Shi Huai went to see Shi Lingyi on the road of her exile.
It was at a post station two hundred li to the south of the capital.
Shi Lingyi was being escorted by two yamen runners, dressed in a grey prisoner's uniform, her hair dishevelled, her face sallow, and a pair of straw sandals with worn-through soles on her feet.
She limped as she walked, her left foot clearly injured, and her brows furrowed with every step she took.
Under the old locust tree in the post station stood a stone table and several stone stools.
Shi Huai sat on one of the stone stools, with a pot of tea and two cups set out before him.
When Shi Lingyi was led over, she spoke with a tone of self-mockery.
"Did my little brother come to laugh at me?"
Shi Huai poured a cup of tea and pushed it over to her.
The tea was a pale emerald green, glowing with a warm soft light in the white porcelain cup.
"Eldest Sister, please sit."
Shi Lingyi sat down across from him, picked up the cup and drank the tea down in one gulp. Her fingers were trembling as she set the cup back down.
She lifted her head to look at Shi Huai. In those eyes that had once been so gentle, only exhaustion and numbness remained now.
"Are you satisfied now?"
Shi Huai looked at her face.
Shi Lingyi had been counted among the most beautiful women in the entire capital, but now she was so haggard that she barely resembled her former self.
The fine lines at the corners of her eyes, the nasolabial folds around her mouth, the sun-spots on her cheekbones—every mark told of the years of suffering she had endured.
"Eldest Sister, have you ever thought about how all of this began?"
Shi Lingyi was stunned by the question.
"Did it start the day you married into the Shen family? Or the day you found out Shen Zhixing had a mistress outside? Or even earlier, the first time you rummaged through my desk?"
Shi Huai's tone was calm, his voice light as he spoke. "Eldest Sister, you are hating the wrong person."
Shi Lingyi's fingers clenched hard against the edge of the stone table.
She stared at Shi Huai for a long while, her lips twitching several times before her voice squeezed out from between her teeth.
"If not you, then who should I hate? Shen Zhixing? My own mother? Or myself?"
"You can hate anyone you like, just not me. Because I owe you nothing."
Shi Lingyi's eyes turned red in an instant, tears welling up in her sockets, but she bit her lip to keep them from falling, and just stared at Shi Huai fixedly.
Shi Huai stood up and straightened his collar, then took a bank note out from his sleeve and placed it on the stone table, pressing it down with the teacup.
"Eldest Sister, this is five hundred taels of silver. You will need it for the journey. Live well when you reach your destination, and do not do anything foolish ever again."
He turned and left.
Shi Lingyi sat on the stone stool, watching his back vanish through the entrance of the post station.
Sunlight spilled down from above, casting her lonely shadow on the ground.
She looked down at the bank note on the table, reached out and picked it up.
The corners of the bank note were crumpled deep by her tight grip.
She pressed the note to her chest, bent over and buried her face in her knees, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.
The yamen runners stood a few paces away, glancing at each other, none of them daring to step forward.
Shen Zhixing was locked in the Ministry of Justice prison, awaiting execution after the autumn.
The cell was dark and damp, water beading down the walls, and the floor was covered with a layer of mouldy straw.
Rustling mice scurried in the corners, and cockroaches crawled across his feet, but he was too listless to swat them away anymore.
He leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, his mind replaying all his actions over the years again and again.
The high spirits he had felt on his first trip to Huaibei, the trembling nervousness when he accepted his first bribe, the prickle of conscience when he first forced people to sell their land at unfair prices...
Little by little, he had grown accustomed to it all.
Accustomed to being fawned on, accustomed to silver flowing in like running water, accustomed to those farmers kneeling before him begging him to show mercy...
He had thought he could live that way forever, that as long as his father held power in the court, no one would dare to touch him.
But he had forgotten that there is no wall that does not let in light, and no powerful backer that can stand forever.
That winter, the first snow fell over the capital.
A thin layer of white settled on the stone lions at the gate of the Yongning Marquis Manor. Old Liu the gatekeeper huddled in his gate lodge warming himself by the fire, refilling his teapot three times before the first visitor of the day arrived.
