Coming out of the woods, since it was already noon, everyone followed Chen Luoyuan to another courtyard at the foot of the mountain to dine. It was clear that Chen Luoyuan was also someone who loved fine scenery — as a personal estate, this mountain forest covered a vast area, and several of its scenic spots had already been developed. This particular courtyard sat on the other side of the mountain forest, tucked among the trees, bordering a secluded ravine to the west. It was just the season when the mountain flowers were in full bloom, and the surrounding scenery was lovely. Seeing it, Ning Yi couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy.

But there was nothing more to be said about it — the further civilization advanced, the more astonishing the pyramid structure of wealth became. The Chen family had deep foundations, but compared to Kang Xian, they were still nothing much. Seeing that Ning Yi liked the place, the old man didn’t think much of it: “Not many people live here, and the areas aren’t connected to each other, and it’s a bit remote — not very convenient. Land is cheap around here. If you like it, well, that forest over there seems to be mine too…”

“Which stretch?”

“Those two mountains, I think, though hardly anyone lives there. No one’s farming it, so the land’s no use. I don’t even know exactly which peaks — anyway, quite a lot. You like it? Why don’t I just give it to you?”

In this day and age, a true great landowner with connections in officialdom might hold tens of thousands of mu of land under his name, even hundreds of thousands — and that was just counting arable land capable of producing economic value. Exactly how much property lay under Kang Xian’s name, Ning Yi naturally had no idea; this sort of thing couldn’t be inquired about, couldn’t even be guessed at — possibly even the man himself wasn’t entirely sure.

The two exchanged a few more words, but Ning Yi of course had no need to take the man’s land. In truth, it had simply been a passing whim — the thought that it might be nice to build a beautiful summer retreat here. But on further reflection, this kind of business wasn’t exactly a guaranteed money-maker under current conditions. The reason was that places catering to people’s comfort and relaxation were everywhere in the city of Jiangning, and in this world there was no industrial pollution, no fast-paced lifestyle driving people to seek out places to escape to. If he really built such a thing, done properly it wouldn’t lose money, but it would basically amount to a lot of trouble for little gain. Ning Yi mulled it over and let the idea go.

Since it was the Cold Food Festival, the noon meal that everyone ate was carefully prepared by the Chen family, full of pastries and treats特 to the festival, and quite delicious. In the afternoon, once Chen Luoyuan brought out several prizes, the poetry and literary competition began in earnest, and the literary gathering took on a much more formal air. Ning Yi didn’t participate, merely watching from the side as the courtesans performed — the contest showed genuine skill, and it was a feast for both eyes and ears.

A group of talented young men showed off their literary flair, and no one paid him any mind. He and Yun Zhu were more than happy to enjoy the idle time off to the side. In truth, Ning Yi had originally prepared himself to compose a poem or two if necessary. Cao Guan was a man who guarded his reputation carefully and wasn’t one to provoke conflict easily — that was understandable. Liu Qingdi, though he seemed rather displeased with Ning Yi, lacked real fighting spirit, so whether he’d actually challenge him was uncertain; if he really tried to drag Ning Yi into it, Ning Yi wasn’t planning to give him a pleasant face in return. As for Zhou Bangyan’s side, Ning Yi had originally assumed that these capital scholars would use the pretext of a friendly exchange to draw him into competing, but somehow, he’d guessed wrong. Zhou Bangyan’s attitude was mild and amicable, and Li Shishi’s expression, whenever she faced him, seemed somewhat complicated, though she remained quiet.

In the end, Liu Qingdi never said a word to him, and none of the capital scholars said anything either, leaving him — fully prepared as he was — feeling rather bored instead. What he didn’t know was that Fang Wenyang and the others had originally been ready to spar with him in verse, but had been quietly suppressed by Li Shishi behind the scenes.

