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Lin Shu becomes aware that everything hurts. His limbs are heavy, impossible to move. He tries to open his eyes, but it’s a blur that’s too bright to bear. He closes them again quickly, flinching.

“Awake!” he hears Fei Liu yelling. Footsteps clattering, fading. Sound fading. Awake, awake, awake…

It still hurts, but he can name specific places. Neck, head. Bones aching in his arms and legs. A throbbing, stabbing, burning pain on his right side. Mouth parched. Throat on fire.

“Drink,” Lin Chen’s voice says.

He can’t see anything but he parts his lips desperately. He expects cool, fresh water but instead it’s something thick, bitter and foul. He tries to fight it but firm hands are holding his head, forcing it down.

“People who are careless on the border between life and death don’t get nice medicine,” Lin Chen says.

When he wakes next time, it is dark. Li Gang is there, and helps him sip at some soup.

“Da Yu?” he manages to ask.

“Defeated,” Li Gang tells him. “Commander General Meng led us to a great victory following your plan. He is still in the north. You took an arrow in your side, but you kept fighting.”

“Jingyan? The capital?”

“All safe. There’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Nihuang?” he thinks he asks, but falls asleep before he gets the answer.

Eventually, he wakes up enough to realise that he is back at Langya Hall. He tries to sit up but even that much is exhausting. His head spins and he collapses onto one elbow, jarring the wound in his side, and gasps at the agony.

Zhen Ping comes running. “Chief! Please, you must rest!”

He can’t even protest as he is laid back down. Bright lights swim before his eyes. He hasn’t felt this much pain since his treatment for the Poison of the Bitter Flame.

“Why am I alive?” he asks.

“You lost a lot of blood from your injury, but by losing blood, you also lost some of the poison from the Bingxu pill. Your life was very precarious, hanging by a thread. Young Master Lin begged the Old Master to return and treat you.”

He tries to sit up again. “Old Master Lin is here?”

With no effort at all, Zhen Ping’s gentle hand holds him down. “He has left again. Lin Chen and the Old Master argued over whether they should save your life or if you should be allowed to move on to the next life. Your condition is very complex. You now have the Poison of the Bitter Flame as well as the Bingxu poison in your system, and the arrow pierced your liver. We pleaded with the Old Master until he saved your life, but the Old Master was very angry and would not stay.”

“The Old Master was right,” Lin Shu says, letting his head fall back, closing his eyes against the agony. “I wanted to go to the next life.”

Letters and pigeons arrive. He does not read the messages. He is twice poisoned now, and twice crippled. The pain is interminable. He is a broken shell that can barely hold a sheet of paper. His work was finished. He has no reason to be alive.

When he is strong enough, Lin Shu pushes away the medicine.

“What?” Lin Chen says. “Not sweet enough for you?”

“I don’t want it,” he says.

“You need it. You won’t recover without it.”

Lin Shu turns his head away; he doesn’t want to deal with Lin Chen. “I don’t want to recover. Just let me be.”

Lin Chen breathes in slowly. “You don’t want to recover?” he says, softly and a little dangerously.

“I’m tired. I want you to let me go to the next life.”

“Changsu,” Lin Chen says, “why do you think I would want to do that?”

Lin Shu turns back to face him, because he needs Lin Chen to understand. “Why wouldn’t you? What is my life worth any more?”

Lin Chen leans back, as if stung. “Your life is worth a great deal, to many people! You know this.”

“But I was ready to move on! I was finished!”

“Who is ever finished? Expecially you, Changsu. You are not finished. Your Nihuang is still on the battle lines with Southern Chu. Your Crown Prince wants your help in the capital. ”

“I have agreed with the Emperor that I will not go back to that life.”

Lin Chen shakes his fan at him. “You still lead the Jiangzuo Alliance. You enforce the moral codes of the Pugilist world and protect the weak people from the strong.”

“Li Gang and Zhen Ping can lead it. That was always my plan. They don’t need me any more.”

“Oh, you have all the answers, do you?” Lin Chen narrows his eyes. “What about Fei Liu, huh?”

Lin Shu pauses, guilty. “Fei Liu will be all right.”

From across the room, there is a loud crash; crockery and paper go flying. Both of them look over to see Fei Liu crouching in the corner. “Not all right!” he shouts.

“Fei Liu,” Lin Shu pleads, and then doesn’t know how to finish the sentence.

Fei Liu stalks over, takes the bowl from Lin Chen and kneels down in front of him.

“Drink,” Fei Liu says.

Gently, he pushes the bowl away. “Fei Liu, I am very sick and I hurt all the time. I don’t want any more medicine.”

Fei Liu turns to stare at Lin Chen, who shrugs belligerently and folds his arms.

Fei Liu turns back. “Drink,” he insists, pushing the bowl forward. “Medicine.”

“Fei Liu, I cannot,” Lin Shu says, cupping his hands. “It is time for me to leave this life. Li Gang and Lin Chen will take good care of you, I promise.”

“Su-gege,” Fei Liu insists. “Su-gege.” His face slowly crumples and he pushes the bowl forward. “Su-gege, drink.”

Lin Shu puts his hand on Fei Liu’s wrist, which is as far as he can reach. “Fei Liu, Lin Chen-gege will look after you.” He feels tears welling at the thought of leaving Fei Liu, but is equally despairing at the thought of having to endure this life any longer. “I am too tired, xiao-Fei Liu. I need to rest now.”

Fei Liu turns back to Lin Chen, who shrugs again.

“Su-gege.”

They stay there all night, Lin Chen standing grimly with his arms folded, and Fei Liu begging him brokenly to drink.

“Su-gege,” he is pleading when the sun comes up.

Eventually Lin Shu can’t hold out any more. He’s exhausted and he needs to sleep. He chokes the medicine down. It feels like dying.

Lin Chen leans over to take the empty bowl, and then slaps him hard across the face. Lin Shu cries out in pain and shock.

“Xiao-Fei Liu,” Lin Chen says, ignoring him and putting an arm around Fei Liu, “let’s go eat.”

Hurt, angry thoughts are fighting towards the surface of his mind but the fog of exhaustion is too thick; they are swallowed in it.

When he wakes again, it’s night. The compound is quiet. The moon scatters silvery grey across the wooden floor.

Lin Chen is sitting next to him, fingers resting on his wrist, staring out at the forest. He seems to know without looking that his patient has woken; perhaps his pulse has given him away. “You know, Changsu,” Lin Chen says wearily, “I didn’t know if saving your life was right. I knew you were ready to move on. My father said you had suffered enough and your mother and father were waiting for you. He was very angry with me.”

Lin Shu does not dare speak. He might scream, or cry, or both.

“But Fei Liu, Meng Zhi, Li Gang, Gong Yu, Xiao Jingrui, Yan Yujin -– everyone else on the Da Yu campaign was pleading with me to save your life. And selfishly, I wanted my friend to live too.” His lips twist. “My conscience as a physician could not allow me to respect the wishes of my patient. Maybe that’s why my father is still a better physician than I am – he would have let you move on.”

Lin Chen sets his arm back down underneath the blankets and turns to face him. “In the end, I said to my father what I will say to you, Changsu. Those 70,000 souls whose names you cleared– wouldn’t you rather they were still alive? Wouldn’t you want more time with your mother and your father, if I could give it? Your Prince Qi -- what could he could have accomplished, if he’d lived even one more year? You would have wanted them to live.”

He sighs, and his face looks older and wearier, like years have passed instead of months.

“The people who love you have already lost so much to this tragedy, and they wanted you to live. So I saved your life. The truth is, I didn’t do it for you. I did it for everyone else. Now we both have to live with that.”

Lin Shu stares at the ceiling. “Tell me, how long will I live now?”

“Ah, that is the question. I don’t know, and nor does my father or any physician in this world. Your condition is unheard of. You have been exposed to two of the rarest poisons in the world, and yet your wound is slowly healing and your pulse is more steady than it has ever been. Your temperature is warmer. Somehow the Bingxu pill and the blood loss have neutralised the Poison of the Bitter Flame.”

“Will I always feel this much pain?”

Lin Chen shrugs. “From the arrow wound, no. Everything else, I can’t say. The poison is reduced but your body is as damaged as ever. You can never be a normal, healthy person. What I don't is how much the Bingxu pill has hurt or healed. I believe you can be the same as you were these last thirteen years. Maybe a little better.”

“That’s it? I’ll always be frail and weak?”

Lin Chen glares at him. “Frail and weak?” he scoffs. “Such a frail, weak person to build the Jiangzou Alliance. So frail and weak while destroying princes and an Emperor. Poor Changsu.”

“So frail and weak that I can’t ride a horse, or hold a sword. A person who can only defeat an opponent who doesn’t know I am opposing them! A schemer in the shadows.”

Lin Chen stands up. “I should never have helped you return to your identity as Lin Shu. You could have been happy living as Changsu.”

Lin Shu laughs, the dry, bitter Changsu laugh. “If you thought I was ever happy as Changsu, then you never knew me at all.”

Lin Chen walks out on him.

Nobody he knows comes to see him for the next few days. Nameless acolytes bring him food and medicine, and he finds they are willing to wait interminably by his bedside until he finishes eating and drinking everything they’ve brought. Handing them an empty bowl is the only way to get them to go away. He curses Lin Chen for being both merciless and shrewd.

Eventually he is bored enough to read the mountain of letters and messages at his bedside.

He can’t always tell the order of the letters. One of Jingyan’s letters tells him about the retirement of Minister Liu Cheng and asks his opinion on possible replacements. Others are updates on the military situations at the borders. Another pleads with him to come back to the capital:

Father’s illness keeps him in bed most days. He is rarely willing to hear news of the outside world and has not come to court since you left. If you return, you won’t have to see him and he won’t interfere.

I have had Lin Manor repaired and restored for you. I was never able to find out what became of your family’s furniture and belongings. I have not tried to replace them.

Lin Shu can’t help flinching at this. His family home was condemned and abandoned after the Chiyan Army massacre, and his family’s belongings and heirlooms would have been destroyed or looted. There was nothing he could have done about it, but he feels a wave of helplessness and anger all the same.

Jingyan continues:

Palace staff are also maintaining the home of Su Zhe. If you have further instructions, please tell me and I will have them carried out for you.

Lin Shu misses Jingyan like a torn-off limb. After years apart, he finally got to be at Jingyan’s side again, but could only permit himself to manipulate and deceive him. Their honest friendship, it turns out, has been another victim of the Chiyan conspiracy.

He puts the rest of Jingyan’s letters at the bottom of his pile.

