At two quarters past the hour of Wei, just as Long Boyuan and Ding Wanjun sat chatting idly in Yihe Garden, out on West Lake a pleasure boat drifted slowly along the emerald waves.

It was a boat built purely for leisurely lake outings—a single deck, finely made but not ostentatious, its canopy spread wide and thick, with perhaps two or three layers providing some insulation from the heat. Though the weather was hot, the wind on the lake grew strong once past noon, and with the boat’s thin curtains letting the breeze through on every side, the cabin felt only pleasantly cool.

Afternoon, a pleasure boat, West Lake—by Western reckoning it was perhaps around two in the afternoon. Even in the spacious cabin, which was not hot, the wide lake, on which only the occasional distant boat could be seen, was enough to bring on a drowsy, languid mood. Had another boat passed close by, its passengers would have seen that the boat’s owner was already asleep on a bamboo cot inside the cabin. The low tables and chairs held a black-and-white go board still set with stones, sitting quietly by the cabin entrance, showing that someone had recently been playing there. The players were apparently two young maids, who now leaned against the cabin wall, likewise fast asleep—one had her arms around the other’s waist, her head resting on her shoulder, while the one being held still absently fanned a little now and then with the fan in her hand.

By the window on the other side of the cabin, another young maid sat on a low stool, bent over a small table before her, her gaze hazy as she went through some paperwork. She was likely the only one still awake in the cabin—brush in hand, she worked through what looked like an account book, occasionally making a mark, mostly nothing very important. After a while of this she would yawn and doze off against the table, then force herself awake again, blinking groggily, chin propped in one hand while the other kept flipping through pages absently.

In the sultry summer heat, this scene of leisure aboard the pleasure boat, with its thin gauze curtains stirring in the breeze, was a picture worthy of a painting. There were of course boatmen and hands aboard, but they generally kept away from this side to avoid disturbing their master’s sleep. After a while longer, the maid at the window, sorting the account book, finally gave in and fell soundly asleep as well.

At some point, indistinctly, a figure came walking over, gathered up the loose fluttering gauze by the window, and tied it back, then laid a light blanket over the three sleeping maids. The wind on the lake was strong after all, and now that they were asleep, some precaution was in order.

The maid who had been sorting the accounts opened her eyes slightly, and through her hazy vision saw that tall figure moving about at the bow of the boat, doing what were called warm-up exercises. A moment later there came a splash, and the figure had plunged into the lake.

Perhaps it was time to get up, the maid thought to herself. But before long, another white-clad figure passed at the edge of her vision—that was the mistress, walking to the bow, crouching to fold up the outer robe the master had shed, before sitting down at the side of the boat, leaning against the railing. Though she had woken, her mood still seemed somewhat languid.

A breeze passed, and the hem of her white skirt fluttered lightly, along with a few loose strands of hair that had come undone during her nap.

Faint voices could be heard from up ahead. The mistress, arms wrapped around the railing, shook her head—even from behind, one could tell her mood was both lazy and pleased. Likely the master was again coaxing her into the water.

The affection between the mistress and the master was the kind that made people envious. Even a maid who had seen the workings of many great households had never anywhere else witnessed a marriage with such feeling between husband and wife—something that could not simply be described as harmony or mutual respect. Given that the master had married into the family, it was almost strange to see such warmth between them. Whenever she thought of it, the maid named Xing’er could not help wondering what sort of husband she herself might end up with someday—if she could only find something like this, that would be enough; and if not, perhaps it would be no great loss not to marry at all. In any case, she would spend her life in the Su household, and both the young mistress and the master treated her kindly enough.

Her own situation, compared to that of maids in other great households, was rather particular. As the young mistress’s chief maid, she would ordinarily also have been a “bedchamber maid”—but since the master had married into the family, the likelihood of her being assigned to him was low. Ordinarily a young lady would not be given three personal maids; her own mistress had asked for two extra because she later went out into the world to manage business affairs. The mistress and master got along so well that by now it seemed all but settled that Xiao Chan would end up with the master, while she and Juan’er remained uncertain what would become of them.

In the past, it had all seemed clear enough.

Girls in their position, back home, would in time be married off to some capable servant or steward within the family, and would go on serving as maids in the Su household even after marriage. Their husbands would be well regarded within the family, and they themselves would hold some standing, safe from mistreatment—compared to other maids, theirs was the fate most likely to turn out happy and secure.

Everyone’s path in life followed roughly the same course, and there was little use dwelling on it—but these past year or two, having witnessed something so much better than the ordinary, an odd emptiness had begun to creep into her heart. That future she had once taken for granted no longer seemed quite so certain.

