Liu Boyue wandered through the market, which was filled with more people as the sun continued to rise through the sky. He dressed in the clothes of a commoner, a wide-brimmed hat obscuring part of his face. It was the strategist’s habit to go around undercover once in a while to gather information about popular opinion for Xianchun, but the events of the last few events had necessitated increasing the frequency of his trips. The last incident at the Zhao household the night before last had Boyue making visits on two consecutive days, hoping to catch wind of something that may have slipped from a servant or serving maid and made its way to the public market.

The Seventh Prince’s faction had been on high alert after the mobilization of the Imperial Guards, but beyond the fact that Zhao Wenyuan had been involved, they didn’t know anything. The Zhao heir himself was nowhere to be found, seeming to have simply disappeared after entering the palace. They needed information, but there was simply none to be found. Consort Liang didn’t have access to the Empress Dowager’s palace, and they didn’t have anyone in the Imperial Guard who would risk leaking information this sensitive, now that Yu Bianfu was no longer there.

With his face partially covered and wrinkles on the rough cloth of his narrow-sleeved robes, Liu Boyue looked every bit like a normal worker except for the toned figure that spoke of regular martial arts training than long hours of hard manual labor. Luckily for him, the capital had no shortage of people of various trades and backgrounds, including youths from rich or noble households who had fallen upon hard times. All in all, he didn’t particularly stand out.

Liu Boyue stopped by a food vendor and paid for a flatbread and a bowl of porridge, shuffling into a seat to crowd among the other customers and sharpening his ears to listen for any rumors flying past. Wherever there was food, there was information. Everyone needed to eat, and food tended to loosen the tongue and lower defenses between strangers, making it the ideal place to learn new rumors.

It seemed that Liu Boyue was in luck. He’d barely made himself comfortable on a bench when the information began to flow in.

“Speaking of lucky matches, didn’t the young miss of the Liang clan recently gift the Seventh Prince some calligraphy?” A middle-aged woman chortled to her companion. Liu Boyue hid a smile at that. It had actually been her father who had sent the calligraphy, but it was also true that Xianchun had taken more than just one or two glances in the young lady’s direction during their last meeting.

“Really? Well now, does she hope to snag the spot of Seventh Prince Consort? Her father’s the Minister of Justice after all, surely she could at least qualify for a high-ranking concubine,” her companion replied.

“Is it true the Seventh Prince isn’t interested in marriage though?” A man joined in the conversation, the dust that hadn’t been fully wiped from his face speaking of the long journey to the capital that must have lasted into the early hours of the morning.

“He is already twenty-five, wasn’t the Third Prince already married at this point?” The first woman replied.

“But the Zhao heir is also twenty-five, he’s also unmarried, isn’t he?” A second man joined in from next to Liu Boyue.

“Oh, but haven’t you heard?” A younger woman joined in from across the table. “You wouldn’t believe it from the looks of him!”

“What is it?” Several voices clamored excitedly for what was certain to be juicy gossip.

“Oh really, I shouldn't say it," the young woman said. The people around her eagerly called for her to speak. After feigning reluctance, the young woman leaned forward with a glint in her eye.

"It's really none of my business, so perhaps I shouldn't be waggling my tongue about it," she said, to the protests of the rest of the table.

"You wouldn't think it of him, but it's already spread through the whole capital! They say the Zhao heir only beds male lovers and only older men at that!” The young woman said with vicious glee. There were several gasps of disbelief. Liu Boyue tried to hide his confusion, but the rest of the table immediately launched into a frenzy of conversation.

“What? Surely not!”

“Is that why he doesn’t visit the entertainment districts?”

"Goodness, but he's the Grand Duke's only grandson, what a predicament for the Zhao clan!"

“Don’t just say that and stop talking, go on!”

Urged on by her fellow customers, the young woman leaned in, making a show of lowering her voice without actually doing so by much.

“They say he didn't just rise so quickly for no reason, apparently, the Zhao heir sleeps with his grandfather’s allies, and that’s how he procured all that dirt on them! Those investigations? He’d already planted the evidence while in their bedchambers!”

