In November, the capital was already sunk in cold and gloom.
From early morning, clouds blanketed the sky, and the wind blew so bitterly that passers-by on the streets hunched their shoulders and hurried along.
A carriage stopped before a residence near the city gate, interrupting two girls who had been talking by the side door.
“Ban Qin.”
The maid who spotted her waved with a smile.
A girl dressed in fine embroidered garments stepped down from the carriage, lifted her hood, and smiled as well.
When she saw her coming, the young servant standing beside the maid immediately turned and walked away.
“Hey, I wasn’t finished talking yet,” the maid said in mild surprise. Watching the little servant’s retreating back, she called out again, “If you need something, find me at the shop – don’t come to the house.”
The little servant kept her head down; whether she heard or not was unclear. Her steps quickened, and she turned the corner, vanishing from sight.
“Is she a newly bought maid? Did I scare her off? Why did she run away?” the girl asked with a laugh, glancing toward where the little servant had disappeared.
“Yes, your fame as the Zhang family’s chef is too great – people find it terrifying,” the maid said with a teasing smile, linking arms with her. “She’s not a new maid, though. She came looking for Fourth Young Master – and she’s from Jiang-zhou, same as you.”
“She’s from Jiang-zhou?” the girl asked in surprise. “Who is she?”
“Quite a well-known one, actually,” the maid replied with a grin. “She’s the maid of the capital’s famed courtesan, Lady Zhu.”
The girl’s expression darkened at once.
“Sister, you mustn’t make light of such things. How could Fourth Young Master associate with a courtesan?” she said earnestly.
“Look at you – a Zhang family maid, and already so full of moral rectitude,” the maid said with a laugh.
“Sister, if word of this spreads, it’ll reflect poorly on Fourth Young Master. You know that as well as I do,” the girl insisted.
“Yes, yes, I know. Fourth Young Master has no dealings with Lady Zhu. This little maid doesn’t come often – she’s a Jiang-zhou girl who was kidnapped and sold years ago. She happened to meet Fourth Young Master two years back, but they’ve had no contact since. She only came this time because she heard he’s come to the capital and wanted to see him once, that’s all,” the maid explained.
The girl’s expression relaxed a little, though she still glanced toward the direction the little maid had run off.
“I can’t help feeling she ran away because she was scared of me,” she said.
“That’s what I told you – you frightened her,” the maid replied, tugging her inside and dropping the subject. “So, what brings you here today with free time to spare?”
“It’s all because the capital’s suddenly crawling with ‘Ban Qins.’ I, Zhang Ban Qin, have completely lost my use,” the girl huffed. “I’m so idle now I can’t even earn reward money – had no choice but to come here for a free meal.”
The maid burst into laughter, nearly doubling over as she pulled her inside.
Laughter still echoed behind the door long after it had closed.
By the wall at the far end of the alley, Chun Ling cautiously poked her head out, her face still pale with fright. She pressed a hand to her chest and bit her lip.
That Ban Qin… she’d seen her before.
Though several years had passed, who knew if she might still recognize her?
Chun Ling’s heart thudded in her chest. She raised a hand to her face.
She was twelve now – her features had grown, but the outline was still the same. She had to be careful.
If that girl recognized her… that sly, ruthless lady who had shown no mercy back then, who had left no way for her or her sister to live – she certainly wouldn’t spare her now.
It wasn’t death she feared, but dying for nothing.
Chun Ling glanced once more toward the residence and the carriage, then lifted her head. Cold dampness brushed her face.
It was snowing.
She lowered her head, tucked her hands into her sleeves, and hurried away.
“It’s snowing!”
Cheng Qi-niang lifted the carriage curtain and called out.
“Close it at once – it’s freezing!”
Second Madam Cheng shouted back, yanking the girl inside. She was clutching a hand warmer, her feet on a foot stove, yet her face was still pale from the cold.
“What a torment this is!” she exclaimed, then lifted the curtain again. “How much farther to the post station?”
