Past the middle of the tenth lunar month, the weather still wasn’t especially cold, though the heat had long since faded for good. These past few days, the once seemingly bloodthirsty atmosphere within Jiangning’s textile trade had gradually quieted, a somber stillness settling over everything behind the scenes. Call it, perhaps, the calm and tension that comes before a great upheaval—the Wu family’s delivery of the imperial cloth was fast approaching, while on the other hand, the Su family’s early-convened clan assembly was also imminent. At this particular moment, the latter event seemed to be drawing even more attention than the former.

It really was rather strange—originally, the Su family’s push to rise to power and seize the imperial merchant title had stirred up the whole of Jiangning’s textile trade, and now that the Su family faced troubles of its own, likely heading toward fracture and decline, it was drawing everyone’s attention all over again just the same. The Wu family, by contrast, the consistent victor throughout, had maintained a characteristically low profile even before securing the imperial merchant title, and now drew notably less attention than the Su family did. Other merchant houses, whenever the topic came up, tended to use it as a lesson for those around them: a truly skilled warrior wins without dramatic glory, and it was precisely this sort of steady, composed greatness—like the Wu family’s—that achieved lasting success, while those who leapt about here and there would, in the end, become nothing more than a laughingstock.

With less than five days remaining before the Su family’s clan assembly, under a warm and mellow sun, a travel-worn carriage rolled through Jiangning’s streets, making its way toward the Su estate. It was just past noon when the carriage pulled up before the Su family’s gate, where waiting servants immediately hurried forward to greet it. Stepping down from the carriage were a steady-looking middle-aged man in his forties and a young woman in her early twenties. As the man spoke with the servants, the young woman lifted her gaze toward the Su family’s gate, her expression touched with worry.

“Steward Yan said Uncle and Young Miss might arrive today, so he told me to wait here for you…”

The middle-aged man addressed as “Uncle” was named Su Yunsong, currently the Su family’s chief steward overseeing affairs in the Dengzhou region. Not only was he a relative by marriage to the Su family, but he was also exceptionally capable, holding a position of considerable weight within the family as a whole, and was one of the Eldest Branch’s staunchest supporters. Among the Su family’s pragmatic, hands-on stewards, if Liao Kaitai served as the core figure in Jiangning itself, then out in the provinces, Su Yunsong’s influence was undoubtedly the greatest of all.

Accompanying Su Yunsong, naturally, was his daughter—Su Tan’er’s cousin, Su Danhong. She now turned to ask the servant, “Is Sister Tan’er home today?”

“Second Young Miss went out this morning, sir. It’s been that way every day lately—she usually doesn’t return until evening.”

Su Danhong had more or less expected an answer like this, but she frowned all the same. “I suppose that makes sense. But… she was only sick for over a month just recently, and now she’s working herself to exhaustion again every single day—it really is hard on her…”

This last remark was directed at her father beside her. Su Yunsong sighed and patted his daughter’s shoulder. “If she’s chosen to take this on, she has to be prepared for it. Don’t dwell on it too much—let’s go in and see how your uncle’s injury is doing first.”

With that, the group made their way into the Su estate.

Over these recent weeks, the Su household had grown livelier by the day—the sort of bustling activity that ordinarily wouldn’t arrive until year’s end had come more than a month early. Stewards, relatives, and friends were converging on Jiangning from all over, all of them already aware of the Su family’s current circumstances; at the upcoming clan assembly, each of them would surely bring their own influence to bear. This held true for the Eldest, Second, and Third Branches alike. Su Danhong already had a husband, who was likely staying behind to hold down affairs in Dengzhou this time so that Su Yunsong could return to Jiangning; but out of concern for her close cousin, Su Danhong had chosen to accompany her father alone.

Along the way, they encountered several stewards they recognized, exchanging greetings from a distance, and before long crossed paths with Xi Junyu. He was one of the most capable stewards in the Jiangning area, someone who had first risen to prominence during Su Yunsong’s own tenure as chief steward in Jiangning. Though their past acquaintance hadn’t been especially close, they’d always thought well of each other since. The two exchanged greetings, and Xi Junyu walked alongside them, chatting as they went—in truth, he too looked travel-worn and rather busy these days.

Rounding a bend in the path ahead, still discussing the current state of Jiangning’s textile trade, Su Danhong pointed forward. “Father, it’s Xi Anzhi.” In the distance, a goat-bearded man bowed with a smile in their direction; Su Yunsong returned the gesture, as did Xi Junyu, who then added quietly, “Xi Anzhi and Yu Daxian arrived several days ago already—they’ve been lobbying on behalf of the Second and Third Masters within the household, and they’ve had no small effect.”

Xi Anzhi and Yu Daxian were among the more capable stewards serving the Second and Third Branches; compared to the mediocrity of the third generation in those branches, these two were genuinely competent men. Su Yunsong frowned. “I’ve heard that even Fifth Uncle and Seventh Uncle back home have been swayed by their arguments.”

Xi Junyu nodded quietly beside him.

