Yu Hezhong’s manner was full of mystery, but from the look of his smile, it didn’t seem like he’d stumbled onto anything disreputable — there was a note of pride and showing-off in that smile, the sort that suggested something genuinely interesting lay behind it. Ning Yi guessed that Jin’er had probably already dragged Yun Zhu off toward Chen Luoyuan’s estate by now; if he happened to see something amusing along the way, it would give them something to talk about later. And so he followed Yu Hezhong toward the other side of the woods.

Along the way, Yu Hezhong chatted cheerfully about the gathering.

“You’ve probably already heard about today’s gathering, little Ning — officially it’s in answer to Chen Luoyuan’s invitation, but really, most people are more interested in seeing that young lady down from the capital. Ha, I saw quite a few pleasure boats arriving just now down by the river. Oh, right — are there any courtesans of note here in Jiangning that you’re familiar with, little Ning?”

“Not especially, no.”

“Ha, I’ve heard people talking about it these past few days — apparently there’s a girl named Qilan who’s well versed in poetry, quite the scholarly air about her, plays the zither beautifully, and there’s another, Luo Miaomiao, whose dancing is said to be like a heavenly maiden scattering blossoms… They’re all bound to turn up today, I’d think — we should get to see a few fine performances.”

Even as he said this, there was a note of mockery in his eyes. Ning Yi smiled and nodded. “Mm, with so many people coming, if we miss this chance we’ll have to wait for the annual courtesan pageant to see anything like it again. They’ll do their performing, and we’ll just watch.”

“Is that all you’re here for, little Ning — the performances?”

“What else would I be here for?”

“Heh.” Yu Hezhong gave him an odd look, but then his expression shifted into one of understanding, and he shook his head. “Actually… quite a few of the people coming today are hoping to make a name for themselves through this literary gathering, stand out from the crowd. You’ve probably heard, little Ning — before that young lady from the capital arrived, someone was already using the news to stir things up, blow it out of proportion. Saying Miss Li was coming specifically to challenge Jiangning’s courtesans, and then a whole crowd of scholars got worked up, determined to write poems fine enough to put the girls of the capital to shame. Heh, it’s a shame — they’ve all been used, and don’t even realize it. If it hadn’t been hyped up like this, the gathering wasn’t even meant to happen originally on their side — this trip was probably meant to just be a quiet appearance.”

There was a good deal packed into Yu Hezhong’s words. Ning Yi thought it over. “Brother Yu… it sounds like you know Miss Li quite well?”

“Ha, you’ll find out soon enough. I’ll keep you in suspense a bit longer — it’s going to be a real surprise.”

What he’d just said was, in truth, practically an outright admission. The two of them walked on, Yu Hezhong still chattering away. “Cao Guan, that Liu Qingdi from earlier, and plenty of other well-known literary men here in Jiangning these days, or those without names yet who want one — write a few fine verses, catch some favor at this gathering, and it’ll surely be passed around and sung about by everyone afterward. Still, talented as they are, the men accompanying Miss Li this time — Zhou Bangyan, Tang Weiyan, and the rest — are exceptionally accomplished too. Put them head to head and it’s bound to be quite a show. If inspiration strikes you, little Ning, don’t hesitate to try your own hand at a line or two.”

Chen Luoyuan’s garden estate sat halfway up a hillside. As they talked, the two of them made their way steadily upward, and once they emerged from this stretch of woods, the view opened up before them. This appeared to be a side or rear gate of the estate, walled in, with servants standing guard at the entrance. Yu Hezhong went ahead and exchanged a few words, and sure enough, they were let in without any invitation needed.

They passed through a small courtyard planted with bamboo and arrived at a small inner courtyard. Yu Hezhong told him to wait there a moment, went in through the courtyard gate himself, and after a while came back out, brows slightly furrowed, as though he hadn’t found the person he was looking for.

