Chapter 18: The Veil That Almost Didn't Hold

Hu Bo'er came striding in from the right side of the city wall, cheerful and entirely unaware of what the two of them had just seen. "After inspecting this gate, will the military commander be making the rounds of the others himself?"

Mu Changzhou glanced at Shunyin, then started down the steps. "No need. You can handle the rest."

Shunyin watched him descend, watched his hands disappear into his sleeves, and followed. She couldn't have said exactly when the feeling had taken hold — only that it had, steadily, over the course of the afternoon: the sense that he already knew. That his silence wasn't restraint. It was certainty.

They reached the bottom and mounted their horses, and Mu Changzhou turned to her. "Yinniang — did you still want to see those curious sights along the road?"

The Hu merchants and their small stone pagoda. She had nearly forgotten. "Of course," she said.

So they doubled back toward the main street.

The first group of merchants was gone. In their place, a cluster of older Hu men knelt around the same three-tiered pagoda, murmuring with the same earnestness as their predecessors.

Shunyin dismounted and stood to one side, watching them. Their lips moved in a low, continuous rhythm. She turned. "Second Brother Mu, can you understand what they're saying?"

Around them, the street remained loud — the archers had moved aside to give the worshippers space, but the noise of the city hadn't dimmed. Mu Changzhou held his horse to her right and tilted his head toward her. "They're praying for wealth without end," he said, "and freedom from deception."

The last four words came in his low, unhurried voice and seemed to reach something beneath her skin. She raised an eyebrow, just slightly. "Is that so?"

"Yes."

Shunyin composed herself and loosened the reins. "It looks rather effective. Perhaps I should try."

Mu Changzhou turned to look at her.

She had already brought her hands together, closed her eyes, head bowed, her profile pale and still in the afternoon light. Her lashes lay long against her cheeks, like brushstrokes. Her expression was entirely serene — the kind of quiet that seemed to stand apart from the world around it.

He watched her for a moment longer than he should have.

"What did you pray for?" he asked.

Shunyin opened her eyes. "Nothing."

I prayed that the man I married would give me what I want and stop asking questions.

Mu Changzhou swung back into the saddle and laughed — a short, genuine sound. "Praying to Buddha is useless, but praying to this will be?"

Shunyin pressed her lips together, straightened her veil, and pulled herself up onto her horse without dignifying that with a response. The answer, for the moment, was no. He had not granted her wish.

---

The outing had only been a few hours, but returning to the military commander's residence felt like a longer journey than it was.

Shunyin stayed close behind Mu Changzhou on the way back, always a half-step to his left and behind him — obedient in a way that was, for today, genuine.

They had barely come through the gate when Changfeng appeared, moving quickly. "Military Commander — the clerk has arrived. There are matters requiring your decision."

Mu Changzhou glanced back at Shunyin and headed for the front courtyard.

She caught his look and followed. A few steps in, she saw them: several soldiers in formation around a man kneeling on the ground, his clothes dark with old blood, his head lolling to one side. Zhang Junfeng stood nearby, hand resting on the hilt of his sword, and stepped forward as soon as he saw Mu Changzhou. "Commander. The Grand Commander has issued an order — a city-wide search for spies."

Shunyin kept her expression neutral.

Zhang Junfeng continued: "This man was apprehended outside the East Gate this morning. On him they found—" He paused, glancing at her.

Shunyin let her fingers move along the draped edge of her veil, smoothing it, her gaze drifting slightly — the picture of a wife who happened to be present and was politely not paying close attention.

Mu Changzhou said evenly: "Continue."

Zhang Junfeng looked between them, then went on. "A recruitment order. Issued from several prefectures in the Central Plains near Hexi. The patrol troops believe those prefectures may be secretly raising troops — and that this man's presence in Liangzhou suggests Liangzhou itself is the target. He was brought here for the military command to determine."

Raising troops.

Shunyin's fingers stilled against the veil.

Impossible. Covert troop-raising took time — months at minimum before it could be discovered. If Qinzhou had started anything, Feng Wuji would have said so in his last letter. He was the one who knew those matters. And moving that quickly, that carelessly, would only invite trouble. None of this had the shape of something real.

Mu Changzhou held out his hand. Zhang Junfeng produced the recruitment order from inside his coat and passed it over.

Mu Changzhou unfolded it, looked at it once, and handed it back. "Fake."

Zhang Junfeng took it and examined it closely, eyes widening. He nearly said the words aloud — almost said Central Plains spies — but caught himself with a glance at Shunyin and swallowed it. "Fake things always give themselves away somehow. Since the commander says so, it must be."

Shunyin released her hold on the veil.

She knew the order was false. But the question that replaced it sat heavier: why was another fabrication pointing at the Central Plains?

Mu Changzhou turned slightly toward her. "My wife and I are still newlyweds. Everyone at court knows of the Grand Steward's loyalty to the capital. Even if the Central Plains dispatched spies, it would not come to open conflict."

He said my wife. He was speaking to Zhang Junfeng — but he was looking at her. Shunyin looked away. She didn't understand why he was saying it this openly, with her standing here. She had no business standing here.

He added, "I expect the Grand Commander came to the same conclusion — that someone is stirring the pot — which is why he ordered the investigation."

"Exactly so," Zhang Junfeng said.

"Interrogate him thoroughly. Report back when you're done."

Zhang Junfeng drew his sword, turned to the soldiers, and gave the order. They dragged the man away.

Shunyin made a point of not watching. She turned and walked toward the backyard at an ordinary pace — not hurrying, not hesitating. She had learned, over the years, that stillness was more convincing than movement.

