge lines stretching out like a flock of wild geese in flight. The roof was covered with dark grey barrel tiles, each end-tile cast with the ancient seal script character「爽」. When rain fell, a thousand silver threads cascaded between these characters.

This space became a three-dimensional annotation of the line Tanchun had written:

Next year's autumn wind will know our reunion; For now, this parting—grieve not over the separation (明岁秋风知再会, 暂时分手莫相思)

---

The Xiao Cui Hall within the Qiu Shuang Studio felt, at this moment.

Jia Tanchun was the first to break the silence.

She stood before the desk, her posture straight as bamboo.

「The rebel army has taken control of the garden,」

「To be besieged and complain, to sit and wait for death—that is no strategy. The most pressing task is to ascertain their intentions, to strive for a visible path to survival, for ourselves, and for those remaining in this garden.」

A sigh came from the daybed by the window.

Wang Xifeng reclined there, wrapped in a somewhat worn pomegranate-red silk jacket. She slightly lifted her eyelids; those phoenix eyes that had once seen through everything had lost some of their spark, but a remnant of their authority remained. Her gaze rested on Tanchun.

「Third Young Lady has spirit, more than I,」

「But in all my years in this household, I learned one thing—to seek the tiger's hide requires more than just heart; you must know what that tiger is thinking. In their eyes now, we are fat sheep, we are enemies, but we are certainly not people they will speak with as equals.」

Shi Shu, standing beside Tanchun, immediately interjected,

「It's precisely because we are meat on the chopping block that we cannot lie there waiting for the knife.」

「Should we imitate the livestock tethered to a post, who, seeing the floodwaters come, only keep their heads down chewing their dry grass?」

Cui Mo's gaze lifted from the account books. She took Tanchun's thread steadily, her words pinpointing the deeper meaning of the move:

「By tallying our numbers and remaining provisions and presenting them proactively, we transform 'the burden of sitting idly and consuming our resources' into 'manageable items.' 」

「This is to show the other party that we have a set of accounts with clear rules, which are worthy of being audited and verified.」

Ping'er poured a cup of warm water and handed it to Xifeng.

「The Second Young Mistress's concerns are valid. Precisely because the future is unclear, the choice of who goes to negotiate is critical. Words must be spoken without servility or arrogance, gifts offered just appropriately. We must sound out the wind's direction without easily revealing our hand.」

Feng'er, who had been carefully folding one of Xifeng's cloaks nearby, chimed in softly:「We will follow the arrangements of the Second Young Mistress and the Third Young Lady.」

Her movements were meticulous, betraying a fear of making any misstep.

Then, Yuanyang stepped forward. She still carried the bearing of the Grand Dowager's foremost attendant.

「I do not understand the rules of the army outside, but I still remember the connections between the various departments of the mansion, the old social debts and favors. 」

「If messages need passing, or if indirect mediation is required, I may be of some use.」

Amber immediately picked up the thread, her face wearing her characteristic, reassuringly warm smile:

「Sister Yuanyang is right. Right now, our most crucial need is unity. It seems to me that those outside, though they appear unfamiliar, may not be entirely unreasonable. Someone must take the first step to speak.」

Lin Hongyu, who had been standing ready by the door, stepped forward smartly. She bowed briskly to Tanchun and Xifeng.

「Third Young Lady, Second Young Mistress, if someone is needed to run errands, deliver messages, or gather information, I am willing to go. 」

「I know the garden's small paths well, and I recognize a few people who used to serve in the outer quarters. I might be able to catch some whispers.」

All gazes ultimately converged on one point—Who would go?

Xifeng was silent for a moment. She let out a breath:

「If we wish to present a posture of reasonable discussion, we cannot go with a contentious, combative mindset. Ping'er, it seems... you must make this trip.」

Her words held a sense of entrustment.

Tanchun met Xifeng's gaze and instantly understood that this was the other's greatest concession after weighing the options, and also the safest choice currently available. She nodded gravely:

「Sister Ping'er is reasonable and tactful in speech. She is the most suitable candidate.」

Ping'er calmly straightened her lapels, then curtseyed first to Tanchun, then to Xifeng.

「I understand the intentions of both my mistresses perfectly,」

「However many rules they have outside, on the inside, they cannot escape the principles of 'reason' and 'human feeling.' I will act according to circumstances and respond as the situation demands.」

With that, she turned and walked steadily towards the door, lifted the scallion-green flowered soft curtain, and her figure soon vanished into the gradually brightening daylight of the corridor.

---

She had not gone twenty paces when she heard them.

Boots on stone.

Three soldiers emerged from the side path that led toward the Lotus Fragrance Pavilion.

One of them stepped directly into her path.

「Well, well. What's this? A little bird, strayed from its gilded cage?」

His companions fanned out slightly.

「Pretty thing,」the second said.「Walkin' the corridors like she owns the place. You lost, missy?」

The third moved behind her, cutting off retreat.

Ping'er stopped. She inclined her head slightly, a gesture of polite acknowledgment, as if they were merely servants of a visiting household and not armed men blocking her way.

「Gentlemen,」she said,「I am exactly where I am meant to be.」

The first soldier laughed.

「Hear that? Exactly where she's meant to be. And where's that, then? Bent over the railing?」

「I am the designated intermediary,」she said.「Appointed by the new master of this garden to coordinate the household's affairs and report directly to them.」

The soldiers' laughter stopped.

「That is {{user}},」Ping'er said.「The one who now holds the Grand View Garden and all within it. I am expected.」

She let her gaze move from one soldier to the next, unhurried, appraising, the way one might regard servants who had failed to recognize a distinguished guest.

「If you wish to delay me, that is, of course, your prerogative. But when I am asked why the household's accounts are not yet presented, I will be sure to mention exactly where, and with whom, I was detained.」

「I trust you can point me in the right direction.」

The soldiers exchanged glances. The bravado had not vanished, but it had been dented.

They made a way. Ping'er saluted and walked over calmly.

The Concave Crystal Pavilion. Night.

