Nie Yunzhu’s acquaintance with old Qin by the riverside hadn’t really come about by chance. Though Ning Yi had already suggested she consider taking old Qin as her adoptive father, she hadn’t been opposed to the arrangement. But by temperament, Nie Yunzhu was herself a woman of independent mind, unafraid to act on her own judgment — during Ning Yi’s days away, she’d gone to see old Qin partly because she wanted to take the initiative in getting to know the old man who might become her adoptive father.
Having met him, over these past two days by the Qinhuai river she’d heard the old man talk about another side of Ning Yi — his talent, his unconventional independence — and it was as though she were seeing the man anew from a different angle. Seeing Ning Yi again that morning, the feeling was a good one, at once familiar and freshly novel.
Even with that girl Jin’er showing up to stir up trouble…
Since Nie Yunzhu had already come to know Qin Siyuan on her own, there was no longer much need for Ning Yi to steer things toward the adoption plan — it would happen naturally in its own time, no need to rush. After last night’s heavy downpour, the weather today had cleared. When he arrived at the riverside that afternoon, old Qin was playing chess with Nie Yunzhu. She glanced at him, her eyes bright and lively, but said nothing to him directly. Ning Yi greeted old Qin and sat down nearby to watch.
Nie Yunzhu was accomplished in all the arts — music, chess, calligraphy, and painting — though she excelled particularly at music and dance; her calligraphy and chess, while quite good, naturally couldn’t match old Qin’s level. Ning Yi could tell at a glance that the old man was holding back somewhat, offering gentle guidance as they played. As they played, old Qin brought up the matter of the disaster relief and epidemic prevention manual with Ning Yi.
Old Qin had already sent the booklet on to his eldest son, Qin Shaohe, far off in Jiangzhou, and Kang Xian, it was said, had already used his connections to pass it up the chain and have it distributed. Of course, seeing real results would still take some time.
As old Qin discussed all this with Ning Yi, Nie Yunzhu sat quietly beside them, watching him.
For Nie Yunzhu, this side of Ning Yi was something she was seeing for the first time. In all the time she’d known him, what she’d witnessed had always been rather narrow in scope. She knew he had talent, but that, too, had mostly come from what others said of him; in their daily meetings they talked of small, trivial things, she listened to the odd songs he liked, watched him paint his strange lacquer pieces — it had all felt genuine, but ordinary. There had been that composed confidence of his when discussing business, true, but business was, after all, a minor pursuit for a merchant.
But now the impression she got was different — here he was discussing matters of state, and not with the empty bluster of some ignorant scholar either, the kind of bluster she’d heard plenty of back at the Jinfeng Tower. These past two days, hearing old Qin speak of him, she’d gathered that Liheng was no ignorant scholar at all — that whatever he set out to do, he pursued with practicality and a sure hand, and that this was the true mark of someone capable of real accomplishment. As the wind stirred along the Qinhuai riverside, the woman sat listening to the two men talk, recalling the old man’s assessment of Ning Yi, and felt, faintly, a certain quiet pride of her own in it.
The days that followed carried on much as usual, though of course certain changes were unfolding as well — changes that, for Ning Yi, didn’t amount to much.
The number of refugees inside and outside the city kept growing as time passed. Along the streets and beneath the walls near Yushan Academy, beggars could often be seen wandering and gathering — a pitiful sight, though there was no way to truly attend to them all; even Xiao Chan had grown used to seeing it by now. Jiangning had never lacked for beggars, only now there were rather more of them. Plenty of refugees had also come from various places to seek out relatives in the city, and the Su family too had some relatives affected by the disaster who’d come to seek shelter with them.
The main reason the city felt somewhat crowded and disordered, then, was simply the sudden surge in population. The authorities and the military had tightened their controls accordingly, though conditions inside the city remained tolerable. Those with travel permits and proof of identity could enter; those without such documents, and without relatives to take them in, could only gather outside the city walls to wait for relief.
