These past few days, strange feelings had occasionally drifted across Su Chonghua’s mind — even he himself couldn’t quite explain the specific reasons why.

Su Chonghua’s standing within the Su family had always been fairly high, thanks to the old patriarch’s regard for him, and since the actual manager of Yushan Academy was Su Zhongkan, he had for several years now counted as an important participant in the second branch’s affairs. Recently, the second and third branches had joined forces against the main branch, preparing to first eliminate this branch — thin in numbers within the Su family but seemingly the most threatening — and he had taken part in this as well. Occasionally, at various gatherings, people discussed the current state of the second branch’s position — external threats hadn’t been fully cleared, but at least internal troubles had settled somewhat, and they’d taken a big step forward on the path toward real control of the Su family. Everyone’s mood about this was quite pleased.

Today counted as a major day. From the moment he’d woken that morning, he’d known this in his heart, and everyone’s mood was a little different too. In the early morning, he’d run into Su Zhongkan in a nearby courtyard, along with several other managers and stewards close to the second branch, and everyone had been all smiles and easy laughter.

He understood well enough that tonight’s outcome was more or less settled. Su Tan’er had spent far too much money preparing for the imperial merchant matter without bringing in any returns, which had now led the merchants outside to start distrusting the Su family. All of this could finally be brought up tonight. Many people within the Su family were pushing together on this, and even some elders who’d originally disapproved of a woman heading the family, or who’d been wavering on the matter, had begun to side with the second and third branches. Even the normally forceful Third Uncle seemed powerless to stop it now.

And yet, even as everyone in the second branch was filled with anticipation, that strange feeling still occasionally surfaced — especially these past few days, whenever he happened to glimpse Ning Yi’s carefree, unhurried figure from the side, some unwelcome, complicating thought would always stir in his heart.

Calming the Waves…

What he occasionally recalled was that ci poem he’d seen a few days earlier.

That poem really was excellent.

Su Chonghua did, after all, have genuine talent — something of a minor literary reputation in Jiangning. After so many years writing poetry and ci, works that truly struck him with awe were rare indeed. And yet, coincidentally, both of Ning Yi’s previous two works had done exactly that — setting aside “Drinking Wine with Pei Di,” which hardly counted — and now this “Calming the Waves” did the same. Of course, taken in isolation, he might have thought this poem was simply a scholar’s self-consolation, self-intoxication — having lost so completely and utterly, yet insisting on writing himself as though he were the victor, and the fact that the poem was kept hidden away, not shown openly, was proof enough of that.

But… every time he actually saw Ning Yi in person, and set that against this poem — or against other poems he’d seen written by other people — the feeling was always somehow different.

Su Chonghua stood off to the side of the private school’s classroom now, watching with a thoughtful expression.

“…This touches on the study of calculation, which you’ll all learn about this afternoon — though I don’t really want to teach you the calculations themselves, just some of the logical framework within it, the principles and methods of thinking, which are quite interesting… Far to the west there’s a country called Greece, and there’s a story there called Zeno’s Paradox. One day, a great hero who could run very fast encountered a tortoise, and the tortoise said: ‘If you race me, you’ll never catch up to me…'”

At the front of the classroom, Ning Yi was lecturing with a smile, drawing lines on the blackboard with chalk. “The great hero said, even if I ran ten times slower than my actual speed, my speed is still ten times yours — how could I possibly not catch up? So the tortoise said, well, let’s say for example, you’re a hundred zhang behind me, and your speed is ten times mine, and you come chasing after me. By the time you’ve run a hundred zhang and reached where I am now, I’ve already moved forward ten zhang, so you keep chasing that ten zhang, but by then I’ve moved forward another zhang, and once you catch up to that zhang, I’m still ahead of you… You can keep getting closer to me, but you’ll never catch up. The great hero thought what the tortoise said made sense, and stood there scratching his head, utterly baffled…”

His lessons were always like this — nominally about the Great Learning or the Doctrine of the Mean, but he’d insist on dragging in all sorts of unrelated things, though they usually turned out fairly entertaining. A new student in the back named Zhou Junwu raised his hand. “Teacher, where is Greece?” And so Ning Yi began, smiling, to explain about Greece.

