Since the city gates had closed, Old Master Qin had mostly been staying home lately, rarely going out; occasionally old friends like Kang Xian would come by for a visit, though it certainly couldn’t happen as often as their usual chess games. Today Ning Yi and Nie Yunzhu came by in the afternoon. After a brief exchange in the parlor, Ning Yi and Old Master Qin walked and talked in the courtyard outside the study, while Nie Yunzhu was called away by Yun Niang and Madam Qin, who apparently already knew about Yunzhu’s situation and greeted her warmly, asking after her with genuine care.

The earlier idea of having Nie Yunzhu recognize Old Master Qin as her adoptive father had only been raised by Ning Yi so far — nothing had been formally settled between Old Master Qin and Nie Yunzhu directly, so it made sense for Ning Yi to bring it up now.

Given the complications that had arisen from this matter, Ning Yi naturally couldn’t claim it had nothing to do with him — though of course, he didn’t think Nie Yunzhu bore any responsibility either. Right or wrong was hard to say in such things, but since it had happened, resolving it properly without causing trouble for others was the right approach. Fortunately, Old Master Qin was a perceptive man; once Ning Yi briefly recounted what had happened at Yancui Tower, he understood the implication, and why Ning Yi was bringing it up.

Still, after a long moment of thought, he didn’t immediately show his hand on the matter.

“This year’s flooding — the scale of disaster upstream hasn’t been seen in decades. Though Jiangning has closed its gates, things here actually seem calmer than in past years. Do you know why, Liheng?” Old Master Qin paused. “In Jiangzhou, despite the severity of the disaster, they’ve already taken in over two hundred thousand homeless refugees, and the number keeps rising, yet… I hear order has been well maintained, with no outbreak of epidemic. And in Fenzhou and Jinzhou in Hedong Circuit, which suffered from the Yellow River’s dike breach, as well as Langzhou and Guizhou here, proper resettlement efforts are underway too. In past years, an epidemic would likely have already broken out by now, impossible to contain. This year, though there has been some disease, it’s been contained by a few well-ordered prefectures and counties and hasn’t spread further…”

“Oh.” Hearing this from Old Master Qin, Ning Yi nodded. Since the gates had closed, news from outside had been slow to reach in, and Ning Yi hadn’t paid it much attention — only now, hearing this, did he get some sense of what had been happening beyond Jiangning.

“Jiangzhou, Fenzhou, Jinzhou, Langzhou, Guizhou — most of them have adopted or drawn on methods that trace back to you, Liheng. Simple as they seem, the results have been remarkable. I’ve been mulling over the reasoning behind them recently. Whatever the case, hundreds of thousands of people have benefited because of you. And yet when you come to visit today, all you want to discuss is some minor matter of reputation…”

Old Master Qin laughed, but Ning Yi shook his head with a smile. “One thing’s separate from another. To begin with, taking advantage a little — Old Master Qin, you’re not one to fuss over small matters, so agreeing was a favor, and declining would have been reasonable too. But once a favor’s been granted, pushing further would be improper. You might not mind it, Old Master Qin, but I can’t simply take it for granted — that’s the right way to conduct oneself. This matter is hard to call right or wrong, but reality is reality, and adding further trouble on top of various complications wouldn’t be good. What matters most to me isn’t really my own conscience — it’s that Yunzhu feels she owes you an apology…”

Old Master Qin nodded, then said nothing further for a long while. The two men set up a chessboard, and only after quite some time did the old man finally speak. “The other day, I heard from Master Ming about that conversation of yours with Li Pin. Have you seen Mingyun recently, Liheng?”

Ning Yi shook his head. “I’ve had quite a lot going on lately. Though he sent over a pair of odd little siblings asking to become my students. Ha, probably just as well I haven’t seen him — from what Brother Lu tells me, he might well give me an earful when we meet…”

“Ha, that would be the Zhou Yong siblings — promising material, though given their background, whatever they truly hope to achieve someday won’t come easily.” Old Master Qin smiled, raised a chess piece, then paused. “Actually, it was that remark of yours that led me to discuss things with Mingyun for several days afterward — and then I heard about what happened at the Su residence. Mingyun described it as rather complicated. Do you have a sense of how it stands, Liheng?”

“It should work out, I think.”

Ning Yi hadn’t given the matter much weight and answered offhandedly. Old Master Qin glanced at him, then finally set his piece down. “Good, then. Since Li Pin is your friend, and I hear from Mingyun that he’s quite talented too — if he heads to the capital, I could write him a letter of introduction.”

“Then I’ll thank you on Dexin’s behalf.” Ning Yi laughed. “By the way, that Vice Minister of Personnel, Fu Ying — he wasn’t ever one of your circle, was he?”

