Although the rain didn’t greatly affect the ink testing ceremony itself, the inconvenient travel conditions meant fewer people would attend the Li family’s ceremony, significantly reducing its impact.
At this moment, Li Dalang entered from outside, drenched in rain. He handed his bamboo hat and rain cape to Madam Du, then told everyone: “I just asked the court astrologer—it will keep raining tomorrow and the day after.”
The Li family members looked disappointed upon hearing this.
“Then should we postpone it for a few days?” Manager Shao suggested.
“We can’t. The tribute ink selection is coming up soon. There’s still much to prepare, and we can’t afford delays,” Li Jingdong said.
Zhen Niang watched the drizzling rain outside. Rain wasn’t necessarily all bad, she thought, blinking as she suggested: “Why don’t we test the ink in the rain?”
The rain in Jiangnan rarely came down hard enough to prevent travel. It was mostly drizzle like today, and people could easily get around with oil-paper umbrellas.
However, ink testing ceremonies had become rather formulaic—renting a teahouse, inviting some celebrities, testing ink, and then auctioning some calligraphy and paintings. People had grown tired of this format.
Moreover, besides securing Ding Yunpeng, the Li family hadn’t attracted any other notable figures. Unlike the Tian family with the Xu family’s backing, naturally, in such weather, many people were wavering about whether to attend.
In essence, the ink testing ceremony needed innovation—the old format no longer sparked interest.
Zhen Niang knew there was an opportunity in this situation. The competition between the Tian and Li families for tribute ink rights was already a hot topic in Huizhou. What the Li family needed now was to use a new testing format to heighten interest and attention. What did rain matter then?
Of course, testing ink in the rain demanded extremely high-quality from ink. But the Li family’s Six Harmonies Three Talents ink could meet this requirement.
Everyone was confident about this batch of ink’s quality. The question was: how to conduct the rain testing?
Seventh Grandmother glanced at Zhen Niang, signaling her to continue.
So Zhen Niang shared her thoughts, which essentially borrowed from future promotional techniques.
“Hmm, I think it could work,” Seventh Grandmother exchanged looks with Old Master Li. Manager Shao, Li Jingdong, and others nodded repeatedly.
That afternoon, news spread through the streets that the Li family would test ink in the rain, preceded by an opera performance right in front of the Li family ink shop.
Idlers specifically went to check—the Li family was indeed setting up stages in the rain. The news spread like wildfire.
The Li-Tian tribute ink competition was already a major topic. Now the Li family had created another talking point, and opera was always popular entertainment. Thus, in just one short afternoon, interest in the Li family’s ink-testing ceremony soared.
The next day was the Li family’s testing day, and as the court astrologer had predicted, the rain continued.
Two stages had been erected in front of the Li ink shop—one for the opera and one for viewing. Both were covered with waterproof oilcloth. Though it wasn’t yet testing time, all the guests had arrived.
Many uninvited guests had also come of their own accord.
As courtesy demanded reciprocation, since the Tian family had invited the Li family to their ceremony, the Li family naturally invited the Tian family to theirs.
“Let’s see what tricks the Li family plays this time,” Second Master Tian sneered, legs crossed. Beside him, Tian Ronghua wore a veiled hat that hid her expression.
Before the ink testing time, everyone sat on the viewing stage watching the opera. The Li family had spent heavily to secure two famous actors from the Jiahe Opera Troupe.
The play was a typical scholar-meets-beauty story, hastily written by Zhen Niang. The plot was conventional, the characters few, and the story laughably simple, with enough sentimentality to make one’s teeth ache. In modern terms, it would be considered cringe-worthy, but in this era, it was quite popular.
The basic plot involved a courtesan meeting a poor scholar. They fell in love at first sight, but the scholar couldn’t afford to redeem her. They met in secret, and the courtesan spent all her savings helping the scholar study. When he passed the provincial examinations, she planned to buy her freedom to be with him.
However, the madam refused to release her, mocking that the scholar was now an honored examination graduate while the courtesan had lost her former fame. She advised the courtesan against false hopes. The courtesan, refusing to believe this, wrote a letter asking the scholar to meet at Falling Wild Geese Bridge that night if he still held their old feelings.
The letter was sent, but no one came to meet her at the bridge. Believing the scholar had betrayed their love, she jumped into the river in despair.
The next morning, the scholar arrived with money to redeem her, only to find their love tragically ended. He then renounced the world and became a monk.
Why hadn’t he come to the bridge if he hadn’t changed his heart?
When the letter was finally opened, it was completely smeared with ink. The previous night’s rain had soaked the letter, turning it into an illegible mess. The scholar had never known about the bridge meeting.
Thus became a tale of tragic love.
Though the play was mediocre, the two famous actors brought the courtesan and scholar vividly to life, drawing many tears from the audience.