The young mistress herself had married rather late. She and Juan’er, too, were already no longer so young; she did not know when the young mistress might call them in to discuss such matters, and did not know whether Juan’er had given it thought, but lately she herself had begun turning it over in her mind now and then.

Since the mistress was already up, she could hardly go on sleeping herself, but the mood up ahead did not seem the sort she could simply interrupt by rising, so she lay there, eyes half-closed, watching. A good while passed—it must have been nearing the hour of Shen—and the afternoon light grew noticeably stronger as the master climbed back up from the lake and went to the side cabin to change. By then Chan’er and Juan’er, who had been sleeping in each other’s arms, had also woken, and the maids went to the back to prepare a dessert of white fungus and lotus seed, and brought out a box of ice, chipping off pieces from it. The cabin, at last, grew lively again.

For over a month now, the family had often spent whole afternoons drifting on West Lake like this.

Travel and information were not so developed in this age, and a place’s commercial world tended to be far more regional and exclusive than in later times. Ning Yi would accompany his wife on her calls to one merchant house after another, usually scheduled for the mornings. Starting with Guild Head Long Boyuan, there was nearly always some appointment each day; but once the calls were done, there was some freedom, and unless there was some pressing matter, they generally sought out somewhere to sightsee and escape the heat.

Since it was just the family, there was no need for formal entertaining, and they could naturally be more at ease. After trying a few different spots, Su Tan’er had spent the money to buy a pleasure boat outright, and now, whenever they came away from a merchant’s home, they would go straight aboard, eat lunch on the boat, take an afternoon nap, and then spend the rest of the day as they pleased—chatting, playing go, discussing business decisions. By now Ning Yi and Su Tan’er had access to more or less the same information, and so there was no shortage of things to talk about. He tended to stay silent in other people’s homes, but once alone with his wife, he would discuss his impressions of that day’s visit, what the other side’s attitude had been, what gifts might be appropriate, what to do going forward, and so on—and in this way several small collaborative deals had come out of it.

It being still early days in Hangzhou, larger deals were for now difficult to secure—in a market this exclusive, what Ning Yi and Su Tan’er had in mind was simply to spend a few months letting people know “we’ve arrived,” that “the market has one more merchant, but we’re no different from the others.” Only once everyone had grown more or less accustomed to their presence would it truly be time to push hard to establish the Jiangning cloth trade here.

Comparatively, the money spent buying the pleasure boat, the residence, and on various excursions had already exceeded their early commercial investment—but these were only small sums for the moment, and Su Tan’er did not mind it in the least.

She and her husband got along happily and easily in everything, in a manner that made anyone who saw them envious. These days, her younger brothers Wending and Wenfang, who had reined in their behavior somewhat under their elder sister’s pressure and now helped with the business, would sometimes come aboard the boat for an afternoon, and Ning Yi would have them get off and go swimming with him.

As for swimming, Su Tan’er herself was rather opposed to it—given the times, it simply did not sit well for people of family and standing to do such things in public. Su Wending and Su Wenfang felt the same, but when Ning Yi learned they could swim, he simply kicked the two of them into the water one after another, and there was nothing Su Tan’er could do about it—especially since she herself had once been made to go in the water by him, and so long as there were no other pleasure boats nearby, she had little choice but to tolerate his fondness for swimming.

That first time she had gone into the water, it had certainly not been of her own free will—though it was not the sort of thing he’d done with her brothers either, simply kicking her in. By then Ning Yi had already practiced several times, and the swimming ability from his memories was gradually returning to him. He had suggested several times that she try going in with him, but she had always refused; even wagering business matters could not make her take that bet. Then one time, having been in the water only a short while, he suddenly pretended to sink, thrashing about and calling out that he had a cramp. There had been no boatmen or hands in sight at the time—only Su Tan’er. She had frozen in shock for an instant, then jumped in fully clothed.

She had only swum a little as a child, and her real skill in the water was quite limited. In her panic, she nearly drowned herself, swallowing several mouthfuls of water, and only realized she had been tricked after Ning Yi had pulled her close. She looked at him, his expression cold as ice, the stern face he rarely wore even when disciplining his staff, and when he cupped her face and kissed her mouth, she fought him with all her strength.

Su Tan’er was a woman of strong will and firm opinions; her gentleness in front of Ning Yi was a matter of upbringing. In this moment, with her emotions in turmoil, ordinary comfort would not have soothed her at all. Later she wanted to get back aboard, but he kept dragging her through the water in circles instead. At first she struggled, but eventually gave in and let him. Once back on the boat, she kept a stony, silent face the whole time, frightening Chan’er and Juan’er badly. This continued right up until evening; after washing up, she sat at the table sternly working through the account books, refusing to go to bed. Ning Yi came over; whichever book she opened, he took it away; this went on until, with her eyes glaring coldly at him as if about to explode, he finally said, “Time for bed.”

