After the Mid-Autumn Festival, the temperature gradually dropped. A few days of rain had passed, and now the skies had finally cleared — a crisp breeze seemed to bring a touch of vitality to this city that had been sealed shut for nearly a month. The days grew bright and clear, and by night the stars shone with a clean, pure clarity, cotton-white clouds drifting across the sky one after another.
Over this past month or so, the condition of the famine victims inside and outside the city had been pushed to its very limit. Of course, it was said that in past years things had been even more dire than this — the tension had been stretched taut, though exactly where the true limit lay remained hard to say. The authorities occasionally distributed grain, and some of the wealthier households helped by handing out congee and rice, offering support both inside and outside the city. Whenever such charity relief took place, soldiers helped maintain order, and no major disturbances broke out.
Still, gangs and factions had formed among the refugees, and fights over grain broke out often — such disorder tended to follow right after the authorities and wealthy households finished distributing grain and congee, and there wasn’t much to be done about it. Since the gates closed, some deaths had occurred, though few from outright starvation; most were from brawls and looting, or from untreated illness and injury gradually worsening for lack of money to see a doctor. Still, overall, it was said the toll had actually decreased compared to previous years.
Living in this era, people had heard countless times how things had gone in years past, and most carried a measure of compassion — but for now, things weren’t so bad, and life had to go on regardless. Business continued, social engagements continued, though the mood across the city had grown noticeably quieter. The past few days of steady autumn rain had only deepened that sense of stillness and stagnation.
The Mid-Autumn poetry gathering was held as usual, just as lively as ever — only the content of the poems had shifted somewhat from years past, moving away from florid descriptions of grand scenery or musings on romance, toward laments over the reunion night by reflecting on what remained unreunited, mostly depicting the plight of refugees inside and outside the city. Li Pin, Cao Guan, Liu Qingdi, and others all produced new works, and even some previously renowned poets managed real breakthroughs this time. Notably absent, of course, was the author of last year’s much-talked-about “Prelude to Water Melody,” who had become deeply entangled in his family’s business affairs and had no time to spare for such things. Some people gossiped about his clumsiness in commerce, some mocking, others sighing — which had, if anything, considerably diminished the mystique surrounding the name “Ning Liheng.”
After Mid-Autumn, life gradually settled back into its usual rhythm, with people waiting, day by day, for the flooding’s effects to pass. The city’s many merchant houses and shops continued operating as usual amid this atmosphere. This particular morning, a crisp breeze blew through — around eight or nine in the morning — and in a small room next to a Su-family cloth warehouse somewhere in Jiangning, several people were busy at some task. This warehouse room connected to the shop next door, though business wasn’t particularly good given the current situation. A maid named Juan’er occasionally ran in to check on things.
Busy inside the room were Ning Yi, along with the siblings Zhou Pei and Zhou Junwu. The pair were dressed as young shop assistants in blue robes and small caps, but their fair, delicate skin made it obvious at a glance that they came from some background of consequence. They had, inexplicably, been following Ning Yi around for a month now, and some of the Su family had already grown used to their presence, assuming they were the master’s children or Ning Yi’s students, and let them wander about freely. Sometimes Ning Yi had them serve tea, sometimes even help carry goods — nothing heavy, of course.
For the two siblings, this kind of life felt rather novel. The day before yesterday, Ning Yi had even given them their first month’s wages — one tael and two qian of silver each, the standard rate for child laborers this month — and after comparing it to prices outside, the siblings realized one tael two qian wouldn’t buy much of anything, though the novelty of the whole experience still held plenty of appeal.
Of course, treating them as child laborers was only an occasional bit of amusement; most of the time, Ning Yi still took his role as their teacher seriously, using spare moments to give them lessons — teaching Zhou Pei modern arithmetic, in a fairly relaxed way cross-referencing addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division against the counting-rod methods of this era. At first, Zhou Pei had been dismissive of those Arabic numeral symbols, but by now she’d taken to asking about them fairly often.
The reason the three of them had been busy with today’s project traced back to a few days earlier, when the siblings had followed Ning Yi to the laboratory and, once there, he’d given them a tour and explained some basic concepts of physics. He’d found a few pieces of glass that could serve as convex lenses and was planning to put together a simple telescope for fun; caught up in the moment, he’d demonstrated the principles of focusing and magnification to the two of them. Zhou Pei hadn’t been particularly impressed, saying it was simple enough, something everyone already knew. With the telescope still under construction, Ning Yi decided to try something else — something simple, yet perhaps not quite so obvious as she assumed.
