Glowing lanterns adorned the courtyard, and moonlight washed over the steps.
Shen Ling'er stood at the entrance to the Clear Frost Courtyard, carrying a bowl of snow fungus soup.
Biyu was sweeping fallen leaves. When she saw Shen Ling'er, her broom hung in midair as she bowed.
"Madam Shen."
Shen Ling'er was dressed plainly today, with only a silver hairpin in her hair. Steam rose from the porcelain bowl in her hands, carrying the soup's sweetness and the delicate bitterness of lily bulbs.
"Is Sister Su here?"
Biyu's gaze stayed fixed on the bowl. She pressed her lips together but didn't step aside.
Shen Ling'er smiled and held the bowl a little farther forward.
"Don't worry, I didn't put any drugs in it."
Biyu's mouth twitched. She seemed about to speak, but swallowed her words.
The rustle of pages came from inside. A few breaths later, Su Yao's voice floated out from behind the door.
"Let her in."
It was hoarse.
Usually, every word Su Yao spoke landed with a ring. Today, her voice sounded as though it had been wrapped in cotton.
Biyu stepped aside.
Shen Ling'er crossed the threshold.
Su Yao sat behind her writing desk, a light-colored outer robe draped over her shoulders. Her hair was gathered in a looser bun than usual.
She didn't offer Shen Ling'er a seat.
Shen Ling'er was in no hurry. She set the soup on the corner of the desk.
"I heard your throat was bothering you, Sister Su?"
Su Yao picked up the herbal tea on the desk and took a sip to moisten her throat.
"Did you come to take my pulse?"
Hearing her voice, Shen Ling'er tasted bitterness at the back of her tongue. Su Yao's fluids were depleted, and her throat was bound to be red. If this dragged on for another two days, even eating would hurt.
She didn't say so outright.
"If I'd really come to take your pulse, I'd have brought my medicine chest."
Standing by the desk, she caught sight of the dense annotations covering the book's pages.
Su Yao closed the book.
"What is it?"
Shen Ling'er took a small brown pill from her sleeve and placed it beside the bowl.
"A throat-soothing pill, made from my grandfather's prescription. Just let it dissolve in your mouth."
Su Yao didn't take it.
Steam drifted from the bowl, carrying the scent of lily bulbs all the way across the desk.
Shen Ling'er pressed her no further and changed the subject.
"Do you know about tomorrow's poetry gathering, Sister Su?"
"I do."
Her voice was so hoarse on those two words that even she paused.
Shen Ling'er continued naturally.
"Then do you think our husband will go?"
Su Yao didn't answer.
Shen Ling'er went on.
"I bet he will, and not just to watch the fun."
Su Yao raised her eyes.
"You know him that well?"
Though her voice was hoarse, the question struck true.
She wasn't asking for a fact; she was drawing a line.
Shen Ling'er picked up an empty cup nearby and poured herself half a cup of tea. It tasted bitter, but she didn't frown.
"No."
Su Yao watched her.
Shen Ling'er put down the cup.
"But I know he's not what he appears to be."
She paused.
"You know that too, don't you, Sister Su?"
Su Yao tapped her fingers twice on the edge of the desk.
She didn't deny it.
Her gaze fell on the bowl of soup. Moisture had beaded along the edge of its lid, then slipped down the porcelain sides.
"Is that all you came to say tonight?"
"One more thing."
Shen Ling'er lifted the lid, releasing a wave of sweet fragrance.
"Ye Qingyun will be at the poetry gathering tomorrow."
Su Yao's fingers rested motionless on the cover of the book.
Shen Ling'er looked down at the steam, not at Su Yao's face.
"I don't know what you think, Sister Su, and I won't ask about you and Ye Qingyun."
"But His Highness has looked a little tired these past few days."
Two breaths passed before Su Yao spoke.
"Did he send you to say that?"
"No."
Shen Ling'er answered at once.
"If he knew I'd come to the Clear Frost Courtyard, he'd probably say I was meddling."
Su Yao watched her for several breaths.
"Then why did you come?"
Shen Ling'er put the porcelain spoon in the soup and gave it a gentle stir.
"I don't like people taking my medicine furnace, and I don't like people taking someone I've set my heart on."
She rested the spoon against the rim of the bowl.
"But I don't want to make enemies and cause trouble for our husband, either."
Biyu's hand trembled as she listened by the door.
Su Yao rose from her chair and looked at Shen Ling'er across the desk.
"Shen Ling'er, are you saying all this in front of me to show how magnanimous you are?"
Shen Ling'er tilted her head.
