Chapter 154

It was not until noon the next day that they finally emerged from the inner chamber.

Everyone assumed they were simply exhausted from the lantern festival. Zhenzhu's eyes even sparkled as she asked Fu Tingjun, "Madam, can we really go see the lanterns on West Street tonight?"

"Of course you can." Since they had decided to rest at home for the day, it was the perfect opportunity to let the household servants go out and enjoy themselves—if you want the horse to run fast, you have to feed it well. "Just be careful and don't let anyone lure you away."

Zhenzhu's face lit up with joy at once. "Don't worry, Madam. I'll stay right behind Zheng San and promise not to talk to any strangers." She scampered off happily to find Kou'er.

Fu Tingjun smiled at the sight and went to the main hall for the midday meal.

Zhao Ling was already waiting for her.

Fu Tingjun asked him, "What are Ninth Master's plans for this afternoon?"

"None!" Zhao Ling gazed at her with warm, gentle eyes. "Do you have any ideas?"

"How would I have any good ideas?" Fu Tingjun said with a sweet smile. "I was just thinking of taking a nap after lunch."

Zhao Ling coughed somewhat awkwardly at this and said, "I plan to do some reading in the study this afternoon."

He was saying he wouldn't disturb her, wasn't he?

Fu Tingjun laughed inwardly. After the midday meal, one went to the inner chamber to rest, and the other went to the study. Fu Tingjun slept wonderfully and woke to find the sun setting, the room bathed in rosy twilight.

From outside the window came the excited chatter of Zhenzhu and Kou'er.

"...Sister Yuwei said that since Madam has promised, she won't go back on her word. Don't worry!" It was Zhenzhu's voice.

Kou'er said, "Madam and Ninth Master are so kind. I'm going to buy some fried dough twists to eat!"

"What's so good about fried dough twists? If you want some, just tell Xuemei and she'll make them for you when she gets the chance." Zhenzhu said dismissively. "I'm going to save up the ten coppers Madam gave me and send them to my mother later."

When had she given them ten coppers?

Puzzled, Fu Tingjun got up and called out, "Zhenzhu!"

Zhenzhu came running in at once.

She was wearing a brand-new shirt of bright madder-red cotton and had tied red cord ribbons around her hair buns.

Seeing Fu Tingjun studying her, Zhenzhu smiled shyly and murmured in explanation, "Because we're going to see the lanterns..."

So that was why she had dressed up so carefully?

Fu Tingjun remembered how, as a child, she would rummage through her room to dress up before going to temple fairs with her grandmother, and couldn't help smiling. "You look very pretty!"

Zhenzhu's eyes widened, her little face flushed red, and she whispered, "Madam is the pretty one!" Then, hiding her shyness, she quickly helped Fu Tingjun wash and dress.

Fu Tingjun asked her, "Who's attending to Ninth Master's writing needs?"

"Ninth Master said he wanted to be alone," Zhenzhu said. "He didn't ask us to stay and serve."

Fu Tingjun nodded, and once she was dressed, she went to the study.

Zhao Ling was bent over writing something. He looked up at the sound of her approach, his expression stern—but once he saw who it was, he immediately broke into a gentle smile. "You're awake!" He set down his brush and stood up.

Fu Tingjun walked over to him. "What is Ninth Master writing?"

"Nothing much." Zhao Ling smiled. "A few days ago, Teacher Yao asked about the affairs in the northwest. I made a few casual remarks, and he was quite interested. He asked me to think it over carefully and write up a proposal for him to review. I'm just preparing in advance—in case Teacher Yao drags me in for a talk the moment my leave ends, I'll have something proper to say!"

Fu Tingjun laughed at this and said, "Why don't we skip Tanzhe Temple tomorrow? You can stay home and work on your proposal."

"It's all in my head," Zhao Ling shook his head. "It's just a matter of writing down a few thoughts to organize my ideas. I only have one last section left, so it won't interfere with tomorrow's plans."

"I'm just worried about delaying your important work." Fu Tingjun said, rolling up her sleeves to grind ink for him. "Didn't you say yesterday that Tanzhe Temple isn't going anywhere? We can go another day when we have free time."