Steady footsteps followed behind her.

Mu Changzhou came alongside her as they entered the backyard.

Shengyu appeared at once, took Shunyin's veil with both hands, and announced with practiced formality: "The meal has been prepared. Would the military commander and his wife care to dine in the hall?"

Before Shunyin could answer, Mu Changzhou had already passed her, walking straight toward the main house. "No need. Bring it to the main house."

Shengyu bowed immediately, shot a quick look at Shunyin, and gestured for her to follow.

Shunyin had already understood, from the conversation in the courtyard, something about where this was going. She looked at his retreating back for a moment, then followed at her own pace.

---

The main house was considerably larger than her east room. She looked around when she stepped in.

It was sparsely furnished — more so than she'd expected. A wooden couch along the east wall. A six-panel screen in the center, each panel inlaid with a different proverb, elegant in a restrained way. A wooden bow stand. A table that held what looked like a map.

No bed in sight. Presumably behind the screen.

She stood near the door and felt an odd flutter of discomfort.

Mu Changzhou was already loosening his sleeves. He looked over, his gaze resting on her face for a brief moment, and the corner of his mouth curved. "Yinniang, why so hesitant? This is practically your room too."

Shunyin blinked. The auspicious date — the one that had not yet been discussed — surfaced in her mind and immediately sank again. She stepped inside, two measured steps, and said lightly: "First time in here. I was simply looking."

Shengyu arrived before any silence could settle, trailing several maids behind her. They set up a small table quickly, laid out food, brought hot soup.

Mu Changzhou washed his hands in the water a maid brought, sat down on the right side of the table, and looked up.

Shunyin took a handkerchief, wiped her hands, and sat to his left.

Shengyu assessed the room in one glance, then guided everyone out. The military commander and his wife had been together all day — she wasn't about to interrupt whatever was or wasn't happening between them. She might have mentioned the auspicious date if she weren't so careful about minding her own business.

---

Shunyin picked up her chopsticks and stole a sidelong glance.

Mu Changzhou sat with the ease of someone entirely at home in his own skin, back straight but not stiff, unhurried. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of what he must have looked like when he was younger.

She looked away.

He said: "Yinniang, you saw some new things today. How are your manuscripts coming along?"

She had braced herself for the conversation to circle back to the spy. This surprised her. Her chopsticks paused for half a second, then resumed their movement. "Still a long way off," she said, tone unchanged. "The manuscript is still fragmented."

Mu Changzhou set down his chopsticks and looked at her. "Then perhaps you could show it to me another day."

"As long as you don't mind clumsy writing, we can arrange that."

He didn't press further. They ate.

The food was good. Shunyin had no sense of it at all.

It wasn't that the manuscript held anything damning — only a handful of innocuous lines. But eating across from Mu Changzhou, she couldn't shake the feeling that the situation was inverted: that she wasn't the one hiding something from him. That he was the one who already knew, and was withholding it from her.

The meal ended quietly. Shengyu brought fresh tea.

Mu Changzhou picked up his cup, stood, and walked to the table by the window. He said, with a casualness that didn't quite ring true: "We had a free afternoon, so I took Yinniang out. I may as well take care of that letter for her too. Have you decided how to reply?"

Shunyin looked at him. She thought for a moment. "No. The last time you asked why I hadn't mentioned our marriage in the letter, I assumed you were displeased. I decided to hold off on replying for now."

The last letter had been written on thin, loosely woven paper — the kind that crumpled easily, that wouldn't last long even if no one burned it. She had asked Lu Tiao to burn it regardless. She was keeping her story consistent with what had been on that page.

Mu Changzhou looked at her. "I'm not displeased. Reply however you like. I'll read it and send it today."

Shunyin held his gaze.

He returned it without flinching, without performing anything — the same settled certainty she'd seen when he discovered her left ear, the same plainness he'd worn when he told her she was quick-witted. He wasn't testing her. He had already arrived somewhere, and these conversations were the aftermath.

Something crystallized in her chest.

She rose from where she sat, crossed the short distance to his side, and lifted her sleeve to take a pen from the table. She held it out to him. "Then why don't you write it, Second Brother Mu?"

He looked at her. "Me?"

"That way, you won't have to investigate anything. You can send it the moment it's done. And I won't have to figure out how to explain our marriage to Wuji." Her expression was perfectly even. She moved the pen forward another inch and pressed it lightly against the back of his hand. "Isn't that simpler?"

His brow moved — barely, but it did.

She had taken his maneuver and returned it. What had been her problem was now, neatly, his.

They regarded each other across the small distance. Neither moved.

When it became apparent he wasn't going to take the pen, Shunyin set it flat on the table, pulled her sleeve back, and reached for the ink stone.

Mu Changzhou's hand closed around her wrist.

She stopped.

From outside, Changfeng's voice came through the door, quick and clipped: "Military Commander — the clerk reports the interrogation is complete."

The grip on her wrist loosened. His hand withdrew.

Mu Changzhou looked at her for one more moment. "We'll finish this when I return." He turned and walked out, his long strides carrying him through the door before the sound of his footsteps had properly registered.

Shunyin stood where he'd left her.

She brought her hand back into her sleeve — the one that had been grinding ink — and looked at the empty doorway. Tucked a loose strand of hair behind her left ear. Felt her thoughts settle back into place, slowly, the way water levels after something has disturbed it.

For a moment, she had felt it: the veil between them stretched to thinness, one breath away from tearing.

And then the moment had passed, and she was alone in the room.