Watching this carefree figure who seemed to have put today entirely out of mind — who seemed not even to have taken to heart the changes the Su family had gone through this past month or more — and setting that against “Calming the Waves,” that strange feeling rose up in him again. He frowned, and after a long moment, finally turned and left.

This Liheng — his skill in writing ci was truly formidable, that a single poem alone could affect him like this.

Su Chonghua thought to himself, then shook his head…

…

The morning gradually passed, and by afternoon, several of the Su family’s courtyards had filled with people, bustling as though for New Year’s. By this point, factions had finally become completely distinct — no need for excessive caution anymore, only waiting for tonight’s events to unfold. Members of the main, second, and third branches continued arriving one after another.

At Su Yu’s courtyard, visitors kept coming all day as well.

“…I do think that Second Girl handling so much of the household’s affairs was, after all, too much pressure for her. Everyone knows her ability, of course — if the main branch had a capable son to take over, even with this incident, we’d probably still feel she could keep managing things. But after all…”

“Given how things stand with the third branch now, we really can’t keep grinding on like this any longer, Third Brother…”

“Ah, if only Boyong hadn’t run into that trouble…”

The reception room wasn’t lavishly furnished, but it carried an air of settled dignity. Su Yu sat in the seat of honor, leaning on his cane, eyes closed, resting. Below him, people spoke one after another. These were all senior brothers within the family — tonight’s clan assembly would, in the end, still require their say to settle the matter. Since there was much to discuss that evening, it was best to sort out a rough outline beforehand.

Setting aside various positions and self-interest, how could they not know Su Tan’er’s ability? But the current state of the Su family was, after all, a matter of the third branch seizing property. With Su Boyong down, there was no way around it — if Su Tan’er kept stubbornly holding on, it would eventually turn into a vicious cycle of internal attrition. Su Yu clearly understood all this too; it was just that, even now, he hadn’t given a clear indication of his stance.

This old man’s authority was simply too great — without his position, there could be no outline for tonight’s matter, and things might well erupt into argument by evening. They were all old men now, and most of them didn’t want to see that happen. The third branch’s bid for the estate could still be managed with Su Yu presiding, but if the old man’s mind refused to bend, and that evening he insisted on standing firmly on his granddaughter’s side against everyone else, the consequences for the family could be hard to predict.

Though Su Yu had remained remarkably clear-headed all these years, he was old now, and no one could be certain he wouldn’t suddenly dig in his heels tonight.

“So, Third Brother, on these matters, you really must say something.”

Seventh Uncle below stood up, somewhat anxious, looking around at the others, and a few more of the elders chimed in in agreement. Su Yu opened his eyes a crack and gave them a narrow-eyed look. “Say what?”

“What you plan to do about Second Girl’s situation — there has to be some clear direction. Speak up, so we can have some sense of where things stand…”

“I have no sense of it myself — how could I give you a clear direction?”

“That’s not… Third Brother, on this matter… you can’t have no sense of it. All these years, everyone’s followed your lead.”

“Tonight, we’ll need to hear what Eldest, Second, and Third have to say, and what everyone else has to say, and what Second Girl herself has to say — only then will the matter be clear, only then will everyone be able to see it plainly.”

“Third Brother, that’s just talking around it. Of course we’ll listen to what they say when the time comes, but everyone already knows roughly what they’ll say. If you don’t state your position first, we…”

“Seventh Brother.” Su Yu’s cane struck the ground. He looked at his younger brother, now in his fifties, and his gaze softened as he sighed. “No one knows how things will really turn out until the very end. In any case, when the time comes, if there’s reason on someone’s side, follow it; if there isn’t, let it go. Let’s not resort to unreasonable words. I don’t see the matter clearly myself right now either.”

The old man closed his eyes again, continuing to rest. “In any case, we’ll discuss it tonight.”