Despite his own suspicion and intense dislike of the man, Liu Boyue was almost stunned at the maliciousness of the rumor and the audacity of whoever had started it. This was the Emperor’s nephew after all, who had gotten the guts to start saying such a thing?

“No, surely not!”

“Unbelievable!”

“But he’s the Emperor’s nephew after all, is it safe for us to be saying these things?” Liu Boyue asked, filling his tone with false apprehension. He didn’t actually care about stopping the rumor, but he’d learned that the more someone questioned the person talking, the more gossip was sure to follow.

“That’s right, little sister. Best to watch your mouth or your employer will be certain to give you a lashing,” one of the older women chimed in.

“I wouldn’t say this at my employer’s place! I’m not that foolish!” The young woman replied.

“But that’s so hard to believe, he’s a noble! I thought they were the most conservative about this kind of thing, no?” The man with a dusty face asked.

"Ha! How foolish, the nobles are the most lecherous!"

“Trust me, I also couldn’t believe it at first! Such a fine young man in a high position, why would he ever do such a thing? But I heard this from my friend's cousin who heard it from her friend that someone who used to work in the Liu household said that the Zhao heir used to visit Liu Hongyu’s private chambers at least twice a month, on the eighth and sixteenth! Apparently, no one’s ever been allowed to stay inside the room for long while the two were alone, only a young serving girl was ever made to stay one time, and she was so frightened that she quit her job afterward! The poor girl didn’t want to, but she couldn’t go against her master,” The young woman said with some degree of relish at having the details.

Liu Boyue withheld a smile. He almost wanted to applaud whoever had started the rumors. The population of the capital was hardly easy to swindle, constantly being caught up in the aftermath of some political plot or another. But specific dates were convincing, and the hint of something more sordid, the presence of a defenseless young serving girl, all of these rumors were easy to substantiate with more rumors. Zhao Wenyuan hadn't been particularly well-known before and wasn't particularly well-liked now, so it was only natural that everyone would want in on the fun. So as long as there was so much as a single shred of truth to any one of the details, it would all snowball out of control.

And here I was so worried about Zhao Wenyuan’s growing influence, Liu Boyue thought to himself, almost giddy with glee. With this, he won’t be able to lift his head for at least a few months, and that’s more than enough time for us.

Better yet, Liu Boyue hadn’t even had to do anything. He could claim absolute innocence and it would be completely true.

“Good heavens! Why on earth would the Zhao heir do such a thing?”

“What happened to the poor girl?”

“Those high-ranking officials dress all fancy and neat, but they’re no better than animals. All they do is sop up resources and tax money while plotting at each other and making our lives difficult.”

“I shouldn’t even be surprised, it’s not like there haven’t been cases like this before.”

"Who would've thought that the Zhao heir was such a fox spirit?"

“Well, at least the guys he screwed over weren’t exactly great people either.”

The table became increasingly excited as conjectures were made and opinions cast about. Liu Boyue quietly ate his food, providing suitable reactions as needed.

“He must have done it to pave his own road to success, didn’t he manage to get Liu Hongyu killed? Who knows what his involvement in the other cases was?”

“No wonder, the trouble at court hasn’t ceased for even a day over the last few months!”

“Good heavens! Who would’ve known?”

“You know a man and his face but not his heart,” the dusty-faced man shook his head before nudging Liu Boyue. “Isn’t that right, little brother?”

“Indeed, what a scandal, the court will definitely be in an uproar,” Liu Boyue contributed, starting off another wave of comments that only increased in intensity as a few new participants joined in from where they had been eavesdropping while waiting for their food. One could almost see with the physical eye as the rumor spread like a ripple.

Satiated in both stomach and spirit, Liu Boyue left the table to continue wandering the market. He did feel a small amount of sympathy for Zhao Wenyuan, who was certain to come under immense scrutiny once he reappeared, but only barely. Xianchun didn’t seem to see it, but Zhao Wenyuan was dangerous.