He glanced about, a little at a loss — it was clear he wasn’t especially familiar with this particular garden either. After a moment he laughed, said a few words to Ning Yi, and headed off through a door to the left, telling Ning Yi not to wander off, lest he lose his way. Ning Yi sat down on a nearby stone bench. After a while he got up and walked around a little, and caught the sound of voices coming from the courtyard to the right.

“…Thinking too well of it… those people are all here just to make names for themselves. Talk all you like about being courteous and refined — if they really mean to press hard, are we supposed to just shrink back?”

“We’ll have to take it on either way.”

“But we don’t even know what tricks they’ve got planned. No use fretting over it in advance.”

“Singing, poetry — that’s all it’ll come down to, most likely. No need to worry about the musical side, Shishi’s got that covered. As for testing our writing, don’t tell me you doubt Brother Zhou’s and Brother Tang’s talents?”

“These girls of Jiangning have some impressive skills of their own too — Shishi might not necessarily win out against them. Don’t be too confident, Brother Xu.”

“Ha, when has Shishi ever not said that… They likely won’t push things too far. My guess is a couple of songs and these people will shut their mouths.”

“Hard to say. Whoever’s stirring things up behind the scenes is some profit-hungry merchant type — people like that have no sense of restraint. Who knows, maybe this Qilan girl challenges Shishi, then Luo Miaomiao challenges her too, and every stray cat and dog wants a turn schooling her as well — that really would wear a person out…”

“…Actually there’s not that much to worry about. The poetry of people like Cao Guan, Liu Qingdi, Qi Yukang — it’s nothing special, really. I ran into Li Pin in Bianjing last year, and he’s not even in Jiangning anymore these days. Cao Guan’s writing is competent enough, has its moments, but still can’t hold a candle to Bangyan’s. Oh, and I hear they’ve also dug up this Ning Liheng fellow — not sure if it’s really true. He’s said to keep a low profile, but the poems he’s written — the Prelude to Water Music, the Green Jade Cup — every single one of them worthy of being passed down through the ages.”

“Why worry about him at all — a mere two or three poems, and people build him up into some kind of foremost talent of Jiangning. If you ask me, it’s more than a little exaggerated. His literary talent hasn’t even really been tested — who’s to say he’s not just some name-chaser.”

“Ha, from what I hear, this fellow keeps a low profile, doesn’t much care for these poetry gatherings. There’ve been plenty who called him a name-chaser in the past too, but after a few coincidences, not many people doubt him anymore.”

“If he’s not especially keen on this kind of thing, then why is he coming this time…”

“Who knows. Anyway, whatever tricks they play, we’ll just take them as they come — when have we ever been afraid of that sort of thing? Still, no sense letting them keep the upper hand the whole time either. I’ve got a few topics of my own prepared — might as well use them to scare off some of the ignorant ones first, save ourselves the trouble of every stray cat and dog trying to make trouble too…”

The voices carried on for a while over there, then gradually seemed to draw closer. Hearing himself brought up, Ning Yi found it rather amusing; he knew his actual literary skill couldn’t measure up to these men, but he wasn’t bothered by whatever they had to say about him. He listened for a while longer, until a voice rang out from behind him.

“Who are you? Outsiders aren’t allowed in here.”

The one who’d appeared behind him was a petite girl dressed as a maidservant, brows knitted in an attempt to look fierce. Ning Yi looked her over a couple of times. “Someone brought me in.”

“If you’re not someone Miss said in advance was allowed, then you can’t come in. If you have an invitation, sir, you’ve taken a wrong turn — please let Chunmei show you back to the front.”

The maid’s manner was firm, and she was already prepared to lead Ning Yi away. Before Ning Yi could even produce his invitation, someone came hurrying out from the courtyard on the other side, stepping through the gate and glancing this way. “Who’s eavesdropping here?” Naturally, it was one of the men who’d been part of the discussion just now.

“Master Tang, this gentleman must have taken a wrong turn — Chunmei was just about to take him back to the front.”

The man surnamed Tang frowned. “Does he have an invitation? He hasn’t climbed over the wall to sneak in, has he…” He evidently suspected Ning Yi of having overheard their earlier discussion of difficulties and plans, and so his manner turned somewhat unfriendly.