The visitor was a low-ranking clerk from the Ministry of Rites, who had come to deliver the appointment document from the Ministry of Personnel.
After Shi Huai had passed the imperial examination as the third-place top graduate, it was customary for him to wait for the Ministry of Personnel to assign a post—anywhere from half a year to a full year—before he could take up an official position.
When Old Liu brought the document to the Shou'an Hall, Shi Huai was in his study reading a local chronicle he had brought back from Jiangnan.
Tangerine was squatting on the corner of his desk, batting at a writing brush that had fallen on the floor.
Shi Huai took the document, unfolded it and glanced over it.
The Ministry of Personnel had assigned him the post of Hanlin Academy Compiler, a position of the sixth rank.
The outcome was exactly what he had expected.
The top three new graduates of the palace examination were customarily admitted into the Hanlin Academy, and only after they finished their term as trainee scholars would they be sent out to take local posts.
When Shi Yuanzhi heard the news, he was sitting in the study in his main courtyard, lost in thought.
A half-read copy of *Zizhi Tongjian* lay open before him, but he could not bring himself to read a single character on its pages.
He nodded when the news was relayed to him, said nothing, waved the young servant away, and continued to stare at the book in a daze.
The snow outside the window grew heavier and heavier, bending the branches of the trees in the yard under its weight.
The post of Hanlin Academy Compiler was a very leisurely one.
His daily tasks amounted to nothing more than compiling historical records, drafting imperial edicts, and accompanying the Emperor to compose poetry and verses.
In his first month on the job, Shi Huai would arrive at the yamen at the fifth hour and leave at the ninth hour, his daily routine even more regular than when he had been studying at the Imperial Academy.
Qinghe would prepare his lunch every day, pack it in a food box for him to bring to the Hanlin Academy, where he would heat it up in the duty room at noon.
Every morning, Tangerine would walk him to the manor gate, squat on the threshold and watch his carriage drive away.
Then she would spend the whole day napping in the Shou'an Hall, and squat by the door again to greet him when he came back at dusk.
Days passed by peacefully like this.
Winter gave way to spring, and the old locust tree in the courtyard sprouted new buds.
Half a year into his post as Compiler, the Emperor suddenly issued an imperial decree.
He appointed Shi Huai to concurrently serve as Left Consultant of the Left Chunfang at the Crown Prince's Palace, while retaining his original post as Hanlin Academy Compiler.
His duties included keeping records of the Crown Prince's daily activities and drafting official documents.
The news caused quite a stir in the imperial court. The Crown Prince's Palace was the administrative body serving the heir apparent.
Although the post of Left Consultant was still a sixth-rank position, it held a sensitive status, giving its holder direct access to the Crown Prince.
Some court officials speculated that the Emperor was selecting candidates for the Crown Prince's personal retinue, while others guessed that the Emperor simply admired Shi Huai's talent and wanted him to spend more time accompanying the Crown Prince in his studies.
Shi Huai paid no heed to all the gossip.
He reported for duty at the Hanlin Academy as usual every day, and then went on to the Crown Prince's Palace to finish his shift.
After a month of rushing between the two offices, he had lost a whole notch of weight.
Qinghe felt so sorry for him that she cooked all kinds of delicious food for him every day to nurse him back to health. Even Tangerine got to share in the treats, growing from a plump orange cat to an even rounder, fatter orange cat.
The Crown Prince was sitting in the study of the Eastern Palace reviewing memorials when Shi Huai was announced.
He was wearing an apricot-yellow informal robe, his hair tied up with a white jade hairpin, and a tall stack of documents pilled up on the desk before him.
When the eunuch announced Shi Huai's arrival, the vermilion brush in his hand paused mid-air.
A drop of ink fell on the memorial, spreading into a red flower. He hurried to wipe it away with a handkerchief, but only succeeded in smudging it further. He simply closed that memorial and set it to the side.
Shi Huai stepped into the study, bowed and greeted him. "Your subject Shi Huai, pays his respects to Your Highness the Crown Prince."