“Madam, about five or six miles more,” a servant replied.
“Five or six miles more?”
Second Madam Cheng grew even more irritable, glaring at the thin horse pulling the carriage.
“I told you to get a better horse, but no one listens! In this bitter winter, even grown-ups can’t stand it – what about the children?” she said, dropping the curtain and shouting toward her husband inside the carriage.
Second Master Cheng was wrapped in a thick cloak, holding his young son in his arms; the two of them were peeking out with only their heads visible, laughing and playing together.
“And whose fault is that?” he said with a grin. “If you’d brought more money, we wouldn’t be in this fix – can’t even afford a decent horse.”
“I didn’t bring enough? Your elder brother’s wife wouldn’t give me more! What was I supposed to do, roll up my sleeves and rob her?” Second Madam Cheng snapped. The more she spoke, the angrier she became. “And that daughter of yours – she knew perfectly well we were heading to the capital, yet wouldn’t even send more money. That spendthrift Cao, throwing our family’s silver around like water – such a big matter, and he doesn’t even show his face!”
“I’ll deal with him later,” Second Master Cheng said. “The Zhou family’s only been bold because they’ve got that fool on their leash. Once we’ve settled in the capital, we’ll see how much longer the Zhous have anything to say.”
Second Madam Cheng nodded, her impatience to reach the capital growing all the more.
“When we reach the post station, we’ll swap for good post horses – and those won’t cost a thing,” she said.
“Nonsense. You think they’ll just let us use post horses?” Second Master Cheng shook his head, ignoring her and going back to teasing the child in his arms. “Be good, Xi Ge’er – ride a big horse, go to the capital, buy sweets, and live in a grand house…”
The child burst into giggles, and Cheng Qi-niang squeezed over, tugging at her father’s arm.
“…I want to live in a big house too… and buy new dresses and shiny jewelry…” she said.
“All right, all right, we’ll buy them – we’ll buy everything,” Second Master Cheng laughed heartily, surrounded by his children. “I’d buy you the stars in the sky if I could.”
Second Madam Cheng watched father and children laughing together and couldn’t help smiling as well, slipping another foot stove under his feet.
By the time dusk fell, they finally reached the post station.
It wasn’t a large one, but unlike most others – worn and shabby from years of use – this one was clearly newly rebuilt.
“It was burned down in a fire some time ago,” the gate guard explained as he accepted the travel warrant from Second Master Cheng and his party. “The court allocated funds to have it rebuilt.”
He glanced over the documents, then looked embarrassed.
“I’m terribly sorry, my lord, but there’s only one guest room left.”
“One guest room?”
Second Madam Cheng turned around to look at their entourage – three daughters, one son, two concubines, plus seven or eight maids and attendants, and over a dozen servants and guards – crowding the courtyard of the post station until it was packed to the brim. Her head began to ache just looking at them.
“How can there be no rooms? It’s about to snow – are we all supposed to cram into a single chamber?” she cried.
“At least three more rooms need to be freed up,” Second Master Cheng said, his face darkening. He gave his travel document a sharp shake, as if to remind the dim-witted post guard to look carefully at the rank and identity written there.
“…An official from the Grand Court of Revision? So what? What, is he planning to drive everyone else out?”
The postmaster, having received the report, said irritably, pointing toward the wind and snow outside.
“Have they forgotten how the last post station got burned down? Do they want to stir up trouble and set another one on fire?”
The guard quickly nodded.
“Exactly – he’s just throwing his official weight around,” he added.
Meaning, of course, that the man hadn’t even been willing to pay extra.
The postmaster’s disdain deepened.
“‘No rooms,’ he says…”
“‘Isn’t this a post station?’”
“‘We have an official travel warrant – why can’t we stay here?’”
He mimicked their complaints under his breath, sneering as he did so.
The post station was in an uproar. The child in the wet nurse’s arms was crying, and the young women leaning against the concubines were shivering, drawing the attention of everyone inside and out.
At one of the crowded tables in the main hall, a man snorted.
