The sound of carts and horses drifted from a distance. In the alley behind the warehouse, tree shadows dappled the ground, and two figures sat there, each holding a bowl of liangfen, eating slowly.

“The shops in Jiangning need someone walking through and managing them every day. Father used to bring me along, said if you really want to manage this, you have to put in the effort to understand everything that needs understanding. None of the young masters in the family now can really run a shop properly — I can manage all of this, I could take over any shopkeeper’s work in a pinch…”

Across the low wall, through the tree shadows and the drainage ditch, the marketplace beyond could be dimly seen, its noise carrying over. Ning Yi had wandered over here after class let out at noon, and the two of them were now eating liangfen in the back, resting and chatting a little. Su Tan’er didn’t usually eat snacks, but right now she seemed just like she did in the evenings up on the second-floor corridor of that little building — holding a small bowl while chattering on about this and that, from the origins of the “immortal-detaining skirt” to the mixing ratios of various dyes.

“The Xijing Zaji records that the origin of the immortal-detaining skirt traces back to Zhao Feiyan. Before the Western Han, skirts actually had no such pleats at all, but supposedly once, while Zhao Feiyan was dancing, a palace maid tugged at her hem, creating creases, and it looked even better when she danced — afterward, women in the palace all began imitating it. But the pleating back then wasn’t like it is now. In the Tang dynasty there was a beautiful pattern that took seven more steps to make than today’s skirts — though it was rather troublesome to wear, with certain fussy requirements…”

“Today’s outfit — the white and the blue aren’t simple colors either. This particular white is very troublesome to dye, twenty-three steps in all. First, the dye chosen is quite special — no sulfur, no lime used… Blue, on the other hand, is easier to dye, though this shade here sits between kingfisher blue and sapphire blue — it uses a very expensive dark-blue star stone, the kind we have set into the screen on the second floor at home. Used as eyebrow powder, it’s terribly costly. There’s a shop over in Annan Ward that sells a tiny box for fifteen strings of cash…”

When Su Tan’er was at home, she mostly gossiped about family matters, complained about her foolish cousins, or grumbled about business partners, snacking away with a bit of a mischievous streak. But right now she was only talking about things related to dyeing, weaving, and garment-making — she could hold forth at length about anything on Ning Yi’s body if he simply pointed at it. She wasn’t reciting from memory; she genuinely understood these things deeply, and who knew how much effort she’d poured into this over the years. Ning Yi, holding his half-bowl of liangfen, found it rather delightful listening to this nineteen-year-old woman who bore the name of his wife talk about such things.

Ahead, the unloading at the warehouse continued without pause. Around the hour of Xin, noise seemed to rise from the street near the warehouse. Xing’er came running to say there was a fight up ahead — some gang brawl. Su Tan’er merely turned to glance at Ning Yi and said with a smile, “There are fights here often, sometimes people die. Let’s not go look…”

There was something almost pleading in her tone. Ning Yi nodded. “Mm, wouldn’t want to get caught in the crossfire.” Xing’er, sensing the mood, smiled and ran off again. Su Tan’er then turned and called out toward the noise, “Don’t get hurt!”

On one side, the muffled sounds of chaotic fighting; on the other, the ongoing rattle of carts and horses. The two of them sat in the back alley chatting, listening to the autumn cicadas, watching the dappled light falling through the gaps in the leaves — all those sounds seemed to grow distant somehow. The liangfen wasn’t very good; Su Tan’er took one sip and then just held the bowl without touching it again. A leaf fell into it, and she simply looked at it for a long while before finally fishing it out with her spoon, along with a spoonful of syrup, and flicking it onto the ground.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had such a leisurely day. If the gates close, I suppose things will only get busier.”

“Wouldn’t closing the gates mean things get more relaxed?” Ning Yi took another spoonful from the half-bowl he’d been holding for a while now.

“They closed the gates for a whole month a few years back too. I wasn’t very old then, but I still remember feeling stifled.” Su Tan’er looked at him. “Could my husband have forgotten even that?”

“I don’t remember.”

“What kind of person was my husband, back then, I wonder? I can’t quite picture it…”

“Probably a bookworm. Maybe the really dull kind. Or maybe not so different from now… eh, what’s that look for?”

“I went to see you once, before, with Xiao Chan and Juan’er. Asking around about what kind of person you were.” Su Tan’er thought for a moment, then smiled. “Everyone really did say back then that you were a bookworm. I went to sneak a look at you once — saw you from a distance, couldn’t get close enough to speak, so I never really knew what you were like back then… You were walking along with your head down, not knowing that Xiao Chan and I had lifted the curtain of our carriage nearby to watch you.”

A scream carried from far off, along with shouts of “Murder!” and the like — almost like some chaotic background noise. Ning Yi thought about it, smiled, and said nothing. Su Tan’er tilted her head. “Are you angry?”

“No. I just find it rather amusing.”

Su Tan’er nodded, smiling with understanding. “I find it amusing too.” There was a faint note of wistfulness in her words, her mood a little complicated — though of course, that complexity was probably different from whatever was in Ning Yi’s own heart.

Not long after, constables from the magistrate’s office arrived and dispersed the brawl up ahead, presumably arresting a few people. As evening approached, Ning Yi and Su Tan’er made their way through the warehouse to the front gate. The street had returned to its usual bustle — pedestrians coming and going, porters carrying goods back and forth, shopkeepers calling out instructions just as before. As they passed the warehouse, a small incident occurred.