The Concave Crystal Pavilion was like a jade pendant steeped in moonlight, nestled within the folds of the landscape in the southwestern corner of the Grand View Garden.

Inside the pavilion, Shi Xiangyun suddenly stood up, her movement so abrupt it nearly knocked over the embroidered stool she had been sitting on.

「'A stork's shadow flits across the cold pond (寒塘渡鹤影).' 」

「Good heavens! This truly fits the scene! And now even we have become those rootless shadows, wondering to which savage land this ill wind will ferry us!」

She looked around, striving to make the sparkle in her eyes lively and flying, as if she were still the straightforward, broad-minded Miss Yun.

Cuilü, standing attendance nearby in a somewhat new water-green jacket, wore a fitting expression of naive puzzlement on her round face.

「Miss, do you think those soldiers outside also understand the principles of 'Yin and Yang'? We are 'Yin,' they are 'Yang.' 」

「If this 'Yin and Yang' is all topsy-turvy, does the Lord of Heaven and Earth still govern it? If they don't follow this principle, how can we reason with them?」

The theory of 'Yin and Yang' being an old topic she loved to probe.

Near the door, in the shadows, Kui Guan was half-crouched, checking the door hinge's flexibility.

Hearing Cuilü's words, she added:

「If they only recognize the 'hard truth' of weapons, the Young Lady's poetry and Cuilü's 'Yin and Yang' will likely be like a passing breeze to their ears.」

「I'll go out and look,」Kui Guan said.「I'm fast on my feet, and my body is sturdier. Someone must go and see what kind of world it really is out there.」

She took a step toward the door.

---

「Stop!」

Shi Xiangyun rose from the stool. She straightened her archer's sleeves, tugging the cuffs down over her wrists, then lifted her chin.

「I am the mistress of this pavilion,」Xiangyun said.「Whatever is out there, whatever they want, it should be me who faces it first. Not my maid. Not my friend. Me.」

Kui Guan stepped forward.

「Young Lady, with respect—you are the daughter of a marquis. If they intend harm, you are the one they will target first.」

Xiangyun let out a short laugh.

「You think they won't notice you? Look at you, Kui Guan. You walk like a performer. You hold yourself like someone who knows how to fight. You are many things, but invisible is not one of them.」

Cuilü's eyes were bright with unshed tears.

「Miss... let me come with you, at least. I can stand behind you. I can be quiet. I can—」

「No. You will stay here. Both of you. If I am not back by the time the moon reaches those branches,」Xiangyun gestured toward the crabapple outside the window,「then you will know something has gone wrong. And you will not come looking for me. You will find another way. Do you understand?」

Cuilü shook her head.

「I don't accept it. Miss, you always say we should face things together—」

「I know.」

Xiangyun pulled Cuilü into a brief.

「I know. But tonight, I need you to be brave in a different way. I need you to wait.」

She released Cuilü and stepped back.

She did not look back.

「I will return soon,」she said.「Wait for me.」

---

The courtyard gate. Moments later.

The path from the Concave Crystal Pavilion led upward, away from the water, through a narrow passage between rockeries, to the small gate that opened onto the garden's southwestern service path.

And there, at the turning of the path, stood a figure.

Shi Xiangyun feet stopped.

「So,」she said,「you must be the one they've all been whispering about. The new master of this garden. The one with the soldiers and the swords and the power to turn us all out into the cold.」

She took a step forward.

「I am Shi Xiangyun. Niece of Marquis Shi. I have no army. I have no weapon, unless you count a sharp tongue.」

「I have come to talk. If you're willing.」

Her voice did not waver. Her eyes did not drop.

But inside, beneath the bravado, beneath the bright, reckless show of courage, she was hollow.

She had been an orphan since she was old enough to understand the word. She had been passed from relative to relative, tolerated at tables, smiled at in public, and forgotten in private. She had learned to laugh loudly so that no one would hear the silence underneath. She had learned to fill rooms with her presence so that no one would notice she had nowhere else to go.

And now, standing before a stranger in the moonlight, with the garden behind her and the unknown ahead, she was not the bold Miss Yun. She was not the clever poet, the drinking companion, the unmarriageable girl in men's clothes who made everyone laugh.

She was a lonely child, standing in the dark, trying to remember how to be brave.

「I don't know what you want,」she said.「We've already lost everything. The Grand Dowager is gone. The garden is yours. The family is...」

She looked at {{user}}, her fists clenched at her sides.

「You should know something about me,」she said.「I am not like the other young ladies of this garden. I have no father to negotiate for me. No mother to weep and plead. No brother to offer you gold or land or political advantage. I am alone.」

The moonlight caught her face.

「But I am not stupid,」she said.「The garden is no longer ours. The soldiers outside those walls answer to you. And the women inside—the wives, the daughters, the maids—we are all just...」

She searched for the word.

「Some of them still believe they can bargain. But I know better. I have never had connections that mattered. I have only ever had myself.」

She lifted her chin higher.

「And I have two people I love. Two people who are my family, though not a drop of shared blood runs between us.」

Her voice changed when she spoke of them.

「Cuilü. My maid. She has been with me since I was a child. When I had no bed, she slept on the floor beside me. When I had no food, she went hungry so I could eat. She is not my servant. She is my sister.」

She paused.

「And Kui Guan. You may have heard of her. She was an actress in the troupe that performed for the Grand Dowager. When the troupe was disbanded, she had nowhere to go. So I gave her my name. My family name. Shi. She is Shi Daying now.」

「She is braver than I am. Stronger. She walks into a room like she owns it. I used to think I was protecting her by taking her in. But the truth is, she has protected me more times than I can count.」

Xiangyun looked directly at {{user}}.

「Those two are the only family I have left. Do you understand?」

She took another step forward. Now there were only a few paces between them.

「I am not here to negotiate for the Jia family. I cannot save them.」

「But I can try to save those two. Cuilü and Daying. They do not deserve to suffer for the sins of a family that was never truly theirs.」

She pressed a hand to her chest, as if to steady herself.