Had it been an ordinary literary gathering, that would have been the end of it. But this particular gathering had already been stirred up into a tense, blade-drawn atmosphere by people with their own agendas, such as Puyang Yi. Before the gathering, Li Shishi had felt there was no harm in a friendly contest, but after hearing those two-and-a-half song lyrics in the forest, her mood was hard to put into words — she simply felt that, however she measured it, she couldn’t win. Even if all that remained was the spirit of making friends through literature, under these circumstances, it was better not to compete at all if it could be avoided. Combined with Zhou Bangyan’s silence, that was how things ended up. Ning Yi was left off to the side, out in the cold, and afterward was on the receiving end of a good deal of nagging from Kang Xian and the others.

Aside from the literary contest between the Jiangning and capital factions, throughout the whole afternoon Jin’er didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. That morning Liu Qingdi had provoked her, but by now she seemed to have already forgotten about it. In the afternoon she stayed by Yun Zhu’s side, discussing other people’s poems and performances — and although she still spoke without much restraint, Ning Yi found that she seemed to have grown somewhat more composed and gentle.

In truth, while Ning Yi had been chatting with Yun Zhu in the woods, with Li Shishi and Zhou Bangyan nearby, Yuan Jin’er had also overheard everything from another spot. She’d been hiding in the grass at the time, and after crawling back out, could only admit to herself in her heart: “This guy really has a way with wooing girls. Looks like I’m going to lose.” She knew that Sister Yun Zhu must have been overjoyed at heart hearing those verses, and she hadn’t wanted to go out and disturb them — better to let them have their happy day. After all, Sister Yun Zhu’s happiness mattered most.

By the end of the day, Ning Yi had written one mediocre poem — no reputation gained from it, but his mood remained pleasant all the same. He’d originally only come along to accompany Yun Zhu on an outing to lift her spirits, and that goal had been achieved; everything else was as insubstantial as passing clouds. That evening, walking home beneath the setting sun, they were overtaken partway by Li Shishi’s carriage, and a few words were exchanged about meeting up again sometime.

Several more days passed, and until Li Shishi left Jiangning, the two of them never crossed paths again. In truth, what Li Shishi had said was sincere, but Ning Yi had taken it as mere pleasantry, and afterward, whenever he received invitations to literary gatherings or banquets, he simply treated them as routine and pretended not to notice. Li Shishi, naturally, couldn’t very well come looking for him at his home either. It wasn’t until after she’d left that he found himself still turning over in his mind just what the line following “old wings, how many times through cold and heat” had been.

The day before Qingming Festival, Su Tan’er accompanied Ning Yi back to the old family estate to spend the night, where they paid respects at the Ning ancestral graves. After that, the Su family grew busy with Qingming affairs, leaving Ning Yi with time on his hands. Once Qingming had passed, he met with the two Qin brothers a couple of times, even sparring once with that Xu Xiaohu — needless to say, he was thoroughly defeated. Afterward the two exchanged some knowledge of joint-lock techniques, which the other man found quite interesting, and they had a delightful conversation on the subject.

Xu Xiaohu also taught him the basic Eight Forms of Vajra from Baz Fist, and mentioned afterward that if it ever came to a real fight, there was no need to rely on Baz Fist or any other unfamiliar style — since Xu Xiaohu himself was well-versed in joint locks, that direct, practical form of combat, Ning Yi should just use whatever he knew best. Everything else could be learned as forms for their own sake; it didn’t matter. Start from what you’re most familiar with, and fight enough, and eventually you’ll know everything. This was similar to what Lu Hongti had said when she left. Still, Ning Yi thought to himself that he probably wouldn’t have many opportunities to actually “fight” — though he had also picked up some internal cultivation, in this lifetime he was probably never going to have any connection to being a top-tier martial expert.

Of course, this body was still only in its early twenties. As for what the future held, who could really say?