Nihuang has written from the southern battlefield:

"We have fought one another to a stalemate. Southern Chu are entrenched in the Zhongsu foothills. They can’t come forward as we have too many troops on the plains in front of them. We can’t press them back over their border from here, as the terrain is too difficult. They cannot reach our supply lines and we cannot reach theirs. I fear overcommitting to Zhongsu and leaving an opening elsewhere. When the situation at the other borders is more secure, the Crown Prince will send reinforcements.

“If you are well enough, I hope you will come to Yunnan to advise us. If you are not, I will come to Langya Hall as soon as I can. The Crown Prince and Mu Qing have agreed to release me from military duties as soon as the situation with Southern Chu is stable. I have been separated from you too long and I can endure it no more.”

The thought of Nihuang abandoning her role at the head of the Mu army to languish here with an invalid is too much for him to bear, and he finally weeps in horror and grief at what he has become. For thirteen years, his broken shell of a body was fuelled by the need for truth and justice. Now that fire is burned out, but he is somehow still alive, an empty husk and a helpless invalid.

He will not have her here, helping him sit up and feeding him soup. She is too bright, too powerful, to be chained to this life.

He picks up a blank sheet of paper for the first time in Langya Hall, and writes back, in weak, messy characters:

Princess,

My illness is such that I can no longer honour our engagement. I will never be able to become your husband in this life. I will remain here in the mountains. Please forget about me, and find a husband who is strong, virtuous and worthy of you. I wish you a long and prosperous life.

He gives the reply to the acolyte who brings him his next meal.

From his bed, he watches the changing of the seasons. Spring is yielding to the summer of the Langya mountains. The days get longer, the sky bluer and the birds rowdier.

It is lonely in his room with only the silent acolytes for company, but he doesn’t relent and ask for Lin Chen or Fei Liu. He doesn’t know why he’s being stubborn, or what he’s even trying to accomplish; he’s just too bitter and miserable to give in to Lin Chen.

He takes his medicine, and sits up a little longer each day.

Nihuang’s reply says only, “I have received your letter. The Emperor has been notified that our engagement has ended.”

Such a cold response comes as a shock. He’d expected impassioned pleas from her –- he had been steeling himself to endure them. Instead, he is left to consider, with a sudden sense of foreboding, how formidable Nihuang could be as an enemy.

Jingyan’s next letter arrives soon after. Lin Shu’s heart beats uneasily as he opens it.

Lin Shu, explain your actions. Princess Mu Nihuang was faithful to your memory for twelve years after you were presumed dead. Since your return, she has shown you unwavering loyalty and support. I will not tolerate this disrespect toward Her Highness. You will rectify this situation immediately.

He sleeps badly that night. He remembers being able to think clearly about people, and how to get them to do what he wants. He can’t remember how to do that any more.

One day, in the stack of unread letters, he finds an exuberant message from Yan Yujin.

Lin Shu-gege I hope you are recovering well and that you will return to the city soon as I have the most wonderful news! My father has given me permission to marry Miss Gong Yu! And I am the happiest man in the world because she is pleased to be my wife!

It is not in Father’s nature to appreciate Gong Yu’s musical abilities or her beauty, but he was impressed by her courage at the battle at Mount Jiu An and in the Da Yu campaign. He cares little for what others think of her humble origins, which relieves my heart because I could not bear to disappoint him.

Her father and mother are long gone, so Gong Yu asks that I seek the blessing of her master which she begs you will grant. If your health allows we both hope you will come to Jinling City for our wedding.

He asks the acolyte if Li Gang can come in.

It is only moments before Li Gang appears. “Chief?” he asks, kneeling, as if nothing has changed. Lin Shu feels wretched with guilt and obligation and helplessness and rage.

He hands Li Gang the letter. “Could you arrange gifts for Yan Yujin and Miss Gong Yu?”

Li Gang bows. “Chief. Mr Shisan wrote to us some months ago. We sent a jade flute and copies of nine compositions from the archives of Langya Hall. Swordmaster Wu made a pair of matched blades. Is there anything else you would like to send?”

Lin Shu feels ashamed. “No, only my blessings. I will write something now.”

His calligraphy is still an undignified scrawl, and he nearly hurls it aside. Instead, he breathes deeply for a minute and then finishes wishing them happiness. He hands the letter to Li Gang.

“Can you help me get up?” he asks. “I need to see Fei Lui.”

After that, the worst of the black clouds lift. He is still in pain, but it is gradually receding from agony to aches. He takes a few steps further each day, on the arm of Zhen Ping or Li Gang or Fei Liu.

“Not bad,” Lin Chen muses, as he is finally lowered to a cushion after walking across the room and back. “You balance is pretty good. You aren’t favouring your right side too much. But your posture is terrible! You’ll become a hunchback if you don’t keep your shoulders back.”

“Ha,” Lin Shu pants. “Easy for you to say.”

“Keep practicing,” Lin Chen retorts. “You don’t have anything better to do, right?”

It is strange, being back here in Langya Hall. Lin Chen treats him with the same mixture of bullying, cajoling and mockery that he used when treating him for the Poison of the Bitter Flame. Maybe Lin Chen has softened, or maybe Lin Shu knows him better now than he did then, but he can see the kindness and sympathy underneath it all. Most days, Lin Shu despises the sympathy and it spurs him to work harder to not need it. On his very worst days, he is pathetically grateful for it, and Lin Chen is nothing but kind. He wakes sometimes like he did in the past, with Lin Chen curled up behind him, warmth at his back and fingers on his wrist.

He still gets letters from the capital. Jingyan brusquely summarises the state of Da Liang and then asks how long it will be before his stupid friend fixes his stupid mistake. Noble Consort Jing sends him updates on Jingyan’s wife and son with the herbs and recipes she sends to Lin Chen. Jingrui and Yujin tell him they are worried about him, and implore him to write to Nihuang. Zhen Ping returns to Jiangzuo, and sends reports that he doesn’t need to read. Everything seems far away and unimportant.

Some days he is angry and upset, difficult to be around. The medicine tastes awful and his bones ache and his heart hurts. Fei Liu hides and Li Gang stoically endures and Lin Chen yells at him until he feels even worse, which is maybe exactly what he wanted.

Some days he reads and takes careful walks and plays with Fei Liu. He listens to the rain on the leaves outside. He is glad to be hidden away up here. He never wants to come out.

Every now and then, Lin Chen drains some of his blood. It leaves him tired and oddly energised at the same time.

“This is what I think is happening,” Lin Chen explains. “The Bingxu pill neutralises the Poison of the Bitter Flame, but both poisons are still in your system. Slowly we remove your blood, and some of the poison with it. Over time, I hope you will be free of poison.”

“That would be nice,” Lin Shu admits.

“When you’re stronger, we’ll try some other treatments. I only have one patient, you know, and nobody to test the medicine on. Usually I get it right, but sometimes I get it wrong.”

“Like the Milk of Dandelion,” Li Gang supplies.

“Ah, the Milk of Dandelion,” Lin Chen agrees, sighing with pleasurable nostalgia. “It’s a good thing you weren’t awake for that one. You expelled it from every part of your body.”

“Messy,” Fei Liu says, glaring. “Smelled.”

“Indeed it did. The medicine now is pretty good,” Lin Chen continues. “I am very talented after all. But I think you can still be better. When you’re ready, we’ll try again with the Milk of Dandelion.”

Out of sight behind him, Li Gang is shaking his head fervently. No Milk of Dandelion, he mouths.

Meng Zhi writes from his new command of the Changlin Army in the north.

Xiao-Shu, you should know that news has reached me that you have broken off your engagement with Mu Nihuang. You must investigate urgently. I don’t understand why anyone would spread this lie. You would never dishonour the Lin family name by breaking the promise your parents made to hers.

I hope you are recovering well and that you will write me a letter soon.

Lin Shu doesn’t read any more of the letters from Commander Meng.

When the winter comes to the mountains it is cold, but it doesn’t get into his bones the way it did before. They wrap him up and he actually feels warm, which surprises him. He used to feel like blankets were just a few thin layers trying uselessly to keep his body from losing all its heat.

Word arrives that the Emperor has succumbed to his long illness, and Jingyan has been crowned. Lin Shu is relieved, because Jingyan will be too busy with the funeral ceremonies to bother him about Nihuang. He knows Jingyan too well to think he’ll actually let it go, but maybe in the meantime Nihuang will find someone else.

Lin Shu performs the mourning rituals for his uncle, and it feels less like mourning the dead and more like exorcising a demon. Xie Yu is gone, Xia Jiang is gone, and now finally the earth has been cleansed of the last person, and perhaps the guiltiest person, in the whole horrific slaughter.

And the Emperor is no longer a threat to Jingyan, Lin Shu realises, and feels a surge of relief so strong he is almost dizzy with it. He carefully lies down where he was sitting, overcome by a departing tide of guilt and anxiety that he didn’t even know he had. He breathes carefully, shuddering, feeling his own tears slide down the side of his face. Jingyan will be all right now, he thinks, feeling broken and relieved and, finally, free. Jingyan won't need his help from now on.

Among the letters and gifts in the New Year, Lin Shu is surprised to receive a book of Taoist meditations and a letter from Marquis Yan.

Xiao-Shu, I hope your health is improved and I wish you a peaceful and happy new year. In the Yan household there has been much joy to greet the arrival of Yujin’s daughter Yingtai. Gong Yu is well. This old grandfather thanks you again for your sacrifices which have seen virtue and happiness return to the Yan family and Jinling city.

I visit the Chiyan memorial often and say prayers for your mother and father. I also pray that you will find a way to set down your burdens and recover your own happiness. It is the heartfelt wish of all your family and friends.

Lin Shu folds the letter carefully and keeps it by his bed.

Thank you, he writes back. I am at peace here in the mountains.

In March, as spring floats from the bottom of the mountains to the top, the world comes back to Langya Hall: Xiao Jingrui arrives at the head of an imperial delegation.

As much as Lin Shu is pleased to see his friend, he is afraid of what it portends. It has been many months since he felt the need to scheme and plan, and he broods on his options as he watches the visitors weave up the mountain.

“His Majesty cannot leave the palace for such a long journey during the mourning period,” Jingrui tells him after tea is served. “He has asked me to come on his behalf and inquire of your health.”

“His Majesty is thoughtful but there was no need for you to come,” Lin Shu tells him. “I am doing all right.”

“Sir Su often said this,” Jingrui counters. “I think this was only ever a part of the truth.”

