It was already afternoon by the time they walked along the market streets by the Qinhuai River, pedestrians thick in every direction, near and far. With spring having arrived and the snow melted, merchant travelers had begun once again passing through the city of Jiangning. Now and then, one could see distant travelers leading horses through the marketplace, or nearby escort caravans moving in grand procession, guarding carts and horses along their way—some setting out from the city itself, others passing through from neighboring towns, glad for a bit of respite as they made their way through Jiangning. Armed escort guards glanced this way and that through the streets, talking loudly among themselves, remarking to their companions on the city’s prosperity.
Once outside the city and truly out on the road, such lively scenes would become a rare sight indeed.
Shop after shop along the road flew banners and signs, and near the riverside, gaps between buildings often held stone steps leading down to the water, used for boarding boats or washing clothes. The snow had only recently melted, and the willows along the banks had not yet budded, though some birds had already returned, singing melodiously. Painted pleasure-boats drifted along the river’s blue-green waters, accompanied by the sound of music and song.
“Teacher, look—that scholar on the painted boat over there looks like Yuan Li. He came to visit Grandfather Consort a few days ago too.”
In such mild early-spring weather, there was little cause for tension in the air. Ning Yi, carrying the long bundle on his back, was walking along the riverside street with the young princess Zhou Pei; a little further behind them followed a stocky, unassuming middle-aged man—a bodyguard from the princely household, surnamed Song, given name Qian. He’d served as a guard in the princely household for quite some time, and barring any major incident, tended to blend into the background like a shadow, barely registering with anyone.
The academy was rather far from the Consort’s residence, but since there was nothing pressing to attend to, Ning Yi preferred to take a leisurely walk through the city. Little Zhou Pei had been weighed down by her own worries, but naturally couldn’t say so aloud. After walking alongside Ning Yi for a while, listening to her tutor point things out and share all sorts of knowledgeable and entertaining trivia, she found her mood lifting somewhat. Walking now along the riverside road, she spotted a young gentleman standing at the bow of a nearby painted boat and, recalling something she knew, brought it up with Ning Yi.
Ning Yi turned to look. The painted boat was quite lively, clearly hosting some kind of gathering. A young man in a blue robe stood at the bow, a folding fan in hand, a scholar’s headscarf fluttering in the wind—rather dashing in bearing. A woman in white also stepped out from the boat and stood beside him, chatting—likely one of the courtesans accompanying the gathering. She had a fine figure, though her face was too far away to make out clearly.
Ning Yi glanced over at Zhou Pei again, and saw her lightly holding up the hem of her long skirt to keep it from getting dirty as she walked, craning her neck with obvious interest to watch the painted boat—looking, just then, every bit the gossip-hungry, star-struck young girl, rather endearing in her own way.
“…That looks like it might be a boat from Mingyu Pavilion—I wonder if that’s Yin Xue or Hua Ping. Teacher, what do you think they’re talking about?”
Mingyu Pavilion had some renown in Jiangning, and Yin Xue and Hua Ping were its two star attractions. In this day and age, this sort of thing was hardly considered scandalous—so long as there was a talented scholar and a beautiful woman involved, it made for a charming tale once suitably embellished. Zhou Pei had grown up hearing such stories, and she found it all rather fascinating now. Ning Yi narrowed his eyes and took a look as well; the elegant boat, drifting along in the early-spring air, was indeed a pleasant sight to behold.
“Yuan Li—that name does sound familiar. He’s supposed to be quite impressive, isn’t he?”
Zhou Pei had been about to nod and agree that he was impressive, but then pressed her lips together and glanced sideways at her tutor instead. That man did have some reputation—being able to accompany others in visiting Kang Xian and hold his own in conversation was proof enough of that—but in present-day Jiangning, when set beside the five characters “Ning Yi Ning Liheng,” it inevitably seemed a bit weak by comparison. Looking at her tutor with the long bundle strapped to his back, smiling and asking his question without the slightest hint of pretense, she felt a bit helpless, and her interest in the romantic tale of the scholar and the beauty faded somewhat. She only gave a noncommittal murmur in response.
“He’s alright, I suppose. A few days ago he was debating people at Grandfather Consort’s house, talking about matters up north—quite passionately, actually. Didn’t you sign that petition too, Teacher, the other day? He was one of the most enthusiastic ones pushing for it, apparently. These past few days he’s been going around discussing it with people—he’s probably doing the same thing right now… It’s just a shame the Jin and Liao have made peace. Who knows how many more years it’ll be before war breaks out again—otherwise, I heard he meant to follow in Ban Chao’s footsteps and set aside his writing brush to take up arms…”
“It won’t take that many years, probably…”
Ning Yi smiled and nodded. He continued walking forward with Zhou Pei and Song Qian, the painted boat drifting slowly along as well, music and dancing continuing aboard it, with a scholar’s voice occasionally rising in recitation of poetry, blending the leisure of the Qinhuai River with the bustling clamor of the surrounding streets. Zhou Pei trotted along beside him in small steps. “So Teacher also thinks it won’t take that many years? A few days ago, when I went with Grandfather Consort to see Grandfather Qin, they guessed the same thing…”
The girl frowned, then seemed to remember something and said mysteriously, “Teacher, do you know about Grandfather Qin’s past?”
