Early morning, rising from bed, a bit of exercise, running through a set of tai chi. As the cool breeze blew across the deck, the banks of the canal traced out a beautiful silhouette in the morning light—blue-green clouds in the sky, a white-yellow dawn glow. Along both sides of the waterway, the villages gradually stirred with the crowing of roosters and the barking of dogs. Farmwives carrying wooden buckets drew water from the bluestone slabs by the river, glancing up at the boats passing on the water—a sight so familiar it warranted no more than a glance before they turned and went back inside.

Lights had already come on aboard the pleasure boat, and its occupants were rising one by one. Xiao Chan walked past carrying a washbasin, thinking that the son-in-law, dressed all in white, looked truly graceful practicing his boxing—though of course, others might see it differently.

“Is the Su family’s son-in-law practicing boxing?”

Cupping his hands in greeting, Lin Tingzhi, the talented scholar from Hangzhou traveling with Lou Shuwan, walked over from one side. Dressed in a scholar’s robe with a silk headband, he looked handsome and refined in the morning sun. Ning Yi glanced at him and smiled: “Just some flashy moves to stay fit and strong.” He shifted from the posture of Needle at Sea Bottom into Flash the Arms Through.

Lin Tingzhi smiled as well, and seeing that Ning Yi was absorbed in his boxing, said nothing more. As he turned, he saw Lou Shuwan looking down from behind a window on the second floor of the pleasure boat—she had apparently just woken, lightly powdered, her head tilted as she pinned a pearl flower hairpin into her coiled-up hair. Lin Tingzhi gave her a knowing smile; her face showed no answering smile, only a slight softening of expression, and then she disappeared from the window’s view again.

Knowing her temperament, Lin Tingzhi did not find this dull. He unfolded his fan and gave it a wave, glanced back at Ning Yi still practicing his boxing, and walked toward the cabin. Just then the lovely Juan’er came out, and he again smiled and cupped his hands in greeting; Juan’er bowed slightly in return, then went off with a composed expression to attend to her own business.

“It seems my brother-in-law is practicing boxing down there.”

In the second-floor room, Lou Shuwan bent before the dressing table, arranging her hair, speaking with Su Tan’er, who had just risen from the bed. Su Tan’er glanced at the window and smiled: “That’s just something he likes to do.”

The pleasure boat had set out from the Changzhou docks yesterday morning. Sailing against the wind, its progress had been somewhat slow, but by yesterday it had already passed Wuxi, and in the small hours of this morning it had passed Suzhou; it was now on the waterway between Suzhou and Jiaxing. According to Ning Yi and Su Tan’er’s original plan, they were meant to stop over in Wuxi or Suzhou and then spend a few days touring Lake Tai, but that itinerary had naturally been changed now, mainly for the sake of delivering some goods on Lou Shuwan’s behalf.

Su Tan’er and Lou Shuwan had not originally been especially close—they had simply known each other as girls, and since both had strong-willed, capable personalities, the impression they’d left on each other had been fairly deep. Now, meeting an old acquaintance far from home, something like sisterly affection had sprung up between them. These past two days, the two of them had largely set the others aside to talk together; naturally they had shared a room at night as well, chatting about this and that, holding nothing back.

In truth, once aboard this boat, Su Tan’er was really the only person Lou Shuwan had to talk to. The two women’s circumstances were similar, and since Ning Yi was a man who had married into his wife’s family, Lou Shuwan naturally could not think too highly of him; with outsiders present, she also could not show much warmth toward Lin Tingzhi. As for Ning Yi, by now she had roughly grasped the situation—a scholar, married in, with no official rank. Though Su Tan’er had mentioned he had no intention of pursuing the imperial examinations, Lou Shuwan of course read between the lines: what scholar wouldn’t want to sit for the examinations, unless his talent simply wasn’t up to it, and combined with his status as a man married into the family, that road was closed to him anyway.