“The truth is I am tired,” Lin Shu tells him. “I was previously motivated to overcome my illness in order to clear my family’s name. But now, I just –- I am tired and I would like to rest. I hope the Emperor will understand.”

“You could rest in the capital, surely? All your friends could visit you, and you could meet the young prince and Yujin’s daughter-–”

“I would not feel at peace in the capital. Jingrui, it gladdens my heart to see you again, but I wish to retire from that old life.”

Jingrui gets up and paces. “But Lin Shu-gege, we are all so worried! Mu Qing is furious at you for ending your engagement, and would have ridden all the way here if Nihuang hadn’t stopped him. Nihuang will not have your name spoken in her presence. Jingyan is angry that you have not honoured your commitment. Your friends miss you and I long to spend time with my cousin who I believed dead. Please, come back to the capital, Lin Shu-gege.”

Lin Shu sighs. “Jingrui, I am not the Lin Shu-gege you remember from childhood. You must understand that the cousin you knew died on the battlefield of Meiling a long time ago. You should mourn for that person. This person now is only an empty shell who feels more at home in the shadows than in the light. Now more than ever, I wish to hide from my former life. It is best if I do not return.”

“But Lin Shu-gege-–”

Lin Shu cuts him off sharply. “I can never again be your cousin from happier times, Jingrui. But you were a good and loyal friend to Mei Changsu. I was not the friend to you that I could have been, but I ask you: can we become friends again? How we were before?”

After a time, Jingrui kneels back down and bows his head. “We have never stopped being friends, Sir Su.”

Jingrui stays several days, and is happy to walk with Lin Shu along the gentler mountain paths. They chat as they did in times past, about warriors and philosophers. Jingrui is as discerning as ever, and often stops to admire a view or a statue just as Lin Shu needs to sit and rest.

“This is a wonderful time to be at Mount Langya,” Lin Shu confesses, as they rest on a rock in dappled sunlight. “You feel as if the cool of winter is playing with the warmth of spring all around you.”

“I feel it too,” Jingrui agrees. He hesitates. “Sir Su,” he says tentatively, “your health seems much restored.”

“Yes,” Lin Shu replies, deliberately misinterpreting. “It has taken over a year for me to be able to walk even this far.”

“Forgive me for intruding on a personal matter,” –- Jingrui bows his head -– “but I hope you don’t believe that Princess Mu Nihuang thinks less of you for your illness. She has always admired you very much.”

“The Princess has always been very generous to me,” Lin Shu says, neutral.

“Do you know, I still remember your engagement to Nihuang from when I was a boy. Great-Grandmother was so pleased! And so were your parents, and hers. You and Nihuang slipped away in the middle of the celebration, and I thought you would get in so much trouble, but all the elders laughed and toasted to one another.”

Lin Shu remembers that day. He had coaxed Nihuang away from the boring elders and into the gardens, as he often did, but then suddenly not known what to say. Their engagement had suddenly seemed, not inevitable, but enormous. He was going to be responsible for this other person now. It was going to be his duty to care for her and make her happy.

“Lin Shu-gege,” Nihuang had said, noticing his turmoil. “Don’t you want to get married any more?”

“Of course I do!” he had said, mostly to reassure her. But it had reassured him too. He’d never wanted or expected to marry anyone else; he would have been outraged if anyone had suggested it to him. He had just been scared for a minute, that was all, because he was afraid that he would fail her. How silly of him –- he would never allow himself to fail at something so important.

Many years later, he can only feel numb with misery and regret. His determination to care for Nihuang had been another victim of the Chiyan conspiracy. Instead, he has failed her utterly. All he can do for her now is admit his failures and stay away.

“Sir Su, I apologise,” Jingrui says gently. “It was thoughtless of me to raise this topic.”

Fei Liu is happy to see Jingrui, and they spar under the sharp eyes of Lin Chen. Lin Shu watches appreciatively, but he doesn’t find that he has any comments on Jingrui’s technique. It looks good, but his eyes don’t process the movements like they used to, and his brain doesn’t try to analyse it.

Later that day, though, as he and Jingrui sit by the brazier in the chilly spring evening, he catches himself rubbing his fingers on the edge of the robe.

“Jingrui,” he says, “you are still not married?”

Jingrui ducks his head. “No, Sir Su. My status and birth are too awkward. I don’t mind. I have the freedom to spend time with my mother and visit my other families in Tianquan Manor and Southern Chu.”

“I have a suggestion for you,” Lin Shu says. “On your mother’s side, you are cousin to the Emperor. Your father was the King of Chu, and now your younger brother rules. Your marriage into the House of Mu could be a path to peace between our nations.”

“Sir Su,” Jingrui starts, shaking his head.

“Nihuang thinks highly of you, and her status is a match for your family connections. Because of our previous engagement, she too is in an awkward position.”

Jingrui stands up and bows. “Sir Su, I will take my leave for the evening. For the sake of our friendship, I will forget about this conversation.”

In the morning, Jingrui’s delegation is packing to return to Jinling. His goodbyes are immaculate and sincere. Lin Shu is left feeling that he has once again failed his good friend, but this time he isn’t sure exactly how.

He watches from a balcony as they make their way down the mountainside.

He wants to feel relief that this intrusion from his old life is retreating, but it doesn’t come. Deep down, he knows Jingyan too well to believe that this visit will placate him.

When spring has made it all the way up the mountain again, an acolyte runs into the hall and announces that his old life is crashing back in:

“An imperial messenger is coming!”

The occupants of Langya Hall quickly organise themselves to receive the message. The eunuch is ushered in. The assembled bow to the ground.

"His Majesty’s decree!, the eunuch announces.

"Young Marshal Lin Shu is appointed to the position of Imperial Tutor, responsible for the education of the Emperor’s adopted son Tingsheng and the young prince Xiao Tingjian. Imperial Tutor Lin will commence his duties in ten days' time.

“If Imperial Tutor Lin requires a military escort to the capital, one will be provided.”

He can feel all the eyes in the room glaring daggers at him, warning him not to provoke the Emperor into sending an army to Langya Hall.

“I accept the decree,” Lin Shu says. Jingyan, he thinks, you blasted ox.

When Lin Shu is ushered into the palace, Jingyan leaps down from the throne and rushes forward to greet him. Lin Shu quickly kneels and bows.

“Your servant Su Zhe greets Your Majesty.”

“Xiao-Shu, what is this?” Jingyan asks, raising him to his feet. “You no longer need to hide your identity.”

“Your Highness, I have come as summoned. But I cannot come as Lin Shu. I have explained this. Mei Changsu is the only person I can be in the capital.”

“You explained many things,” Jingyan says impatiently. “That doesn’t mean I agreed with them.”

Lin Shu prostrates himself before the Emperor, and Jingyan curses.

“Damn you, xiao-Shu, get up!” This time Lin Shu is hauled to his feet by an emperor who still has the strength and build of a warrior. He keeps his head down. “I know what you’re doing. Don’t you dare play games with me.”

“I am not playing games, Your Majesty. I have come as summoned.”

“Yes. I have summoned you, and so you have come as my subject and not as my friend.” Jingyan releases his arms and paces the floor. “I summoned you because you have left me no other choice! You have ignored the letters and messages from your friend, and you know that as Emperor I can’t make the journey to Langya Hall during the mourning period.”

“I have inconvenienced Your Majesty,” Lin Shu tells him with fake humility, while his anger grows inside. He doesn’t know if it’s at Jingyan or himself. He has missed Jingyan like a torn-off limb, and yet he is once again in his best friend’s presence and unable to be his friend. His mind doesn’t work as nimbly as it used to; he doesn’t know what to do except keep him at arm’s length.

Jingyan takes a deep breath and grips his shoulders, bending his knees a little to look up at him. “Xiao-Shu, what is all this about? I know better than anybody alive that your heart belongs to Nihuang. Why did you end your engagement?”

Lin Shu keeps his head down. “If His Majesty orders me to marry the Princess, your servant will not be able to defy the order.”

“You, always thinking ten steps ahead -– you already know why I haven’t!” Jingyan snaps. “I was going to! But Nihuang begged me not to. She doesn’t want you to be compelled.”

“She deserves a better husband than I can be,” Lin Shu insists, starting to tremble, and hating it.

Jingyan plants himself in front of Lin Shu with his unique mixture of thunderous and implacable. “Out of respect for the Princess and the House of Mu, who are powerful allies and defending our borders against Southern Chu as we speak, I have not yet given any orders regarding this unsatisfactory situation. But I will not leave this unresolved, Lin Shu! She is too important to the kingdom and to me.”

He softens a little, troubled.

“After so many terrible years, I want my two dear friends to find happiness together. I can’t imagine why you think this is a good idea! I can’t out-think you; I don’t know what your plan is. But I will not stand by while you wrong somebody we both love. You know this about me.”

Lin Shu does know this, and he doesn’t know how he is going to be able to outwit Jingyan’s stubbornness. “Your Majesty, I am tired after my long journey,” he manages. “May I take my leave?”

Jingyan blows out an undignified, irritated breath. Lin Shu wishes he could smile at that. When he was younger, he used to provoke Jingyan on purpose, to make him huff like a water buffalo. Right now, it makes him want to cry more than laugh. He has somehow manoeuvred himself onto the wrong side of the stubborn, resolute Emperor that he himself put on the throne.

He doesn’t have a plan for any of this. He’s never had a reason to think he’d be alive for it.

“You may leave,” Jingyan says eventually. He gestures to Gao Zhan. “Please have Sir Su escorted to his house, and have fresh food and supplies taken there. In two days he will return to the palace to begin tutoring.”

Sir Su’s house has been kept immaculately clean. It smells of summer gardens and fresh linens. Li Gang disappears to greet the staff and organise their luggage. Fei Liu is happy to be back, and bounces from courtyard to roof and back, inspecting the flowers and the trees.

Lin Shu leans against a pillar and watches him, wanting to feel joy at Fei Liu’s joy. The gardens and sunshine are a happy riot around his beautiful home, and all he can feel is a sick dread. This time, his house will have no hidden passageway, no secret rooms full of intelligence reports. Everything will be exactly as it seems. It should feel like a blessing, but instead it fills him with foreboding. He can’t pretend to be hiding his true self behind a strategist’s calculations any more. He can’t pretend that his true self is anything other than this thin, frail, scheming insect he has become.