“What about it?”
“Um… that whole business with the Black Water Alliance. In past years I only knew Grandfather Qin was extremely learned, and that he and Grandfather Consort were close friends—I had no idea what he’d actually done. It’s only recently that people have started talking about it.” Zhou Pei thought for a moment. “Something about the Black Water Alliance, about losing a battle… Grandfather Qin used to live here quietly, hardly anyone ever visited him, and no one talked about him much either. Lately more people have been coming to visit, and more people are talking about him too. But I’ve overheard some people saying bad things about him too—saying he did a lot of things just to build himself a false reputation, and some even worse things, saying he… saying Grandfather Qin was a traitor to the nation…”
The girl frowned. “I asked Grandfather Consort about it recently, but he wouldn’t say anything—just said something about how the final judgment on a man can only be made after his coffin is sealed, and that now isn’t the time to speak of it. I gather it has something to do with the Jin and the Liao, but every time Grandfather Consort visits Grandfather Qin, Grandfather Qin refuses to discuss any of it—he just talks about all sorts of unrelated things, as if he doesn’t care about any of it at all…”
“I’m not too clear on what happened those years ago myself…” Ning Yi thought for a moment, then shook his head. He had, of course, heard some of the rumors circulating in the marketplace lately, but they were vague and mysterious to the point of being hardly credible. All he knew was that seven years ago, this so-called Black Water Alliance had apparently involved Old Qin signing some chaotic, humiliating treaty that ceded away sovereign interests. Now that people were bringing it up again, some claimed the roots of the conflict between the Jin and the Liao had been planted back then, and the name “Qin Siyuan” had resurfaced because of it—though naturally, most people still didn’t believe any of it.
In the past, Old Qin and Kang Xian had loved discussing the state of the world together, but lately, it was true that they’d talked very little about matters in the north. Especially now that the Jin and Liao had suddenly reached a peace agreement, with Yelü Yanxi conferring the title of Great Sage Emperor upon Wanyan Aguda—news that had come as a splash of cold water to all those in the Wu Dynasty who’d been hoping for war between Jin and Liao. In theory, this retreat by Emperor Yelü Yanxi, whatever its true motives, meant a few more years of peace secured, and the once-imminent war would now be postponed once again. At times like this, whenever Ning Yi went to visit Old Qin, he found the old man had stopped discussing the matter altogether, seemingly indifferent to it entirely. Kang Xian, on the other hand, had been visiting Old Qin more frequently these days.
Ning Yi could sense a certain tension in the air, and naturally had his own guesses about it. But he wasn’t truly a party to any of it—even Kang Xian, who genuinely knew the details, had been holding his tongue on the matter lately. On something this serious, Ning Yi certainly wasn’t about to make any confident pronouncements to Zhou Pei. He only felt that people who accomplish great things are, in the end, a different breed—whether their legacy turned out to be one of betraying the nation or leading it astray, it was still a different matter entirely from the kind of talk that happened among painted boats and powdered faces, where young men casually mused about giving up their writing brushes for the sword.
He then went on to tell Zhou Pei a bit about the Jin and Liao situation—how Wanyan Aguda had single-handedly revived the Jurchen people from amid the wilds between the White Mountains and Black Waters, forging the legend that “the Jurchen, though fewer than ten thousand strong, are invincible once they number ten thousand,” even achieving the astonishing feat at Huburdagang of defeating seventy thousand troops with a mere twenty thousand—a truly monstrous, once-in-a-generation hero. Few people in the Wu Dynasty truly understood any of this, but over the past year, thanks to Ning Yi’s casual retellings, a group of students including Zhou Pei had come to both admire and fear this man. Fortunately, the Jurchen were few in number, and Wanyan Aguda himself was no longer young—the odds of him living to conquer Liao and then go on to threaten the Wu Dynasty as well remained fairly slim.
Zhou Pei loved discussing these things, occasionally offering her own guesses and asking, “Right? Right?” Talking about all this helped ease the gloom that had been weighing on her earlier. Having only managed a small meat wrap for lunch out of frustration, and now having walked quite a long distance, she found herself growing hungry. They happened to be nearing Jin’er’s Shop, the newly opened Bamboo Records branch, so the girl subtly angled the conversation, suggesting they stop to rest and get something to eat, and take the chance to see the new shop as well—Ning Yi had taken the two siblings to the main Bamboo Records shop for meals a few times before.
