With that thought, the Sixth Prince felt his body and mind relax somewhat. Yet he sighed with some bitterness: “No wonder none of the officials here are straightforward—they’re all men of the military bureau! They look fearful before me, but in truth, they rely on their backing and don’t take me seriously at all.”
Situ Sheng rose with his teacup, walked to the poolside, and handed him tea as he said: “Not entirely so… The Prefect and Assistant Magistrate Zhou are clearly different.”
Liu Ling, facing so many local officials daily, only remembered those in high positions. Aside from the Prefect, Zhou Sui’an’s beautiful young wife had left a deep impression on him, and thus the Sixth Prince also remembered Zhou Sui’an.
Hearing this, the prince was puzzled.
Situ Sheng, with steam rising from the tea, explained slowly: “Half a year ago, His Majesty resolved to reform entrenched corruption, focusing on border military affairs. Many officials were reassigned, and here nearly all were replaced. The Prefect and Assistant Magistrate were both appointed only half a year ago. Especially Zhou Sui’an—he has been here six months, yet knows less than Your Highness. How could he be part of the old faction?”
The Prefect was said to be a disciple of Grand Secretary Dong, appointed by the Emperor to serve as his eyes. He was seasoned, walked the middle path, and offended no one.
But Zhou Sui’an, a young official without family connections, had been sent to such a perilous post—clearly as expendable cannon fodder, whose death would scarcely matter.
Liu Ling found this reasonable. Zhou Sui’an was indeed unlike the evasive local officials—he was always brimming with energy, constantly reporting trivial matters to him. So much so that whenever Liu Ling saw him, his ears buzzed and he wanted to avoid him.
Thinking that his return to the capital was near, Liu Ling decided not to trouble himself further. Since the tutor wished to investigate old cases, let him do so. He waved to his tutor: “This hot spring is delightful. Sir, will you not join me?”
His tutor was admirable in all things, but too restrained—he avoided wine and women, and had no hobbies.
Though the steam was inviting, Situ Sheng kept his collar tightly fastened, showing no intention of bathing. Even when invited, he only rose and said: “I caught a chill bathing yesterday, so I shall not enter the pool. Your Highness may soak longer; I will wait in the pavilion below by the fire.”
He descended the steps to the mid-mountain pavilion. Liu Ling watched his tall, upright figure and shook his head helplessly.
Situ Sheng, in the prime of life, had never married. In the palace, people whispered whether he disliked women or suffered some hidden ailment.
That a man could live so ascetically baffled the newly married prince. His invitation to bathe together had partly been curiosity—to see if his tutor’s “little tutor” was sound.
But Situ Sheng was dull, refusing to share the snowy bath. Perhaps the rumors were true—that he had some unspeakable defect?
As he reached the pavilion, he saw several carriages at the mountain’s foot.
This place was called Chai-fei Mountain, with two low peaks facing each other like wooden gates. One held the hot spring pool, the other a bustling temple.
It was the fifteenth day, and several local ladies had come to burn incense and fulfill vows, leaving their carriages below.
From the pavilion, Situ Sheng looked down and saw Chu Linlang in bright pink, fluttering among the ladies like a lively butterfly, enlivening the group. When the women had gone up the mountain, he too set off along a steep side path, moving swiftly through the forest until he caught up.
Meanwhile, Chu Linlang had consulted the almanac and divined with turtle shells before setting out. With so many heads lost in the neighboring county, she feared whether Lianzhou could escape disaster.
With the King of Hell looming over the prefecture, she felt she must pray for her husband’s safety. She had mentioned this casually to the Prefect’s wife, who agreed. Knowing Chu Linlang’s skill in spiritual matters, she followed her lead. Word spread, and by the fifteenth, seven or eight ladies joined the pilgrimage.
When they alighted, they saw carriages at the opposite mountain foot, and learned the Sixth Prince was bathing in the hot spring there.
Fortunately, the temple was on the other peak. They arranged to avoid crossing paths with him when descending. But the snow had left the paths slippery, and though temple servants had cleared them, the ladies had to walk carefully.
