The carriage entered through the side gate of the Su residence, and happened to cross paths with the second uncle’s group, returning home a good seven-tenths drunk. They asked Su Tan’er a few questions about her evening — what she’d seen, whether the gathering had been enjoyable — and she answered with her usual composed manner.
At this point, plenty of poems were still circulating through the city, and though the Prelude to Water Melody was certainly a fine piece, there was no real chance yet of it causing a genuine sensation or being crowned the finest work of the night. Kang Xian’s rebuke at the Still Water gathering hadn’t spread yet, and to the ordinary eye, the very best poems all tended to look more or less alike — the ci was clearly good, but set against men like Cao Guan and Li Pin, it might seem merely comparable, or perhaps even a touch inferior, simply on the strength of those men’s existing reputations. Only those with genuinely deep learning could clearly perceive the piece’s lasting, understated depth, and sense the true distance between it and the rest.
Su Zhongkan had spent the night purely on business talks and idle carousing, with little interest in poetry, so word of Ning Liheng hadn’t reached his ears at all. Uncle and niece exchanged a few pleasantries before parting ways on the path, and Su Tan’er and her three maids made their way back to their courtyard. Only the large lantern outside the courtyard gate still burned; inside, everything was quiet, with only the moon’s clear light spilling down from above.
Su Tan’er glanced a few times at the dark second-floor room across the way. Xiao Chan asked, “My lady, shall I go wake the young master…”
“No need. He’s already asleep — no sense disturbing him. Chan’er, bring up some warm water. Xing’er, Juan’er, go on to bed early… Chan’er, if you’re not too tired, would you tell us again the story the young master told you?”
Chan’er nodded with a smile, and Juan’er and Xing’er both raised their hands eagerly.
“My lady, my lady, we’re not sleepy at all!”
“We want to hear it too!”
She gave the two girls a mock-stern look, then laughed. “Well then, come along, all of you. Come to think of it, it’s been quite a while since we’ve had a story told to us.”
“I remember when my lady used to hold a book and tell us stories when we were little…”
“That’s right, that’s right, I remember too…”
The girls chattered away happily, and Su Tan’er went upstairs while Juan’er and Xing’er helped Chan’er heat some water, carrying up a wooden basin and towels together.
The city’s distant lights gradually quieted further. In the tranquil little courtyard, a warm golden glow flickered in the upstairs window, casting the silhouettes of mistress and maids talking and laughing softly within.
Some time later, deeper into the night now, the three maids finally emerged from the room and closed the door behind them before heading downstairs. Back in her own room, Chan’er shut the door and leaned lightly against it, hands clasped over her chest, tilting her head back to draw a deep breath, her innocent young face carrying a complicated mix of expressions — joy, confusion, fear, longing, all at once.
Su Tan’er had taught her a great deal over the years, and so it was only natural that Chan’er wasn’t entirely without thoughts of her own — small ones, always centered on the people and things she cared about: her mistress, the Su family, and now, it seemed, Ning Liheng as well.
She’d once argued back at Old Qin by the chess stand for the Su family’s sake, and over the time she’d spent with Ning Yi since, she’d found him easygoing by nature, yet with a witty, humorous side as well — going about things, though he never really did anything of consequence, with an effortless, unbothered air, as if nothing weighed on him at all. He was kind to her besides, and naturally she’d grown fond of him.
As for her mistress, her feelings went beyond simple affection — there was gratitude too, a sense of owed debt, all wrapped together into something like deep, deep devotion. She understood the troubles her mistress had faced before, and had a fair sense of what she wanted deep down. Now that she’d discovered the young master wasn’t the bookish fool everyone had made him out to be, it was only natural she’d start thinking about the marriage between the two of them — if they came to genuinely care for each other and grew close naturally, that would be wonderful indeed. There wasn’t much she needed to do herself — just let her mistress see and understand more of the young master, and let him understand her mistress’s good qualities in turn. That, after all, was part of what it meant to be a close personal maid.
She knew her mistress loved poetry, though whatever the young master had written before clearly hadn’t been anything worth showing off — she’d sometimes even suspected he wrote such nonsense on purpose, as a joke. Tonight, seeing him produce that Prelude to Water Melody, she might not have had refined literary judgment, but she could still sense the quality in it, and had felt as though she’d stumbled upon a hidden treasure. So she’d taken the verse straight to the Pu Garden gathering, intending to find some moment to show it to her mistress. Then, seeing Xue Jin approach and sensing what was likely about to happen, she’d simply gone along with the moment and brought the ci out — whatever else, the poem was surely good enough not to embarrass anyone.
She simply hadn’t expected it to impress people to quite that degree.