The two of them headed that way, and just as they neared the shop entrance, they ran into two men coming from the other direction. One appeared to be around fifty, tall and thin, dressed in scholar’s attire, though he carried about him an air of long-accustomed privilege and authority. His expression was stern, his gaze proud and aloof. Ning Yi had met this man once before—he was a well-known Confucian scholar in Jiangning named Zhang Rui, courtesy name Hongyuan, who also served as one of the tutors at the Prince Kang household, said to be held in considerable regard there.
The other man appeared to be around thirty, somewhat plump, with narrowed eyes and an equally solemn expression, also dressed as a scholar, carrying a fan. Ning Yi didn’t recognize this one. Zhang Rui recognized Ning Yi, and after a brief exchange between the two men, they came over. Zhou Pei went to greet them first, bowing politely. “Tutor Zhang, Tutor Li.”
The two men hastily returned the courtesy. “The Princess is here as well—we’re honored, truly honored.”
Only then did they turn to greet Ning Yi, with introductions exchanged. Both men, it turned out, served as tutors at the Prince Kang household and held considerable literary reputation within Jiangning. The plump one, surnamed Li, given name Tong, looked Ning Yi over with narrowed eyes. “So you’re the famous Ning Yi, Ning Liheng. I’ve long admired your reputation, though we’ve never had the chance to meet—what a fortunate coincidence today.”
Zhang Rui, meanwhile, looked between Ning Yi and Zhou Pei with some displeasure. “Liheng, bringing the Princess, of such noble standing, wandering about a place like this among the common crowds—doesn’t that seem somewhat… improper?”
Had this been an ordinary chance encounter, a bit of small talk might have sufficed before they went their separate ways. But after a few more exchanges, Zhang and Li began steering the conversation, one after another, toward the idea of “seeking instruction” and “discussing the Way together,” bringing up Ning Yi’s teaching methods and suggesting it was rather inappropriate for him to be wandering around the marketplace with the young princess in tow.
There was, in fact, some history behind all this. When Xiao Pei and Junwu had formally taken Ning Yi as their tutor at the end of the previous year, the original plan had been to make a grand occasion of it, with Prince Kang himself personally visiting the Su household to lend it weight and prestige. Ning Yi had declined this, however, and the apprenticeship ceremony ended up being handled quietly, with Kang Xian mediating and everything kept simple. But as tutors within the Prince Kang household, these men were well aware that the young prince and princess had gained an additional tutor.
The princely household employed a great many retainers, and among the tutors, quite a few held considerable literary reputation and respectable standing—though their main duty was instructing the children of the various servants and staff within the household. Even those among them who held some nominal teacher-student relationship with the young prince and princess were, in the end, in a fundamentally different position from a tutor specifically and deliberately sought out by the family itself.
Ning Yi, barely in his twenties, already carried the title of Jiangning’s foremost talent—it was inevitable that this would breed some envy. When these tutors first learned of his appointment, they’d made rather grand preparations, arranging to hold a poetry gathering at some pleasure house and sending Ning Yi an invitation, confident that their combined standing would surely be enough—after all, they were all part of the same princely household, and Ning Yi surely couldn’t refuse to give them that much face.
Little did they know, Ning Yi hadn’t even bothered accepting the honorary title of princely household guest-scholar that Kang Xian had arranged for him—he had no obligation to actually work at the princely residence, and the others could hardly be considered his colleagues in any real sense. Besides, at the time, things between Ning Yi and Su Tan’er had been going particularly well—having married two years before finally consummating the marriage, their affection for each other was at its peak—and Su Tan’er had needed him to accompany her on various social calls. Following his usual habit, he’d tossed the invitation aside and sent back a mass-produced letter of polite refusal, a lengthy and elaborate piece of writing whose actual meaning boiled down to seven words: busy, can’t make it, sorry.
These men had specially spent nearly half a month reviewing books and preparing questions, only to have their anticipation come to nothing, leaving them thoroughly indignant. Today, when Zhang and Li happened to run into Ning Yi on the street, the one surnamed Li, who had initially felt somewhat apprehensive about the “foremost talent of Jiangning” title, saw that Ning Yi looked rather green and inexperienced—perhaps talented, remarkable even, but certainly not what one would call broadly learned and refined. On the spot, he and Zhang Rui decided to take the opportunity to test the man’s scholarship today, phrasing it, of course, as “seeking his guidance.”
“Seeking guidance” might have been too strong a claim, but simply sitting down together for a chat was hard to refuse. And so the group made their way toward the newly opened Jin’er’s Shop nearby, went up to the second floor, and found a private room to sit down in.