The afternoon sunlight fell across the doorway, spreading a bright patch of light, and the buzzing murmur of discussion rose up again…

…

In a somewhat secluded teahouse, three maids and several shop managers were busy flipping through ledgers, copying things down in front of them, while across from them sat several core members of the Wu family. Sunlight spilled beneath the eaves, a breeze occasionally drifting through, with the occasional murmur of low conversation.

Su Tan’er sat quietly to one side, drinking tea. Ever since the Wu family had capitulated, everything had gone smoothly — the two sides were now nearly falling into a tacit rhythm of cooperation, though of course, the cooperating party was anything but happy about it.

Wu Qilong sat not far off, drinking his tea quietly too, watching the patches of sunlight on the ground near his feet. Since that first day, Wu Chenghou hadn’t come again — Wu Qilong had been leading things ever since.

“Tonight, I hear Xue Yan and the others have arranged a dinner at Yuexiang Tower over on Persimmon Street. The Lü family and the Chen family will probably send people too.” Wu Qilong spat out a bit of tea leaf, speaking as though it had nothing to do with him. “They’re quite concerned about all this. Their expressions afterward should be rather amusing.” Even as he said “amusing,” his own expression showed nothing of the sort.

Su Tan’er had grown too weary to bother provoking him over such things. The first day had been a matter of tit-for-tat, establishing dominance from the start — after that, none of it mattered anymore. “As agreed, you should tell me the rest of it today too.”

Wu Qilong glanced off to the side. “Later. If I can put it off a little longer, I will. It amuses me.”

“Suit yourself.” Su Tan’er turned her gaze elsewhere. “But if you drag your feet and someone gets away because of it, I won’t be able to swallow that, and neither will my father.”

“Hmph.”

Wu Qilong gave a cold snort, then after a moment: “That husband of yours — what’s he up to these days?”

“Wandering around, visiting friends for a game of chess, or listening to some young lady sing opera somewhere.” Su Tan’er tilted her head back and laughed. “As for what my husband does out there — as his wife, it’s not really my place to ask too much… I just need to keep the household in order.”

…

Ning Yi was, in fact, watching a young lady perform.

On the second floor of Zhu Ji, Ning Yi sat at a table, drinking tea and eating snacks. These days, there was regularly someone performing music and song at the front of this restaurant, though the performance Ning Yi was watching wasn’t that.

Yuan Jin’er sat beside him at the moment, and not far off diagonally across, the great talent named Liu Qingdi sat there too, his gaze fixed intently on them.

A few days earlier, Liu Qingdi had already tracked down Zhu Ji — through what channel he’d found Yuan Jin’er, no one quite knew, but in any case, he’d been coming by often lately. Today, with both Jin’er and Ning Yi present, she’d sauntered over to sit with him, her manner toward Ning Yi rather intimate.

Rumor in the pleasure quarters had it that Yuan Jin’er had once had something going on with both Cao Guan and Liu Qingdi — how deep the feelings between talented scholars and beautiful women actually ran was hard to say, probably not reaching the twisted intensity of Gu Yanzhen’s case from before, but Liu Qingdi’s resentment toward Ning Yi had its own roots too — various complicated reasons, such as both of them being fellow men of letters, or that incident with Yuan Jin’er’s performance — being stared down like this constantly left Ning Yi a bit exasperated. This grudge had been sown at the Yancui Tower long ago, and it didn’t look like it would be resolved anytime soon.

“You find this interesting?”

Ning Yi said with a smile, leaning a little closer to Yuan Jin’er.

“It’s… interesting.”

Yuan Jin’er leaned in too, playing the part of a delicate little bird nestled close — though in reality, Ning Yi couldn’t take any advantage at all. A courtesan queen was a courtesan queen; beneath the surface she kept her distance, quietly steering him back.

“Where’s Yun Zhu?”

“Sister Yun Zhu said she wouldn’t come out to join the fun this time — she’s inside sorting out the account books. So it’s just little me out here keeping our great hero company.”

It being early winter, both of them were dressed in somewhat thicker clothes, and Jin’er had dressed up quite prettily too. The two of them sat leaning together, pressed close in that small space, jostling playfully, while Liu Qingdi glared daggers at them from across the room.

“Given how ambiguous things are between us right now, wouldn’t it be perfectly reasonable if I took a little liberty with you?”