He had gotten Yu Bianfu suspended and then sent away from the capital, and had been the primary force behind destroying the Grand Duke’s iron fist over the Three Departments, as well as the deposing of two Ministers, but Xianchun seemed to think of Zhao Wenyuan as though the man was pitiful.

My prince, you’re really much too soft on someone like that. Do you think Zhao Wenyuan is a pitiful little animal that can’t fend for himself, simply because he showed weakness before you once or twice? I know him for what he’s really worth.

At the very least, the same rumors seemed to be filling the entire market, which meant that by noon, it would be completely impossible to contain. Smiling to himself, Liu Boyue headed back to the Seventh Prince’s household. He found Xianchun practicing his swordsmanship in the inner courtyard. The prince greeted him with a smile, and Liu Boyue quickly gave a run-down of what he’d heard.

He wasn’t quite surprised when the prince reacted with outrage, but the Seventh Prince’s genuine upset on Zhao Wenyuan’s behalf left Liu Boyue uneasy.

Xianchun frowned, his voice taking on a note of rage. “Unbelievable, they dare to spread such rumors about a Minister of the court? Who would even believe something so outrageous?”

Boyue shook his head. “The court sees him as a cunning snake who gained his seat through nepotism, and the people don’t think much differently. Why would they care if it’s true?”

“This is ridiculous,” Xianchun snapped.

“Perhaps, but Zhao Wenyuan’s reputation is certain to plummet lower than ever before,” Liu Boyue replied.

“Who the hell could’ve spread these rumors? They ought to be rooted out and imprisoned for slandering an official of the court,” Xianchun snarled.

Liu Boyue’s face twitched, his calm expression rippling for a moment before smoothing over again.

“That’s hard to say, there is any number of people who could’ve been involved,” Boyue replied. “Zhao Wenyuan’s probably the only person who would be able to tell, and he’s nowhere to be found.”

“Damn it, where the hell did he disappear to at such a critical time? Tell our men to should quash the rumors where they can,” Xianchun ordered. “A good chunk of the Ministry of Justice hates Wenyuan’s guts, and now that a huge number of officials are going to be replaced, they’re certain to be all the more antagonistic. Tell Minister Liang to keep an eye on them in particular.”

Liu Boyue gave Xianchun a look of disbelief. “You mean to help him? It will do us no good, my prince!”

“I want no part in this,” Xianchun shot back. “And I don’t want our men to have any part in this either!”

“This is a perfect chance, my prince. If the Empress Dowager has her way, the neutral faction will completely stifle our growth,” Liu Boyue argued. “Right now, the neutral faction’s only source of power is directly given by the throne, and most of its prestige stems from having Zhao Wenyuan’s bloodline. If he were to fall, the neutral faction would fall with him.”

“I know that as well, Boyue. You must find me unbelievable for thinking this way,” Xianchun said, deflating a little in the face of Boyue’s disappointment. Even if the strategist kept his reaction under control, Xianchun had known Boyue long enough to tell what the other man thought about the matter.

“Not at all, my prince,” Liu Boyue replied. He did in fact find Xianchun’s strange sense of affinity with Wenyuan to be utterly incomprehensible, not that he would ever say as much.

“It’s fine even if you do, after all, I was the one who’s always hated him the most. To be honest, it wasn’t so much that I hated him, but that I despised him. He had everything I wanted, and he didn’t even seem to appreciate it. Father doted on him, grandmother loved him, and even the Grand Duke didn’t hesitate to give him power and prestige,” Xianchun said.

His eyes took on a far-off look. “For the longest time, I wanted to see him suffer.”

Liu Boyue looked down. Who wouldn’t? Even though he was the Seventh Prince, Xianchun only received nominal interest from his father and grandmother and had to struggle to take even a single step forward in court, while Zhao Wenyuan had everything from the moment he was born.

It’s only natural that he would think this way after everything that’s happened, but why did he change his mind?

“But even though I thought this way for years, actually seeing it didn’t make me feel satisfied at all. Instead, I couldn’t help but wonder, why did I ever wish for this?” Xianchun said, letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s fine if you don’t understand since I don’t even understand it myself.”