Order had held up for the past few days, and the city gates hadn’t yet been sealed shut, but once, passing by the gates, Ning Yi noticed that the refugees camped outside had grown noticeably more numerous than on the day he’d returned to the city. Simple shelters had been thrown up, the scene chaotic and anxious, filled with all manner of clamor and weeping; the Wulie Army had stationed a large number of men at the gates, ready to act and seal them off at a moment’s notice.
Because of the refugee situation, Ning Yi decided, after some thought, to shelve for the time being his plans for setting up the equipment and workshop for high-proof liquor distillation — the design drawings were already finished, so there’d be time enough to revisit it once things settled down. These days, jogging over to the little building each morning, he’d often find Yuan Jin’er and Nie Yunzhu sitting there drinking tea; whenever he arrived, Jin’er would grab her teacup and dash off.
Jin’er’s departure from the Jinfeng Tower had, for a time, become the talk of Jiangning — even Ning Yi had heard about it from Li Pin, who mentioned that this particular leading courtesan’s current whereabouts were unknown. Seeing her there each morning drinking her tea, and recalling what Li Pin had said, Ning Yi found himself feeling rather conflicted about it — apparently a few smitten admirers were still out searching for her.
The woman had, in fact, come to learn the trade from her Sister Yunzhu, intending to become a shopkeeper herself. She’d paid a considerable sum to buy out her own contract upon leaving the Jinfeng Tower, but still had a fair amount of savings left, and now planned to put it all into Zhuji — no small sum by any means. By her own account, from now on, “I belong to Sister Yunzhu.” These past few days she’d been resting, planning to start work as a junior manager at Zhuji in a couple of days.
The day he’d just gotten back, Li Pin had mentioned something to him.
“Oh, right — a few days back, a brother and sister came by the academy looking for you.”
“A brother and sister?”
“Mm, looked like children of some wealthy household — young, but carrying themselves with real presence. The elder sister, maybe twelve or thirteen, was quite the handful — seemed to have come specifically to challenge you. You weren’t around, so she gave me a thorough grilling instead, ha ha. The younger brother was rather more easygoing.”
Li Pin recounted this with some amusement, gesturing to indicate the height of the two children, then described the exchange from that day. Being a rather magnanimous sort, Li Pin hadn’t taken a child’s provocation to heart, and given his own learning, there’d been no chance of him actually losing the exchange anyway — recounting it now, he noted the siblings were quite knowledgeable, clearly rather impressed by them himself.
Watching Li Pin gesture out their height, Ning Yi suddenly laughed, recalling Zhou Pei and Zhou Junwu. They’d only met once, back at the Duanwu festival, and here they’d gone and made a special trip just to challenge him — being resented by a young lady really wasn’t a pleasant feeling…
He put the matter out of his mind soon enough.
Ning Yi’s fixed daily routine still revolved around his teaching. Having finished the Analects, he’d now moved on to Mencius. If Confucius spoke of “benevolence” and Mencius of “righteousness,” then where Confucian thought centered mostly on personal conduct, much of Mencius’s thinking touched directly on matters of state and the collective. In his lessons, Ning Yi would often weave in stories concerning the nation, and on this particular day, he happened to bring up the Battle of Huburgang from a few years earlier.
Ning Yi had picked up some information about the movements of the Jin state, and old Qin and old Kang often discussed it as well. This battle had taken place four years prior — Emperor Tianzuo had led a personal campaign with an army of seven hundred thousand, while Wanyan Aguda met them with a mere twenty thousand troops, having nearly resigned himself to death in battle. And yet, in the end, that force of twenty thousand had won a resounding victory — not a costly, pyrrhic one, but one that came close to annihilating the entire seven-hundred-thousand-strong imperial army. Whatever the complicated reasons behind it, this battle stood as something of a miracle in the history of warfare spanning thousands of years.