"That's different." Zhao Ling picked up his brush again. "Tanzhe Temple is dedicated to Guanyin's sacred site."

Fu Tingjun didn't understand at first, but when Zhao Ling gave her a knowing, half-smiling look, it dawned on her—Guanyin Bodhisattva was also known as the Child-Giving Guanyin.

Her face burned, and she shot him a glare.

Zhao Ling laughed heartily and sprinkled yellow sand over the finished proposal to absorb the excess ink.

Fu Tingjun helped him as she asked, "What all did Teacher Yao ask you about?"

"He asked where I was stationed during the Mongol invasion that year, how many battles I fought, who I faced in combat, and what the outcomes were." Zhao Ling said. "He also asked why our dynasty's merchant caravans keep getting robbed outside the Jiayuguan Pass, and whether there was any good way to attract more caravans through the pass. All sorts of miscellaneous questions—he asked a great deal."

Since he was the emperor's strategist during his time at the Former Residence of the Emperor, it was likely that the emperor's actions had all been guided by his advice. If she responded appropriately, she might even win Teacher Yao's favor, which could only benefit Zhao Ling.

"So how did you answer?" Fu Tingjun's expression turned serious.

"Since those merits were originally credited to Lu Cheng, how could I burn the bridge after crossing? Naturally, I said what should be said and left out what shouldn't be said," Zhao Ling said. "I know where to draw the line." He added, "By rights, this question should have been directed at the Marquis of Yingchuan. I wonder why Teacher Yao asked me instead? Could it be that the Marquis's answer didn't satisfy the emperor?" He then shook his head. "The Marquis of Yingchuan is a man of depth and strategy—surely that shouldn't be the case."

This was also what puzzled Fu Tingjun.

The two discussed several possibilities but found none of them plausible.

After supper, Zheng San took A Sen and the others to see the lanterns, but Yuwei insisted on staying behind: "We can't all leave—otherwise, who would be there to serve tea and water to the master and mistress?"

Seeing that persuasion was futile, Fu Tingjun had no choice but to let Yuwei stay home. Taking the opportunity, Yuwei told Fu Tingjun about how she had taken it upon herself to distribute rewards of ten to a hundred wen to each servant on Fu Tingjun's behalf.

Presumably, since Fu Tingjun had not left the inner chamber all day, Yuwei had no way to report to her.

Moreover, giving rewards to the household servants during the Spring Festival, Dragon Boat Festival, and Mid-Autumn Festival had been a tradition in the Fu family.

"You did well in this matter," Fu Tingjun said with a smile. "It's fortunate to have your help."

Fu Yuwei blushed with embarrassment.

Meanwhile, Zhao Ling stood on the steps, speaking gravely to Zheng San, and cautioning A Sen and the others to be careful before letting them out the door.

Only the couple remained in the main hall. Zhao Ling asked Fu Tingjun, "Do you know how to play Go?"

Not just know—it was practically her specialty.

But in Go, there was always someone better, so Fu Tingjun dared not boast. She said modestly, "I once studied with the retired Hanlin scholar who taught us. I usually played with my sisters—sometimes winning, sometimes losing. I'm not sure how skilled I truly am."

"We'll find out with a game," Zhao Ling said with a smile. They sat across from each other on the arhat bed in the study to play Go. Zhao Ling took the black stones and let Fu Tingjun move first. She didn't stand on ceremony and placed her opening move; Zhao Ling responded. They went back and forth, and within the time it takes to burn two sticks of incense, Zhao Ling's forehead was already beaded with sweat. "Who did you learn this from?"

"The retired Hanlin scholar who taught us."

"What was the old gentleman's name?"

"I only know his surname was Lin, given name Zhan, courtesy name Fengchun."

"Never heard of him." Zhao Ling smiled wryly. "I've lost this game!"

Fu Tingjun nodded seriously: "If we continued, your dragon would be cut in half." Then she asked, "Would you like to go first this time?"

Zhao Ling didn't stand on ceremony this time either and took the white stones to move first.

Though he lost again, it wasn't as disastrous as the previous game.

"Another round?" he offered proactively.