“Sure, go ahead — this young lady’s willing to sacrifice her reputation, just so Sister Yun Zhu can see exactly what kind of man you really are.”

“Am I supposed to be scared?”

“Come on, then.”

“Passing up a free advantage… you’re really putting me in a difficult position…”

Jin’er pursed her lips into a smile, pure and innocent as could be, their gazes crossing in the air, sparks flying. In the next instant, just as Ning Yi was about to make some rather risky move, Jin’er twisted her body, and with a crisp “smack,” the sound of a slap rang out through the second-floor hall. Liu Qingdi, who’d been trying not to look at this shameless pair, turned his gaze sharply toward them, and everyone else’s eyes turned that way too.

In full view, the pure and beautiful young woman rose and stumbled back a couple of steps, the items on the table rattling loudly. One hand pressed to her cheek, she stared at Ning Yi seated there, tears already welling in her eyes — the very picture of a delicate flower drenched in rain, utterly pitiable.

“Scoundrel!”

Damn, beaten to it…

That slap hadn’t actually landed at all — Jin’er had simply sprung up suddenly and swung her hand, but only her sleeve had brushed past Ning Yi’s cheek. Being trained as a dancer, though, with those wide sleeves, she’d clapped her own hands together beneath them with a sharp crack — to everyone else’s eyes, it had looked exactly like a humiliating slap.

“…Beast, impatient rascal, shameless cad…”

Jin’er wiped at her tears, giving Ning Yi a quick wink with one eye. Ning Yi pursed his lips. “You’re vicious.” Over there, Liu Qingdi had already leapt to his feet. Jin’er went on, “I hadn’t even given you permission in my heart yet, and you… how could you do this…”

Then she ran off.

Liu Qingdi certainly wasn’t the only indignant one in the restaurant, but hearing Jin’er’s final tone — sounding almost like a coquettish complaint — left everyone rather unsure what to make of the relationship between the two. Ning Yi sighed, lifted his teacup, and turned his face away.

A few of the staff who had some idea of the relationships between Ning Yi, Yuan Jin’er, and Nie Yunzhu stood there dumbfounded for a good while, unsure what game their proprietors were playing at this time.

This tea’s undrinkable now…

Jin’er scurried into the back room, allowed herself a moment of smug satisfaction in the hallway, then worked up the right emotion, wiped at her eyes, and ran inside, pushing open the door and crying with utter sincerity, hand pressed to her face. “Sister Yun Zhu, Ning Yi’s getting more and more outrageous — I was just joking around with him, and he took liberties with me, right in front of everyone, ask Xiao Ding and the others if you don’t believe me…”

Yun Zhu blinked, stunned for a moment. “In front of everyone… how did he take liberties with you?”

“He kissed me on the cheek.” Jin’er sat down beside Yun Zhu, sniffling, her gaze stubborn. “It was just a joke, but he must have done it on purpose!”

Yun Zhu held her face for a moment, then kissed the same spot herself. “Fine, there — I’ve avenged the liberty for you.”

“I’m serious!” Jin’er protested. “Sister Yun Zhu, you always believe him and not me!”

“He wouldn’t do something like that in front of everyone, of all people — as if I’d believe you… come help me with the ledgers.”

“This is really hard to calculate… no wait, why wouldn’t it be — men are all like that, he probably thinks he’s being sneaky about it. You don’t believe it happened in front of everyone, and that’s exactly what he’s counting on, how sinister — if next time he does it to me in front of everyone…” Jin’er struggled on for a while, “…does that to me, in front of everyone, would you still not believe me then…”

Though she’d been a chaste courtesan before, growing up steeped in the pleasure quarters had clearly left its mark — no other woman could possibly say such things so casually. Yun Zhu burst out laughing. “If he really did… did that to you in front of everyone, well, whatever it was, I still wouldn’t believe it…”

Jin’er kept her face stern for a moment, then couldn’t help laughing too. “You’re just biased, that’s all.” She turned her head and started helping with the ledgers.

“He’s got something going on tonight, don’t keep pestering him.”