Ning Yi pursed his lips, thinking to himself that Yu Hezhong, gone this long already, was proving rather unreliable. He was just reaching to produce his invitation when several more figures appeared at the courtyard gate, one voice among them — a woman’s — calling out, “Ah, wait — little Ning, brother, you’re here too?… Chunmei, this is a guest I invited.”

The figures emerging from the courtyard, along with the man surnamed Tang, numbered five in all. Four men and one woman. The woman wore a bright, lovely spring outfit, a robe of pale blue-green, her figure light and graceful, her long hair let down from behind and gathered up with two white hairbands, adorned with a pair of white flowers. The look struck just the right balance — not the least bit vulgar, yet not overly aloof either, an air of elegance amid simplicity, plainly the result of some careful thought. She was the same Miss Wang he’d met that day with Yu Hezhong. With her bangs let down, her forehead no longer looked as broad, and her chin seemed just the right size, lending her a certain charm — combined with the memory of her in male dress that day, Ning Yi found himself, in fact, rather struck by the sight of her.

This young woman was speaking up on Ning Yi’s behalf; her other identity, naturally, was none other than the very person everyone had gathered here today hoping to see — the capital’s foremost beauty, Li Shishi.

From Yu Hezhong’s earlier air of mystery, Ning Yi had more or less guessed as much, but having it confirmed now still struck him as quite the coincidence. In his previous life, having weathered so much, Ning Yi rarely found himself struck by anyone’s appearance — most of what impression he had came from the contrast with the boyish look she’d had that day in male dress. Of course, her looks were undeniably outstanding, but what struck one more than her appearance was that particular blend of elegance and approachability, that sense of restraint and boldness in perfect harmony.

Presumably out of consideration for the fact that Ning Yi might genuinely have come in without an invitation, the young woman had immediately stopped anyone from demanding it, establishing the legitimacy of his presence. She stood there now, smiling with evident delight — anyone watching would have taken it for genuine, heartfelt joy at his arrival. The maid who’d been about to escort Ning Yi away pursed her lips, gave a small, sheepish “oh,” and stepped aside. Ahead, the man surnamed Tang laughed and cupped his hands in apology.

“So he’s someone Shishi knows. Terribly sorry about the mix-up just now.”

“No harm done.” Ning Yi nodded, then looked over at Li Shishi, who was walking toward him with a bright smile. “I ran into Brother Yu outside just now — he brought me in, then wandered off somewhere, not sure where.” Though she hadn’t asked, he figured she was surely curious, and felt it worth explaining.

“So Brother Yu came too? Chunmei, have you seen Brother Yu?”

“He’s over with Madam Li,” the maid answered quietly.

“Ah. Go bring him over to us later, would you?”

“Yes, Miss.”

This brief exchange struck Ning Yi as a little odd — the maid called Chunmei seemed to look somewhat guilty under Shishi’s questioning. He could tell something was off, though naturally he couldn’t guess what. In fact, when Yu Hezhong had gone earlier to find Li Shishi, he naturally hadn’t found her — instead he’d run into Madam Li.

Madam Li had never been particularly fond of Yu Hezhong — not because he couldn’t afford the price of visiting the establishment, his family was fairly well-off — but compared to the others who kept company with Li Shishi, he fell far short, and yet Shishi, out of old acquaintance, extended him all sorts of favors, which never sat quite right. Hearing that he’d brought along yet another “old friend,” that simply wouldn’t do. Madam Li hadn’t openly turned him away, but had held him back in conversation while quietly instructing the maid Chunmei to get this newcomer out of there as quickly as possible — hence Chunmei’s flustered state.

Ning Yi had no idea of the reason behind it, but the reactions of the others around had registered with him nonetheless. Once he’d said Yu Hezhong’s name, the expressions of the four scholars shifted from solemn to visibly unenthusiastic — clearly their opinion of Yu Hezhong wasn’t a favorable one.