Fu Tingjun agreed with a smile.

They went back and forth, completely losing track of time, until the lantern-viewing crowd returned and the noise shattered the tranquility of the night, startling them into realizing how late it had become.

They hurriedly washed up and went to bed, still discussing the chess game as they drifted off.

...

The next day, they went to Tanzhe Temple.

They kowtowed devoutly before the statue of Guanyin and donated twenty taels of silver as incense money.

The following day, they went to Baiyun Temple.

They touched the monkey statue, strolled across Wofeng Bridge, admired the osmanthus in the back garden, and savored the famous vegetarian cuisine of the capital... They enjoyed themselves thoroughly and agreed to return another time.

On the way home, Zhao Ling suggested going to Fragrant Hills the next day to see the autumn leaves: "Though it's a bit early, the trees are lush and green there—it wouldn't hurt to take a look."

Fu Tingjun had little interest in mountain climbing: "Let's save it for another day. The Mid-Autumn Festival is almost here, and we haven't even made the mooncakes yet."

Zhao Ling thought that was reasonable.

He also had superiors and colleagues to socialize with.

From that day on, one entertained guests outside while the other prepared festive foods at home. Before they knew it, the calendar had turned to the fifteenth day of the eighth month—the Mid-Autumn Festival.

They set up tables and chairs in the courtyard, found a quiet spot to pay homage to the portrait of the Moon Goddess, and everyone gathered around the round table eating mooncakes and admiring the moon while offering sacrifices to the Moon Goddess. With the addition of Yanqing and the others to the household, it was livelier than in previous years.

The next day at the hour of yin (3-5 AM), Zhao Ling rose early to wash and dress before heading to the inner palace.

With Zheng San and his wife handling the grocery shopping, and Yuwei managing the cleaning and laundry, and with so few people in the household, Fu Tingjun found herself with nothing to do. She sat on the large kang by the window in Zhao Ling's study, practicing chess patterns.

In the evening, a servant came to report that Zhao Ling was on duty at the palace and would not be returning that night.

Fu Tingjun thought nothing of it at first, but when night fell, she found it unbearable.

Usually, there was always a warm body beside her, but now she was left alone and solitary... Waking up thirsty in the middle of the night, still half-asleep, she called out "Ninth Master."

Her spirits were somewhat low.

She would have to find out how many days a month Zhao Ling was on duty at the palace!

As she was pondering this, Master Lyu came over: "I heard that Ninth Master is staying overnight at the palace. I wonder if he'll be able to come back tomorrow?"

"He should, I think?" Fu Tingjun wasn't entirely certain either.

Master Lyu hesitated for a moment, then said, "Actually, telling you is just as good—the wedding is over now, and I need to return to Xi'an Prefecture..."

Fu Tingjun was taken aback: "Why are you thinking of going back to Xi'an Prefecture? Didn't you say last time that you'd bring Madam Lyu to the capital?"

"That was just a joke with A Sen and the others!" Master Lyu laughed. "You still need me to help manage your properties in Shaanxi."

"Don't worry about it. Wait until Ninth Master returns, and we'll discuss it then." Fu Tingjun saw Master Lyu off, and it wasn't until the fourth day that Zhao Ling finally came back.

When he heard that Master Lyu wanted to leave, he thought for a moment and said, "That's fine. When I grow old and retire from office, I'll want to return to my roots eventually. Having you look after our properties in Xi'an Prefecture will put our minds at ease."

Master Lyu was stirred by these words and assured him repeatedly, "Rest assured, Ninth Master. I will take good care of your properties."

Since Zhao Ling only had one day off every ten days, and he insisted on personally seeing Master Lyu off, Master Lyu set his departure date for the twentieth day of the eighth month.

For this reason, Fu Tingjun specifically had Zheng San purchase five bolts of fine brocade and two pairs of fashionable shoes to send to Master Lyu's quarters, as gifts for Madam Lyu.

This gesture reminded Master Lyu, and he hurriedly began buying gifts for his friends and neighbors back home, asking Fu Tingjun for suggestions. The two of them busied themselves for a while, and finally, Zhao Ling's day off arrived.