He’d had someone knock together a wooden box for him earlier, and now draped black cloth over it to form a light-blocking tent. The three of them huddled inside and lit a candle; Ning Yi then covered one side of the candle. Since the box was only half-covered, light still leaked through, so he lowered down a thick sheet of rice paper with a hole punched in it, mounted on a bamboo frame — setting up a simple pinhole-camera experiment.
Juan’er stood at the doorway, looking at the black-draped tent with some confusion. A moment later she heard voices from inside: “Look, the light here is upside down.”
“Uh…”
“Ah, Teacher, how is this happening!”
“It must be a magic trick.”
“Even magic tricks have their reasons.”
There was a burst of chatter inside. When Juan’er drew closer, Ning Yi had already stepped out from behind the black cloth and smiled at her. “Go in and take a look — it’s not much, but you probably haven’t seen anything like it before…”
Juan’er stepped in curiously, and there, on one side of the wooden box, she saw the flickering flame of the candle projected upside down.
Over this past month, Ning Yi had settled into a routine much like a working man — a morning meeting each day, a fixed circuit of rounds, and then free time after, appearing diligent while actually accomplishing little. Most of the time Xiao Chan accompanied him, sometimes Juan’er too, and the maids had all grown familiar with Zhou Pei and Zhou Junwu — the well-mannered Junwu often called them Sister Xiao Chan and Sister Juan’er. Zhou Pei was a bit more reserved, but toward them, and toward Ning Yi, she too had settled into a familiar, easy manner.
“Some people would call this frivolous trickery, so for now there’s no need to think too highly of it — but some of these things really are quite interesting. Take these two lenses, for instance — set apart at just the right distance, they can make things appear larger… hm, I’ve already had Carpenter Chen help carve a good cylinder, and I’m figuring out a way to mount them securely…”
Ning Yi always preferred teaching through casual conversation, and this morning, a long bamboo tube sat on the table by the windowsill; Xiao Pei, Junwu, and Juan’er, once she came in, each took turns peering through it, dumbfounded every time. The lenses couldn’t be fixed in place yet — Ning Yi had only found the approximate focal length and wrapped the lenses in loops of rice paper to hold them roughly in position inside the tube for a test run. Since the lenses weren’t secured, they could easily slip out of alignment, so this little telescope couldn’t be moved around yet — but judging by the results so far, it was already remarkably impressive.
“Light passing through a small hole forms an inverted image — this actually demonstrates that light travels in straight lines. But in certain cases — for instance, sticking a chopstick into water, it appears bent — light does bend there. If you’re asking what practical use there is in seeing an inverted image, that’s genuinely difficult to say, because this telescope is the product of many different things and principles combined together. Once people can study this to such a degree that everything’s fully understood, you won’t need to fumble your way to it slowly by trial the way I have — you’ll know straight away exactly what kind of lenses you need to build a telescope, what shape the curved surfaces should take… The more principles you understand, the more precisely you’ll be able to grind those curved surfaces, control them exactly as needed.”
“But you two don’t need to worry about how to make these things. What I want you to take away is… a way of thinking — connecting cause and effect, not just knowing the ‘what’ without the ‘why.’ Plenty of craftsmen have used the same old methods for years without ever knowing why those methods produce the effects they do. If you understand the underlying principles, you’ll be able to make clearer lenses, telescopes that see farther and more sharply. Efficiency will increase tenfold, a hundredfold. This holds true no matter what you’re trying to do…”
“Zhou Pei, the counting-rod arithmetic you like works the same way — it’s even clearer, since it builds endlessly outward from something as simple as one plus one equals two, two plus two equals four. We live in the world of people; that’s the world of numbers. Working out how light refracts, how much it magnifies, how far — all of it needs numbers to help. The world of numbers is pure cause and effect, clean, logical relationships… I don’t want either of you to grow up to be craftsmen or anything like that, but I do hope you can grasp this kind of logical thinking. It should prove very useful.”