Liu Boyue clenched his fist tighter, his fingernails digging into his palms. If it were back when Zhao Wenyuan was still the Grand Duke’s obedient little puppet, he could’ve overlooked Xianchun's pity as the prince's magnanimity towards a lesser man. But the Zhao heir had gained a desperate edge that made him like a jagged blade, and the destructive storm Zhao Wenyuan had stirred up in the capital over the last few months was the perfect proof of that.

“My prince, that’s because you’re a magnanimous person. But in all truth, Zhao Wenyuan would hardly suffer even if he was forced from the court. He is still the Emperor’s only nephew and the Imperial Princess’ only son, even if he were forced to leave the capital, he would still have the Imperial Princess’ villa in Suzhou and in the Northern Plains, as well as the Emperor and Empress Dowager’s care and protection,” Liu Boyue tried again. “I don’t mean that we should move against him, but even if we try to help him, there’s not much we can do. Why not let things run their natural course?”

Xianchun sighed. “I suppose you have a point.”

The prince lifted his sword, squinting as the morning light reflected off the blade.

“But I do want to see how he’ll deal with this. Will the sword grow sharper or simply break?”

“A blade’s edge is just as sharp against any surface,” Boyue said quietly.

Xianchun’s gaze flickered over Boyue’s face before focusing back on the sword.

“Don’t worry, Boyue. I do understand that Zhao Wenyuan is a double-edged sword. Looking back over the last few months, one of the main reasons I’ve been able to grab hold of the Ministry of Justice and Ministry of Personnel so quickly was because of him. I feel grateful to Wenyuan, but it also worries me a bit. If he had sided with Third Brother instead of remaining neutral, I probably would’ve had to kill him.”

Xianchun slowly sheathed the sword, handing it over to Boyue.

“Let’s just quietly watch how the situation develops this time. We should focus our efforts on the Ministry of Justice instead, with all the new seats opening up, we’ll need to work faster than Third Brother and grandmother if we want to consolidate our control.”

Boyue felt a rush of relief and gave Xianchun a smile.

“As you wish, my prince.”

“That being said, this is also a chance for us. Grandmother and father must be reeling in the net now, we should also quicken our pace. How are the arrangements going for infiltrating the Zhao household?” Xianchun asked.

“We’re ready to move at any time, my prince. Last time I was far too careless, but this time, neither the Grand Duke nor Zhao Wenyuan will be able to notice anything fishy. I’m a little apprehensive since I can’t go there myself, but I’ve arranged for every detail and contingency,” Boyue replied, his smile growing wider.

“Excellent! As expected of you, Boyue! Move forward whenever you’re ready, it’s about time we went for it,” Xianchun said, his voice tinged with excitement.

Boyue bowed his head slightly. “It will be done.”

He took his leave of the prince after talking awhile longer, pleased at the direction the conversation had went. As long as Xianchun properly recognized Wenyuan as a threat, the rest was only a matter of time. Xianchun could be fiercely protective of his allies, but in turn, was suspicious and calculating against his enemies in equal measure.

As long as he stops thinking of Wenyuan as a potential ally, the rest will follow shortly enough.

Boyue had known Xianchun long enough to know how things would go from here.

---

Kayla felt almost reluctant to return to the capital, back to the court and to the Zhao household. But it was her battlefield, and she had no choice but to fight upon it. She had been given a second day off, mostly so that she could meet with the Imperial Investigators about the personnel for the Ministry of Justice later in the day.

The carriage rolled smoothly down the pavement at a steady speed, people quickly making way for it upon seeing the mark of the Imperial family. Hu Qing was amusing himself by folding paper animals with the unused scraps of paper from Kayla’s notes, and she watched with mild interest as the man gave a wide smile upon making what looked like a deformed duck.

“Is that a duck?” Kayla asked. Hu Qing gave her a deeply offended look.

“This is a frog,” he said, sounding rather aggrieved.