After Qingming, Li Shishi and the group of capital scholars departed, and Qin Shaohe and Qin Shaoqian likewise left Jiangning one after another. Life returned to its old rhythm — lecturing during the day, reading novels, running experiments, chatting with Yun Zhu, teasing Yuan Jin’er a little, playing gomoku with Xiao Chan, or listening to Su Tan’er talk about matters in the cloth shop and swap little bits of household gossip, occasionally bragging to his two disciples Zhou Pei and Zhou Junwu about the prospects of science… And so three months passed, and summer arrived — generally the most pleasant stretch of weather each year, mild temperatures, neither too cold nor too hot, and Jiangning too lay in a state of peace and harmony. Every time he walked down the street, he couldn’t help but feel that everyone around him had found their own contentment and happiness.

He’d originally expected to set out in the fourth month, but Su Tan’er had only just taken charge of the main household, and it wasn’t easy for her to hand off most of her responsibilities to her father right away, so the trip ended up delayed for a while. Ning Yi was able to stay longer, which pleased Yun Zhu as well — she now got along very well with the Qin family, and the two of them occasionally ran into each other at the Qin residence.

Thinking back, Ning Yi realized it had been almost exactly two years since he’d arrived in this world. Some of the marks left on him by his former life hadn’t yet faded, but these past two years had truly been the most leisurely of his life. It was around this same time two years ago that Old Qin used to set up his chess stall by the Qinhuai River, and Ning Yi had often gone to watch. The little tea stall by the river was still there, though the chess stall could no longer be set up — Old Qin was now being watched by certain people, which couldn’t help but stir a sense that a storm was brewing, that something was about to happen.

As for the matter concerning Old Qin, it was probably at the end of last year that people had paid it the closest attention. What had already been quiet for years suddenly saw a surge of visitors, on account of the rumors swirling between the Jin and Liao states. But around the turn of the year, word came that Jin and Liao were negotiating peace, and with the situation unclear, the number of people paying attention gradually dwindled again. It wasn’t that people had put the old man’s influence entirely out of mind — rather, everyone chose to watch quietly and wait for things to develop.

Jin and Liao probably wouldn’t be fighting again anytime soon, at least in the short term. That’s what quite a few people were thinking.

On these matters, the old man himself never spoke a word. Whenever Ning Yi visited, they only chatted and played chess, never touching on the larger situation — sometimes the old man would tease him about his relationship with Yun Zhu instead. This continued until one day at the end of the fourth month, when the weather was cool and pleasant. The two of them played a game of chess in the Qin family courtyard; Yun Zhu came along too, bringing wine and dishes from the Bamboo Registry, and sat chatting with Yun Niang in the back courtyard.

“Speaking of which, it won’t be long now before you head to Hangzhou, will it, Liheng?”

“Mm.”

“Setting out in the fifth month, that’ll be a bit hot.”

“We’ll go by boat — to Yangzhou first, then down to Suzhou and Hangzhou.”

“No risk of seasickness that way, that’s not bad.” The old man chuckled and set down a stone, “Speaking of which, by the time you get back to Jiangning, Liheng, I probably won’t be living here anymore. This house… will likely sit empty.”

Ning Yi was startled for a moment, then broke into a smile: “It was never meant to be a place to stay forever anyway. Old Qin’s residence in the capital should be better than here, shouldn’t it?”

“Ha-ha…” Perhaps struck by something in those words, the old man burst out laughing, and then, with a touch of wistfulness, said, “Man is not grass or wood — how could he be without feeling? Eight years… I’d honestly prepared myself to grow old and die in this place.”

“It’s still early for that.” Ning Yi smiled, picking up a chess piece and turning it over in his hand. After a moment, he looked up and asked, “War’s coming?”

The old man nodded.

“War’s coming.”

On that fourth-month afternoon, the sky was mild and the clouds gentle, a summer breeze drifting through the forests within and beyond the city, setting the leaves rustling — a sound like pages of a book being rapidly turned, though no one turning them could be seen. Amid the tranquil conversation, from the northern horizon, the faint, unmistakable scent of blood had already begun to drift in…