It strikes him, finally, that this is what he has feared since waking up at Langya Hall. His true name, his true self, is being irreversibly detached from the bright and energetic person he had been before the Chiyan conspiracy. After all these years, and after all his work to clear the Lin family name, he feels a stabbing pain in his heart to realise that the name Lin Shu is becoming attached to the helpless body and calculating schemes of Mei Changsu. His true name and his true self are going to become the final victims of the Chiyan conspiracy.

His eyes are watering as he retreats to the cool interior, and when Li Gang returns with tea, Lin Shu tells him that he is tired from his journey and must dedicate his energy to his new duties as tutor. There can be no visitors.

In truth, tutoring is the least difficult thing about being back in the capital. Prince Tingjian is only two. He plays happily with his toys while Lin Shu reads to him, and has an army of nurses and attendants who whisk him away for meals and naps.

Tingsheng is as earnest and hardworking as Jingyan himself, and applies himself diligently to the topics Lin Shu sets for him -- military and political strategy, governance, ethics.

Lin Shu leaves literature, astronomy and all the other subjects to the many other tutors in the palace. In truth, he could leave every subject to them, because there are countless excellent scholars at the palace’s disposal –- his position as Imperial tutor is merely Jingyan’s excuse to summon him to the city. But when faced with Tingsheng’s young face, Lin Shu cannot allow himself to dishonour Prince Qi. He cannot waste this opportunity to pass what he can of Prince Qi’s character and integrity down to Prince Qi’s son.

Lin Shu is both resentful and ruefully proud of how well Jingyan has pulled his strings.

He introduces himself to the Palace staff as Su Zhe, and they humour him in this. Occasionally he answers a question from a scholar or another tutor from the perspective of Mei Changsu. He is sure the knowledge has spread by now, but he avoids acknowledging that he is Lin Shu.

At night, he thinks about fleeing back to the mountains, knowing Jingyan will ultimately get the message and leave him alone. But he is unwilling to abandon Tingsheng and the opportunity to honour Prince Qi, and he finds he can’t bear to disappoint Jingyan and the memories Jingyan has of him. He is suspended between the past and the present, Lin Shu and Mei Changsu.

He travels from his house to the palace and back, and avoids all of the people and events that would disrupt his tenuous equilibrium.

Jingyan must have finally learned when to stop pushing, because he requests occasional reports on the status of his sons’ education, and otherwise lets him be.

On a brisk autumn day, Jingyan turns up at Lin Shu and Tingsheng’s tutoring room. They are both taken aback, but the Emperor behaves as if nothing is unusual. He sits on a cushion next to Lin Shu and asks Tingsheng to tell him what he knows about the military stalemate in Southern Chu.

Lin Shu has taught Tingsheng a lot about the situation, because it’s a good example of many military and political issues. Tingsheng has to think harder about these issues when they are current -– the history books can’t tell him what the right answers are yet.

“Father,” Tingsheng bows. “Da Liang’s Mu Army and the army of Southern Chu are in a stalemate in the Zhongsu foothills, which are strategically valuable to both countries. The foothills are a place from which Chu could invade Yunnan. Until the Mu Army can drive the Chu army back over the mountains, they must maintain a large and costly military presence on the plains to contain them. Behind them in the foothills, Chu have an untouchable supply line through the mountains. They can’t move men, horses or goods quickly enough to supply a full invasion force, but over time they are strengthening their hold and their supply lines.”

“Very good,” Jingyan says. “Why has the Mu Army not marched into the foothills to drive them back over the border?”

Tingsheng glances nervously at Lin Shu, who smiles at him. He is doing well. “Father, the terrain is complex and a campaign will be very costly,” he tells Jingyan. "The Chu army will be able to inflict great damage on the Mu Army from higher ground and from the many caves and crevasses in the foothills. Recent reinforcements from the other armies of Da Liang mean there is enough manpower to overcome this, but we risk an attack at another border once we commit so many troops at Southern Chu.

“There is also the problem of the Emperor’s brother Prince Jingting, who married the Chu Princess Yu Wen Nian and resides in their capital. Prince Jingting has been negotiating for peace, but if hostilities increase, he may become a hostage or a casualty.”

Jingyan nods gravely. “And what is the political situation in Southern Chu?”

“After the passing of the last king, his young son Prince Weng inherited the throne. The council of advisors makes many decisions on the King’s behalf. The late king’s nephew Prince Ling is a powerful member of the council and a rival for the throne. Prince Ling wants war with Da Liang. He initiated the current situation when Da Liang was suffering instability under our previous emperor. Now that Da Liang is stable, Prince Ling cannot win support for a full invasion, but he will lose face if the army withdraws or is defeated.”

“Excellent.” Jingyan’s eyes flicker to Lin Shu but his attention stays on Tingsheng. “Now, what if I told you that I have just received some urgent news: Prince Ling has initiated a rebellion and is attempting to take the throne from King Weng. What should Da Liang do?”

Lin Shu inhales sharply, at stares at Jingyan. Tingsheng stares at both of them, panicked. “Father! Prince Ling would be very bad for Da Liang. You must ask your advisors what to do! I am unqualified.” He bows down to the ground and stays there.

Jingyan sighs heavily. “Correct,” he says, lifting Tingsheng up. “But I have brought you this question so that you understand the importance of what Imperial Tutor Lin is teaching you. One day, you will have a position where you need to answer this sort of question. Do you understand?”

Tingsheng is trembling. “Father, I understand.”

“Good. Go to sword practice,” Jingyan tells him, and Tingsheng bows and leaves. “Walk with me,” Jingyan tells Lin Shu, and Lin Shu follows him into the gardens.

Jingyan is silent as they walk, but Lin Shu knows they are both running through the same deliberations in their minds. Da Liang must urgently drive Chu from the foothills, and if they can, prevent Prince Ling from taking the throne. King Weng, Princess Nian-Nian and Prince Jingting may already be dead, and they will certainly be dead if the rebellion is successful. They are on the brink of yet another generation of war between Da Liang and Southern Chu.

“Xiao-Shu,” Jingyan says eventually, “I should have sent you to straight to Southern Chu. You are wasted here, and we need your strategies there.”

“The Princess would not have been pleased to see me,” Lin Shu says, because the Emperor’s respect for Nihuang’s feelings is the only reason he has held back on forcing them together.

“No, she will not be pleased to see you,” Jingyan says, “but she will put her feelings aside.” He sighs, and turns to meet his eyes, looking grave. “Lin Shu, for the sake of Da Liang, will you go?”

Lin Shu tries to think of a way out. “Jingyan,” he says eventually. “Damn you to hell.”

Jingyan nods. “Thank you,” he says.

Lin Shu sends requests for Marquis Yan, Yujin, Gong Yu, Jingrui and Li Gang to join them at the palace. It feels like the news has been a winter gale blowing through his mind, violently clearing away the fog and cobwebs. For the first time since he woke up a Langya Hall, it feels like he is thinking clearly. He reviews maps of the territory with Jingyan, Lie Zhanying and Shen Zhui until the others arrive, the possibilities swirling through his head until they coalesce into the beginnings of a plan.

“Li Gang,” he instructs, once they are all assembled and briefed. “Send messages to Zhen Ping and the Jiangzuo Alliance. I want information about the current situation, and if King Weng, Prince Jingting and Princess Nian-Nian are still alive, they must be protected at all costs.”

“Yes, Chief.”

“Marquis Yan will lead a diplomatic delegation to Southern Chu. Marquis, I will leave the political situation in your hands. I believe Yujin’s friendliness and charm will be a valuable asset.”

“I agree,” Marquis Yan says.

“Jingrui?”

Jingrui steps forward. “Sir Su.”

“You must be worried about your sister and brother. I know you want to publicly support them, but if Prince Ling succeeds in taking the throne, you will only join them in death. Travel with the Yan family, but go underground when you get to the Chu capital. Make connections with the local support for King Weng.”

“Yes, Sir Su.”

“Gong Yu?”

She bows. “Yes, Chief.”

He hasn’t seen her since they were on the Da Yu campaign, nearly two years ago. She is a wife and a mother now, as well as a veteran of many battles. She meets his eyes, looking calm and self-assured.

“With your musical skills and your life experience, you can make connections at every level. If you are willing to be separated from your daughter, I’d like you to find a position in the Chu palace and learn as much as you can about the factions and alliances around Prince Ling and King Weng.”

“I can do this, Chief,” she says.

Lin Shu bows to Jingyan. “Your Majesty. I request reinforcement along the border with Southern Chu, and at least a hundred thousand troups positioned within three days’ march. If Prince Ling takes the throne, we should expect an immediate invasition.”

“I agree. I will send the orders without delay.”

“We should leave for Yunnan tonight.”

“Good,” Jingyan tells them all. “Shen Zhui will supply anything you need.”

“Oh, and Li Gang,” Lin Shu adds. “Send a message to Lin Chen. Tell him he is welcome to go to Southern Chu and cause as much trouble as he likes.”

Li Gang shares one of his rare feral grins. “Yes, Chief.”

There is a flurry of organisation and packing, and as the moon rises he is in his carriage on the road south. He is moving more slowly than Maquis Yan’s group, but he takes every minute of travel to review the maps and information coming in. The Zhongsu foothills campaign will be decided, not by a few large battles, but by a thousand painful skirmishes in which they have the numbers but the enemy has the terrain. If he is to accomplish this without decimating the Mu Army, he needs a thousand different battle plans, and he works feverishly to have them ready before he arrives. He sends messages and supply requests all over the country from his carriage on the road.

“Bored,” Fei Liu complains.

“Go play outside,” Lin Shu tells him. “When we get to Yunnan, Su-gege is going to be very busy, and so will Li Gang and all the soldiers. You will need to behave very well.”

“Hmph,” Fei Liu says, and launches himself from the carriage.

At the Mu Army camp at the foothills, he is met with a fierce iciness that reminds him of the Poison of the Bitter Flame. Mu Qing and Mu Nihuang are glad that he has come to their aid, but he has made an enemy of both of them.

They accept his help without question, because they are true leaders who care for their country and their people, but they are twin blizzards beneath a thin veneer of politeness, and neither of them thaws even an inch.

He doesn’t want them to. He is Mei Changsu here, and he is as cool and calculating as he has ever been.

Nihuang has always seemed harder and fiercer in armour, but now she looks older, too -- the years in the battlefield show on her face and in her eyes. Mu Qing has aged too, into his role as Yunnan’s prince: leaner, fiercer, quicker to give orders and pass judgement. He doesn’t have time to play with Fei Liu, and doesn’t even seem to regret it. They review Lin Shu’s plans the moment he arrives, make a few changes based on their knowledge of the foothills, and by the time Lin Shu’s tent is set up for him to rest, they are already riding out.