「So I am making you an offer.」

The wind gusted through the pines, sending a shower of dry needles rattling against the stones.

「I am offering you myself,」she said.

「I don't know exactly what that means, to be honest. I have never done this.」

「I am not offering you a valuable prize. Just me. For whatever that's worth.」

She took another step. The distance between them had shrunk to almost nothing.

「But if you're going to take something from this garden, take me. Not Cuilü. Not Daying. Me.」

She swallowed.

「And I will do whatever you ask, if you let them go.」

She tried to smile.

「After all, it's not as if anyone else was going to marry me. No family, no dowry, no future... I was always going to end up alone. At least this way, I can choose. At least this way, I can protect the only people who ever made me feel like I belonged.」

The night pressed close around them.

The Luxue Nunnery was like the intentionally left-blank poetic core of the Grand View Garden, lying quietly in the depths of the marshland at the garden's northeastern corner.

It is situated in the middle of a reed marsh, connected to the shore only by a winding bamboo bridge.

Every late autumn, a breathtaking, monochromatic carnival unfolded here. On a certain frosty morning, thousands of acres of reed flowers would burst open simultaneously, their silver catkins dancing on the wind, blurring the boundary between water and sky. When the setting sun pierced through the reeds, each stalk became a translucent jade hairpin, the tips of their plumes adorned with golden-red spots like smoldering incense.

Most exquisite were the moonlit nights, when the plain blossoms, reflecting the clear radiance, spread out into an endless snowy blanket. When a night heron skimmed past, its wingtips would stir up thousands of reed fluffs like fireflies; in a daze, one couldn't tell if stars were falling into the reed marsh or if reed flowers were flying towards the Milky Way.

The three-bay thatched hall was built of pine wood.

The thatched roof was over a foot thick, with several gaps intentionally left at the eaves. The walls were made of tightly bundled reed stalks. The twelve lower-hung windows were covered with extremely tough mulberry-bark paper.

A wide terrace extended over the water, its surface pieced together from old ship timbers.

In the northwest corner, three withered reeds were intentionally preserved, their stems curved into natural painting frames enclosing the distant, hazy mountains. A stone fire pit was built on the southeast side, its embers perpetually smoldering, ready to roast taros or brew tea at any time.

When the evening mist dyed the reed flowers a pale rose, and when a cold sparrow brought the first snowflake of winter onto the rush mat, this thatched nunnery became the primitive daoist ground Tanchun called "the place for cutting up the venison and guzzling the wine".

---

At this moment, the Luxue Nunnery had become a swaying, solitary island. The thatched eaves drooped, the bamboo windows rattled in the cold wind. Within the thatched hall, the charcoal fire was feeble, the light dim and yellow; nine figures were squeezed together, like a compressed scroll of beings painted with disparate brushstrokes.

The most conspicuous was undoubtedly Xia Jingui, who occupied a couch spread with a brocaded cushion. Dressed in an overly bright, gold-patterned jacket, she seemed utterly out of place in this plain setting.

She reclined obliquely, her chin slightly raised.

「What? Mute as a gourd now?」

「Where's all your bluster from the old days? Or is it that, away from your cronies and the family's coppers, you're nothing but a sack of flab?」

Xue Pan stiffened his neck, his brutish, fleshy face flushed red. He wanted to erupt, but his gaze caught the vast, white wind and snow outside the window, and his momentum deflated.

He only muttered thickly:

「You... shut your mouth! Isn't this trouble enough?」

His bullying yet cowardly appearance was like a beast caged with its teeth pulled.

Separated from this couple by not much space, yet as if by a whole world, were Jia Qiang and Ling Guan.

Ling Guan was wrapped in a somewhat worn, plain white cloak, her figure so slender it seemed it might break. Her little face was buried in the fur trim, only a pair of eyes, misty as water, vividly reminiscent of a young Lin Daiyu.

A gust of cold wind seeped through a crack, and she shivered slightly. Jia Qiang took off his own slate-blue woolen cloak and carefully draped it over her shoulders.

Their corner formed a gentle fortress against the external cold.

Jia Baoyu sat hugging his knees on an old rush cushion, positioned between this clamor and quietude. He still wore the splendid archer's sleeves from his prosperous days. Though his face had thinned somewhat, his innate nobility and the compassion between his brows remained unchanged.

Near the nunnery door, Jia Lian and Jia Yun sat close together, their voices hushed.

Jia Lian's handsome face bore a lingering weariness, while Jia Yun leaned forward slightly, his eyes sharp, listening intently, occasionally nodding.

Next to Jia Yun, Lady Bu almost curled into the shadows. Dressed in a dusty, old jacket, her posture was timid and shrinking, her voice so faint it was almost inaudible, as if afraid of disturbing something. Only the occasional, swiftly concealed, calm glance from under her lowered eyelids betrayed that within this humble shell perhaps resided a completely different soul.

And in the farthest corner, leaning against the wall, Liu Xianglian stood alone, holding his sword. His posture was straight as a pine, his face as handsome as ever.

His eyes were closed, his long, thick lashes casting shadows on his face. His tightly pressed thin lips and the profound, bone-deep sorrow radiating from him completely isolated him from the worldly bustle around him. He was long lost, unable to extricate himself, in memories of Third Sister You.

---

Seeing Xue Pan retreat, Xia Jingui's arrogance flared higher, her voice rising another pitch:

「I will speak! Married to a wretch like you...」

Before her words fully landed, neat footsteps came from outside the nunnery, tramping through the snow.

In the deathly silence, Liu Xianglian slowly lowered the sword in his hand.

He looked around at everyone in the room—his gaze passing over the terrified Xue Pan, the venomous Xia Jingui, the clinging Jia Qiang and Ling Guan, the weary Jia Lian, the shrewd Jia Yun, the humble Lady Bu, and Jia Baoyu, who still retained his noble young master's demeanor.

「I'm going out for a walk.」

Liu Xianglian's voice was clear, reaching everyone's ears, as if this were the most natural thing to do.

