On the eighteenth day of the first month, the mountain gate grew lively early in the morning. Princess Taiping had spent lavishly to host a night banquet, intending to rival the grandeur of the capital’s Lantern Festival celebrations. Regrettably, the affair had turned bloody — four people were dead — and the people at the villa were all deeply unsettled, with no one in any mood to enjoy the festivities.
Everyone had spent several agonizing days trapped on the snowy mountain. Now that the road was finally open, guests and host alike let out a long breath of relief. They rushed to harness their carriages and descend, afraid that if they lingered a moment too long, bad fortune might catch up with them again.
At the gate of the mountain villa, carriages and horses stretched out like a great dragon, and servants from every household were calling to one another, each scrambling to get ahead. The attendants of the Ming household were steadily loading things onto the carriage. Ming Huashang, wrapped in a cloak, was bidding farewell to the other guests.
Ming Huazhang said to Jiang Ling, “We have imposed on Young Heir Jiang these past several days. Many thanks!”
Jiang Ling, seated in his carriage, waved his hand with a sweeping air. “Think nothing of it. Such a pity that the good wine I brought is still unopened. When the next occasion presents itself, perhaps we could—”
Ming Huashang heard this and immediately changed the subject. “Look, there’s an opening up ahead! Young Heir Jiang, you had better go quickly — if you wait any longer, the road will be blocked again!”
Jiang Ling hurriedly craned his neck to look. “Quickly, quickly — hold that opening, don’t let anyone cut past us! All right then, I’ll go first — when you’re back in the capital, you must come to the Marquis Jiang’an’s estate for wine!”
Ming Huashang made agreeable sounds in reply, paying no real attention to what he had said. Bao Bao poked its head out from beside Jiang Ling, looking back with curious eyes. The reluctance on Ming Huashang’s face became far more genuine at the sight of it. She waved energetically, and even after the Jiang family carriage had vanished from view, she still wore an expression of longing.
Ming Huazhang asked, “Do you truly intend to go to the Marquis Jiang’an’s estate?”
Ming Huashang gave Ming Huazhang a look of genuine puzzlement. “No. Second Elder Brother — why would you even ask something like that?”
Ming Huazhang sighed. “A person of integrity keeps his word. If you had no intention of going, why agree to it at all?”
Ming Huashang pulled her wrappings a little tighter, her dark eyes the picture of innocence. “If I hadn’t said something like that, would he have gone?”
Ming Huazhang found himself entirely without a reply to that. The sound of horse hooves drew near in a steady rhythm. Ming Huashang and Ming Huazhang both turned back to see Ren Yao leading her horse over.
Ren Yao was dressed in sharp, practical riding clothes in the northern style, with protective wrappings tied at her arms and shins — valiant and spirited, her gender nearly impossible to determine at a glance. Her manner was equally masculine. She gripped the reins, cupped her fist in a brief salute to the siblings, and said, “All banquets must end. I’ll be off — farewell!”
Ming Huazhang returned the salute in kind. Ming Huashang smiled and called out, “Ren Jiejie — remember the noodle soup at Tang Shi Ji!”
Ren Yao swung herself up onto her horse’s back in one fluid motion, waved a hand in Ming Huashang’s direction without turning around, and said with breezy ease, “I remember.”
With that, she gave a sharp cry, and her fine horse shot forward like an arrow loosed from the string — charging recklessly ahead through the packed snow and the congested road of carriages and horses, not the least bit concerned about the danger.
Whether she did it on purpose was impossible to say, but Ren Yao’s horse brushed past Jiang Ling’s carriage as it flew by, sending a scoopful of snow straight through the carriage window.
Jiang Ling yanked up the curtain, cursing furiously. “Who was that?! Who just got snow down the back of my neck?!”
Ming Huashang watched Ren Yao gallop away — free, fierce, and brilliant — and her eyes filled with envy.
She turned her head, blinked several times, and said tentatively, “Second Elder Brother — can I also…”
“No.” Ming Huazhang cut off Ming Huashang’s wishful thinking without mercy. “With that half-baked horsemanship of yours, you can barely manage riding on flat ground, and you want to ride a horse on a snowy mountain? Go and get in the carriage.”
“Oh.”
Ming Huashang acquiesced, deflated. Then a soft laugh came from behind, followed by a voice. “With this many carriages on the road, aside from someone like Miss Ren — a daughter of a military family through and through — no horse could go quickly anyway. As for Second Younger Sister wishing to ride — what difficulty is there in that? My horse is very gentle and can navigate mountain paths on its own; the rider need only hold the reins. If Second Younger Sister wishes to ride, she is welcome to ride my horse, and I will take the carriage in her place.”