“Talking nonsense, aren’t you…” Old Master Qin scolded him with a laugh, then sighed. “By the time Li Pin sat for the examinations, I’d already resigned my post. But Fu Ying — yes, I did promote him back in the day. The man has a somewhat biased temperament, though he handles matters competently enough. Factional disputes of this kind aren’t uncommon at court, and there’s little I can do about it now. From what Mingyun tells me, Li Pin’s policy essay on that occasion happened to run contrary to a salary-increase proposal Fu Ying wanted pushed through, and his phrasing was rather pointed — but that’s how young scholars are, isn’t it, always writing something bold enough to turn heads, happens every year. Who’d have guessed Fu Ying would react so strongly — probably some political rival mocked him openly over it, and, well, that sort of thing happens…”

From start to finish, Qin Siyuan never again brought up that earlier conversation between Ning Yi and Li Pin. The two played a game of chess, chatting only about minor matters, along with some news from other regions. By the time Ning Yi and Nie Yunzhu took their leave, evening was already drawing near. Neither side had raised the matter of the “adoptive daughter” arrangement again.

“Liheng… have you said something already?” Nie Yunzhu asked quietly on the way back to the little riverside building. Ning Yi nodded. “I brought it up. He didn’t nod, but he didn’t shake his head either.”

“Hm?”

“Ha, Madam Qin and the others were pretty warm toward you, weren’t they?”

“Mm, very kind.” Yunzhu smiled and nodded. “I just worry about dragging them into trouble in return.”

“From now on, just treat them like relatives to visit now and then — no need to formally settle anything on purpose. Give it some time, and it’ll fall into place naturally. They’re good people; being friends would be fine too.”

“…Mm.” Yunzhu thought about it, nodding. “Auntie Yun asked me to go shopping with her tomorrow, and to bring Jin’er along too.”

“That’s good.”

Having seen Yunzhu home, Ning Yi was about to turn back when she called out, stopping him.

“Liheng, the matter with the Su family…” Yunzhu looked at him, thought for a moment, then finally found the words. “It’ll surely work out fine.”

Ning Yi was caught off guard for a moment, then laughed. “Don’t worry.”

By the time he made his way home, it was already dinnertime.

After that, time gradually moved into the eighth month — a month that was tense and turbulent, yet outwardly steady as ever. Aside from a few truly perceptive, sharp-minded players, few could have grasped what was really unfolding within Jiangning’s textile trade that month, or the true trajectory of the undercurrents surging beneath the surface.

With the gates closed, life still went on as usual — every day looked, on the surface, much like the one before: work continued, life continued, the pleasure quarters kept their nightly revelry, while the refugees inside and outside the city grew ever more desperate. Had a few outlying prefectures not adopted the new disaster-relief methods, easing some of the pressure, the sense of suffocation across the city would likely have grown far worse — though of course, even at its worst, that was something only felt at the level of the common people.

The matter of the textile bureau’s imperial merchant appointment would first surface publicly in late August. Word had it there would be a gathering of the textile trade, held in the name of celebrating the success of the disaster relief efforts, at which interested merchants would present their cloth as an offering to the imperial household. The decision had already been made, but the news only circulated privately — after all, if the celebration was meant to honor effective disaster relief, the various merchant houses would naturally need to show real deeds first: distributing enough porridge and rice, easing the burden on the authorities.

The households that had traditionally held the imperial merchant appointment naturally weren’t about to give it up, and the eagerness the Su, Xue, and Wu families showed toward the position had drawn in some mid-sized merchants as well, stirring the recent state of Jiangning’s textile trade into murky waters. Even with Su Boyong paralyzed and Su Tan’er bedridden, the Su family’s momentum still remained the strongest of all. And by late July, once Su Boyong’s condition had stabilized and the matter became public, Old Master Su’s tireless efforts and connections finally paid off — the assassin Chen Er confessed that he had indeed been instigated to attack Su Boyong, and that the accusation of the Su family having caused the deaths of his wife and children was entirely fabricated.

Exactly who was behind Chen Er remained impossible to determine, since even he himself didn’t know. But with his reputation cleared, the Su family’s standing in the bid for the imperial merchant appointment only strengthened further, and morale among the Eldest Branch’s shopkeepers and stewards soared. The Second and Third Branches, by contrast, stayed relatively quiet — even if the Su family had been falsely accused of driving a man’s whole family to ruin, the impact on their business elsewhere would have been limited; it was the imperial merchant matter that bore the brunt of it. And now, with the old patriarch himself clearing the path for it — could it be that the Su family was truly going to be led by Su Tan’er after all?

Amid the chaos, no one could quite predict what late August would bring. The Second and Third Branches appeared calm on the surface; the Xue and Wu families, along with several other merchant houses, competed for the imperial merchant appointment each in their own way — negotiating deals, cultivating connections — while whatever schemes and calculations lurked beneath never surfaced outright. During this period, Ning Yi, in his role as temporary head of the Eldest Branch, began integrating himself into the greater family that was Jiangning’s textile trade.