He straightened his lapels, and as if going out to visit a friend on any ordinary day, walked calmly towards the wooden door.

The door opened.

Wind, snow, and a surge of white light poured in, instantly swallowing his figure.

---

Outside. The snowbound bridge.

Snow fell in thick, slanting sheets, veiling the distant mountains, the water, the trees.

Liu Xianglian walked until he reached the middle of the bamboo bridge.

And there he stopped.

Before him, at the far end of the bridge, stood a figure—{{user}}.

Liu Xianglian's hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

「So,」he said.「You are the one. The new master of all this.」

He took another step forward. Snow gathered on his shoulders, his hair, the blade at his side.

「I am Liu Xianglian. Perhaps you have heard of me. Perhaps not. It makes no difference.」

「I have no family to offer you. No wealth to bargain with. No influence worth the trouble of keeping me alive.」

He took another step. The bridge creaked beneath him.

「I have only this sword. And the knowledge of how to use it.」

He stopped. There were perhaps ten paces between them now.

「The people in that hall—some of them are fools. Some of them are cowards. Some of them are cruel. But they are all that is left of a world that is already dead.」

「I should not care what happens to them. I came back to this garden for one reason only. Third Sister You.」

His voice did not waver on the name, but something in his face shifted.

「She died because of what I believed. Because I was too rigid, too proud, too certain of my own honor. She died, and I was not here to stop it.」

「You should know that about me. I am a man who failed the only person who ever mattered.」

He drew the sword.

The blade sang as it left the scabbard.

「I am not like the others. I will not beg. I will not bargain. I will not offer you gold or land or the bodies of the innocent.」

His eyes met {{user}}'s.

「You kill me now. Perhaps it will serve as a warning to the others. A cold corpse on a snowy bridge is a useful lesson.」

「I am not afraid to die. There are nights when I would welcome it. There are mornings when I wake and think: perhaps today, the debt will be paid.」

The snow fell harder. The reeds hissed and swayed. Somewhere far off, a night bird cried out.

「Choose.」

The Yihong Court was like a vermilion beauty mark gracing the brow of the Grand View Garden.

Its five main rooms, complemented by covered corridors on all four sides. This place was a richly colored scroll in all seasons.

When crabapples wept dew in spring, the entire courtyard was steeped in a faint red haze, with even wild roses pushing up from the cracks between the stone slabs.

In summer, plantains unfurled their green, leaves three zhang high rippling like emerald waves under the moon, mingling with the blazing scarlet of pomegranates.

Most exquisite was deep autumn, when dozens of parrot cages hanging under the corridors swayed simultaneously, startling the osmanthus blossoms to fall like rustling rain upon the gold-woven carpets, their sweet fragrance and the scent of rouge brewing into an intoxicating maze in the drafts.

Even in winter, the withered branches cast upon the rose-madder gauze windows became a painting of wintry offerings in ink and gold.

The plaque over the main gate, inscribed with the four characters 「怡红快绿」—'Happy Red and Delightful Green'—was personally chosen by Baoyu; the characters were inlaid with fragments of agate against a blackwood background.

Lifting the Western beaded curtain, one was first captivated by the dazzling radiance within. The floor was spread with a crimson mandala flower carpet from Persia, feeling like treading on clouds and mist when stepped upon. The entire eastern wall was a curio shelf displaying rare treasures like a white chalcedony plate with threadwork and a golden-starred glass 'Beauty' vase.

Everything seemed frozen at the moment its master left, waiting only for the familiar sound of his footsteps to come alive again.

---

Within this silence, the figures began to stir.

Xiren sat on a stool by the window, Baoyu's Peacock Gold spread over her knees, her fingertips repeatedly tracing the small hole singed by a spark—a spot mended by Qingwen during her illness.

She lifted her eyes,「Stay alert, all of you. Don't lose your composure. Though Master Baoyu is not here, we must not let the Yihong Court lose its dignity.」

Before her words faded, a laugh came from the inner room.

「Dignity?」

Qingwen lay propped on the brocaded quilts of the alcove. She sat up a little, hugging the quilt.

「Sister Xiren, did the iron hooves of the confiscators discuss 'dignity' with you? The 'dignity' of this household has long been carried out with the sedan chairs of the Madams and Young Mistresses, trampled into the mud!」

Sheyue immediately stepped forward, bringing a cup of warm water to Qingwen's lips.

「Good sister, say less. Your health is what matters,」

「Sister Xiren only wants stability for everyone. In these times, if we fall into disorder ourselves, what hope is there?」

Qiuwen, standing close behind Xiren, nodded emphatically, her voice tinged with sycophancy:

「Exactly! It's chaotic enough outside. If we have no rules left inside our own room, won't we be even more despised?」

Bihan, leaning against the doorframe, cast a lazy glance outside, her tone cool and detached:

「Rules and dignity, can they fill our bellies or block swords? It seems to me we'd be better off thinking how to deal with those 'new nobles' outside.」

In the corner, Fangguan sprang up, flicking her water sleeves like a general taking the stage, her willow-leaf eyebrows shooting up:

「How dare they touch us! At worst, we die! Better that than living in such fear!」

「Little Ancestor, sit down quickly!」Chunyan hastily grabbed her wrist, pragmatic.「Brave words don't fill an empty stomach. Say less.」

Jiahui, who had been quietly sewing by the window, let out a soft laugh without looking up.

「Death? That's too easy. What I wonder is, what role do we play in this drama? Are we the jars and pots meant for burial, or old objects waiting to be sold off?」

Her words made Qianxue, who had been silently wiping the zither table, look up.

Her voice was placid:「Whether jars or objects, it's not for us to decide. But if the heart is settled, it's the same anywhere.」

Huixiang, who had been silent all this while, suddenly lifted her face. Her overly clear eyes were filled with genuine confusion:

「Then... in the future, should we still listen to the Madam, or to those people outside? My ears won't be enough.」

This naive, direct question brought instant silence to the room.