“Officials these days care less and less for proper conduct. So he has an official warrant – but do his wife and children have them too?” a young man said, clearly displeased.
The older man across from him said nothing, only raised a hand to quiet him, and the young man fell silent.
“…Our master is of the Cheng family… on his way to the Grand Court of Revision…”
A voice suddenly came from outside.
“An official like that, going to the Grand Court of Revision?” the young man said with a mocking laugh. But before his words had fully fallen, the sound of chairs scraping came from behind – someone had stood up.
They instinctively turned to look and saw several soldiers escorting a fair-faced, slightly plump middle-aged man.
“All this noise – what sort of decorum is this?” the man said, shaking his head as he strode toward the door. His guards immediately followed.
“The Imperial Envoy is stepping in,” the older man murmured quietly.
Many in the hall turned their eyes toward the man, their faces showing faint excitement.
He hadn’t arrived long ago, but when he first entered, his guards had announced him in a loud voice – everyone knew he was an Imperial Envoy sent from the capital under the Emperor’s command. Though he had declared his identity, he’d conducted himself with notable restraint, taking only one upper room and letting his guards sleep together in a shared quarters. Now, as he stepped forward from his meal of plain wine and simple dishes, everyone realized they were about to witness something rare – like a scene from the operas, where the upright lord investigates and punishes corrupt officials.
People in the hall couldn’t help standing up, eager to follow him out and watch the drama unfold.
“…Well then, my lord, what do you suggest we do?”
The post guard at the entrance, unaware that anyone had come out, drawled lazily at Second Master Cheng’s party, “Shall we drive all the common folk out, then?”
“Watch your tongue!”
A stern voice rang out behind him. The guard jumped, whirling around – and when he saw who was approaching, he immediately bent low.
“M-my lord, it wasn’t me who wanted to do this – it’s this gentleman here insisting…” he said at once, his tone aggrieved.
Second Master Cheng was so furious he nearly jumped to his feet.
People often said petty clerks were the hardest to deal with – and though he’d served as an official for many years and endured his share of bullying from underlings, he had never imagined that even a mere post station guard on the road would dare to slander and frame him like this.
“You–” He raised a finger, ready to curse the man out – but someone else spoke first.
“To incite the common folk and threaten an officer of the court – a crime punishable by death!” the man thundered. As he spoke, he raised his hand and struck the guard across the face.
The blow nearly sent the guard sprawling. Before he could utter a word, the man turned and strode toward Second Master Cheng, bowing respectfully.
“So it is Master Cheng,” he said. “My apologies – I did not recognize you.”
The onlookers crowding the doorway quickly dispersed amid murmurs and laughter – of course, they had known all along that such scenes only ever happened on the opera stage.
Still, seeing the Imperial Envoy treat that man with such deference left them wondering – just how powerful was he?
While the crowd whispered and speculated, the Envoy had already turned to harshly reprimand the postmaster who came rushing over.
“Yes, yes, my lord, don’t worry – I’ll see to it at once,” the postmaster said, nodding repeatedly before hurrying to personally lead Second Madam Cheng and the others toward the back.
Second Master Cheng, having regained his dignity, looked far more at ease now.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the honor of your name, my lord…” he said with a courteous bow.
“I am Su Jingwen, attached to the Imperial Archives,” the man replied with a polite smile.
“So it’s Clerk Su!” Master Cheng exclaimed, returning the salute with delighted respect.
As expected – being an official bound for the capital did have its advantages; even a casual encounter could mean rubbing shoulders with someone from the Imperial Archives itself.
“Are you returning to the capital from official business?” he asked.
“I was sent to Maoping to inspect the disaster relief efforts,” Su Jingwen said with a genial laugh, reaching out to take Second Master Cheng’s arm. “Master Cheng, come – let’s talk inside.”
As he turned toward the hall, his guards immediately pivoted to follow, their faces hardening.
“Clear the way!” they barked. “The lords are discussing official matters – all idlers, step aside!”