Two women walking behind happened to be with Madam Lin, wife of Zhang Xian. Knowing Zhou Sui’an and Zhang Xian were enemies, they flattered Madam Lin by gossiping about Chu Linlang: “Only a domineering woman would defy her mother-in-law! I heard she is jealous, driving out every concubine. Madam Zhao even wept to my mother, saying Chu Linlang will not allow anyone in the household. The Zhou family will have no heirs!”
Another sighed: “No wonder Lord Zhou, so talented, has such a quiet household. But she has no son yet—doesn’t she worry?”
Madam Lin glanced at Chu Linlang, laughing with the Prefect’s wife, and only listened silently.
Their words stirred the group, who all lamented that such domineering conduct would end badly. Truly, marrying a virtuous wife was wise. Lord Zhou’s lack of a son was a pity.
The Prefect’s wife, hearing the whispers, turned and called: “What are you saying? Speak louder so I may hear too!”
The gossipers realized they had spoken too loudly and quickly laughed it off.
Madam He, the Prefect’s wife, patted Chu Linlang’s hand: “They are always like this, gossiping behind backs. Pay them no mind.”
Chu Linlang smiled bitterly: “If I were you, I wouldn’t care. You are mistress of the household—what dog or cat dares defecate on your head?”
Madam He laughed, pleased. She was the daughter of a minor officer, raised in the countryside, her speech rustic. Despite a fifteen-year age gap, she and Chu Linlang were kindred spirits. Chu Linlang’s tact had made them close friends within half a year. She had heard of the Zhou family’s concubine scandal, seen the delicate Miss Yin herself, and even spoken with Zhou Sui’an’s mother. She knew Linlang had not driven out a concubine as rumor claimed.
Yet as an elder, she felt obliged to advise: “If husband and wife are loving, with children, then monopolizing him is fine. But without children, persisting only makes you a sinner in your husband’s family. Next time your mother-in-law insists, you must not resist. You’ve been married long—no need to be jealous like a girl. Sooner or later, it will happen. Better to win favor with husband and mother-in-law. A concubine is only a concubine—once she enters, she can be managed. If you cannot, I will teach you!”
Chu Linlang knew this day would come, but even then, she could not learn Madam He’s iron methods. Her own mother had been a concubine—she would not condemn another to such misery.
So she changed the subject.
At the temple, after incense and prayers, Madam He and others stayed for vegetarian meals and lectures.
Chu Linlang disliked meatless food and lofty sermons, so she excused herself and wandered in the back mountain. Her devotion was only in the moment of kneeling and offering incense—like a business deal, pledging what she could afford, fulfilling vows, and moving on. If one temple proved ineffective, she would try another. As for cleansing the heart and mind, she had no patience.
When seeking children, though nine temples declared she was fated to be barren, one promised her both son and daughter—that was enough.
Madam He, though uninterested in doctrine, pretended to listen for longevity’s sake.
Chu Linlang wandered for a while, then prepared to return to the guest room for tea. But after a few steps, she saw someone ahead.
Looking up—heavens! It was Situ Sheng again.
Such a coincidence felt too much like a play, even vaguely improper. She turned quickly to leave.
But Situ Sheng, unconcerned with propriety, called out: “Madam Zhou, may I have a word?”
Seeing he had a servant, and she a maid, with no walls or roof around them, it could not be called a secret meeting. She pursed her lips and approached, bowing: “What a coincidence, to meet you here, Master Situ.”
A courteous man would reply politely that it was indeed a chance.
But this palace tutor only smiled faintly and said, “Not a coincidence. I came here deliberately to wait for Madam Zhou.”
Though Chu Linlang knew she was young and beautiful, hearing such blunt words made her gasp, eyes wide: “Master Situ… what do you mean by this?”
Situ Sheng, having once played the zither in vain before a cow, knew it was best not to speak in circles with her. He said directly: “Last time I asked Madam if Lord Zhou might provide me with the register of former officials in Lianzhou. Unfortunately, Lord Zhou felt that, as the Sixth Prince’s tutor, it would be overstepping for me to concern myself with local administration, and so he was unwilling. Therefore, I wish to ask Madam—could you perhaps help copy out a version for me?”
Chu Linlang drew in a sharp breath once more—this time out of dismay that her husband’s childish obstinacy had managed to offend the Sixth Prince’s esteemed tutor over such a trivial matter.