He took part in various social obligations and naturally came to know a number of people — before, as a mere scholar, he’d had no need to involve himself in such matters, but with Su Tan’er now bedridden, some necessary socializing fell to him. The most significant event during this stretch was probably the textile guild’s gathering at the end of July — a monthly meeting held regularly, since in Jiangning the textile trade had its own guild, currently headed by the Wu family, the leading name in Jiangning’s cloth business.

During this time, Ning Yi met Wu Chenghou, father of Wu Qilong and Wu Qihao, the two brothers. As guild head, he came across as an amiable, dignified middle-aged man, and made a point of speaking with Ning Yi at length. “We’re all in the same trade — rivals, yes, but also fellow travelers and mentors to one another. It’s always been our way that when one household falls short on stock, the others lend a hand — that’s what fellowship means. I’ve long heard of your talent and reputation, worthy nephew Liheng. This time, the Su family stands a strong chance in the imperial merchant matter. As for whatever the Xue family may say, worthy nephew, don’t take it too much to heart…”

The reason he brought this up was likely because of the long-standing friction between the Xue and Su families — according to Xiao Chan and Juan’er, it was always the Wu family who stepped in to mediate. This time, when Ning Yi met Xue Sheng, father of Xue Jin and Xue Yan, the atmosphere had been rather lukewarm; Xue Yan, however, treated Ning Yi rather well, even inviting him specifically to dinner and apologizing for what had happened previously.

There was also Chen Dixin of the Chen family, Lü Tianhai of the Lü family, and many others — over the course of about a month, Ning Yi had gained a fairly clear picture of the entire landscape of Jiangning’s textile trade, and the people in that trade, in turn, had formed a basic impression of him.

Talent, certainly, he had — the foremost talent, after all — but a scholar stepping into the world of commerce clearly still had trouble finding his footing. Though he didn’t attend many social functions, he carried himself with grace and refinement in conversation, but there remained a certain scholarly air he couldn’t quite shed. The Su family was in trouble, and this man who’d married in was clearly trying to lend a hand — but a lack of experience was a lack of experience. After a full month, he had, in truth, accomplished practically nothing.

In fact, aside from one embarrassing mishap over at He Fang’s, what he’d actually managed to accomplish amounted to exactly two things.

The first was closing a deal — one that had never really been in doubt to begin with, but since Ning Yi had signed off on it, naturally it got credited to him. Nothing much to discuss there, but at least it counted as something. The second was that, after racking his brain, he’d implemented a reform at one of the shops.

At the time, everyone had thought Ning Yi seemed quite confident about it — he’d spent days puzzling it over, then drew up a set of rules and had the assistants at one shop try them out. To that end, he’d trained the staff for three days: greeting customers with “Welcome,” standardizing certain phrases, and adding a good many terms that sounded rather specialized. But the reform lasted all of three days before it scared off a large number of customers, who found the whole thing stiff and off-putting.

And so this scholarly little reform met its failure, becoming something of a running joke across Jiangning’s textile trade. Ning Yi seemed to take the setback to heart, and afterward, aside from his fixed daily rounds, he took no further initiative.

During this stretch he’d also met He Fang, though naturally without discussing the imperial merchant matter in much depth. He’d tagged along with several shopkeepers drumming up business, met with a few officials from the textile bureau, but hadn’t accomplished much of anything there either. Some people had initially suspected he wouldn’t be quite so simple — Xue Jin, for one — but after twenty-some days, even he’d lost interest, since it was straightforward enough: a scholar stepping into the business world was naturally bound to look exactly like this.

As for the imperial merchant matter, this fellow clearly wasn’t going to make much of a difference — perhaps he was little more than a figurehead. Yet even so, no one let their guard down entirely, because the Su family’s shopkeepers, all this while, had continued operating tirelessly under the cover of Ning Yi’s performance, steadily pushing the campaign for the imperial merchant appointment to its peak.

There was no scheming involved at all — throughout this period, the Su family had been advancing their bid for the appointment through nothing but perfectly aboveboard, transparent effort. Neither the Xue family nor the Wu family had any real countermeasure for this, because at the end of the day, the Su family had spent years preparing for this moment, while they hadn’t — their foundation simply wasn’t as deep, and on the surface, at least, they were left trailing behind.

During this time, too, the siblings Zhou Pei and Zhou Junwu often came by the Su family’s cloth shop to wait for Ning Yi, and gradually a somewhat peculiar dynamic developed between them…

The eighth month, seemingly calm, dull, tense, and monotonous all at once, gradually wound its way toward its end. Beneath this ordinary-seeming surface, a dark undercurrent was steadily building — no one yet knew that the coming days, and the month that would follow, would completely transform the current landscape of Jiangning’s textile trade — though, of course, perhaps many already sensed it. They simply had the direction wrong.

Ning Yi merely watched it all idly, without much interest. To him, there were several genuinely interesting things going on in life, but this parade of faces on display across the various cloth shops never really registered in the depths of his mind. He’d glance at it now and then, indifferently, before turning his attention elsewhere.

What was bound to happen would simply happen in its own time — he was only waiting for it.