These thoughts passed through his mind quickly. Shishi, meanwhile, had already instructed her maid to bring out some pastries and fruit, then turned to look deeply at Ning Yi, giving a slight bow. “That day, I couldn’t reveal who I was — little Ning, brother, you’re not upset with me, are you?” Her tone remained as warm and familiar as ever, like a girl from next door.

There was naturally nothing to be upset about. Ning Yi smiled. “I was rather startled, though.”

“Heh.” Shishi lowered her head with a laugh, then turned back. “Oh, come sit with us, little Ning — let me introduce you…”

As she spoke, one of the men in the group looked at Li Shishi’s expression and waved a hand toward them. “Since he’s a friend of Shishi’s, he’s a friend of ours too — why don’t you join us, and we can all discuss today’s strategy together, that’s the real business at hand.”

The group headed over toward the other courtyard, the four men walking ahead, still deep in discussion, heads bowed, about how to handle today’s various challenges. Shishi accompanied Ning Yi, walking a little behind, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Meeting like this — isn’t it all a bit abrupt? I was startled myself, honestly. Brother Yu really ought to have given some warning first.” She laughed again. “As for what they’re saying about strategy, it’s rather exaggerated — none of it really has anything to do with me. If you feel like it later, little Ning, feel free to show off a bit yourself — no need to worry about me on that front.”

She still took him for the same bookish boy from years ago, someone unlikely to make much of a mark at a gathering of top-tier scholars like this, and didn’t want him to feel any pressure. Of course, if he happened to produce a poem later, she’d naturally have to offer a few words of praise regardless.

Her words carried just far enough that the man surnamed Tang, walking slightly behind, caught them. He turned with a laugh. “Ah, Shishi, that’s where you’re wrong — this isn’t us exaggerating. This gathering today, your reputation as the capital’s foremost beauty is at real risk, and the face of us capital scholars is on the line as well — strategy is very much called for. This gentleman looks to be a local — he’ll know far better than we do. You can’t fool him, Shishi.”

The courtyard here was a pavilion set halfway up the hillside, with a fine view and open scenery. As they talked, the three men ahead had already entered the pavilion and taken their seats around the round table, nodding and laughing as they picked up the conversation. One of them said, “That’s right, that’s right. The gathering itself may be a small matter, but face is a big one. Even if that Cao Guan crowd comes at us in waves, we can’t afford to lose this round.”

“The wind howls, the river’s cold…”

“In any case, today we go up against the assembled talent of Jiangning — this will surely be a fine tale for the literary world in days to come.”

“Even if this so-called fiercest of them all, Ning Liheng, shows up, so what — I’ll take him on myself.”

The men laughed and joked among themselves, though there was a certain magnanimous, scholarly bearing to it all. As they talked, Ning Yi and Shishi had already taken their seats too. The man surnamed Tang, who’d first spoken to Ning Yi, judged that the joking had by now dispelled any awkwardness, and cupped his hands. “Ah, forgive me, we haven’t been introduced yet. This humble one is Tang Weiyan.”

Ning Yi nodded. Another of the men cupped his hands. “Xu Dongmo.”

“This one is Fang Wenyang.”

“And I am Zhou Bangyan — and this young gentleman is…?”

The oldest and most famous among them was, of course, Zhou Bangyan. Having introduced himself, he posed the question, and beside him Shishi said, “This is…”

Ning Yi cupped his hands in turn. “Ning Liheng.”

“Ha, so it’s Brother Ning… let us first—”

The atmosphere had been warm and pleasant, everyone smiling, with Tang Weiyan the first to pick the conversation back up — but at this point he paused, faltering slightly, and the others sensed something amiss as well. A few seconds later, every face in the group had taken on a rather strange expression, glances darting between one another. Ning Yi nodded along too, meeting their looks with perfect naturalness. Beside him, the young woman named Shishi turned her gaze toward him as well, lips parting slightly, blinking once, then again.

After a moment, Ning Yi gave a helpless shrug. He’d known it would end up like this — but really, what else was there to do but introduce himself?