The smile on Ming Huashang’s face went slightly stiff, and she found herself at a complete loss.
Actually — that really was not necessary.
Ming Huazhang cast a look of undisguised disdain at Xie Jichuan. “Go away. You’ve got some nerve saying that.”
Xie Jichuan was still smiling cheerfully. “I have known this younger sister for many years and still do not know her name. Might I ask what name the younger sister goes by — and does she have a courtesy name?”
Ming Huazhang did not even bother to give him a roll of his eyes this time. He looked down at Ming Huashang and said, “Second Miss, go to the carriage first. We will set off shortly.”
Ming Huashang responded sweetly, gave Xie Jichuan a smile, and lifted her skirts to step up into the carriage. Once the carriage curtain was closed, the sounds outside took on a slightly muffled quality — drifting, like the white winter light of today’s sun.
Ming Huazhang’s tone had not been particularly warm, but then it was understandable. An unmarried young woman’s given name was not to be shared outside the family. Xie Jichuan directly asking an unmarried girl her name was, if one were being strict about it, a somewhat forward thing to do.
But if one were not being strict about it, it was actually quite ordinary. After all, most people in the world were reasonable and did not go around invoking propriety at every turn. Many families had close ties across generations, and young ladies and gentlemen would exchange names and address each other as siblings. Xie Jichuan was a friend of Ming Huazhang’s, and asking a friend’s younger sister her name in private was not out of bounds.
Ming Huashang leaned against the side of the carriage, listening to the distant clamor of shouts and the creaking of wheels, lost in her own thoughts.
They had stayed at the Feihong Garden for several days, and yet Xie Jichuan had only now asked her name as they were about to leave. The reasons behind this she could more or less guess.
It was nothing more than the fact that before now, Xie Jichuan had not given her a second thought. His kindness and consideration toward her had existed only because she was Ming Huazhang’s younger sister. But now he had discovered that Ming Huashang was not merely a delicate, sheltered young lady — that she had, at least, some qualities worth noting. Only now had Xie Jichuan truly looked at her — and decided she was worth remembering by name.
Ming Huashang fell into a daze. When she came back to herself, she realized the carriage had begun to move. Xie Jichuan was standing by the roadside, his voice warm with a smile as he called to them, “Jingzhan, Second Younger Sister — take care on the road. I will see you in the capital.”
Ming Huazhang could afford to ignore Xie Jichuan, but Ming Huashang could not be discourteous. She lifted the carriage curtain, pressed her hands together in a bow toward Xie Jichuan, and said, “Xie Elder Brother — goodbye.”
Xie Jichuan gave her a slight smile. The young man stood among white snow and green pines, watching them go.
The Ming family’s carriage grew smaller and smaller in the distance, and the smile at the corners of Xie Jichuan’s mouth slowly faded. He watched for a long time the dark violet shadow at the edge of the carriage, and found himself unexpectedly thinking back to the words from that night.
Ming Huazhang had wanted Princess Taiping to take action. But a princess of such stature would not concern herself with the lives of common people — why would she fall out with her own husband’s household over a few maidservants?
If Ming Huazhang truly wished to avenge those three women and bring the killer to justice, he would have to reveal the connection to Prince Luling. Only if Princess Taiping learned that all of these events had been directed at Prince Luling would she investigate the matter to its very end.
But once he became entangled in the struggle between the Wu clan and Prince Luling, Ming Huazhang would no longer be able to remain uninvolved.
Such a straightforward calculation — they both understood it clearly. Xie Jichuan was silent for a long moment before asking, “Jingzhan, once you involve yourself in these things, there is no withdrawing. Do you truly mean to wade into these murky waters?”
Ming Huazhang answered with equal calm. “I never had a choice.”
---
The mountain villa receded further and further behind them, and Xie Jichuan’s figure was no longer visible. Ming Huashang let down the carriage curtain and leaned against the side, feeling at something of a loose end.
Zhao Cai, reading her expression, said knowingly, “Young Miss, are you hungry?”
Ming Huashang’s eyes snapped open wide in an instant. “How did you know?”
“I prepared it ages ago.” Zhao Cai reached under the carriage seat with practiced ease and produced a box of pastries. “This is an eight-delicacies box — all sorts of flavors. Would you like to try, Young Miss?”
Ming Huashang agreed with delight. Zhao Cai lifted the lid and held the box out to her. Among the pastries was one shaped like a white circle with a black dot in the center — at first glance, it looked remarkably like an eyeball.