Lin Shu watches them ride out every morning after that, and feels a stabbing pain in his heart every time. Those brief few months as a tutor in the capital, his illness had largely slipped from his mind. He had ached in the morning and was too tired by the evening, but he hadn’t thought about it beyond that. In Yunnan, surrounded by the Mu Army, he is reminded every day how frail and weak he is; how useless at the actual work of an army he is; how dependent he is on others to do the things he was raised to do himself.

Each night, he receives the reports of the scouts and captains, and reviews maps and strategies with Mu Qing and Nihuang. Each day, he stays with the camp while the army rides out, and each day he is tortured, imagining it is his decisions which mean Nihuang might never come back that evening.

He has made an enemy of her, yes, but his days are filled with worrying about her, and his evenings are spent poring over maps and reports by her side. His nights are spent sleepless, feverishly reviewing plans and tactics in his mind. He feels like an unruly teenager again, when his mind had entire days when he could think only of her -- how soon until he could see her next, how soon after that they would part again, how long until they would be old enough to marry.

He is in hell, and the brutal, grinding, uphill fight to drive the Chu Army from the foothills is a fitting landscape for his inner torment.

The weather turns unexpectedly freezing in the last days of autumn, causing a sudden concern for fuel supplies and blankets. Lin Shu is already reviewing their options when Nihuang returns from a raid.

“Get a brazier in here!” she snaps at an attendant. “Sir Su can’t be exposed to the cold.”

“Princess, it’s all right,” Lin Shu says gently. “My illness has changed. I don’t feel the cold like I used to.”

“Your illness has changed?” she asks, surprised, and he realises nobody would have told her about his condition.

“I am still very weak and frail,” he says, phrasing carefully, staying as diffident as possible, “but I am not quite as sick as I used to be. It’s not a big difference, really.”

She stares at him, and then folds down to kneel on the mat with him. “Lin Shu,” she says tentatively, and her lips part, and he cuts her off; he has to.

“Your Highness, was the raid successful?” he asks.

She gets to her feet again and stalks out, armour clanking. He can hear her shouting orders as she marches away. A few minutes later, one of her captains comes in to report on the raid.

The campaign drags on from days into weeks as the cold spell breaks and recedes, then the cold winds of early winter start in earnest. They are halfway up the foothills, and they are getting better at clearing out the caves and crevices that leave them vulnerable to surprise attacks from behind. The Southern Chu soldiers are getting better at holding their own ground in front of them, but Da Liang has the numbers, and the supply lines to keep their numbers fed and armed. The losses are terrible on both sides, but the Mu Army keeps hacking and grinding upwards towards the victory they need.

The breakthrough comes, finally, from the political sphere. Prince Ling’s faction breaks apart, and he is literally stabbed in the back by a former ally. Lin Shu shouts with relief when he receives this news, and sends messengers racing to Mu Qing and Mu Nihuang at the front.

They spend a tired, tense night in the command tent, waiting for further news from the Chu capital.

“If this ends with a truce,” Nihuang says, leaning her head back against a tent pole, “I may offer to marry Marquis Yan.”

“Ugh, he could be my grandfather,” Mu Qing says, from where he is resting his head on his arms against a wooden trunk. “But if this ends in a truce, Jie, you can have him.” They laugh the kind of laugh you hear on a long campaign, where each breath is one moment from crying. It is a moment between a brother and sister who have been fighting this war their entire lives.

When they suddenly stop and look awkwardly at him, Lin Shu smiles tiredly. “At this point, I think I would marry Marquis Yan,” he says, and they both smile wryly back.

He’s made an enemy of them both, but he loves them dearly. He is grateful to be here in this moment.

He can’t stay awake like they can, and as the night drags on without further news, he has to let Li Gang and Fei Liu assist him to his bed.

When he wakes again, it is afternoon, and cheering can be heard across the camp. Nihuang is sitting at his bedside. She smiles gently at him when she sees he is awake, and fuzzy still with sleep, he smiles back at her. Her face freezes, and he feels his own fall.

“Sir Su, please don’t get up,” she says quickly. “You can rest properly now. Marquis Yan has sent word that King Weng has been restored to the Chu throne. The king has ordered the immediate withdrawal of the Chu Army from Yunnan.”

“Good,” Lin Shu breathes. “That is very good news.” He gestures to Fei Liu, who helps him sit up.

“Jingrui has gone to Jiangzuo to bring Prince Jingting and Princess Nian-Nian back to the Chu capital. Marquis Yan proposes that his delegation remain in Southern Chu until matters are more settled.”

“Of course,” Lin Shu agrees. “If King Weng is grateful for our assistance, we have the chance of forging a lasting peace at this border.”

“I have little hope of a lasting peace.” She brushes a tear from her cheek. “But perhaps we can have a few years' respite from this war.”

“Nihuang,” he says gently, and she shakes her head to silence him.

She looks away, out the door of the tent, and then down at her hands. “Sir Su, please accept the heartfelt gratitude of the House of Mu and the people of Yunnan for your aid. Now that the worst is over, we must prioritise your health and comfort. I can have you taken to our Yunnan Palace to rest, or directly back to Jinling where you can recover at home.”

“Princess, I am all right,” he says. “I can stay a few more days to help you secure the mountain passes.”

She shakes her head, still not meeting his eyes. “It is already so cold; I think winter will be fierce this year. You must not risk being trapped in snowstorms on your way home. In the morning we will send an escort with you to ensure you get home safely.”

“Nihuang,” he begins, and then realises what she is asking. He nods slowly, even though she can’t see him. “Of course,” he says. “I will return to the capital. I thank the House of Mu for their kindness.”

She stands and bows to him. “Thank you again, Sir Su. I’ll take my leave now.”

On his journey home, he gets sick, and no matter how many blankets they pile on him, he shivers and sweats and coughs. Fei Liu and Li Gang hover anxiously, and alternately yell for the carriage to go faster and yell for it to go more gently.

When they are still a day out from the capital, his carriage stops and a very indignant Physician Yan climbs in. Lin Shu tries to mollify him, but when he opens his mouth, all that comes out is another hacking coughing fit.

“Hah,” Physican Yan says, as if he has won the argument, which, Lin Shu has to admit, he probably has. “You thought because you survived two poisons you could go running around the country? Living in a tent on a battlefield? You are still a very sick person! You cannot do these things!”

It is an infuriating reminder of his frailty and helplessness.

At home, he sleeps, and coughs, and eventually starts to recover. Physician Yan lets him up for an hour on New Year’s Eve, and then forces him back into bed again.

When the New Year period is over, Lin Shu sends Physician Yan home, unable to tolerate any more lectures about his own weaknesses. He goes out only to the Palace for tutoring, and he often falls asleep, exhausted, in the carriage going home.

Jingyan encourages him to take more time to rest. Lin Shu doesn’t see the point. No matter how well he is, all he will ever be fit to do is tutor. It doesn’t make much difference how well he is when he does it.

Arriving at the palace one morning, he is escorted not to the study halls, but to the Emperor’s private quarters.

“Lin Shu,” Jingyan tells him, “please. Sit.”

Uneasy, he takes the seat across from the Emperor. Gao Zhan pours his tea.

“Now that the mountain passes to Southern Chu are secured and the roads from the south are opening, Marquis Yan’s delegation is returning home,” Jingyan says. “Mu Qing and Mu Nihuang are also on their way to the capital. They need to pay their respects to the late Emperor and to their new ruler, and I need to reward them for their efforts in defending our country.”

“Ah,” Lin Shu says. “I see.” He hadn’t seen. He should have expected that. He’s been too ill to think; he isn’t prepared for this conversation.

Jingyan looks him dead in the eye. “Lin Shu, I would like to discuss your betrothal to Mu Nihuang.”

“Of course,” Lin Shu says, as calmly as possible.

Underneath his formal tone and implacable face, Jingyan has a hint of righteousness, which means he is already prepared to swat away or brazenly out-stubborn any argument Lin Shu tries to put forward. But for his own sake and Nihuang’s, Lin Shu needs to try.

“Your Majesty,” he begins. “Please hear me out.”

Jingyan nods, and waves him to continue with the graciousness of somebody who intends to have his way no matter what.

“This engagement has become like a wound that has been left to fester. I am a source of pain to Nihuang and she to me.”

“That can be fixed,” Jingyan says, “if the original wound is healed.”

“No, it cannot!” Lin Shu snaps. “Jingyan, you have the power and the temperament to insist that things must be how you want them to be, but they are not how you want them to be! I do not want to resume the life of Lin Shu! I am different now from how I was then. Jingyan,” he pleads, “how could I experience the last fifteen years and still be the same person?”

“But you love Nihuang,” Jingyan insists. “You cannot convince me that this is not true.”

“It is true,” Lin Shu says. “But I cannot bear to resume my old life, and I am no longer a person that is fit to marry her. Jingyan, I know how much you care for both of us, but I think you are clinging to a false hope that this is something the Chiyan conspiracy couldn’t destroy.” Jingyan’s face goes impassive, and Lin Shu knows he is covering a hit. “I think you still hope that your friend Lin Shu could survive those events and be happy again.”

Jingyan looks horrified. “Xiao-Shu, of course you must survive it and be happy! You have worked so hard, and you have suffered so much. You cannot throw away your chance at experiencing love, and at ensuring the Lin family name can be passed on to another generation.”

Lin Shu looks down at his hands and smiles sadly. “As long as you keep insisting on this, you make it impossible for us to be friends again. I have to keep my distance from you in order to protect myself from you. You know me well enough to know how to keep me here, but you refuse to listen to me when I try to tell you how I am now.”

That also hits its mark, and Jingyan sits back, looking hurt and confused. Lin Shu presses his advantage.

“You are keeping Nihuang and I trapped in our misery for the sake of your own feelings about the past. And while you do that, you are ignoring other opportunities to heal the past and bring peace to the country.”

Jingyan rises to his knees. “What opportunities? Xiao-Shu, what do you mean by this?” He is bewildered and frustrated but he is also, finally, listening.

“The House of Mu has defended our southern borders for generations, and at great cost to the Mu family and the Yunnan province. Mu Nihuang is a popular leader and a hero of the people. In Southern Chu, King Weng and Princess Nian-Nian are now grateful to Da Liang for our support in the rebellion, and are particularly grateful to their brother Xiao Jingrui who came to their aid. But there is still a long-standing suspicion and bitterness between Southern Chu and Yunnan. Every effort should be made to capitalise on this momentary reduction in hostility, and forge a more lasting alliance.”