At this moment came the highlight of the Li family’s ink-testing ceremony.
A table was placed in the rain, covered with silk. Ding Yunpeng stood in the rain wearing white, while a black-clad apprentice ground the ink. With the falling drizzle, the scene itself was like a painting.
After brief contemplation, Ding Yunpeng began painting with natural grace. At just twenty years old, he already had quite a reputation, and his good looks immediately captivated the young women and wives in the audience.
Some matrons even looked at him as a potential son-in-law. After all, he was still unmarried, had a growing reputation, and seemed to make good money from his paintings. With daughters around sixteen at home, they were eager to catch such a prize.
Setting aside the matrons’ calculations…
In flowing brush strokes, Ding Yunpeng created two paintings: one of the courtesan’s melancholy wait at Falling Wild Geese Bridge, and another of the scholar becoming a monk, with morning and evening temple bells. Both were completed in single sweeps.
Servants then led Ding Yunpeng away to clean up and change, as March rain still carried quite a chill.
Two black-clad apprentices then displayed the paintings to the audience.
“Ah, this Li ink is extraordinary! The rain didn’t blur the brushwork at all. If only the scholar in the play had used this ink, we wouldn’t have had such a tragic ending,” exclaimed one lady, clearly still immersed in the story, stamping her feet in frustration.
Those who understood ink were even more amazed. Though ancient texts spoke of the best ink being impervious to rain, truthfully, almost no ink had achieved this until now. Yet the Li ink had done it.
Next came the auction of the two paintings. Surprisingly, the most aggressive bidders were all women, and the prices soared to new heights. The two paintings eventually sold for the astronomical sum of eight hundred taels.
Evidently, women’s shopping had always been emotional and passionate—probably more than half the price was driven by a connection to the story’s characters.
“Girl, this ink-testing ceremony was brilliantly done,” Third Uncle Cheng said to Zhen Niang. Beside him, Luo Wenqian, holding an oil-paper umbrella, gave her a thumbs up.
Zhen Niang smiled shyly. Then she stared at Luo Wenqian in surprise—he always seemed to appear mysteriously, though pleasure showed in her expression: “When did you return?”
“Just got off the boat. I received word that the old master had fallen ill. Your father couldn’t sit still, and I’d arranged everything on my end with Manager Yan in charge, so I came back together,” Luo Wenqian said with a smile, then added lazily: “The Tian family’s faces have turned green.”
While others watched the play on stage, he’d been watching the drama below.
Zhen Niang turned to look at Second Master Tian and Tian Ronghua. Second Master Tian’s face was sour, as if everyone owed him money. Tian Ronghua’s face remained hidden under her veiled hat. However, perhaps sensing their gaze, she lifted her veil and, upon seeing Luo Wenqian, actually nodded to him.
As for Li Zhen Niang beside him, Tian Ronghua pretended not to see her.
Zhen Niang felt inexplicably displeased and gave Luo Wenqian a sidelong glance: “With her face hidden under that veil, how could you see it turn green?”
Zhen Niang’s rare show of jealousy momentarily dazzled Luo Wenqian’s eyes. He grinned: “No need to see it—I can imagine it.”
Zhen Niang just smiled without speaking. When Ding Yunpeng came over, she quickly had Xiao Ya bring ginger soup. She then fetched some ready-made cold medicine from the pharmacy, instructing Ding Yunpeng to take it home and have servants brew two doses.
When planning the rain testing, Zhen Niang had considered finding a replacement, worried that getting soaked might lead to a cold or fever—which could become a serious illness in these ancient times. However, when Ding Yunpeng learned about testing ink in the rain, his interest only grew. Zhen Niang had forgotten that while the Ming Dynasty valued propriety, it was also an era of eccentricity. Scholars and intellectuals often sought to express their individuality, and painting in the rain was exactly the kind of dramatic gesture they enjoyed.
How could Ding Yunpeng agree to be replaced?
As Ding Yunpeng bowed in thanks and reached for the cold medicine, Luo Wenqian watched the two of them, his teeth inexplicably itching with annoyance.
He’d gotten quite wet on his journey too, yet no one had prepared any cold medicine for him.
He was being completely unreasonable—how could anyone have known when he would arrive?
“Come on, Brother Ding, let’s go drink! What’s a little rain to real men? Don’t act like an old man—a few cups of wine will drive out any chill,” Luo Wenqian suddenly threw his arm around Ding Yunpeng’s shoulders and dragged him away.
His large hand slapped vigorously. Though once a refined young master, whether making ink or panning for gold, he’d done his share of physical labor. Ding Yunpeng grimaced and shrugged his shoulders under the heavy slaps.
Zhen Niang glared—Luo Wenqian was causing trouble. But her eyes were full of laughter.
By then, the two men had already walked away.