“Of course, within the counting-rod system, there are some fairly extreme examples too, quite interesting to think about — for instance…”
After finishing the experiment, the conversation wandered off into all sorts of unrelated topics. Junwu, still fixated on the pinhole projection setup, kept fiddling with the telescope from time to time; Zhou Pei, though marveling at the earlier experiment, now listened more attentively than ever. Juan’er stepped out after a while to check on the shop, and once alone, murmured to herself: “The young master really is something else…”
A while later, Xi Junyu happened to pass by, came in to chat with Ning Yi for a bit, while Junwu and Xiao Pei went to fetch tea and set out seats — a routine the two children had by now developed with Ning Yi. In truth, over this past month, aside from listening to his lessons, the two of them had also been puzzling over why Ning Yi never seemed to actually do anything.
Xi Junyu was passing through today because the cloth-trade gathering was only three days off, when every household would need to formally lay out their hand, so he’d come to check on Ning Yi’s current standing. In truth, the various shopkeepers were all busy running about these days; Xi Junyu had just met with the head of another merchant house that morning and was on his way to another social obligation.
“Even though, after this month, our Su family’s standing seems the strongest, business is full of deception and rivalry, and all sorts of things need guarding against. We currently have Lord Han’s support, and Lord Dong also favors our Su family, but it’s hard to say whether some unexpected turn might still arise. Both the Xue and Su families have fairly deep networks within official circles — hard to say whether there might be some last-minute reversal. If we need any backup plan, it’s best arranged sooner rather than later.”
Within the Su family, Xi Junyu belonged to the ambitious younger faction, sharp and forward-driven, yet also level-headed. Hearing him out, Ning Yi nodded. “As for matters within official circles, the old patriarch has already done everything he can on that front. Shopkeeper Xi, I’m not too familiar with the ins and outs of it — has anything like this happened before?”
“Over the years in the cloth trade, there’s never really been this fierce a contest before. Of course, what schemes might be hidden beneath the surface, no one can say for certain… Ha, maybe I’m just overthinking it. The Su, Xue, and Wu families all have solid foundations, and since things have reached this point, there probably won’t be too many further changes. If any of them could still pull off a complete reversal at this stage, single-handedly turning the tables — well, they’d likely have swallowed up our Su family long ago.”
“That’s probably not going to happen,” Ning Yi said with a laugh. “We’ve been doing business in the open for years now — when the time comes and we lay out our goods, even if they’ve been up to something behind the scenes, they can hardly claim with a straight face that our goods are inferior. If we were some small merchant, that would be different… Ha, honestly, this time we were pushed into a corner with no choice — an assassination attempt, then a frame-up, all aimed at taking the imperial merchant appointment from us, and we still don’t know who’s behind it. If not for that, there’d have been no need to go this all-out this month. In any case, we’ve burned our boats — the hundred and fifty thousand taels we scraped together bit by bit has all gone into upgrading the looms in one go, all riding on this appointment. As for a fallback plan — there truly isn’t one.”
Xi Junyu nodded, sighed, then looked up with a smile. “Only three days left now. There shouldn’t be any real problems. Don’t worry. Also, please pass word to the young mistress — whatever happens, we’ve done everything we possibly could this time.”
“Do what you can, and leave the rest to fate,” Ning Yi said, nodding. “You’ve worked hard lately too, Shopkeeper Xi. Much obliged.”
“Just doing my part.” A few more pleasantries followed, and Xi Junyu invited him along to a gathering to meet an official from the textile bureau, but Ning Yi shook his head and declined — there wasn’t much point in him going. After Xi Junyu left, Zhou Pei and Zhou Junwu spoke up, frowning.
“Why aren’t you going?”
“You might be able to convince that person…”
Ning Yi tidied up his things, laughing. “I’ve got enough on my plate — why should I bother wasting effort on that?”
“But you don’t have anything to do at all.” Zhou Pei pouted.
“Who says I’ve got nothing to do? I’m going to eat soon, then head out to the streets this afternoon, stop by Carpenter Chen’s to pick up the telescope casing, and figure out the best way to mount it. Oh, and I’m planning to have it lacquered too, and swing by the East Market to see if there are any new storybooks for sale. What’s more important than any of that…”
“But if you don’t go to the social event, won’t something go wrong at Teacher’s house?”
“But haven’t they already handled all the socializing themselves? There’s no point in me going — all the groundwork for securing the appointment has already been laid. You two know that too. We don’t need to pull any underhanded tricks — we just need to keep our connections up, make sure everyone speaks with a clear conscience. We don’t need those textile bureau officials bending the rules in our favor out of favoritism — we’ve sent them money, gifts, this and that, made things easy for them, and as long as they don’t go against their conscience when they speak, we’re confident we’ll get it.”