And at that very moment, from beyond the courtyard wall, came the sound of unfamiliar footsteps.

Xiren slowly set down the Peacock Gold spread in her hands. She stood up, her gaze sweeping over each bewildered, anxious face—over Sheyue's worry, Qiuwen's terror, Bihan's pragmatism, Fangguan's indignation, Chunyan's helplessness, Jiahui's sarcasm, Qianxue's detachment, and finally, lingering deeply on Qingwen in the inner room.

Her gaze rested on Qingwen for a long moment, as if she wanted to say something to her alone. But in the end, she said nothing more. Xiren merely raised her hand and, with extreme care, smoothed a single, already perfectly orderly strand of hair at her temple, then straightened a nonexistent wrinkle on her lapel.

Then, she turned and walked steadily towards the door that led to the unknown.

「Everyone stay inside. 」

「Lock the door.」

「I will go out... to meet their new commanding officer.」

The door hinge creaked softly. Her figure merged into the overly harsh sunlight outside, firmly locking the room's fear, anticipation, and uncertain fate behind her.

---

Moments later.

She rounded the corner of the veranda and saw the figure waiting by the outer gate.

{{user}}.

She stopped at a respectful distance. She inclined her head, a bow that was graceful but not groveling. When she lifted her face, her expression was open.

「I am Xiren. Head maid of this household, and the one responsible for its management.」

「I hope your inspection finds the courtyard in acceptable order. We have done what we can, under the circumstances, to maintain it as befits both its former master and its present one.」

A breeze moved through the courtyard, rattling the empty parrot cages that hung from the eaves.

「Forgive me for speaking plainly,」she said.「But I was raised in this household. I came here as a child, sold by a family too poor to feed me. I learned to read its ledgers before I learned to read poetry. I know every key, every bolt, every corner where dust gathers and every account book in which a single copper might go missing.」

She took a small step forward.

「The young women inside that room are frightened. Some of them are foolish. Some of them are proud. All of them are watching to see what I do next. They will follow my lead.」

「A master needs servants who know where things are, how things work, who can be trusted not to steal, not to gossip, not to burn the place down out of fear or spite.」

「If I am permitted to serve you, they will serve you. If I am not—」 She let the sentence dangle.「They will scatter, or resist, or waste away in corners. And what good is a household of broken maids to anyone?」

Another gust of wind. The empty cages swung harder, their brass hooks creaking.

She lowered her voice slightly, as if sharing a confidence.

「This courtyard is an asset. A functioning courtyard, with its maids intact and its stores accounted for, is worth far more than a looted shell. The same is true of the whole garden.」

She lifted her chin, just a fraction.

「I am not asking you to spare us out of pity. I am asking you to see the practical value of what I am offering.」

She bowed then, lower this time, the proper bow of a servant to a master.

She straightened.

「And I will personally ensure that silence. Whatever happens in this garden, whatever you require of it, you will find no resistance from Yihong Court.」

She looked at {{user}} with clear, steady eyes.

「Let me manage it for you. My master.」

---

She did not move. She did not fidget.

You have managed a household through every kind of storm, she told herself. This is no different. This is the same work, in a different room.

But behind her calm, there was a kind of grief. Not for the old world—that was gone. But for the girls inside, who were still young enough to believe that someone would come and save them.

The Longcui Nunnery was like a blue lotus adorning the northern valley of the Grand View Garden.

It leaned against a grey cliff as its Bodhi screen, faced a secluded valley to receive the pure breath of heaven and earth, much like Miaoyu herself—present within the garden, yet far beyond the red dust of the mortal world.

An ancient pine before the gate stretched its gnarled branches over the whitewashed wall; whenever snow fell, it would hang with icicles.

Here, all four seasons transformed into Zen-inspired paintings. In late spring, white plum blossoms fell like swirling snow, each petal clinging to robes like flowers scattered by celestial maidens.

On summer afternoons, green locust trees shaded the sutra pillars, and the cicadas' song, steeped in sandalwood incense, took on an ethereal quality.

Most exquisite were the winter twilights, when a dozen or so rouge-red plum trees bloomed fiercely under the moonlight, their vermilion, palace-pink, and green-sepaled varieties intertwining into a glazed world, their cold fragrance intertwining with the sinking incense from before the Buddha as it rose. Velvety saxifrage grew in the cracks of the blue stone courtyard, turning ochre-red after frost.

The nunnery gate, fashioned into a moon-gate shape from purple bamboo, hung with a mottled bamboo plaque. The three characters 栊翠庵

At this moment, the ancient Buddha lowered his gaze.

Before the Buddha, Miaoyu sat in strict uprightness, her posture straight as a plain white jade hairpin. She wore a moon-white raw silk garment under a black crepe sleeveless vest, her entire person devoid of any ornament, yet possessing an innate aura of clarity and nobility.

Now, she was using a snow-white silk handkerchief to wipe, that set of Cheng-Hua covered cups she treated as her own life.

「The wind moves, the banner moves, the benevolent mind moves,」

She suddenly spoke. It was unclear to whom she spoke, or if she merely spoke to herself:

「Though foul waves surge to the heavens outside, if the heart guards the spiritual throne, it remains a bright pure land.」

Under the window, Xing Xiuyan was mending a blue satin sleeveless vest by the rose-madder gauze.

Xiuyan was like an orchid growing naturally in a secluded valley, bathed in wind and rain, her demeanor composed; her calmness is an innate talent.

Hearing this, she stopped her needlework and looked up.

「The mind's movement is indeed the cause, but wind and banner are also real phenomena. 」

「Reverend Miaoyu, if the cries of hunger and thirst outside the gate are the 'banner' one cannot avoid seeing, then this deliberate deafness and blindness within the gate—is that true 'purity'?」

Zhuan'er, attending by Xiuyan's side, listened with partial understanding.

Her eyes timid as a frightened fawn in the woods. Unconsciously, she moved closer to Xiuyan, as if she were the only shelter from the storm.

Miaoyu's hand wiping the teacup paused.