There was a wooden rack that hadn’t looked very stable to begin with, and as the two of them passed, it wobbled several times — an assistant across the way was loading a large item and apparently lost control of it for a moment, and the rack began teetering. Ning Yi saw it and instinctively reached out to steady it, but Su Tan’er, walking slightly ahead and watching the loading on the other side, seemed to notice at almost the same instant and swung her arm back, stepping backward as if trying to push Ning Yi out of the way.

It was probably an instinctive movement — she didn’t even have time to say anything before she ended up shoving Ning Yi to a halt, and in the end failed to fully catch a large sack ahead of them. White spools of cotton thread spilled out of the sack — light, harmless things — but one of them struck Su Tan’er on the head. She squeezed her eyes shut and drew her neck in with a small “Ah—” and then said, “Husband…” Chest to back, the two of them ended up pressed together for a moment. It was a few seconds before Ning Yi stepped back.

Even if the whole sack of cotton spools had fallen and hit someone, it likely wouldn’t have amounted to much — but the fact that her instinctive block had backfired struck Ning Yi as rather funny, a kind of hidden bossiness. After a moment, he said with a smile, “Do you realize if that had been something else falling, it could’ve been serious?” Su Tan’er merely tilted her head and said mildly, “I only went over because I saw it was cotton spools.”

“Oh.” Ning Yi nodded, then laughed again. “Backfired heroics…”

“I know, I know…” Su Tan’er made a slightly sheepish face.

It was just a small thing. After tidying her slightly mussed hair, it seemed to pass without further comment.

As the sun set, after exchanging a few words with Shopkeeper Liao, Su Tan’er and Ning Yi found Juan’er and Xing’er, and together they carried several boxes of various sizes to load onto the carriage for the ride home. The people still busy at the docks would likely have to keep working until around midnight before they could rest.

It was nearly the middle of the seventh month. All along the road back to the Su residence, stalls selling paper, bamboo goods, and spirit money could be seen. With disaster refugees pouring in now, there were more and more people on the road with looks of misery on their faces, beggars and displaced people lining the roadside. Back at the Su residence, the vast household had gained quite a few unfamiliar faces. Just as they entered the gate, more than a dozen people waiting in the gatehouse came up to speak with Su Tan’er, who smiled and nodded, greeting each of them in turn, with Ning Yi naturally accompanying her at her side. Before long, Xiao Chan — who had apparently also had a busy day — came trotting out from the courtyard gate over toward the setting sun, waving and smiling, then slipped quietly into the crowd and moved, silent and unnoticed, to stand behind Su Tan’er.

On the way back to their own courtyard, Xiao Chan chattered away, reporting on various household matters — which relative had run into what difficulty. Some of these concerned people close to the Eldest Branch, to be handled either by Su Boyong or by Su Tan’er herself. Apparently a distant cousin who’d been wandering around Jiangning these past few days had gotten into trouble at a gambling den today and been detained. His mother didn’t feel comfortable asking Su Boyong for help, but had heard Su Tan’er was always easy to approach, and so had come to ask her instead. Su Tan’er, frowning, asked how much money was involved, then sent Xiao Chan to fetch Steward Sun, who was fairly skilled at handling this sort of thing.

Matters like this came up often, especially these past few days — more than just one or two. Before dinner, the steward known as Sun the Second arrived, got the details from Su Tan’er, took a banknote, and left. Before dinner, Su Tan’er also went to see her father. After dinner, once night had fallen, all sorts of visitors came calling — relatives near and far. Only once they had all left could Su Tan’er finally retreat to her own room to deal with the documents and account books that needed attending to.

Often, Ning Yi actually found this kind of busyness interesting. For someone truly purposeful and driven — like Su Tan’er — this level of activity wouldn’t normally be much of a burden; watching her handle everything with practiced ease, Ning Yi would occasionally think back on his old self. But these past few days, it had finally started to become too much even for her.

Preparing for the mid-seventh-month ancestral rites, arranging and managing matters concerning the Eldest Branch’s relatives, the looming closure of the city gates, and — most important of all, probably — the progress on the imperial merchant matter. That midnight, the light in Su Tan’er’s room still hadn’t gone out. Ning Yi read for a while, then went out to walk in the courtyard. The autumn night was cool; he’d been practicing the breathing technique Lu Hongti had taught him lately — no results yet in terms of destructive power, but his spirits were good. He walked over and stopped under the eaves outside Su Tan’er’s room, letting out a soft sigh.

The window of Su Tan’er’s bedroom was open, her desk set before it, the oil lamp’s light trembling faintly on the desktop. In its warm yellow glow, Su Tan’er lay slumped over a few sheets of correspondence, already asleep, her hair slightly mussed.

Ning Yi stood before the window for a while, then blew out the oil lamp on the desk. The window went dark, and clear moonlight spilled over the courtyard. Just as he turned to leave, there came a soft “Mm” from behind him, as if she’d sensed the change in the light. He turned back to see Su Tan’er struggling to sit up, groggily rubbing her eyes with one hand, then sniffling and looking out toward the window.

Their eyes met plainly in the moonlight; Su Tan’er’s eyes seemed to hold a faint light in the darkness, though not fully open, carrying a touch of drowsy languor: “Mm… husband…”

In the moonlight, it was a murmur soft as a little girl’s…