Su Danhong said, “Father, you really must have a good talk with Third Grandfather this time. Otherwise, things really will turn out badly.”

“I’ll certainly say what needs saying, but the situation’s already reached this point…” Su Yunsong sighed. “Your Third Grandfather isn’t having an easy time of it either—we’ll just have to see how fortune falls. But… as I told you on the way here, if a thing can’t be saved, one must be prepared to let go. Your cousin Tan’er stepping back this time might actually be for the best. You’ve said yourself, time and again, that it’s no long-term solution for a young woman to keep working herself this hard. What do you think, Steward Xi?”

Xi Junyu was silent for a long moment, then looked up. “Circumstances overpower even the strongest will…”

At this, both father and daughter fell into silence as well. After a moment, Su Danhong said, “It’s just hard to let go of, in my heart.”

“With me here, and Steward Liao and the others here too, the Eldest Branch will still want for nothing, living out a comfortable, unburdened life—there’s nothing wrong with that, in its own way.”

Su Yunsong spoke with a certain steady confidence in his words. Even if the Eldest Branch couldn’t retain family leadership, his own influence and that of Steward Liao and the others remained intact—the foundation for protecting the Eldest Branch from being bullied would still be there. As for everything else, if it couldn’t be saved, then so be it; he’d let it go freely enough. Su Danhong, though, wasn’t quite so able to take things in stride as her father. After a moment, she turned back to ask the servant, “If Sister Tan’er is out, is Young Master Ning home?”

She’d met Ning Yi a few times during last year’s New Year celebrations and had come away with a decent impression at the time—but she no longer held quite such a favorable view of him now. The servant considered for a moment. “The young master… he also usually doesn’t come back until evening.”

“Oh? So he still knows enough to go out and help with things, does he?” Su Danhong’s expression brightened slightly. The servant hesitated, and Su Danhong looked at him with puzzlement; after a moment, Xi Junyu sighed. “Just tell her.”

“The young master… he teaches at the academy. Classes end in the morning, and in the afternoon he’s usually out wandering somewhere…”

“What—”

“Don’t get upset now, in this household…” Xi Junyu glanced around, offering what comfort he could. “The things people say around here aren’t very kind either…”

“…Hmph.”

Su Danhong’s face was clouded with anger. Xi Junyu didn’t dare say much more; mindful of the boundaries appropriate to his position, and seeing that they were nearing Su Boyong’s residence, he bowed and took his leave.

“If only we’d known, it would have been so much better to marry Tan’er off to him instead…”

Watching Xi Junyu’s retreating figure, Su Danhong muttered under her breath. Su Yunsong frowned beside her. “Don’t say things like that.”

Su Danhong lowered her head, though privately she resolved to have a proper talk with her cousin once she returned—though she hadn’t yet decided quite how to approach it, only that she felt some displeasure she needed to voice. She recalled that even last year, when she’d visited, her cousin and this husband of hers still hadn’t consummated their marriage…

…

Chaos and confusion, restless and unsettled.

Ever since Su Boyong’s sudden assassination attempt had set things in motion, the Su family had seemed, these past several months, as though under some kind of curse, or perhaps injected with some potent stimulant—filled with one intense conflict and entanglement after another, various desires stirred up and tangled together by that initial spark. Some watched quietly from the sidelines, occasionally letting out a laugh, though not necessarily out of happiness—perhaps simply out of the absurdity, the tedium of it all. Ning Yi was one such observer. Others actively tried to push these desires in one direction or another—Su Tan’er, for instance, or the Old Patriarch, or Su Zhongkan and Su Yunfang, and so on and so forth.

Of course, amid such chaos, even Ning Yi likely couldn’t remain entirely untouched by it all—though naturally, there were also those who felt the effects far less, not necessarily because these people saw things clearly, but more often simply because they remained unaware of what was truly happening. At Yushan Academy, Ning Yi’s class now had eleven students remaining—a count that included two newly arrived students, meaning that of the original ten-plus students, nine now remained.

When the internal power struggles at home spilled over into the academy, several students had been forcibly withdrawn by their parents. Among the nine who remained, several also spent their days discussing their teacher—some saying he’d ruined the Eldest Branch, botched their business affairs. These matters came up constantly at home, and the children couldn’t help but be affected by it to some degree.

Little Xiao Qi felt that her second cousin had been treated rather unfairly, and had been feeling somewhat down about it lately.

As Su Yunfang’s second daughter, Xiao Qi was currently, apart from Zhou Pei, the only other girl left in the class. She’d originally had a companion, but that friend, too, had been forced by her parents to leave. Xiao Qi herself hadn’t left—Su Yunfang had probably kept her enrolled precisely because it made the Third Branch look more magnanimous by comparison.

Xiao Qi knew that the Eldest Branch and her own Third Branch were locked in some kind of struggle, but as far as she was concerned, she still didn’t quite understand what exactly the whole family was fighting over. She liked her beautiful, capable second cousin, and she also liked her current teacher, Brother Yi—Brother Yi already knew so much, surely he couldn’t possibly know absolutely everything, and it seemed unfair that her father and second uncle kept picking on him so much… In truth, this was because Su Yunfang had discussed Ning Yi at home, laughing that of course a mere scholar couldn’t be expected to understand so much—perfectly natural. That was how Xiao Qi had come to know all this.