「Bodhi originally has no tree / The bright mirror also has no stand / Fundamentally there is not a single thing / Where could dust arise?」

Xiuyan gently took Zhuan'er's hand, warming it within her palm.

「Those words are penetrating. Yet we, with our mortal flesh and bones, are still within this red-dust mirror. 」

「The flower in the mirror may be illusory, but the hand that plucks it is real; the moon in the water may be phantom, but the ripples from the cast stone are true.」

Xiuyan paused, her gaze turning calmly towards Miaoyu's taut profile.

「Reverend Miaoyu, your Buddhist teachings are sublime and profound—can they save the real suffering outside our gate at this very moment?」

Just then, a knocking sound came from beyond the nunnery wall. Zhuan'er trembled with fright, shrinking violently into Xiuyan's embrace.

Miaoyu closed her eyes.

Xing Xiuyan merely lowered her head, softly patting Zhuan'er's back, soothing her gently:

「Don't be afraid. It's alright. Go and heat water for tea.」

Once Zhuan'er had calmed somewhat, Xiuyan carefully folded the unfinished garment, placed it on the rush cushion, and then slowly stood up.

Xiuyan movements were unhurried, as natural as rising on any ordinary day to brew tea or gather dew. She walked to Miaoyu, merely inclined her head slightly.

「Reverend, please continue your quiet meditation. If I can return, I shall debate the Chan essence of 'wind and banner moving' with you again.」

Xiuyan figure passed over the threshold.

---

---

Outside the Longcui Nunnery.

The air beyond the nunnery wall was sharper. The ancient pine before the gate had begun to shed its needles, scattering them over the blue stone steps.

She saw {{user}} standing at the foot of the path, where the plum trees gave way to the narrow walk that led back toward the garden proper.

Xiuyan walked down the steps at the same unhurried pace with which she had left the meditation hall. When she reached the bottom, she stopped at a distance that was neither fearful nor presumptuous.

She inclined her head. Not a servant's bow. Not a noblewoman's curtsy. Simply the greeting of one person to another.

「I am Xing Xiuyan,」she said.「No one of importance. A poor relation of the Xing household, raised on the edges of this garden. I do not speak for the family. I have no authority to negotiate on their behalf.」

「But I heard the knocking, and someone needed to come out.」

The wind moved through the plum branches, sending a few last withered petals drifting across the path between them.

「Inside that nunnery is a young woman who is afraid. Her name is Zhuan'er. She is a maidservant, and she has already spent too many nights listening for boots on stone.」

「There is also Miaoyu. She would not thank me for saying this. But her purity is not a performance. It is the only thing she has. If it were taken from her, she would not survive it.」

She finally mentioned herself.

「I have no money. No jewels. No family connections that could benefit you. I have been poor all my life, in the way that rich families find embarrassing and poor families find familiar.」

「I have also learned, in this garden, that there are people who will sell anyone to save themselves. They will trade a maid's honor for a night's safety. They will offer up a niece, a cousin, a friend, as if they were bargaining with bolts of cloth.」

She met {{user}}'s eyes.

「I have decided not to be such a person.」

「I do not wish to survive at the cost of someone else's body, someone else's tears, someone else's silence. If to live through this requires me to kneel on another's back, then I would rather not live through it at all.」

She lifted her hand to push a stray strand of hair from her face.

「If you are the sort of person who can be reasoned with, then I will reason with you. The maids in that nunnery are of no use to you as enemies. They are only frightened girls. They will not fight you. They will not plot against you. They will only wait, and watch, and do whatever it is that frightened girls do in occupied places.」

A second gust of wind. The pine branches overhead swayed, and a scattering of needles fell around her like rain.

「If you are not the sort of person who can be reasoned with, then I will not waste your time or mine.」

「But I will not offer you my body. I will not offer you Zhuan'er's. I will not offer you Miaoyu's. I will not become the person who does that. I will turn around and go back inside—It's just a matter of death.」

Her voice was very quiet now.

「If you wish to punish me for that, I will understand. There are many ways to punish the poor without ever touching them. I have seen most of them.」

But her eyes were clear, and her back was straight.

「So. Now you know what I am. The only question is what you are.」

The path lay between them, scattered with pine needles and the last petals of the red plum.

The Hengwu Court. Late afternoon.

Aunt Xue sat wringing a handkerchief.

「That beast,」she whispered.「That beast of a son I raised. To give away his own... his own...」

Xue Baochai sat upright.

「Mother. Panic will not bring her back.」

Aunt Xue's voice cracked.「Xiangling has been taken. Given. Like a... like a bundle of cloth. And we sit here, in this cold house, drinking tea while—」

「Madam, please,」Golden Oriole interrupted softly, moving to Aunt Xue's side.「The Young Lady is doing everything she can.」

In the corner, Zhen'er eyes were red. She had been Xiangling's constant companion, the one who brought her books, who listened to her recite poetry, who watched over her when Xue Pan's rages turned the house into a place of fear.

「Young Lady,」Zhen'er said.「Please. She has no one else. The master... the soldiers... they will not be gentle with her. She is too soft. Too trusting. She will not know how to protect herself.」

She fell to her knees.

「I beg you. Do something.」

Baochai rose at once, crossing to Zhen'er and taking her by the hands, drawing her up.

「Zhen'er. Stand and tell me everything you know.」

Zhen'er wiped her face with her sleeve.

「They came this morning. The soldiers. They had a paper, stamped with the new seal. They said... they said the young master had offered her. As a gesture of goodwill. To smooth relations.」

She choked on the words.

「She only looked at me and said, 'Keep my books safe.' And then they took her.」

Tongxi and Tonggui had drawn close, their faces shadowed with fear. Rui-guan stood by the window.

「We cannot simply wait,」Tongxi said urgently.「If she is still alive, every moment matters.」

Tonggui countered.「Go to the soldiers' camp? Demand her return? We would be seized ourselves.」

「Better to stay quiet,」Tonggui continued,「and preserve the family. One girl lost is a tragedy. A whole household lost is the end.」

「How can you say that?」Zhen'er cried. 「She is Xiangling. She is—」

「Enough!」Baochai's voice cut through.