Lou Shuwan herself was already married, and when she mentioned this to Su Tan’er, Su Tan’er learned that her husband, too, had married into her family, and that his scholarly talent was actually rather good—but even so, from the way she spoke of it, the impression given was much the same as with Ning Yi. Lou Shuwan occasionally mentioned her own husband, and though what she said was complimentary, Su Tan’er could tell she didn’t entirely think much of him either—clearly treating Su Tan’er as a sister who shared the same fate, occasionally sighing as if to say “we’re the same, you understand,” before letting the matter drop.

In truth, just as it had been for Su Tan’er, choosing a man to marry into the family had been a solution born of no other option—men willing to become a matrilocal son-in-law were, without exception, of a certain sort, and by the standards of the age, this was seen as somewhat lacking in dignity. Lou Shuwan certainly understood this, but after marrying, she naturally could not help but imagine how wonderful it would be if her husband were the most outstanding of men.

Moreover, her husband spent his days devoted to literary gatherings and poetry salons, while Ning Yi aboard the boat—or at least the impression he gave to everyone aboard—was simply easygoing, fond of telling tales of wandering knights and immortals, fond of practicing boxing and martial arts, seeming, if anything, even less ambitious. Lou Shuwan said she understood Su Tan’er’s private difficulties and did not press the matter further. Jiangning and Hangzhou were, after all, a thousand li apart; Lou Shuwan was not especially devoted to poetry and prose herself, and did not know of Ning Yi’s reputation. Su Tan’er, for her part, could hardly go on about how impressive her husband was, lest it seem like boasting—especially since what she wanted from Lou Shuwan was more information about the Hangzhou area, so she did not press the matter either.

When the subject of Ning Yi’s boxing came up, Su Tan’er laughed, genuinely delighted, without a trace of awkwardness. Lou Shuwan supposed this was mostly a brave face. After all, if her own husband back home had taken up boxing as a hobby, she too would have had no choice but to force a smile. Still, she did not point this out.

Afterward, once up, Su Tan’er first went to look in on Ning Yi’s room, then went down to have breakfast with everyone else, sitting beside Ning Yi and chatting idly about this and that. After breakfast, Lou Shuwan pulled Su Tan’er off to sit in the sun at the bow of the boat. Partway there, Lou Shuwan stopped to discuss something with one of the household stewards, so Su Tan’er pulled Xiao Chan aside to say something to her; Xiao Chan blushed and shook her head in reply, then went off to attend to her own duties.

A moment later, before Lou Shuwan returned, someone approached from behind. Su Tan’er felt a sudden warmth against her body—the person embraced her, bending down with a smile on his face. It was Ning Yi.

“Petty,” he said.

Su Tan’er smiled warmly too. “I am not.”

“You are.”

The two of them teased each other like this because Xiao Chan had slept in Ning Yi’s room the night before.

These past two days, with Su Tan’er and Lou Shuwan spending their time together, when Lou Shuwan had gone off yesterday evening, Ning Yi had chatted and joked with his wife, making a jest about how he was about to be left to “guard an empty chamber alone.” Su Tan’er knew he didn’t really mind, but that night, she had called Xiao Chan over and pushed her into Ning Yi’s room, saying with a laugh, “Go sleep with my husband, Xiao Chan. I don’t mind.”

Though that was what she’d said, in truth, when she passed by Ning Yi’s room afterward, she couldn’t help but stop and listen at the door more than once. This morning she had also gone to check the state of his bedding, and only after breakfast, when she called Xiao Chan over and asked her about it in a roundabout way, did she learn that although Ning Yi and Xiao Chan had slept together the night before, they had only held each other and talked—nothing more had happened.

Giving Xiao Chan to Ning Yi as a concubine had long since been decided; it was bound to happen sooner or later. Su Tan’er had long since prepared herself for it mentally, but hearing this morning that it hadn’t gone further, she still felt an inexplicable warmth in her heart. Now, with Ning Yi’s arms around her—though someone might see them—she only felt warmer still.

“Pettiness is one of the seven grounds for divorce, you know. Could it be that your concubine has done something wrong, and my husband wishes to cast me aside?”

