Darren Chang, Harris Ma, and Jack Golden had indulged in three days of reckless gambling, while Lena Sanders watched on, thoroughly entertained.
On the fourth day of the New Year, Lena awoke late in the morning, stretching lazily before gathering her three companions and heading straight for Renhe Tavern.
Castleton was famed for its seventy-two authentic establishments—each boasting its own house-brewed wine and signature dishes. Lena had decided she would visit and sample all seventy-two, beginning with the one closest to her home: Renhe Tavern.
The entrance bustled with carriages and crowds. As Lena stepped through the lively doorway, a cheerful young attendant hurried forward, bowing with utmost respect. "My lady, did you happen to make a reservation before the New Year?"
"Are there no seats for those who didn't?" Lena asked, raising a brow.
The attendant smiled politely. "I'm afraid so, my lady. Before the Lantern Festival, even the small tables are fully booked—some patrons made their reservations as early as last year."
Lena returned his bow with a light gesture, stepped aside, and moved on to Jiang Tavern.
But Jiang Tavern too was full. From there, she went to Yicheng Tower, then Ban Pavilion, and finally Liu Tower—by the time they arrived, the afternoon sun was already waning. Fortune smiled on them at last: a table had just been vacated. The spot wasn't ideal—tucked in a corner on the second floor—but Lena found it pleasant enough. From that vantage point, one could observe the entire hall; hardly a poor position in her eyes. And even if it were, she was not one to fuss.
Once seated, Lena ordered with her usual boldness: "One of every dish on today's menu. And bring us four bottles of your best house wine."
All four of them had hearty appetites—especially Darren Chang, who could fight ten men at once and eat as if to prove it.
The steward responded with a crisp "At once!" and soon returned with several plates of fruit and fragrant tea.
As Lena sipped her tea, the door to a private room at the far end of the second floor opened. Out stepped Shen Mingshu, the eldest son of Marquis Yongping, followed by Paul Denton, the assistant envoy to the Crown Prince.
Harris Ma leaned forward eagerly to whisper an introduction near Lena's ear. "The young one in the pale yellow robe—that's Shen Mingshu, eldest son of the Marquis of Yongping. Seventeen—no, wait, eighteen now that the New Year's passed. The other one's Paul Denton, assistant envoy to His Highness the Prince Heir. He was imprisoned by the Ministry of Justice not long ago, just released a few days past. Oh, and he's Chancellor Pan's youngest legitimate son—quite the noble pedigree!"
Harris rattled off the details with admiration sparkling in his eyes, then smacked his lips in awe.
Castleton truly was a city of the elite—wherever one turned, one might bump into nobility.
As Harris resumed his seat, Shen Mingshu and Paul Denton had already drawn within a dozen paces of their table.
Shen Mingshu's gaze locked onto Lena's; recognition flickered in his eyes, and he narrowed them sharply.
Lena greeted him with a dazzling smile and a playful wave.
"Who's that?" Paul asked curiously. "Someone you know? She looks rather… wild."
"I don't know her," Shen replied tersely, turning his head away.
"Oh?" Paul arched an eyebrow, the hum of his question rising with amusement. He couldn't help but glance back at Lena several more times.
Shen's reaction was hardly one of a stranger's—there was something there, perhaps a story untold.
But how could someone like him know her?
Still, that girl—her looks were striking, her aura even more so.
Shen was known for his restraint, his austerity—never one to chase women. Yet at his age, seventeen or eighteen, what young man didn't harbor a spark of desire?
Paul found the thought intriguing. There was something captivating about a woman with a bit of wildness, a hint of danger—like a rose with thorns.
Ah, what a promising start to the New Year indeed.
At that very moment, a middle-aged man of about forty stepped aside at the gate to let Shen Mingshu and Paul Denton pass, then entered Liu Tower himself.
Ascending the stairs, he looked up—and there, across the landing, sat Lena Sanders, raising a cup of wine to her lips. His eyes widened as though struck by lightning; his face drained of color. Before she could meet his gaze, he turned away in panic and fled.