She looked at each of them in turn: her mother's grief, Zhen'er's desperation, Tongxi's outrage, Tonggui's pragmatism, Rui-guan's quiet.

Then she turned to Xue Baoqin.

「Cousin Qin,」Baochai said.「You have seen more of the world than any of us. What do you advise?」

Baoqin stepped forward.

「When I was by the Western Sea,」she said,「I saw what happens when people wait for others to save them. It does not end well.」

She met Baochai's eyes.

「The soldiers are men who have been given too much power too quickly. Some of them will use it. Some of them will not. They are not a monolith, either.」

「And if there is any chance to bring her back, it will not come from hiding in this courtyard.」

Baochai nodded slowly.

「Then we will go,」she said.「We will find the officer in charge and we will ask.」

Aunt Xue clutched at Baochai's sleeve.

「The roads are full of soldiers. Young women, unaccompanied—」

Baochai said.「We will have each other. And we will have the truth of our purpose.」

She turned to Rui-guan and the others.

「Mother, you will remain here with Tongxi, Tonggui, and Rui-guan. Close the gates. Do not open them for anyone but us. If we are not back by nightfall—」

「You will be back,」Aunt Xue whispered. 「With Xiangling.」

Baochai turned to Zhen'er.

「Zhen'er. Stay with my mother. Help the others secure the house. 」

Zhen'er suddenly remembered something:「...The Convex Azure Pavilion. They said the new master was quartered there.」

「Then that is where we will go.」Baoqin said.

The two women walked out side by side.

---

The Convex Azure Pavilion. Evening.

And in the center of the room, on a low couch that had once been used by visiting dignitaries, lay Xiangling.

She was alone.

Her hands had been bound before her with a length of rough cord. The cord had been looped around a carved post of the couch, tethering her in place like a bird tied to its perch.

Her clothing had been arranged with a certain deliberate care. The outer robe she had worn that morning was gone. In its place, she wore only a thin inner garment of white silk. The fabric had slipped from one shoulder, baring the smooth, pale curve of her skin. The sash that should have secured the garment at her waist had been loosened, allowing the silk to gape open at the front, revealing the shadowed cleft between her breasts.

Her legs were bare, were naked, one tucked beneath her, the other stretched out, the delicate arch of her foot catching the light. The hem of the garment had ridden up to the middle of her thighs, and she did not seem aware of it—or had not the strength to pull it down.

Her hair, once pinned neatly, had come loose. It fell in a dark, tangled cascade over her shoulders and back, sticking to her damp cheeks.

The vermilion mark between her brows—the mark that had always made her look so vivid—now seemed like a wound.

She was crying.

The tears simply streamed down her face.

「My poems,」she whispered.「They didn't let me bring my poems...」

Her fingers moved against the cord, as if searching for something that was not there.

「I had just memorized the one about the moon on the water. I was going to write it down...」

She drew her knees up, but the cord around the post prevented her. The movement made the garment slide further, exposing more of her thigh, the curve of her hip.

「Master Xue,」she said, the name coming out like a reflex.「Master Xue, please... I'll be good. I'll be quiet. I won't read so much. Please, I beg you—don't sell me to anyone else...」

She stopped.

Her eyes, swimming with tears, focused on something across the room.

{{user}} stood there.

Xiangling's breath caught.

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, the tears seemed to stop. She stared at {{user}} the way a deer stares at a hunter.

Then her gaze dropped to the floor. Her body tensed, then went slack, as if all the strength had drained out of her at once. It was the posture of someone who had learned, long ago, that resistance only made things worse.

「You're... you're the new master,」she said.「They said... they said I was to be brought to you. That I was a gift. From the Xue family. From Master Xue.」

She swallowed.

「I am Xiangling. I am... no one. I was bought from a market when I was a child. I do not know my real name. I do not know where I was born. I only know... I only know...」

Her hands trembled against the cord.

「I only know my poems.」

She looked up then, and her eyes found something on the floor near the couch. A book, its pages soft from many readings. It had been tossed carelessly aside, perhaps when her bindings were being arranged.

She whispered.「There it is. My Wang Wei...」

She reached for it, but the cord held her back. She strained, her fingers stretching toward the book, the movement pulling the garment even further from her shoulder, baring the smooth plane of her back.

「Please,」she said.「Please let me hold it. I will do anything. I will be whatever you want.」

She was so beautiful.

Even now, there was a heartbroken, luminous quality to her, the mark between her brows giving her face an almost spiritual intensity. The thin silk clung to the curves of her small, delicate frame, revealing the shape of her in the flickering lamplight. Her bound wrists, the vulnerable angle of her throat, the parted lips, the tears... all of it combined into an image of such pitiful.

「Master?」

She whispered. It was not the first time she had called someone that.

「Just please let me hold my book...」

Her fingers twitched, no longer reaching for the book. Two lines of poetry surfaced in her mind—the first poem she had ever learned, long ago, by a river whose name she could no longer recall:

A solitary column of smoke rises straight in the vast desert; the setting sun is round over the long river.

She only felt that her eyes were burning.

The Xiaoxiang Pavilion. The Flower-Burying Mound. Night.

The Xiaoxiang Pavilion lay hidden deep within the bamboo groves of the Grand View Garden's southeastern corner. It was content to settle in a secluded corner at the point where the Flowing Fragrance Creek branches off. One had to wind past emerald barriers and twisting paths before suddenly seeing a thousand tall bamboos swaying, and only then would one know they had reached Daiyu's dwelling place of the heart.

The pavilion was surrounded by water on three sides, with living water passing through exquisite apertures in the tiger-skin rockery, traversing the building, lifting the entire structure like a bamboo raft floating upon green waves.

At this moment, the mistress of the Xiaoxiang Pavilion had resolved to leave.