Ning Yi used this extreme example simply to illustrate the fierceness of the Jurchen people and the relationship between a nation and its people — hardly something he could elaborate on too deeply with a group of children.
It was only after class, talking further with Li Pin, that he could speak more freely about his views on the Jurchens. The two of them walked together toward the office nearby, and once they’d set down their books, Li Pin sighed. “There’s an old saying — the Jurchens number less than ten thousand, but once they reach ten thousand, none can stand against them. These past years have shown it to be quite true. Still, a victory like this can’t be repeated easily; the Liao remain vastly more powerful in the end, and the Jurchens too few. How this war ultimately plays out is still very much uncertain.”
Ning Yi smiled. “Isn’t that all the better, though? Everyone in the streets keeps saying they’ll both come out the worse for it, evenly matched — that’s exactly the kind of situation our Wu dynasty ought to profit from.”
There was a note of teasing in his words. Li Pin gave him a look, then laughed. “Liheng’s deflecting again… What people say in the streets is just wishful, idealistic talk. Whoever we end up neighboring, given how weak our dynasty has become, it’s hardly going to be good news for us either way. If a three-way balance of power could somehow form instead, we might buy ourselves a bit of breathing room — though that, too, is probably too idealistic. The situation as it stands isn’t one that lends itself to easy balance. Weak as we are, we can’t simply sit and wait to be overrun — we must act. The Sixteen Prefectures of Yan and Yun have been ceded for over two hundred years now; if we could truly seize this moment to take them back, relying on the Great Wall’s natural defenses, our dynasty might genuinely gain a period of respite, time enough to plan further…”
“Mm.” Ning Yi nodded, as though he understood exactly what Li Pin meant, waiting for him to continue. But Li Pin, seeing his reaction, paused slightly, then laughed ruefully. “Liheng still doesn’t seem to take this seriously…” Having said this, he suddenly grew solemn, cupped his hands, and gave a slight bow. “Since we’ve come this far, there’s no need to hold back any longer — I’ve long wanted to hear Liheng’s own views on the current state of affairs. Given how weak our situation has become, where does Liheng truly see hope for this realm?”
“Tch…” Ning Yi looked at him, frowning slightly, then laughed. “How long have you been sitting on that question… Ha, and what good would my opinion even do…”
“I’ve genuinely held onto it for some time now,” Li Pin laughed. “Hearing Liheng’s lessons before, I found them quite thought-provoking, and wanted to discuss the matter with you at the time — though I worried it might amount to no more than the empty bluster one hears in teahouses and taverns. But turning Ning Yi’s various remarks over in my mind again and again since, I’ve come to feel they form a genuinely distinct school of thought — some of what’s practical in them is even rather startling. Liheng holds unique views on the history of past dynasties, and knows the present situation well besides. This time, I’d genuinely like to hear Liheng’s thoughts on the state of affairs, if only to spur each other on… Let’s just say you and I are merely trading empty bluster over tea and wine, how about that?”
A little earlier, along a corridor at the side of the academy, two small figures had been approaching one after the other — a brother and sister. The elder, Zhou Pei, and the younger, Zhou Junwu, each carried a small pouch, nibbling on some soft, chewy pastries as they walked. Their attendants and guards had been left behind at the academy gate. As they neared the classroom, Zhou Pei hung her pouch at her waist, wiped her mouth, and turned to glance at her brother, who was still eating as he walked — prompting her to shoot him several sharp glares in a row…
Only upon hearing voices from up ahead did Zhou Junwu finally look up, blinking in confusion, not understanding why his sister was glaring at him. She turned and walked on ahead with an expression of utter despair at his hopelessness, and he hurried to catch up. “What, what’s wrong…”
They’d originally only gone out for a snack, but on hearing that the “barbarian” was back, his sister had dragged him along to come challenge him. His stomach still a little empty, he popped the rest of his pastry into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully and still rather puzzled…