“Wouldn’t it be even better if they did bend the truth in the Su family’s favor? Then it’d be all but guaranteed.”
“Sure, that wouldn’t hurt either…”
“Anyway, I think you haven’t tried your best, Teacher…”
Junwu looked a bit put out. Ning Yi just smiled. “Relax, relax, I’ve done everything that needs doing. It’s a small matter, really — not sure why you two are so worked up about it. Getting late now, let’s go. I’ll take you two to lunch…”
He was about to head off when Zhou Pei suddenly stepped in front of him, smiling. “Uh, wait, only three days left — can we take a look at that cloth too?”
Ning Yi thought about it, then tilted his head. “Ha, all right.” He took out a key, unlocked the nearby cabinet, and pulled out a brocade box, opening it to show the two children. Xiao Pei and Junwu crowded around, touching it here and there.
“Wow, it really is prettier than what we’ve seen at home…”
“I’ve never really seen this color of cloth before.”
“Trade secret.” Ning Yi smiled, then laid down some ground rules. “But one thing first — you two aren’t allowed to blab about this at home, aren’t allowed to help find people, aren’t allowed to try hinting anything to the textile bureau officials… though of course, you two don’t have that kind of influence anyway. Still, I want to be fair about it.”
“Show-off. We wouldn’t help anyway.” Zhou Pei rolled her eyes with a laugh.
Little Junwu nodded beside her. “If we don’t get the appointment, it’s definitely because that Dong Decheng took bribes — a lot of them.”
“Ha ha, come on, let’s go eat… Juan’er, come along too!”
Around midday, the group of four walked out of the cloth shop, and shortly after, several of the Prince’s guards, also disguised as shop assistants or passersby, fell in around them from all sides. Sunlight spilled down, and chatter drifted along the street.
“So this is what they mean by ‘a great strategist wins without glory’… but Teacher, you really haven’t done anything at all… Sister Juan’er, right?”
“Uh… the young master’s actually done quite a lot…”
“Of course you’d stick up for your own young master, but Sister and I haven’t seen anything… Though I suppose it makes sense — there wasn’t much that needed doing to begin with. I thought it’d be some huge crisis, but step by step it’s just gotten to this point. Isn’t this what they call an ‘open scheme,’ Sister?”
“Not sure…”
“Why not?”
“They just did one thing, and suddenly there’s no scheming left at all — isn’t that odd?”
“Yeah, yeah, Teacher, Sister’s got a point, don’t you think it’s strange?”
“An open scheme doesn’t need to fear hidden schemes.”
“Right, right, Sister… ah…”
“…You two are so noisy.”
Three days remained before the textile bureau’s gathering. After a peaceful noon came an uneventful afternoon; Ning Yi went out to the street to fetch the telescope’s casing, then bought a few small tools to help mount the lenses properly. Evening came, then night fell, and as the hour grew late, crowds began dispersing from the pleasure houses and taverns one after another. Xi Junyu bid farewell to several shopkeepers at a street corner and declined an offer to ride home in one shopkeeper’s carriage — the weather was fine tonight, and he decided to walk alone for a while.
Following the Qinhuai River, he came to a relatively secluded bend, glanced around, and made his way toward a small dock nearby. Before long, the sound of poling through water rose up as a boatman pushed a small skiff out into deeper waters. Xi Junyu stood on the boat, gazing quietly at a hazy ring of light glowing in the distance.
It was a small pleasure boat, not particularly lively-looking. As the two vessels drew close, Xi Junyu stepped aboard. In the boat’s central hall, it looked as though a banquet had just wrapped up not long before — the lighting dim, the tables scattered with the remnants of half-eaten food. Right at the front, a man sat in the host’s seat, holding a bowl of plain rice, head down, eating. Hearing footsteps, he popped a meatball into his mouth, still not looking up, picking at the dish in front of him with his chopsticks as he spoke.
“I was just thinking, maybe I sent everyone off too early — should’ve kept a beauty around to keep me company, the meal would’ve tasted better. Good thing Brother Xi came early — that’ll do just as well.”
Xi Junyu walked to one side and casually picked up a bowl. “I’m no beauty.”
“Ha ha, but… Brother Xi always brings me good news.”
The man laughed and looked up. In the lamplight, the face before him was unmistakably that of the Wu family’s eldest son, Wu Qilong.