"You've been angry for days, Sister Su, but I haven't seen you actually make a move against me."
The room fell silent.
Su Yao spat out a cold command.
"Get out."
Shen Ling'er bowed briskly and retreated faster than she'd come in.
At the door, she stopped again.
"Drink the soup while it's hot. Lily bulbs soothe the throat, and I didn't put much sugar in."
She didn't mention the pill.
Su Yao didn't reply.
Shen Ling'er left the Clear Frost Courtyard. Biyu closed the door and hurried back into the room.
"Miss, this soup..."
Su Yao looked at the desk. The snow fungus soup was on the left, the pill on the right.
After a long while, she spoke.
"Bring it here."
Biyu carried the bowl over.
Su Yao picked up the pill first and tossed it into her mouth.
The pill's coating dissolved on her tongue. A bitter, pungent taste hit her first, followed by a coolness that traveled down her throat, settling over the red and swollen places.
Her throat eased.
She scooped up a spoonful of soup and put it in her mouth.
It was only faintly sweet, and the delicate bitterness of lily bulbs lingered on her tongue.
Biyu asked quietly, "Miss, Madam Shen..."
Su Yao put down the spoon, her gaze falling on the few branches of white plum blossoms outside the window.
"A clever woman."
The study.
Gu Moran spread out three small maps of the terrain, while the undercover agents Boss Zhao had sent gathered around the desk.
He pointed his brush at the teahouse outside the Hanlin Academy.
"First location: keep an eye on the Second Prince's people, especially the attendants around Xu Wenli."
"If anyone passes a note in the half hour before the poetry gathering, take note of the person who delivers it."
The agents nodded.
The brush tip moved to the back alley.
"Second location: watch Ye Qingyun's book attendant. He's young and loose-lipped, the most likely to let something slip."
The brush moved again, to the carriage parking area on the east side.
"Third location: watch the chancellor's spies. Don't stop them or alert them. Just see who they send their information to."
One agent asked in a low voice.
"Your Highness, what if Ye Qingyun approaches Madam Su in private?"
Gu Moran raised a hand and rolled up the maps.
"He won't have the chance."
"What if he gets around the prince's residence's people..."
Gu Moran looked at him.
There was no particular anger in that look, nor any killing intent.
He simply looked at him.
The agent's voice sank, the rest of his sentence fading in his throat before it could come out.
Gu Moran waited two breaths, then pushed the rolled-up maps to the corner of the desk.
"Don't make a move tomorrow, and don't try to be heroes."
He raised his eyes and swept his gaze over the three of them.
"Anyone who makes a move at the poetry gathering will only be handing someone else a knife."
After the agents withdrew, Uncle Fu entered carrying a tray. Bamboo-green dress fabric lay folded on it, its subtle pattern so subdued under the lamplight that it was impossible to make out without a close look.
"Your Highness, Madam Xie's dress has been finished in time. She can wear it tomorrow morning."
Gu Moran reached out and felt the edge of the fabric.
It had a fine, dense texture, wasn't slippery, and didn't draw the eye.
"Good."
"What about the hair ornaments?"
"A jade hairpin, no gold ones. Small pearl earrings."
Uncle Fu made a note of it, then asked another question.
"How many carriages and horses should we arrange?"
Gu Moran thought for a moment.
"One carriage for Xie Wanqing. If Su Yao goes, prepare another."
He paused.
"Shen Ling'er will probably come along to watch the fun. Prepare a third for her."
Uncle Fu hesitated.
"What about the other madams?"
"Liu Ruyan won't go. As for the other two, you don't need to concern yourself with them."
The Azure Wolf Courtyard.
Murong Xue wiped her curved blade, holding it across her lap.
Batuer stood at the courtyard gate.
"Princess, there's horse racing in the south of the city tomorrow. Shall we go?"
"No."
"Isn't horse racing your favorite, Princess?"
Murong Xue sheathed her blade and looked up in the direction of the study.
"Tomorrow, we'll watch a show."
"What show?"
"People from the Central Plains are going to fight with their mouths. I want to see if it hurts."
Iron Plum Courtyard.
Lin Qingdai took a longsword from the sword rack and drew it half an inch. Lamplight reflected off the blade, dazzling Zitang.
Zitang rubbed her eyes and asked,
"Miss, tomorrow, are you going to watch the poetry gathering..."
"No."
Zitang nodded.
"Remember to have the horses ready."
Zitang: ?
Lin Qingdai pushed the sword back into its sheath and casually tossed the sword-cleaning cloth into Zitang's arms.
"I'm not watching the poetry gathering. I'm watching Gu Moran make a fool of himself."