For a man who had married into his wife’s family, seeking a divorce was next to impossible; it was only that as their affection had deepened, Su Tan’er had grown fond of putting on this kind of playful, coquettish act in front of him. Of course, jokes about their respective statuses were not to be made too often, and Ning Yi did not rise to the bait, simply laughing for a while.

“It’s not good for Xiao Chan, being left like this. I told her as much last night—once we’ve settled down a bit in Hangzhou, I’ll formally marry her properly. By then… well, it’s been some time already. It’s only natural that it weighs on you a little; if anything, I feel I owe her something.”

Su Tan’er took his hand, shook her head, and after a moment of silence, laughed again. “My husband is worse than a beast.”

The story of “beast” and “worse than a beast” was a joke Ning Yi had made once before; now Su Tan’er used it to tease him. Ning Yi gave a “tch” and let her go, then reached out and rumpled her hair, walking off looking somewhat put out. Su Tan’er covered her now-mussed bangs with both hands, only laughing.

This was merely a small episode along the journey. After this, the pleasure boat continued south as planned, meant to arrive in Hangzhou by the following morning—except that what happened next led the group to spend a night in Jiaxing instead.

That, too, was only a minor episode.

…

Evening, near the West Post Pavilion in Jiaxing.

Ancient trees stood lush and green, willows drooped low, and on the canal’s waterway, a splendid pleasure boat drifted slowly along. As the golden light of sunset scattered down, faint strains of music and song drifted out from within.

Since ancient times, the region south of the Yangtze had been crisscrossed with waterways, and Jiaxing too was a city that had grown up along the water. Its South Lake, together with West Lake in Hangzhou and East Lake in Shaoxing, was known as one of the three great lakes under heaven. Living as it did by the water, the area naturally had no shortage of pleasure boats belonging to its brothels, and this was one such boat from a local establishment. Today it was not touring South Lake—rather, a group of talented young men had gathered, and had the boat sail along the canal instead, with music and dancing aboard, composing poetry as they went.

Outings by boat were generally done in the morning, while visits to the pleasure quarters were usually an evening affair; this gathering, beginning in the afternoon, was not exactly prime time for such activities. But now, with the sun setting in the west, the scenery along the canal was awash in golden light, pleasing to the eye. Several of the talented young men stood at the windows looking out, occasionally struck by inspiration for a verse, gesturing grandly at the landscape and lamenting the passage of time. As the boat sailed on, it passed several cargo vessels, and then another pleasure boat came into view from upstream, gradually drawing closer. Suddenly, someone on one side let out a low exclamation.

“Hey, come look, come look…”

“What is it?”

“Look over there.”

The one who had cried out as if discovering a treasure was, naturally, one of the talented young men; he waved his fan, his face full of longing. The others followed the direction he pointed and saw that the approaching boat, too, had several people moving about on it. On the deck at the bow stood a woman in a white skirt, holding a round fan, gazing at the scenery nearby. The wind blew from ahead, stirring her lotus-like skirt; she reached up to brush back the hair at her temple, and as the sunlight poured down, it traced a magnificent golden edge around her silhouette.

Beside the woman stood another woman dressed as a maidservant, saying something to her; the two of them spoke and then laughed. As the two boats drew closer, the woman’s features became clearer, and whispers began to rise.

“Wow, whose young lady is that?”

“That boat doesn’t look like it’s from around here—probably came from Suzhou way.”

“Must be the family of some official, don’t you think?”

“Hey now, staring like that is hardly proper.”

The group pointed and murmured among themselves, and now that the boats were close, the woman could see the people on this side as well; she frowned slightly. Unlike most women of her station, she was beautiful, but with her brow drawn together and her upright bearing, there was a certain cool, distant air about her. After glancing once more at the scenery, she turned and walked back toward the cabin, the maidservant glancing over as well before following behind her. Aboard the other boat, someone rubbed his nose sheepishly, while others laughed and made a fuss.

“We’ve offended a beauty.”

“What do you mean staring like that—don’t forget Miss Qing’er is still right here.”

“Seems this humble one can’t compare to that young lady.”