Jingyan puts a hand on the table and leans forward, looking at him intently. “Xiao-Shu. Be very careful what you try to convince me to do. Peace between Da Liang and Southern Chu is something I am determined to achieve in my lifetime.”

“I have thought about this carefully, Your Majesty,” Lin Shu says. “I think it is the best approach.”

Jingyan breathes slowly and deeply, and sits back on his heels. He frowns down at his hands. “There can be no objection to this on the basis of Jingrui’s character,” he says. “He is virtuous and wise beyond his years. He could be a comfort to Nihuang. But Lin Shu, are you sure you want to make this argument to me?” Jingyan looks up again, and looks him dead in the eye again. Lin Shu braces himself against it, holding firm. “Since we were children, you and Nihuang have been destined for one another. She thought the sun shone from wherever you stood, and there was nothing so stupid that you wouldn’t do it to make her laugh.”

Lin Shu remembers all the stupid things he used to do to get Nihuang’s attention, and he laughs, but it tears his heart in two. “Jingyan,” he says hoarsely. “I want Nihuang to be happy, and I can no longer make her happy. Please, consider Jingrui as somebody that can make up for my failings. Encourage this union, and allow me to return to the mountains so that I no longer remind them of the past.”

Jingyan drums his fist against his leg as he considers his response. “I don’t like it,” he says flatly. “I think you are being cruel to Nihuang. Her entire life, she has loved only you. But if you are certain it is for the best, then I will think about what you have proposed.”

“Thank you,” Lin Shu says, and bows deeply.

“You should get out of my sight now, before I kill you for what you have done,” Jingyan tells him. He is not joking.

Lin Shu knows he has pushed Jingyan as far as he can take. He takes his leave as quickly as etiqette allows.

When Lin Shu arrives back at Sir Su’s house, he finds himself looking around at it for the first time since he has been back. With the hope that his engagement is finally resolved, a weight has lifted off him. The last obligation tying him to his old life is finally coming lose, and he feels a strange sense of vertigo. He is on the edge of freedom but also on the verge of becoming frighteningly unmoored. He wanders slowly through the house, feeling like it belongs to another person, another life.

He is a ghost now, he realises, with some bitter amusement. He is the pale ghost of both Lin Shu who died and Mei Changsu who avenged him. Whatever place he occupies now, he will only be haunting it. He can haunt Jinling City, or the Jiangzuo Alliance, or Langya Hall, or the pugilist world, but wherever he goes, he will be a translucent shadow, there but not there, until he is finally no longer there at all.

He sits down on the edge of the walkway and leans his head against the pillar, looking out at the garden. He has discharged his obligations to Jingyan and Nihuang. It is time for him to fade away.

The next day, he sits on the edge of the walkway again while his household makes preparations for leaving. He hasn’t told them where they’re going yet. The truth is, he doesn’t know, and from the irritated looks Li Gang has been giving him, Li Gang knows it.

They’ll go first to Langya Hall, Lin Shu supposes. From there he can retreat further into the mountains, and live out his life as a recluse. He weighs up the options of where he can go, far enough out of the world that nobody will bother him, but not so far that Fei Liu has nobody to play with.

“Chief,” Li Gang interrupts. “The Princess is requesting to see you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Lin Shu asks him. “I do not have visitors.”

Li Gang bows. “Chief. The Princess has not come as a visitor. She has brought the entire Mu Palace Guard with her. They have us surrounded, and she says she will not leave or let anybody in or out until she has spoken to you. They are very well-armed. I think you are going to have to invite her in.”

Lin Shu finds himself oddly proud to hear this. Mu Nihuang is a clever and powerful woman. He lets Li Gang help him up and get him seated to greet her.

When she enters, she is dressed in her most lavish formal robes, but she is storming in like she is on the battlefield. “Lin Shu!” she yells, and points a finger at him like she wishes it was a sword. “I have just paid my respects to the Emperor, and he tells me you have been busy arranging my marriage. Is this true?”

“It is,” he says, mentally cursing Jingyan. What was he thinking, to tell her about his proposal instead of subtly encouraging it? Lin Shu silently kicks himself for not anticipating Jingyan’s personality.

“What gives you the right?” Nihuang shouts. “It’s not enough for you to discard me like some unwanted rubbish? You also have to force me into another marriage so that I'm not your problem any more? Are you no better than that old Emperor, or Noble Consort Yue, with their vile schemes to marry me off to suit their purposes?”

Lin Shu holds up his arms, trying to placate her. “Please, Princess, hear me out on this. It’s not like that. Jingrui–-”

“Xiao Jingrui is an honourable man and wants nothing to do with this plot of yours! How dare you drag him into this too?”

“Princess, please, you must give him a chance.”

She paces his floor, furious. “Give him a chance? Have you completely forgotten who it is you were engaged to? I was betrothed to you when I was fourteen years old, and in all the years since, I have stayed true to our engagement. You may not honour it any more, but I will honour the arrangement made by my parents and yours when they were still alive!”

“Princess, that is why you must consider Jingrui! Or somebody else – anybody but me. You cannot be tied to that past commitment for the rest of your life.”

“Why can’t I?” she snaps. “My commitment hasn’t changed. The commitment made my our parents has not changed.”

“No, I have changed! I am not who you were engaged to. I cannot be who I was in the past. Princess, look at me! Look at who I am now! You were betrothed to Lin Shu but I am not Lin Shu any more!”

She rears back. “And I never thought I would hear somebody as smart as Lin Shu say anything so stupid! If my arm or my leg is taken off after a battle, will I still be Nihuang? If my face gets scarred by sword or fire, will I still be Nihuang? When I’m old and forgetful like great-grandmother, will I still be Nihuang?”

“It is not the same,” he says desperately. “I can’t stay on a horse or lift a sword. I can’t ever ride into battle with you!”

“Lin Shu,” she snaps, “I have been on the battlefield for sixteen years! I am scarred. I am tired. I have many injuries. I lead the Mu army to support the Emperor and protect Yunnan, but I will gladly stop riding into battle in order to be with you.”

“Princess, no,” he begs. “Please, reconsider your future. Don’t waste your life on this engagement.”

“Waste my life? Waste my life? I have waited my whole life to be with you! I have held you in my heart after the Emperor declared you a traitor. I have held you in my heart for twelve lonely years after you died! I have held myself apart from you while you cleared your family’s name. Lin Shu, how can you sit there and deny me everything that I have waited for?”

“Princess, please, stop,” he cries. “I am not Lin Shu any more! You must accept that Lin Shu died at Meiling!”

“I do not accept that Lin Shu died at Meiling!” she shouts. “And I have had enough of you saying he did! He didn’t die!” She gestures at him like he is a target. “He is right here in front of me!”

“I am not the same person!” he shouts back. “Princess, I am not who you were engaged to!”

“You have always been the same person!” She throws her hands in the air. “I am sick of you telling everyone that you are different! Everything about you is the same!”

“Mei Changsu is a different—”

“Who hated to see cruelty and suffering of innocent creatures?” she shouts over the top of him. “Lin Shu! Who rescued Fei Liu, then? Not a cold and calculating person; that was Lin Shu!”

“Princess–-” he tries, but she carries right past him.

"Who learned military strategy at the knee of Lin Xie and diplomacy at the knee of the Yan Que? Lin Shu! Who grew the largest alliance in the pugilist world? Who sent Wei Zheng to help me at Qingmin river? Who cleared two noble princes and their factions from Jingyan’s path to the crown? That was Lin Shu who knew how to do those things!

"Who found hidden pathways and invented devious games and played clever tricks on his friends and his rivals? Lin Shu! Who laid traps for Xie Yu and Xia Jiang and Prince Yu? Lin Shu did!

"Who had the loyalty and trust of every last survivor of the Chiyan army? Who gained the friendship and support of Xia Dong and Commander Meng? Who convinced Xiao Jingyan, the disgraced prince who hated politics, to fight his brothers for the crown? A calculating strategist like Mei Changsu could never have done those things; those things were done by Lin Shu.

“Who devoted his life to clearing the names of the Lin Family and Prince Qi? Who survived a terrible poison and its terrible cure to have a chance at justice? Who didn’t rest until the truth was known? It was not Mei Changsu who gave everything for that cause; it was Lin Shu!”

She surges forward and Lin Shu realises, suddenly, that he is staring up at the fierce and formidable General of the renowned Mu Army, and that her eyes glitter and her teeth are bared and she is bearing down on him like she is leading her cavalry to smash through his enemy lines, sword high, devastation spreading in her wake.

“That is who Lin Shu is. Now I will tell you who Mei Changsu is! Mei Changsu is a liar, because he takes credit for the accomplishments of Lin Shu! He is an oathbreaker, because he does not honour the promises made by Lin Shu!” She is weeping, now, and screaming. “And he is a murderer, because he keeps Lin Shu buried in the ground at Meiling, when everyone else is trying to bring him back to life!”

He can only stare up at her, like a man with a sword hilt in his chest and the blade sticking out of his back.

“I am finished with Mei Changsu!” Nihuang roars, and is gone.

A long time later, it is dark.

Fei Liu comes to sit beside him, chewing on a pear.

“Su-gege was bad,” Fei Liu says.

“I certainly was,” he agrees. His chest still feels like a sword has been run through it.

In the morning, he is exhausted. His bones ache, his head pounds, his hands tremble, his stomach is queasy.

He calls for his carriage.

At Mu Mansion, he shuffles through the gate, leaning heavily on Li Gang and Fei Liu. He bows to the servant who greets him. “I am not well today. Please ask if the Princess is willing to meet me here.”

They sit him down and it is not long before Nihuang approaches, slow and regal. They help him up again. “How kind of Sir Su to visit,” she says coolly. Mu Qing lurks behind her, ominous.

Feeling half in another lifetime, he bows over her hand and brushes his lips against the tips of her fingers.

In another lifetime, this had been a daring act: mischievous, impertinent, impatient. At that time, Nihuang had pulled her hand away in mock outrage and spun away from him, hiding her laugh and her blush.

In this lifetime, she freezes.

“Nihuang,” he says, hoarse. “I have been stupid and dishonourable.”

Her lips move but she doesn’t say it: Lin Shu?

He trembles and reaches out, and her arms go around him tightly.

“Lin Shu-gege,” she whispers.