The carriage turned a corner and pulled to a stop, and Hu Qing immediately sprang to alert, pushing Kayla’s head away from the window as he reached for a blade. Kayla stiffened, memories of Yue Wuxuan’s sworn warriors’ attack popping unbidden into her mind. After a moment, Hu Qing relaxed and settled back into his seat.

“Nevermind, it was just a messenger from the palace. Sir Yang’s sent him away,” Hu Qing told her. Kayla nodded in relief. There was a polite knock on the carriage door before it opened.

“Excuse me, Minister, Mister Hu. I apologize for the delay,” Sir Yang bowed his head slightly.

“Not at all, is something the matter?” Kayla asked.

Sir Yang hesitated for a moment, a look of uncertainty flashing over his face. “It appears that some unsavory rumors have spread in the capital during our absence, but they have only been brought to this humble servant’s attention just now. Would the Minister like to take a look before deciding on your next destination?” He raised a small scroll into sight, offering it with both hands.

Kayla frowned. She had a bad feeling about this, nothing good ever happened when her carriage stopped en route, whether it was initiated by herself or someone else.

“Let me take a look first,” Kayla said. She unfurled the scroll and swept over its contents. Ice spread through her veins and she forced herself to keep reading.

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Kayla accidentally said it out loud as well, still in English.

“Pardon?” Sir Yang said in alarm.

“Nothing,” Kayla hastily replied, reverting back to the setting-appropriate speech. She breathed in deeply, trying to figure out what to do next.

“May I take a look, Minister?” Hu Qing asked. She wordlessly handed him the scroll, tilting her head back to blankly stare at the roof of the carriage.

The rumors were far worse than anything Kayla would’ve subjected Wenyuan’s reputation to, even for the sake of dealing with the Grand Duke, and the details about the bimonthly visits were damning. Rumors of promiscuity were damning for women, but barely impacted a man's reputation unless he went too overboard. But that only if he was a womanizer, and if he were the one paying. If he went around flirting with men or having his female companions foot the bill, it would be a huge blow to his reputation.

“There are some…nifty details in here,” Hu Qing said carefully. “Those are certain to make the rumors a lot more believable, and if this has already circulated within the market this morning, then it’s already out of control.”

“The details,” Kayla grit out, red-hot rage bleeding into her vision.

“Inside information,” Hu Qing confirmed.

Qu Boyong. Kayla breathed in deeply as a rush of nausea swept over her like a wave. Wenyuan’s rage was swirling around like a tornado, but one that had picked up a half-ton worth of kitchen knives. It almost physically hurt to feel his anger, at Qu Boyong, but also at the Grand Duke and at himself.

Calm down a bit, Wenyuan, Kayla tried to comfort him. I can fix this.

How the HELL could you possibly fix this?! This is way worse than you think! No matter what we say now, I’m done for, my reputation’s done for, you just don’t care! Wenyuan’s voice was high-pitched, almost hysterical. Kayla winced a little. In Ancient China, one's reputation was often seen as more important than one's life, and it was often considered honorable to commit suicide rather than suffer dishonor. Kayla didn't agree with those ideals, but she wasn't the only one affected.

I do care, it’s my reputation as well! I can’t fix this right away, but we have leverage too. I can fix it in due time, Kayla assured him, barely able to contain her own rising panic. She caught Hu Qing’s concerned look in her direction and tried to collect herself.

“It must be Qu Boyong, the Third Prince and the Seventh Prince wouldn’t have access to this information, and the Grand Duke wouldn’t implicate himself like this,” Kayla said.

Hu Qing gave her a sympathetic look. “Qu Boyong sure is cold-hearted, those are some seriously nasty rumors,” he said uneasily.

Kayla shook her head, feeling sick to her stomach. “This is such bullshit,” she grit out through a clenched jaw.

Seriously, it’s always one step forward and two steps back–even if I gained hold of the information from the Imperial Princess' investigations, it’s not something I can carelessly bring into use. But who knows how the situation will escalate from here? I have no idea how things will develop from here on, it’s already diverged way too much from the original timeline. If I end up waiting too long, I could lose my chance, but if I move too early, I could be crushed like an ant. I’m not making a single move until I’ve spoken with Sun Ruhui and Chen Caichun.