At the corner upstairs, Harris Ma and Jack Golden were savoring several cold dishes, while Darren Chang waited with chopsticks poised. Once they finished tasting, he swept up the remaining food with gusto.
Lena took her time—sipping her wine, sampling a dish, and savoring each bite. Not bad, she thought. The flavor was good, though the wine fell short compared to Yupo's brew.
"Boss," Harris finally remembered to ask after finishing his tasting, "why did you greet Young Master Shen just now? He didn't even acknowledge us."
"He's helped us before," Lena replied cheerfully. "It's only right to greet him."
Jack Golden chuckled. "Right! Especially after he gave us thirty, forty thousand taels—worth a hello at least."
"Bah! Since when does the boss care about silver?" Harris scoffed. "You've got eyes only for money!"
"Your boss always has eyes for silver—and only for silver," Lena said with mock seriousness before either could retort.
Jack burst into laughter, and Harris followed.
To be teased by their leader was an honor in itself.
After all, their boss was a discerning woman—so discerning she wouldn't waste even a scolding on someone unworthy.
On the fifth day of the New Year, that afternoon, Gavin Shea entered Brightpeace Palace carrying a plain rosewood box.
Gu Jin sat beneath the veranda, reading in the warm sunlight. Seeing Gavin approach, he set the book aside and smiled. "You rested yesterday? You look much better. You'd worn yourself out these past days."
"Yes," Gavin replied, setting the box on the low table before Gu Jin, then stretched out his long legs beside him. "I really was exhausted. Ever since the Kitchen God Festival, I've been busy past midnight every day. Even Eldest Brother's grown thinner."
"I'm all right," Gu Jin said with a soft smile. "I never sleep much anyway. You, on the other hand, love your sleep. I remember when you were little—you used to cling to Mother, whining that you never got enough." He patted Gavin's shoulder affectionately.
"I really didn't," Gavin laughed. "Now I barely sleep at all. Yesterday, I thought I'd finally catch up on rest—but I woke at dawn and couldn't fall back asleep."
"You've grown up," Gu Jin said quietly. "If Mother were still alive, she'd be so proud to see you grown and strong." His voice trembled faintly.
"You've done well too, Brother. Aunt would be glad to see us both thriving."
Gavin blinked rapidly, fighting back the sting in his eyes, and changed the subject. "Tomorrow's your birthday. Look at this—you'll like it."
He pushed the rosewood box toward Gu Jin.
"Tomorrow's the day, so why bring it now?" Gu Jin asked, amused.
"I'll be inspecting the outskirts tomorrow," Gavin murmured, lowering his gaze.
"Bring it tomorrow anyway. Zhizhen and Zhihe will come too—we'll celebrate together," Gu Jin said gently but firmly.
"Brother, Marquis Shen just passed away—it's been less than a month. Wouldn't it be improper? Better to avoid it." Gavin frowned slightly, looking uncomfortable.
"Avoid what? And from whom?" Gu Jin's tone sharpened.
"I just… don't want to see anyone from that courtyard—or the Shen family," Gavin said bluntly after a pause.
"Do you think you can avoid everyone you dislike?" Gu Jin's voice softened again. "If you were Ayue, perhaps. But you're not. You have us—your two elder brothers."
Gavin's shoulders slumped. After a long moment, he muttered, "I'll come tomorrow."
"Remember what Mother said," Gu Jin reminded him gently. "From the day of your coming-of-age, you are no longer a child. No more stubbornness."
"I remember," Gavin whispered, eyes rimmed red. "I just… miss Aunt so much. When I was in Riverford City, lying in that cart—I heard her voice calling me 'Ah Di,' telling me not to fall asleep, saying we were almost there. I thought… if I died, maybe I'd see her again."
Gu Jin's voice grew firm. "Mother has passed on. Even in death, we won't see her again. Remember her words: live well." He drew a deep breath, forcing himself out of sorrow. "Enough. Open the box. Let me see what gift you've brought me."