“I pester him because I like him — it’s not because I hate him, you know…”

…

With a thud, a teacup was set down. The afternoon sunlight had begun turning a warm gold, spilling into the teahouse. Su Chonghua was startled awake by the sound and looked up at the middle-aged man across from him.

“Brother Chonghua seems to have had something on his mind these past few days. Are you perhaps worried about tonight’s family matter?”

The middle-aged man across from him was tall and thin, with a wisp of a goatee — one of Su Chonghua’s usual poetry companions, named Chen Lu, styled himself the Recluse of the Empty Mountain, and had some reputation in Jiangning as well. They’d crossed paths on the road this afternoon, and he’d come over for tea.

“Heh, tonight… probably won’t amount to much of anything…”

“Don’t try to hide it from me, Brother Chonghua. I’ve heard your Su family’s clan assembly is approaching, with major changes expected. You seemed distracted at the poetry gathering the other day, without much enthusiasm — if not worry over this matter, what else could it be? If nothing’s really happening tonight, why don’t we skip that mundane business altogether and join me at the Changyun Pavilion gathering instead — wouldn’t that be better?”

“The clan assembly — even though the outcome hardly concerns me directly, I still ought to attend, in the end.” Su Chonghua smiled, then thought for a moment. “Heh, but speaking of the poetry gathering the other day… honestly, I was just musing on the subject of poetry — it truly requires a certain gift. A few days ago I saw a ci poem, and it left my mind rather tangled ever since. I keep thinking of it these days — heh, it’s actually taken the wind out of my own poetic ambitions.”

“Oh?” Chen Lu grew interested. “Sounds like it must be quite a fine piece?”

“Extremely fine.” Su Chonghua shook his head. “It’s just that comparing the person who wrote it against the work itself is truly something to sigh over.”

“Now you’ve really got me curious, Brother Chonghua. Don’t keep me in suspense — out with it, out with it.”

“Heh, it was written by a nephew-in-law of our family — this Ning Yi, Ning Liheng. Brother Kongshan, you’ve already heard of his exploits before. The current state of my Su family owes something to him too… A few days ago, he happened to write out a ci poem, and only showed it privately to a nine-year-old child in the household. I happened to see it by chance. This ‘Calming the Waves’ — its artistic conception is unlike anything I’ve seen in my life, no lesser than his previous two works. So whenever I see this man, or see other people’s poetry, I can’t help but think of it — heh, and it’s actually made me rather lose interest in writing poetry myself. And yet this man — he really is hopeless at everything else…”

Su Chonghua shook his head, dipping a finger in his tea, and there in the fading afternoon sunlight, sighing all the while, wrote out the poem — as if trying, through this very act, to savor its meaning once more. The middle-aged man across from him listened, watched the words appear, his expression gradually growing serious…

…

In front of a small teahouse on the other side of the city, the carriages had already arrived. Su Tan’er and Wu Qilong stood beneath the eaves, each preparing to leave. Wu Qilong looked up at the sunlight.

“The people you want — they are…”

Su Tan’er’s gaze had always been cool and composed, but hearing Wu Qilong name these things, her eyes trembled for a moment, and her brow furrowed slightly, though she said nothing. Only after he finished did she think it over and finally say, “Just those two?”

“Believe it or not.”

“No, I believe you.”

“Hm?”

“Some of them we already knew about. If you’d been hiding something back, it might really have caused problems.” She smiled. “Do you know what the first thing my husband said was, when he got home after showing his hand to you that day?”

“What?”

“That Qi Guangzu was the traitor.”

“…” Wu Qilong frowned, looking at her.

“Because the first thing you said to my husband was: ‘So it really was you.'”

“So what?”

“He went digging for information through Manager Zhou, and Manager Zhou wasn’t actually drunk. Once trouble started brewing on your side, of course you’d try to dig for information one way or another — my husband had already set up several ways beforehand for information to slip out unintentionally. To Qi Guangzu, what Manager Zhou said was that the person he admired most was Grandfather and my husband… My husband said you shouldn’t have said ‘so it really was you’ with quite that much drama in your voice — the moment he heard it, he knew right away whether it was a guess or a certainty… I just hadn’t expected there to be two of them…”

A silence fell, like a cold cave swallowing Wu Qilong whole.