Hearing others discuss the matter, she wanted to argue back but didn’t know how to put it into words; she also wanted to comfort Brother Yi, but she genuinely had no idea how to go about that either. Still, as the talk of the Eldest, Second, and Third Branches grew more and more frequent at home these past few days, the worried little girl finally worked up the courage today, after school let out, to sneak off to the room where the tutors did their work.

Ning Yi had stayed rather late today, sorting through some things, and when he glanced toward the doorway, he spotted the little girl peeking in furtively. Teachers, after all, are fond of well-behaved students, and this one was likely the most well-behaved of them all. He smiled. “Xiao Qi, is something the matter?”

Realizing she’d been spotted, the little girl, who’d quickly ducked out of sight by the door, came back in with her head lowered. “T-teacher.”

“Er…” The little girl hesitated for a moment, then decided to go with the excuse she’d prepared beforehand, pulling out a sheet of paper from inside her robe. “Teacher, about what you taught today on writing poems and verses—Xiao Qi doesn’t quite understand…”

“Hm?”

Ning Yi’s curriculum moved from the Analects through to the Doctrine of the Mean, occasionally weaving in basic concepts about poetry and verse. The little girl, only about nine years old this year, understandably had some trouble keeping up. Ning Yi himself had no particular gift for poetry, but after more than a year here of teaching and reading, he’d at least developed the basic groundwork, and he smiled and waved her in. Looking over the girl’s sheet of paper, he found, to his surprise, that she’d carefully written out an entire cí poem—the grammar was clumsy, the flow not entirely smooth, but the character count matched, and it rhymed, carrying its own basic meaning. That was genuinely impressive.

Ning Yi spent a while explaining the poem to her, privately thinking he might show it off to Old Master Qin or Yunzhu sometime, but after a moment, he began to sense something wasn’t quite right.

The little girl, stumbling over her words, began talking about how things were at home, and how impressive he was, and so on—she was, it turned out, trying to console him, worried he might be sad.

His heart warmed at this. He patted her head and quickly reassured her that he wasn’t sad at all. “Of course I’m not sad. Your Brother Yi is Jiangning’s foremost talent, after all. Mm, but Xiao Qi, your gift for poetry is so impressive, you’ll probably surpass me one day. Would you give this poem to me?”

“Mm-hm.” The little girl nodded, then after a moment added, rather slyly, “Then would Brother Yi write me a poem to trade for it?”

“Sure.”

Ning Yi smiled, picked up the brush, and wrote out a poem, handing the sheet to the little girl, then folded up her own poem.

“A trade—from now on, this one’s mine, and that one’s yours. Sound good?”

“Mm-hm.” Xiao Qi nodded firmly, reading over the poem several times. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was good or not, and asked about a few unfamiliar characters, then tucked the sheet carefully inside her robe.

…

In the afternoon, the academy generally ran various minor lessons. Zhou Pei and Junwu hadn’t come today; the group of children in Ning Yi’s class went off with other classes to play cuju, while a few of the younger girls at the academy played on the lawn nearby.

Su Chonghua made his rounds through the academy grounds.

His mood had been excellent lately.

The Eldest Branch was, in the end, unable to hold on—and he was closely aligned with Su Zhongkan of the Second Branch. Once the Eldest Branch lost power, the Second Branch would clearly be the one to gain the advantage. By this point, he himself had no particularly great ambitions—being headmaster was enough for him—but once the Eldest Branch fell from power, this Ning Yi fellow would obviously become far easier to manage, far easier to keep in line, and the academy would run more smoothly overall. Whatever benefits came his way, he could count on there being even more of them.

He’d lent no small amount of help in persuading Fifth Uncle to switch sides. For now, everything was proceeding smoothly, and all that remained was to wait for the clan assembly, just days away.

Glancing around, he watched the academy’s students playing happily in the distance. As for the person he’d once cared most about watching… oh, Ning Yi had surely already left for the day. He suspected that lately Ning Yi had taken to drowning his sorrows in drink out there every day—which, after all, was only human nature, so let him be. The man did have genuine talent; now that he no longer posed any threat, Su Chonghua could put him to even better use himself. A period of low spirits hardly mattered—if anything, it was all for the good, beneficial to everyone involved…

“Ahhh—!” A girl’s shriek rang out, and a sheet of paper came tumbling across the ground, blown by the wind, rolling and rolling, with a little girl running after it. Oh, it was Xiao Qi. Su Chonghua smiled—he was rather fond of this little niece of his, generally speaking—and hurried forward a few steps, bending down to pick up the sheet of paper, smiling warmly. “Xiao Qi, slow down, slow down now, don’t fall and hurt yourself…”

There were characters written on the paper—a cí poem. He glanced down at it as he handed it over…

“…er… Dingfengbo?”