The reason given was flawless, leaving no room for objection.
In a flurry of commotion, a dozen people were driven out, five tables were cleared, and Second Master Cheng was seated at Clerk Su’s table, while the rest of the Cheng family took the remaining ones.
Those left in the room dared not voice their anger. The young man who tried to stand was quickly pressed back down by the elder beside him.
“Father…” the young man muttered, frowning.
“It’s unreasonable – but justified,” the elder said quietly.
Both turned to glance over, seeing that Second Master Cheng was already drinking and chatting cheerfully with Clerk Su; now and then their words carried across the room.
“…Forgive my poor eyesight – I did not recognize Clerk Su…”
“…It’s no surprise if you do not recognize me, but if I failed to recognize you, that would be quite strange indeed.”
“…Oh? How so?”
“…You have rendered great service to the realm.”
“…Clerk Su jests. I’ve merely done my duty out in the provinces – I wouldn’t dare claim any merit.”
“…Your noble daughter spoke up to clear her sworn brother’s name, and her petition reached His Majesty himself…”
“…Ashamed, ashamed – it was all the foolishness of my little girl… I am going to the Emperor precisely to confess her offense in person…”
Hearing this, the elder and the young man exchanged a glance – and in each other’s eyes, they both saw sudden understanding.
“…Ah, Lady Cheng also presented the Divine Arm Bow, a weapon of unmatched power and great service to the realm. So then, as her father, Master Cheng – who raised and nurtured her – have you not also rendered great service to the state?”
Laughter erupted, drawing glances from everyone in the hall.
Second Master Cheng’s laughter rang loudest; face flushed with pride, he lifted his cup and drained it in one go.
“Come, come, Master Cheng – let me refill your cup,” said one of the guards with a smile, taking up the wine pot and pouring it himself.
“Ah, I wouldn’t dare, wouldn’t dare,” Second Master Cheng said – though he made no move to refuse. Watching the armored guard pour his wine, he couldn’t help the look of smug delight spreading across his face.
See that? This was no ordinary soldier – this was one of the Imperial Guard, a personal retainer of His Majesty himself, pouring him wine.
What greater proof could there be of how vast the gulf was between provincial officials and those favored in the capital?
From this day on, my future would be boundless – as wide as the sea and sky.
After food and drink, weary from travel and slightly tipsy, Second Master Cheng took his leave and went to rest in their room.
Once he had gone, Clerk Su and his attendants also withdrew to their quarters.
Only then were the people who had been freezing outside allowed to crowd back into the hall, where they gathered in lively groups, all abuzz with speculation about this Master Cheng who even the Imperial Envoy treated with such respect.
“…But of course,” someone said knowingly. “Didn’t you hear the Envoy call him Cheng? And he’s got a daughter who rendered great service to the realm.”
That remark drew everyone’s attention at once.
“A daughter who brought merit to the empire – now that’s remarkable.”
“…She’s said to be a direct disciple of the Daoist Patriarch, True Master Li himself…”
“…A disciple of an immortal? Then she must be a fairy!”
“…No wonder the Envoy treated him with such reverence…”
As the talk and gossip in the hall grew ever more ridiculous, the young man could no longer bear to listen.
“Father, let’s go back to our room,” he said quietly.
The elder nodded. The two of them rose and cupped their hands to a plainly dressed, thin middle-aged man sitting alone at their table.
“Sir, we’ll take our leave for the night,” the young man said politely.
“Please,” the man replied, returning the gesture.
“Sir, if you don’t have a place to stay, why not share a room with us?” the young man offered.
The man shook his head, picked up a small dish from before him and ate slowly, then gestured toward the corner of the room where a few common folk were lying or sitting on the floor.
“They’ll sleep here – and so will I,” he said.
“Then we’ll take our leave,” the elder said, walking a few steps before leaning toward the young man and whispering, “Yuanchao, go settle the bill for that gentleman’s wine.”
It turned out that the pair were Han Yuanchao and his father.