“Nonsense—to me, Miss Qing’er is far the more beautiful…”

Amid this chatter, someone suddenly spoke up: “Ah, Lin Tingzhi.”

“Who?”

“Look, isn’t that Lin Tingzhi—Lin Yong, Lin Tingzhi…”

Jiaxing and Hangzhou were not far apart, connected by waterway, close enough to travel between in a day, and so connections among the scholarly circles there were fairly close. A couple of the men recognized Lin Tingzhi, whose figure had appeared at the window on the other boat, and the woman called Qing’er recognized him too. “Oh, it really is young master Lin.”

“This Lin Tingzhi is famous as quite the philanderer—why would he be on that boat?”

“Is that so? I heard he’s rather talented at poetry…”

“Rumor, surely. Among the talented men south of the Yangtze, who doesn’t dabble in romance? This Lin Tingzhi looks handsome enough, much like myself…”

“Isn’t he supposed to be in Hangzhou?”

“That young lady looks like a married woman—could she be someone Lin Tingzhi has taken up with?”

More chatter followed, and just as the two boats were passing each other, someone lowered their voice again: “Ah, Lou Shuwan…”

At that moment, another graceful figure appeared on the deck at the stern of that boat. The others looked over; the one who had spoken her name was a scholar from Hangzhou, his expression somewhat complicated. Someone beside him, having heard, asked: “Brother Chen, do you happen to know the people on that boat?”

“Brother Chen is originally from Hangzhou, so it’s no surprise.”

As the others chattered, the man surnamed Chen looked at Lou Shuwan, then glanced toward where Lin Tingzhi had been standing, and lifted his chin. “That woman I do recognize—her name is Lou Shuwan, the beloved daughter of Lou Jinlin of the Lou family in Hangzhou…”

At this, one of the talented young men leaned out of the window. “Boatman, quick, catch up—catch up to that boat!”

“Ha, indeed—what fortune to meet like this. We ought to greet them properly.”

The man surnamed Chen added, “But that Lou Shuwan is already married…” Yet by now the others had already worked themselves into an excited clamor, and his voice was too soft to be heard clearly by anyone. His expression remained somewhat conflicted, as if he wanted to tell the others to stop shouting, but in the end he did not do much to stop them.

“Lin Tingzhi! Brother Lin!”

“Brother Lin.”

In the light of the setting sun, amid calls ringing out from all sides, the two pleasure boats gradually drew alongside each other. The group of talented men on the other boat cupped their hands in greeting. “Brother Lin, it’s been so long.”

“Brother Lin, we had the pleasure of meeting once at the poetry gathering at South Lake—do you remember?”

“Where has Brother Lin come from? If you have the time, do come over and join us.”

They called out to him warmly, as if greeting an old and cherished friend, the atmosphere growing lively in an instant.

Lin Tingzhi emerged from the cabin, at first somewhat taken aback, but amid the chorus of greetings, he glanced sideways at Ning Yi, Su Tan’er, and Lou Shuwan, and after a moment, cupped his hands naturally in return. “Brother Wen, Brother Du, it truly has been a long time…”

In the sunlight, in his scholar’s robe and silk headband, standing tall with hands cupped in greeting, there was for a moment indeed something of the air of a man who need never fear a lack of friends on the road ahead, a man known to all under heaven.

Along this journey, Lou Shuwan had never been particularly warm toward him, and ever since encountering the married couple Su Tan’er and Ning Yi, she had paid him even less attention. He had his own designs regarding her, and had thought this state of affairs only natural, not something to take too much to heart. In truth, had he not possessed just such an easygoing, unbothered temperament, he could never have made his way so freely among the flowers of the pleasure quarters. And yet, with no one around aware of who he really was, the feeling of being overlooked was, in the end, never a pleasant one. Now, with this sudden turn of events, it had become, without question, his proudest moment yet.

“My apologies, my apologies—I still have pressing matters with a few friends here, and we’re on our way back to Hangzhou. I’m afraid there’s no time today…”

Cupping his hands and smiling all the while, he spoke thus, declining with the utmost tact and precision…