Had she had any accurate sense of things beforehand, she never would have brought it out so recklessly. Looking back on it now, what she’d meant as a way to show off the young master’s talent to her mistress seemed to have backfired instead — even her mistress had seemed caught off guard, unprepared, back on the boat — which left Chan’er feeling rather guilty herself. She’d only meant to arrange a small surprise, and instead the surprise had turned out so large it had rattled even her…
Oh, how had it turned out like this…
The oil lamp flickered like a tiny bean of light, and Xiao Chan, not the least bit sleepy, sat by the table, chin in her hands, brooding. In front of her lay the original draft of the Prelude to Water Melody that Ning Yi had written out for her, and she read through it several more times.
Young master, honestly, it’s fine that you have talent — did it have to be quite this much? However am I going to explain all this to you tomorrow…
This is all your fault, really.
She pouted, poking gently at the paper with a finger a couple of times. Reading that last line again, her face slowly flushed red once more. She carefully folded the paper back up and tucked it away at the bottom of her drawer.
Blowing out the oil lamp, her face growing hotter and hotter, the little maid felt her way through the dark and climbed slowly into bed…
“Sharing this beauty of the moon, though a thousand miles apart… hehe…”
…
By morning, a white mist had settled over Jiangning once more, the bright morning sun just beginning to rise above the haze, sending forth a magnificent dawn glow.
Waking up, Ning Yi felt refreshed and clear-headed, his strength nearly fully recovered. One more day of rest to be safe, and tomorrow he could return to teaching. As for today — he could probably get some wooden training dummies and sandbags from the estate guards. This body had been frail for years; without a proper, thorough regimen of training, it simply wouldn’t do.
The steward in charge of the household guard seemed to be surnamed Zhang. Given the general goodwill he currently enjoyed from old Patriarch Su, that part wouldn’t be a problem — the real question was whether bringing dummies and sandbags into the courtyard would come as too much of a shock to Su Tan’er and the others. Jogging as a frail scholar was one thing, but suddenly announcing he wanted to practice martial arts would probably have them thinking he’d lost his mind.
He needed to let them get used to him being a bit different from what they expected — but that had to happen gradually. This might be moving a bit too fast, he thought idly, weighing the matter over. Then, sitting together over breakfast rice porridge with meat, he noticed Su Tan’er seemed to keep glancing at him, her expression somewhat odd.
After a few more glances back at her, Ning Yi finally set down his bowl and chopsticks, looking at his wife with some confusion. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” Su Tan’er smiled faintly and shook her head. “Just thinking you seem to be in very good spirits this morning, husband.”
“Ah, the illness should be more or less gone now. Cough — my throat still feels a bit dry, but I should be fine by tomorrow, and can head back to the academy.”
“Well, it’s good that you’re feeling better. Though these next few days, husband, you might well find yourself rather busy.”
“Busy?”
“Mm.” Su Tan’er nodded, offering no further explanation, taking small, ladylike sips of her porridge. Puzzled, Ning Yi thought the smile at the corner of her mouth looked oddly reminiscent of the Mona Lisa’s…
What could that possibly mean? Was the academy about to pile more work on him? Ning Yi turned the possible meanings of her words over in his mind, all the way through finishing his porridge and returning to his room, where Xiao Chan came in timidly and, after recounting everything that had happened the night before, he finally understood exactly what that look in his wife’s eyes had meant.
“S-sorry, young master, Chan’er only meant to… only meant to show my lady, but that Xue Jin was just so infuriating…”
Ning Yi listened to her account with an expression of blank astonishment, then, after a moment’s thought, settled back into calm — and finally broke into an amused laugh.
“Ah, it’s fine. It’s really not that big a problem.”
Seeing he wasn’t angry, Chan’er nodded happily. “That’s right, the young master’s talent—” A sharp flick landed on her forehead before she could finish.
“Who said I have talent? Don’t go saying that to people from now on.”
“…Oh.” The little maid hesitated, then nodded.
“Well, in that case, I’m not going out today.” Ning Yi thought it over, then laughed. “Looks like I’ll need to stay sick a few more days…”
Sunlight streamed in through the window as Ning Yi picked up a storybook and walked back to bed, settling in to fake his illness. A moment later, he waved Xiao Chan over, and she, her earlier unease finally set at ease, happily fetched the weiqi box and the little table used for gomoku from the corner of the room, trotting over cheerfully…
Since it had been Mid-Autumn the night before, many people had gone to bed late, and so most of the city rose a little later than usual this morning too — Jiangning didn’t fully return to its normal bustle until about an hour past its usual time. It wasn’t until past noon that word of what had happened at the Still Water gathering, mixed in with all the other talk of poetry from the night, finally began spreading widely through the city. In the days that followed, the influence of that Prelude to Water Melody would set off waves of continued discussion and reverberation throughout Jiangning — waves that, as time went on, would only keep growing.