She rubbed her face tiredly. “The best thing I can do right now is to just ignore it,” she said.

Hu Qing gave her a long look of incomprehension, and Kayla let out a sigh.

“There’s not much I can do about it right now,” Kayla said wearily. “More importantly, I need to make haste and meet with Chen Caichun and Sun Ruhui. Could you do me a favor and find Qu Boyong for me? I doubt he’ll show up again, but it bothers me to leave things hanging.”

“Sure, but what do you want me to do with him? I might not be able to win if he gets backup,” Hu Qing warned her.

“No, that’s not what I mean. If I do anything to him, it’ll only make me look worse, not to mention that it might set off any shadow employers of his. Just give him his severance pay and a notice in writing. That way, even if he does something from here on, I can legally claim that I have no responsibility,” Kayla said.

Hu Qing raised an eyebrow. “Alright. Leave it to me, just give me the money and the letter, I’ll take care of the rest.”

Kayla pulled out a brush and paper, hesitating for a moment before beginning to write. There was a hollow feeling inside her chest, but it was slowly becoming replaced with fury.

She’d been a minimum wage worker before and knew that loyalty to the paymaster was a flimsy thing. But I wasn’t too shitty of an employer, was I? I paid him plenty, I gave him health insurance and basically free rein to do whatever the fuck he wanted, however the fuck he wanted. The scheduling was a bit of a nightmare and there was lots of overtime, but…okay, fine. So the scheduling was terrible.

Are you kidding me? Most people don’t even dote on their personal serving maids half as much as you have Qu Boyong! The only comparable treatment I’ve ever seen is with Chujiao, and that was because she was my childhood friend! Wenyuan shouted in outrage.

You’re right. The lack of worker’s rights in this time era had always bothered Kayla a bit, but in comparison to the usual standards, Kayla would’ve been a more-or-less model employer even with the nightmarish scheduling issues.

You should curse him with a talisman or something, Wenyuan seethed, unusually vindictive.

Fuck, I kind of want to. But someone as smart as Qu Boyong wouldn’t fall for it.

She hesitated for a moment, thinking back to her knowledge of the young man. Wenyuan had known Qu Boyong for almost three years but had never so much as spoken a single word with him. Kayla had also only known him for a couple of months. Thinking of it, was Qu Boyong even his real name? Hu Qing’s identity reveal had been a shocking reminder of how deep the waters in the capital were, and given Qu Boyong’s looks, he may very well be a hidden side character as well.

I’d rather be overcautious than careless.

Kayla sighed and decided to just pen a written notice by professional standards. She was far from being a perfect employer, but she had tried so far. She might as well do the last part properly rather than accidentally invoke the flames of revenge in someone who may end up being a significant character after all.

She wrote a formal notice of employee termination and stamped it, handing it to Hu Qing. The man had been watching Kayla write with a curious look his face, and cheerfully tucked away the note.

“And hold on a minute, let me figure out the exact amount,” Kayla said, running the numbers through her head before counting out the right number of coins. Hu Qing let out a noise of surprise.

“That’s a lot,” Hu Qing said in shock.

“This was the agreed amount,” Kayla replied. “Severance pay plus accrued paid time off, to the very last coin.”

“Seriously, you’re still going to pay him all that?” Hu Qing demanded. “Why not just hold on to this and give him a written notice?”

“As long as I stick to the employment agreement word for word, he is the only one who is legally responsible for breach of contract, and people will actually be more likely to believe me if he tries to make a fuss,” Kayla explained. “I need to meet with Chen Caichun and Sun Ruhui to decide on my next steps first, so I’ll leave it to you.”

Hu Qing tossed the purse in his hands, raising an eyebrow at its weight. “Alright then." He ducked out from the carriage door and disappeared over the rooftops under Sir Yang's impassive gaze.

"Minister, then your next destination?" Sir Yang asked politely. Kayla sighed.