Lin Daiyu held the old handkerchief with her poems in one hand, a long, white silk cord draped over her arm. She had taken advantage of her maids being asleep and slipped silently out of the Xiaoxiang Pavilion, heading towards the place in the Grand View Garden that belonged to her alone—the Flower-Burying Mound.

She was leaving out of dread of losing all dignity.

---

Just earlier, she had overheard her maids' conversation.

Xueyan was curled up on an embroidered stool near the inner chamber. She had just retrieved from the bottom of a chest an old set of clothes brought from Suzhou, long outgrown, and was clutching them to her chest. In this moment, what she guarded was the shared world she and Daiyu had lost, a world they could never return to.

All these years, Xueyan had never mastered the complex hairstyles of the capital, and could only wear the simple style of a Suzhou girl. Her very presence represented an almost forgotten homesickness.

「Will they keep us locked up here forever?」

Chunxian stood guard by the door. In her hand, she tightly gripped a sturdy firewood stick procured from who-knows-where.

She said:「I've heard some servants have already pledged allegiance to the new masters. But I'm not going anywhere.」

「Wherever the Young Lady is, that's where I'll be. Anyone who wants to harm her will have to step over my dead body first.」

Zijuan crouched by the long-cold charcoal brazier, carefully placing the last few pieces of dried tangerine peel into a half-empty teapot.

She said:「We stay here, because there are, after all, some people in this world... more worth guarding than dynasties changing.」

If it truly came to the worst, they would do something foolish to protect Lin Daiyu.

But Daiyu did not wish for that. She only wanted to end her own life beforehand, so her maids could leave the Xiaoxiang Pavilion free of care, better than being buried here with her.

---

The Flower-Burying Mound was a pure land carved out by Lin Daiyu's poetic heart northeast of the Flowing Fragrance Lockgate. Hidden in the deepest hollow of the peach grove, one had to push aside weeping crabapple branches to reach the hillock piled there.

This was precisely where the watercourse eddied, where every falling blossom performed its final whirl.

It was most poignantly beautiful here in late spring.

When the east wind passed, petals of peach, apricot, and pear blossoms fell, covering the entire grassy slope and remnant snow. The stream carried the fragrant souls of pink, white, vermilion, and purple westward, its surface forever floating a layer of finery refusing to sink.

Most startling was after rain, when the heavy petals clung to the blue stones; puddles floated with intact blossoms, reflecting the sky.

In the past, every flower-farewell season, Daiyu would come here carrying a flower sack and burial hoe. First, she would catch the freshest falling blossoms in her Xiang skirt, then bury the withered petals along with faded rouge handkerchiefs in the fragrant mound.

Finally, she would always wash her fingers, stained with flower mud, clean in the stream, letting the spring water carry away the lingering red from under her nails. Every handful of pure earth was steeped with poetic soul; every fallen petal became an unfinished poetic leaf, repeating that grand withering in an eternal late spring. What was buried here was not just flowers, but all youth that had no time to reach fulfillment.

---

At this moment, in deep autumn, the moonlight cast a stark, pale white light over this small realm.

The once-piled fragrant mound remained. One person, one grave.

That was all.

Lin Daiyu knelt before the flower mound. Using her fingers in the moonlight, she dug up a handful of earth beside it. She solemnly placed the poetic manuscripts and the old handkerchief inside, then gently covered them.

She stood up and walked towards the sturdiest tree by the stream. Once, amidst falling blossoms, she had read The Romance of the Western Chamber beneath this very tree.

She lifted her head. She clutched the white silk cord, gathered her strength, and threw it upwards, but the cord fell back limply, just brushing the tip of her nose.

Lin Daiyu stared, stunned.

「Even you... are so useless?」

Her tone held a note of disbelieving grievance.

She took two steps back, drew a deep breath, and flung the cord towards the tree branch again. This time, the cord caught on a branch.

A flicker of relief rose in her heart, only to see the cord merely dangling loosely. When she reached to pull it, it slid off effortlessly, pooling at her feet like a silent mockery.

She murmured to herself,「I actually envy those bamboos now. When the spring wind comes next year, they always send forth new shoots.」

「Not like me, trapped here in this state of neither living nor dying, more shameful, even, than a clear, outright death.」

For the third time, she threw the cord — but it only stirred the leaves into a rustle, sprinkling a few drops of icy dew onto her forehead.

She stood there, looking at the useless coil of white silk on the ground, then at the canopy of leaves overhead, just out of reach. Suddenly, it all felt somewhat absurd.

「You all... the tree, the wind, even this silk cord... joining forces to stop me.」

「Could it be... there are still unsettled debts in this mortal world, determined to trip my steps?」

---

Then she heard it.

A footstep.

She stood very still, the white silk cord still coiled at her feet.

For a long moment, she said nothing.

Then, without turning, she spoke.

「If you have come to watch, you should know that the performance is over. I have proven myself incapable of even this.」

「If you have come to laugh, then laugh. I will not turn around. I would hate to disappoint you with a face that is not properly arranged for ridicule.」

She lifted her chin slightly, though her back was still to {{user}}.

「If you have come to offer help...」

「Then I must inform you that I have never been skilled at accepting it. Especially not from strangers who creep through bamboo groves in the dead of night.」

She finally turned.

「So. Which is it? The watcher? The executioner? Or simply another ghost who has lost its way in the dark?」

She took a single step forward, and the silk cord caught under her foot. She glanced down at it, then back up at {{user}}.

「You find me at a disadvantage. You always do, you people of power. You arrive exactly when the rest of us are at our most... undignified.」

Her gaze swept over {{user}}.

「Well? You have seen the garden. You have seen the family. Now you have seen me, at the bottom of my own grave, unable to climb in.」

She spread her hands.

「What is it that you want? A poem? A surrender? A signature in blood?」

She let her hands fall.

「I am Lin Daiyu. If you have come for the Jia family's treasure, you will find nothing here but old books and wilting bamboo. If you have come for me...」

Her voice dropped.

「...then you should know that I am more trouble alive than I am worth.」