Su Tan’er glanced at him.

“Let’s go. Let’s cooperate well from here on out. I don’t want to wipe out your entire Wu family — that wouldn’t be good for my Su family’s reputation either.”

Turning away, Su Tan’er’s gaze turned cold. Wu Qilong stood there, watching Su Tan’er’s carriage disappear into the distance, the sunlight on him unable to warm him at all. Off in that direction, Ning Yi’s careless figure seemed to stand there too, gaze turned this way, casting its shadow over the entire Wu family…

…

Within the Su residence, people had already begun talking and laughing, emerging one by one from the various courtyards — a lively din, mixed with ease, worry, laughter, and quiet delight, all sorts of people gradually gathering together as though for the New Year, exchanging pleasantries and greetings.

The evening banquet was more or less ready. After the banquet would come the clan assembly, the meeting that would decide the Su family’s direction for years to come. Elsewhere in the city, Xue Yan, Xue Jin, and the others had already left their homes, heading in groups toward tonight’s gathering place.

“Hurry, hurry — tonight’s gathering, we’ve spent a fortune inviting the courtesan queen herself, you’re all in luck, make sure to put on a good show when the time comes…”

“The courtesan queen? Could it be Miss Qilan?”

As merchants, the Xue family had generally kept good relations with the Puyang clan. This year’s courtesan-queen contest had seen the Puyang family elevate Qilan to that title, and since it wasn’t peak season, whoever they could secure would most likely be her — though Xue Yan shook his head.

“Originally we did want to invite the esteemed Qilan, but Puyang Yi is also hosting a banquet today, with a whole crowd of literary talents — Cao Guan, Liu Qingdi, all of them attending. That’s the Puyang family’s face on the line, so Qilan has to be there to preside over it. In the end I managed to get Luo Miaomiao…”

At the same time, Su Chonghua, who’d spent the whole afternoon out and about, was also riding his carriage home. Ning Yi had bid farewell to Yun Zhu and was likewise walking home through the streets. The Su family members still out and about were also gathering back toward home.

…

The carriage rolled through the streets and alleys. Su Tan’er sat inside the compartment, eyes closed, thinking through many things. Then she took out a sheet of paper and wrote three names on it. When she lifted the curtain, Guard Geng was sitting on the driver’s seat outside, and he turned his head back toward her.

Su Tan’er handed him the slip of paper, her gaze cold. “Do it as planned. Be careful — don’t let the Wu family get one over on us in the end.”

Guard Geng nodded, tucked the paper into his robes, jumped down from the carriage, and ran off in another direction.

Sunlight spilled in through the lifted curtain, but it carried no warmth.

Not long after, in a certain meeting room, Guard Geng showed the three names to another person, then burned the slip of paper.

In front of a certain Su family shop, Xi Junyu sat basking in the sun, eyes closed, mulling over all the arrangements made along the way. After a while, he let out a sigh, but smiled too, and rose to head toward the Su residence.

“Time to eat soon, everyone get ready.” In Su Yu’s courtyard, in the reception room, the old man at the head of the table finally opened his eyes and spoke with a smile. Then everyone began to rise, filing out amid a scatter of small talk.

Su Boyong, still pale-faced, sat in his wooden wheelchair as his wife and concubine pushed him out through the door. In the courtyard outside, many stewards loyal to the main branch, including Su Yunsong and Su Danhong, were already waiting for him. He smiled and waved, though his face remained weak. “Let’s go, let’s go — we’ve got a busy night ahead…”

Su Zhongkan, Su Yunfang, Xi Anzhi, Yu Daxian, Su Wenxing, Su Wengui, Su Wenji… dozens, even hundreds of people, an entire web of tangled interests, beginning to draw tight.

The entrance to the Su residence was bustling too. Su Tan’er stepped down from her carriage, and then spotted her husband nearby, just finishing exchanging greetings with a Su family relative. She smiled and walked over.

“Husband, let’s go in.”