"I wish to meet my subordinates, discreetly. Can it be arranged?" Kayla asked. If there was someone from the palace who could take care of these things, she would absolutely make use of them.

"Of course, Minister. It will be done," Sir Yang bowed, easily taking on the task. Kayla nodded and settled back into her seat, letting the curtain over the carriage window fall shut again.

---

Cultural Notes

Breakfast in China: This really varies a lot by region, and can resemble a full-out lunch or dinner meal in many places (think Cantonese dim sum). There are a huge variety of sweet or savory options, and it's not entirely uncommon to have an entire bowl of noodles or meat buns for breakfast. In many places, breakfast consists of carb-on-carb options such as flatbread and porridge, and porridge seems to be a staple in most of the country. While most porridges you can find today are made of white rice, it wouldn't have been the case back in ancient times. White rice was scarce in many geographic regions, and refined white rice would have been a luxury in many places, so the porridge would most likely be made of millet, barley, or some other grain.

Clothing in Ancient China: In many period dramas set in China, you tend to see a bunch of people in elaborate, multi-layered robes with ridiculously wide sleeves, but this was not the case for most people. Commoners and merchants were not allowed to wear silk in most dynasties, and there were limits on what kind of embroidery designs were allowed, in both color and motif. Wide sleeves were also usually reserved for the rich and powerful, and military officers tend to wear narrow-sleeved robes for practical reasons, while most commoners wore narrow-sleeved robes that were shorter, thinner, and of rougher cloth.

抬不起头/Unable to lift your head: A Chinese saying referring to a situation where you would face relentless criticism and humiliation after losing face.

衣冠禽兽/Beasts and birds wearing robes and hats: An Ancient Chinese proverb referring to those of high status and influence acting immorally, especially in using their power to abuse young women.

禽兽不如/Worse than birds and beasts: An Ancient Chinese proverb used to insult someone.

狐狸精/Fox spirit: Refers to someone who is seen as a temptress (usually refers to a woman but not exclusively), a derogatory descriptor. Essentially the Chinese version of succubi.

一波未平一波又起/One wave hasn't died down and another wave begins: An Ancient Chinese proverb/colloquialism, there's some debate on which one it counts as since it originates from a Song dynasty poem but is usually used in colloquial speech.

知人知面不知心/Know a man and his face but not his heart: An Ancient Chinese proverb meaning that it's difficult to understand someone's true thoughts and intentions from surface-level interactions, originating from a Yuan dynasty play.

蛇蝎心肠/Heart of a viper or scorpion: An Ancient Chinese proverb from a Yuan dynasty play, used to refer to someone as having a poisonous heart/evil.

心胸宽广/Have a broad heart: An Ancient Chinese proverb meaning that someone is magnanimous, does not hold a grudge, and can consider the bigger picture/think of the wide-reaching consequences of their actions.

苏州/Suzhou: A city in the region of Jiangsu, a cultural and economic hub, and one of the richest places due to traveling merchants, excellent natural conditions, and its silk/embroidery industries.

北平/Northern Plains: A geographic concept in Ancient China that was cemented during the Tang Dynasty, referring to approximately where modern-day Beijing is currently located.

名节/Honor/Reputation: Very heavily emphasized in Ancient China, which was a kin-based society where social networks and one's reputation in them were extremely important. This was often coupled with a heavy emphasis on morality, so one's reputation was extremely valuable and usually fiercely defended. There are no shortage of people who have killed themselves to save their reputations, whether because of slander or a scandal, and this has been taken to the next level in several instances when one's honor and reputation become intertwined with one's morality, the honor and prestige of one's clan, or even one's country. It is a concept heavily emphasized in literature, and also as a matter of historical succession. I could write a whole essay on this, but honor and reputation had some very intricate workings in holding together the social fabric, but also in causing a lot of unnecessary pain in other circumstances.

其心当株/[Their] heart deserves to be killed: An Ancient Chinese proverb referring to someone acting with evil or extremely malicious intentions to the point of deserving death.