This time, Master Han was traveling to the capital for an audience after receiving a promotion, while Han Yuanchao was going to take the imperial examinations – father and son journeying together.
Han Yuanchao hesitated for a moment, then shook his head.
“I don’t think that gentleman would accept,” he said softly, glancing back at the man sitting alone.
Though they had shared a table that evening, none of the three were talkative; aside from a few polite exchanges, they had barely spoken at all.
They only knew that the man must be an official traveling to the capital, but where he came from or what post he held, they had no idea – and, out of courtesy, father and son had not asked or speculated.
Judging by appearances, his rank couldn’t be high; otherwise, in this fawning and hierarchical post station, he would never have been left without a room.
Yet from his demeanor – so calm, so quietly dignified – it was clear he was a man of principle, one who would never accept favors without cause.
Master Han nodded in agreement, gave one last glance at the middle-aged man who still seemed to be listening with mild interest to the lively chatter in the hall, and then turned to leave.
The night passed without incident.
Fortunately, by the next morning the snow had stopped. The snowfall had not been heavy, and the roads were still passable; the post station was bustling from early dawn.
Seeing that fresh horses had been harnessed to their carriage, Second Master Cheng felt both excitement and unease.
“Th-this… how could I possibly make use of post horses? I’m only traveling to the capital with my family – it’s not a matter of state,” he protested repeatedly.
Clerk Su smiled and took his arm.
“Are you not entering the capital to report for duty? Is that not official business?” he said with a laugh. “It’s by imperial decree itself – how could that not be an affair of the state?”
Second Master Cheng laughed heartily at that, clapping Clerk Su’s arm.
“Then I must thank you for your great kindness, my lord,” he said.
Watching the lively Cheng family depart, Clerk Su stood still for a moment.
“Bah,” one of the guards spat under his breath. “That fool doesn’t know his place. My lord showed him courtesy, and he actually took it as license to get familiar – who does he think he is, patting your arm like that?”
The faint smile on Clerk Su’s face did not fade.
“No matter what sort of man he is, Master Gao instructed us to look after him,” he said lightly. “We happened to cross paths – naturally, we couldn’t disregard Master Gao’s request.”
“Still, Master Gao himself – why would he go out of his way to favor someone like that?” the guard said with a frown, baffled. “It’s far too much credit for him.”
“Credit, yes – but if he’s never lifted up, how can he fall?” Clerk Su replied with a soft laugh. “Didn’t you notice how several tables’ worth of faces in the hall soured last night?”
The guard let out an ah of realization, then chuckled.
“So that’s why you drove the common folk out right in front of them,” he said. “I was worried for you, my lord – those men didn’t look easy to deal with, and some of them were officials too.”
“What of it? A few mocking words or scoldings mean nothing to me,” Clerk Su said with a smile. “But what I can tolerate, not everyone can.”
With that, he turned.
“All right, let’s be on our way as well. Since the post horses have been given to Master Cheng, we’ll do without – we wouldn’t want to be the ones delaying the empire’s important affairs.”
“Yes, my lord,” the guard replied.
Because of what had happened the previous day, the post station was crowded with onlookers when Second Master Cheng’s party departed.
People gathered in awe, curiosity, and amazement, eager to catch a glimpse of the man said to be the father of an immortal’s disciple. The commotion at the gate was a noisy chaos.
The Han father and son had to wait until the crowd dispersed before they could come out. Just as they were leading their horses, they saw the man who had shared their table the night before emerging as well – three thin horses, two young attendants, a single travel bundle: a simple, lonely sight.
He stood outside the post station, watching the Cheng family’s carriages fade into the distance, his expression dark and cold.
“Well then… what a fine Master Cheng, a man of ‘great service to the realm,’” he said slowly. “Bold enough to drive common folk into the snow at night, bold enough to have the Emperor’s own guards pour his wine, bold enough to use post horses to carry his family’s carriage. A fine Master Cheng, indeed. And a fine Lady Cheng, the so-called ‘servant of the realm.’”