Like a bolt of lightning striking him, he realises that the Lin Shu-gege she has been waiting for all this time was actually him. Her Lin Shu-gege wasn’t a memory; he wasn’t history. She realised that Lin Shu was plotting the downfall of the Crown Prince and Prince Yu. She watched Lin Shu groom Jingyan to take their place. She helped Lin Shu force the Emperor to re-open the case. She wanted Lin Shu to restore the name of the Lin family.

“I’m sorry,” he says brokenly. “I didn’t understand.”

All this time, she knew far better than he did that Su Zhe and Mei Changsu were really Lin Shu. He’d believed for so many years that he’d had to become another person, but the person he has been since the Chiyan massacre has always, all of this time, been Lin Shu.

Lin Shu, it turns out –- and he sobs into Nihuang’s neck at realising this –- did not become the final victim of the Chiyan conspiracy. The slaughter of his family, his crown prince, his comrades and his friends; all the betrayal and all the suffering... his true name and his true self have survived.

When he is finally able to stop weeping, he looks up at Nihuang’s face, which is shining and covered in tears.

He brushes uselessly at the wetness on her cheeks. “I’m sorry I made you wait for so long,” he tells her.

“I have always known that you would come back for me,” she says, as sure of him as she has always been.

He has been given such a gift in her, but his mind is spinning and he can’t find any words to express it.

“Come,” she says, taking his hand. “You are not well. You should rest.”

The courtyard has emptied without him noticing, and the house is eerily empty too. She leads him to her bed and helps him lie down. It is improper for him to be here, but he can’t find the willpower to care. She lies down next to him with her head on his chest. He breathes in the scent of her and feels the thrumming warmth of her skin. He remembers how it used to feel, to long for her; to count the days until he would see her again, and the years until they could marry.

He is exhausted from a journey so long that he can hardly remember a time when he was not on it. He curls up around her and sleeps.

In the morning when he wakes up, she is sitting by his side, smiling gently at him. He smiles back, fuzzy, and this time her smile increases.

“You have not changed your mind, then?” she says.

“I have never changed my mind,” he tells her. “But my mind was clouded.” He kisses her hand. “That will not happen again.”

“That is good,” she says firmly. “If you had caused me any more heartache, I would have let Mu Qing deal with you.”

He sits up carefully, taking stock: he is tired and his bones ache and his head hurts, but it’s not as bad as yesterday.

“I had better to go to the palace,” he tells her.

When they are shown in to the audience hall, Jingyan takes one look at them and sends away all the ministers.

Lin Shu and Nihuang bow to him and he rises from the throne, descending the steps slowly.

“I take it my stupid friend has finally stopped being stupid,” he says.

“I’m sorry,” Lin Shu tells him.

Jingyan’s fist clenches, and Lin Shu sees it coming but he is not fast enough to escape the blow to his jaw. It sends him sprawling halfway across the room.

“Jingyan!” Nihuang screams, and plants herself in front of him. The Imperial guards step forward, hands on swords.

“Nihuang, it’s all right,” Lin Shu tells her, holding his jaw.

She looks back and forth between them for a moment, and then throws up her hands. “I am going to pay my respects to the Empress,” she says, and stalks out.

Jingyan comes over to him and holds out his hand. Lin Shu takes it and lets Jingyan gently help him up.

“I know you can’t hit me back,” he says, “but I will tell my mother what I’ve done, and she will give me such a tongue lashing that we’ll be even.”

“That’s fair,” Lin Shu agrees.

“Xiao-Shu,” Jingyan says. “Have you finally come to your senses?”

Lin Shu has missed Jingyan like a torn-off limb, and he steps forward to embrace his best friend. “I have,” he says, as Jingyan’s powerful arms come around him and threaten to crush him. “I'm sorry.”

Nihuang is still somewhere in the inner palace, so Lin Shu heads out by himself. He stops in at Aunt Liyang’s house on his way home, since it is a day for apologising.

Jingrui greets him coldly. “Sir Su.”

“Your cousin begs your forgiveness, xiao-Jingrui,” Lin Shu tells him, and bows. When he sits up again, he gestures to his own face. “Jingyan has already hit me on this side, so please choose the other side if you need to do the same.”

Jingrui’s mouth falls open; it is some time before he shakes himself and closes it again. “Lin Shu-gege,” he says, in wonder and delight. “Is it really you?”

Aunt Jing and Aunt Liyang take the wedding planning out of their hands with such subtlety and exquisite taste that it takes Lin Shu and Nihuang days to realise it has even happened. In no time at all, the dowry is arranged, the auspicious date is chosen, the robes are made, the guests are en route and the banquet menu is set, and they have done nothing except nod in amazed agreement.

“Aunt Jing, Aunt Liyang,” he tells them, “you have been too good to me.”

“Of course I have not,” Aunt Jing tells him, and puts her hand on his cheek like he is a little boy again. “Xiao-Shu, it has been my dearest wish to see you happy again.”

Aunt Liyang is more bashful. “Your mother was very proud of her son,” she says. “I have tried my hardest to give him the wedding she would have wanted.”

As the guests arrive in the capital, he is reunited with Xia Dong and Nie Feng, Wei Zheng, Zhen Ping. His house is filling up with visitors, and so is Nihuang’s.

There is one guest Lin Shu has been waiting a long time to see, and as soon as he hears he has arrived, he heads straight towards the gate to meet him.

“Xiao-Shu!” he exclaims, striding in.

“Meng-dage,” Lin Shu tells him, and greets him with a long and fierce hug. “If I told you how much I missed your advice these last few years, you wouldn’t even believe me.”

Meng laughs. “Of course I don’t believe you,” he says. “You never take my advice!”

They catch up over tea. There is a lot to discuss about the Changlin Army, the northern borders, the Imperial Guards, the southern campaign.

“Xiao-Shu,” Meng says eventually. “You keep distracting me. Stop it and explain what on earth has been happening! First I hear that you have broken off your engagement, and then Crown Prince Jing himself writes to tell me never mind, it’s just you being stupid, but then a year goes by and there is no news, then you are in Jinling, and then Yunnan,” –- his hands are dramatically illustrating these changes in geography –- “and then the Emperor is summoning me to your wedding! It’s so confusing! Why couldn’t you just get married like a normal person?”

“Meng-dage,” Lin Shu advises, “you should ask Jingyan to tell you. I think you will agree with his version of this story.”

Meng slaps his knee decisively. “I will, then, and at least he will tell me clearly! Now,” –- he looks around eagerly –- “where is Fei Liu?”

They hear Lin Chen is in the city a few days before he actually appears. He chooses his entrance, of course, for maximum impact, as Lin Shu and Nihuang are sitting down to eat with Lin Shu’s guests and the Yan family.

The first sign is that Fei Liu suddenly looks up and hisses.

“Fei Liu,” Nihuang says, concerned. “Is there something wrong?”

“Of course not,” Lin Chen says grandly, striding in. “He is just happy to see me, are you not, xiao-Fei Liu?”

Fei Liu bares his teeth and flees into the garden, while Yujin, Wei Zheng and the others from the Da Yu campaign jump up to boisterously greet Lin Chen.

“Young Master Lin,” Nihuang invites when the noise dies down. “Please, join us. I understand that I owe you many thanks for your talents as a physician.”

“If only I could have cured his stupidity,” Lin Chen says sadly, and sits down in Fei Liu’s place.

“Now wait a minute,” Yujin says. “Lin Chen-gege! I have remembered something! Lin Shu-gege invited you to cause trouble in Southern Chu! But did you come? I didn’t see you there!”

“Of course I came,” Lin Chen says, and glares at him, offended. “I never miss an opportunity to cause trouble.”

Yujin and Marquis Yan look at him quizzically, but Gong Yu’s lips are twitching.

“I suspect the lady here knows more about this than we do,” Lin Shu says, pointing at her.

“Gong Yu!” Yujin cries. “Have you kept a secret from me?”

“Of course not, my love,” she assures him, putting a hand on his arm. “But I think I can piece together parts of the story, if you would like to hear it?”

They clamour, of course, to hear it, while Lin Chen basks in his anticipated glory.

“There was a new sword instructor that the palace ladies often discussed. They were always planning how they could cross paths with him in a courtyard or a training room. He was regarded as a rogue, but very handsome.”

Yujin grins widely. “That sounds like our Lin Chen!”

“I am so pleased that you both think I’m handsome!” Lin Chen says.

“I expect they only think you are a rogue,” Lin Shu corrects him. “Madam Yan, please continue.”

“The rest is only guessing,” Gong Yu says modestly. “This swordmaster was seen leaping onto the roof of the palace where Prince Ling’s consorts lived, and was also rumoured to have spent the night with the wife of the Prince’s ally, the Duke.”

“Ah,” Marquis Yan muses. “I remember you telling me these rumours. The Prince and his Duke each sensed a fox in their henhouse, and began to suspect the other. Sir Lin, your efforts opened up the cracks that I went on to exploit. ”

Lin Chen fans himself leisurely. “Even though I would like to take all the credit, I didn’t need to do much at all. Those palace ladies really did not like Prince Ling. They went along with everything I suggested, and even came up with some ideas of their own.”

“Nonetheless,” Marquis Yan bows. “You have been of great service to Da Liang.”

“I most certainly have not.” Lin Chen tells him, huffing and folding his arms. “I don’t serve Da Liang. ” He winks at Gong Yu. “I only serve pretty ladies.”

Lin Shu finds himself with only one task left to do before the wedding, but he is standing at the gate to Lin Manor, unable to walk up the steps and go inside.

“Lin Shu-gege?” Nihuang asks, halfway up the steps.

“I don’t think I can,” he admits, throat closing up. “I don’t think I can look at it.” He has avoided this place for so many years, unwilling and unable to bring back the grief and the memories.

Nihuang ascends the remaining steps and sits down on the threshold. “Come sit with me,” she says, patting the stone. “We don’t have to go in if you don’t want. But I’ll tell you what I know about what’s inside.”

She holds out her hand, and he is able to take the few steps to grab her fingers, and another to sit down by her side. She twines their fingers together. He leans his head on her shoulder and feels numbly grateful that he has her.

“Both Aunt Jing and Aunt Liyang remember what Lin Manor was like,” she says. “Jingyan and I have told them our own memories. But it is not going to be the same.”

“I know,” he says. “Jingyan wrote to me that he couldn’t find any of the things that used to be here.”

She squeezes his hand. "No, he couldn’t, and he tried very hard. So they have remade it especially for us. Aunt Jing has supervised the landscaping, so the gardens have many medicinal herbs to enhance your health. She has added extra places for Fei Liu to play. She remembers how your mother loved chrysanthemums so there will be many of those.

“Most of the furniture comes from my dowry, but Aunt Liyang and Prince Ji have provided some family heirlooms that your mother grew up with. Jingyan has given back some things that were once yours, and Marquis Yan has given some things that relate to your father. Where your parents slept will now be the family shrine, and we will choose another room to sleep in. I think it is going to be very simple and very beautiful.”

He takes a deep breath and stares down at their joined hands. She leans her head against his.

“We don’t have to live here if you don’t like it, Lin Shu-gege. We can live in Sir Su’s house, or mine. But I think Lin Manor is going to be different how you are different.” She squeezes his hand again and smiles up at him. “On the surface, it might seem like much has changed, but underneath, this house has always been the same house. It was once condemned, but now its good name is restored. Even through those years of obscurity and neglect, Lin Manor has been patiently waiting for you to return to her.” Her smile turns a little sad. “We kept each other company sometimes, this house and I. I would like us to keep her company in the future.”

“Of course we can,” he says, without thinking –- he wants Nihuang to have everything she desires. And having promised it, he has to make it true, so he stands up.

Knowing how she feels about this house, it is not so difficult to turn to look through the threshold. He is just going to accompany his almost-wife as she explores her new home. This is fine.

His breath is tight in his chest as they cross the threshold, but when he finally looks around, it isn’t hard to let it go. Lin Manor is different -– the gardens, the furniture, the tapestries have all changed completely. He grew up in a military home, shaped by his father’s utilitarian choices. But now it is beautiful, in a way he never imagined was possible. It reminds him of Langya Hall -- serene, assured, peaceful.

As they explore, it feels familiar, too– the lemon scent in the floor wax, the placement of the ornaments, the types of fabrics, the white and grey pebbles on the paths. His skin is prickling with déjà vu, but it’s not unpleasant. Lin Manor doesn’t look the same as it used to, but a hundred tiny details tell him that this is still the Lin family home.

He follows a familiar sound to see the bamboo wind chimes hanging in the south-west corner where they have always been, next to the pond with the ferns and carp. It takes his breath away. This corner was his favourite place, and he remembers it like it was yesterday.

“This was my mother’s when she was a child,” he says, amazed, tapping the bamboo rods to hear the chimes sound again. “Her father bought it for her when he was away on a campaign.” Eventually, he realises. “Aunt Liyang must have had one the same.”

He turns to show Nihuang, but she is already staring at it, with tears running down her face. He rushes to her side. “Nihuang, what’s wrong?”

“They never forgot, Lin Shu-gege,” she says hoarsely. She gestures blindly at the chimes, the pond, the house behind them. “All of us who were left behind, we couldn’t say anything, to anyone, for years. But they never forgot a single thing about what was lost.”

So it turns out that when they finally return to Lin Manor, it is Nihuang who is overwhelmed by grief. She sobs raggedly into his robes, and he holds her under the wind chimes where they once sat as children, and promises that everything will be all right.

The morning of the wedding, he wakes to find Lin Chen sitting beside him, holding his wrist.

Lin Chen is staring out into the garden. After a long time, he puts Lin Shu’s arm down and folds his own, sighing.

“Well,” Lin Shu asks him. “Do I pass?”

“Good enough,” Lin Chen says, still staring out.

Lin Shu sits up and takes Lin Chen’s wrist, feeling for his pulse. He’s not very practised at this. It takes him a moment, but then he has it, surging under his fingertips. He’s not sure, but he thinks it is fast.

Lin Chen finally glances over at him, lips twisting wryly. “Will I live, do you think?”

Guilty and sorrowed, Lin Shu folds both his hands around Lin Chen’s. “I have always had better friends than I deserve,” he tells him. “This marriage, and every year I still have in this life –- I owe them to you.”

“Of course you do,” Lin Chen tells him loftily, withdrawing his hand and folding it into his robes. “Nobody else could have done it.”

Lin Shu huffs out a laugh. “You and your father were both right, you know. I needed to move on to the next life. But you knew better than him, and me, that my next life would be here.”

Lin Chen leans back and stares at him, eyebrow raised. “At last! It took you a ridiculously long time to figure that out. Now,” –- he wags his fan in Lin Shu’s face -– “if you will only find my father and tell him that, I will consider the debt repaid.”

“I will not rest until I have done that,” Lin Shu promises. “And even then, I am more in your debt than I can ever repay.”

“Good,” Lin Chen tells him. “I want Fei Liu then.”

Lin Shu throws a book at him, and gets up to prepare for the day.

The wedding is a blur, of course. Too much ritual, too many faces. The only part he remembers is Nihuang. She looks as young and radiant in her wedding robes as he ever imagined, and the noisy, hazy dazzle all around them feels just like it did when he would lure her away from wherever they were supposed to be, just for the thrill of being in her company.

They arrive at last in their new home, and the babble around them fades away.

“Nihuang,” he tells her. It is everything he has ever needed to say.

They manage a few blissful days in Lin Manor without interruptions, and then Lin Chen barges in and corners him.

“I’m fine,” Lin Shu insists. “I’m doing very well! I have been looking after myself!”

It turns out Lin Shu’s new wife is on Lin Chen’s side when it comes to his health, so he spends the next few days being jabbed, prodded, drained of blood, dosed with bitter potions and forced to sleep.

“I am disappointed in you,” he tells Nihuang when she comes to see how she is doing. “I feel so betrayed.”

“You are allowed to get up soon,” she promises, patting his hand. “I know this is unpleasant for you, but I want to be sure you will be with me for as long as possible.”

“I will do everything I can to ensure that,” he promises, and kisses her hand. “But–”

She covers his mouth. “I am so glad to hear it,” she says sweetly.

When he is finally allowed up, Lin Shu finds Lin Chen in the main sitting area, with a table covered in ingredients. They all look like they taste terrible.

“I’m getting a new medicine?” he guesses.

“Hm,” Lin Chen says, adding a bit of one thing and another to a small pot.

“Can it taste better this time?”

“Hm,” Lin Chen says. “Probably not.”

Lin Shu sighs and sits down across from him, watching him work.

“Changsu,” Lin Chen says suddenly.

“Yes?”

“Your husband-parts are working properly?” he asks, stirring herbs and powders into the potion.

Lin Shu sputters. “My parts are fine, thank you!”

Lin Chen raises his eyebrows at him. “Well, be sure to tell me if anything makes them stop working. If you can’t perform your husbandly duties, I don’t want General Mu coming after me.”

It turns out this version of the medicine contains Milk of Dandelion, so all sorts of things stop working, and General Mu beats Lin Chen over the head with his own fan until he apologises.

Lin Shu watches it from his sick-bed. He is pleased that they are finally getting to know one another.

Once their many visitors have left the capital, Jingyan invites them to the palace to dine with the Imperial family. He is not one for ostentation, so there are only a few people -- the Empress, Aunt Jing and Tingsheng.

“I have an additional wedding present for each of you,” Jingyan tells them as the last dishes are taken away.

Nihuang and the Empress look up at him, eager to hear what it is. Something in Jingyan’s tone, though, makes Lin Shu look more closely.

“Jingyan, what are you up to?” he asks.

Jingyan grins at him in a way that spells nothing good. “I have decided to give you both something that will make you very happy –- more work!”

Nihuang turns to stare at him, and then back at Jingyan. “Your Majesty?” she says cautiously.

“Princess,” Jingyan tells her, sobering. “Since I was crowned and Commander Meng was transferred to the Changlin army, Lie Zhanying has overseen both the Imperial Guards and the Capital Patrols. I’m transferring the Capital Patrols to you. Zhanying’s wife will thank both of us –- she complains that she is forgetting what he looks like.”

Nihuang beams at him. “Thank you, your Majesty.” She bows. “I will not disappoint you.”

“Imperial Tutor Lin,” Jingyan says, and Lin Shu bows. “Your Emperor commands you to start taking your responsibilties seriously or risk his wrath.”

“I-– what?” he says. “Your Majesty?”

Jingyan glares at him. “You have been the Imperial Tutor for how long?”

“Uh.” Lin Shu thinks. “Nearly two years?”

“And you are teaching how many children?”

“Two? Your two sons, Your Majesty?” He gestures at Tingsheng, who is watching with interest.

“Lin Shu,” Jingyan says, looking deeply disappointed. “Who was your tutor when you were a child?”

“Imperial Tutor–- oh.”

“And who else did Imperial Tutor Li Chong teach?”

Lin Shu hangs his head in shame. “Imperial Tutor Li Chong taught any person, child or adult, inside the palace walls or out, who wished to learn.”

“And what else did Imperial Tutor Li Chong manage?”

“The training of teachers,” Lin Shu admits. “The production of books for classrooms. The experts on the essential knowledge in every discipline. Public courses and lectures for the betterment of the people.”

“Do you think,” Jingyan asks, and he is trying to be stern, but a smile is slipping through, “that this much work is beyond your capabilities?”

Lin Shu looks over at Nihuang, who is covering her mouth to hide her laughter. Aunt Jing is also covering her mouth. Tingsheng looks like he can’t believe his fortune, getting to watch his tutor get lectured by his father.

“But Jingyan,” Lin Shu protests. “I thought you only made me Imperial Tutor to force me to come to the capital!”

“Of course I did,” Jingyan tells him. “But have you forgotten who you grew up with? When I give someone a task, I expect it to be done properly.”

“Your Majesty,” Lin Shu bows. His mind is already racing towards all the things he needs to arrange. He has been appointed the Imperial Tutor. There are so many things he can do with this. “From this day forward, I will not disappoint you.”

Jingyan smiles, one of his rare, wide grins. “Xiao-Shu,” he says, “I know you will not.”

Sometimes he still has nightmares. Xie Yu, flames, swords. Blood, horses, screaming. His father. Falling.

He still wakes up in a sweat, gasping.

“Lin Shu-gege, it’s all right,” Nihuang tells him, holding his shoulders, shaking him gently. Her hair falls down around her face. “Listen to me. It’s all right. You re-opened the case. You cleared their names. Jingyan is the Emperor. Everything is all right.”

He clutches her hands. “Is it?” he whispers, as the currents of nightmare and memory swirl through his mind. “Is it really all right?”

She pushes the hair back from his face and cups his cheeks with her hands. “Yes, Lin Shu-gege,” she says. “It’s all right. You made it right.”

He leans forward until his forehead is touching hers. She strokes his hair until his breathing slows. Gradually, the present comes back to him. He is at home in Lin Manor. He married Nihuang. Their children sleep in the next room, with Fei Liu protecting them.

It’s all right. He is going to be all right.