“I’m not going to bed—” Su Tan’er said, stiff-necked, biting off each word, but before she could finish, Ning Yi had already tossed her onto the bed, and the two of them fell into a scuffle.

Outside, the three maids listened with hearts pounding, Chan’er’s hands clenched into fists—but at least Su Tan’er did not cry out or call anyone in. After a while the room fell quiet, and none of the three knew quite what had happened. On the bed inside, Ning Yi had pinned Su Tan’er’s wrists down with his left hand, holding her beneath him, and she, glaring straight up at him, sank her teeth into his right arm. It was a hard bite, drawing blood.

Ning Yi let her bite down, and after a moment said, “Little tigress.”

Su Tan’er ground her teeth in fury and bit down harder, drawing more blood. Ning Yi’s brow did not so much as twitch. The two of them glared at each other like that for a long while, until Ning Yi leaned down with a smile. “I know a man who tames tigers—his hands are covered in bite and scratch marks. Seems that’s just part of the job.” As he spoke he kissed her eyes; Su Tan’er, who had been glaring, had no choice but to close them as he leaned in, feeling deeply humiliated. She had wanted to bite down harder still, but by now she could taste the sweet-metallic tang of blood in her mouth, and her jaw loosened despite herself. Through gritted teeth she said, “Let go of me, get out!”

“Not letting go.”

“You… you…”

“The son-in-law who married in?”

“…” Su Tan’er, who had been furiously trying to think of what to call him, went suddenly pale. She looked at his face, her gaze full of tangled emotion, not knowing what to say. “I—I didn’t…”

Outside, the three maids listening at the window caught the words “married in” and turned pale themselves. Su Tan’er and Ning Yi had been married two years, and this was their first real quarrel—but all three maids understood that they could quarrel about anything except that particular subject; if it came to that, the consequences would be dire.

Su Tan’er herself was not sure whether her earlier outburst had drifted toward that subject or not. Looking at Ning Yi’s smiling face, her heart went cold. Even with all her experience navigating the world of business, she could not for the moment tell what mood he was actually in. Ning Yi smiled slightly, still not letting go. “It won’t help. I’m still not letting go.” He propped his bleeding right hand beside her.

“I… you…” Su Tan’er pressed her lips together. “I… I didn’t mean that…”

“Saying so doesn’t matter—after all, you’re the one who married me… whether I married in or not means nothing to me. Your family may feel it matters, other people outside may feel it matters, but in reality it doesn’t. However I came to marry you, in the end it all comes to the same thing. If I truly wanted to do something, few could stop me—not the people in Jiangning, not these people in Hangzhou, not the Wu family, not even your father or grandfather… The reason I don’t do certain things is simply that I genuinely don’t want to.”

Ning Yi spoke softly into her ear, without any particular emphasis in his tone. “You jumped in today, and it moved me… You’re my wife, and that has nothing to do with my having married into your family.”

Su Tan’er’s expression shifted rapidly, and in her embarrassment she said, “You—what are you even saying…”

“Nothing much. I just wanted to tell you I was really moved today, because you jumped in without a second thought. And here I am, moved, while you’re the one getting angry—that’s not really fair. And you clearly enjoyed swimming afterward too, yet you kept that stony face the whole time…”

“I—I didn’t… let go of me…”

“Oh, and one more thing I should tell you: a real man never lets go once he’s said he won’t…”

As he spoke, Su Tan’er still struggling, she suddenly felt movement beneath her, her almond eyes going round, her face flushing suddenly crimson.

“You, you, you… you can’t… do this…”

“But I find it rather thrilling…”

“Your hand’s still bleeding…” she said, nearly in tears.

That night stretched on for a long while before Su Tan’er finally managed to bandage the wound on Ning Yi’s arm. When the two of them finally lay down to sleep properly, Su Tan’er, thinking back over it all, realized she had been led completely off the original subject.

“Ning Liheng, I still haven’t said—I’m very angry with you today…”

“But you’ve already shown it plenty.”

“You haven’t apologized…”

“…” Ning Yi was silent for a moment, then reached out and pulled his wife close, sighing. “Well… a real man doesn’t apologize even when he’s wrong.”

“…You’re shameless.”

“Actually, next time you could just ask me why I married into your family.”

Su Tan’er’s body went tense. “Why, then?”

“Forgot. Did you forget I once lost my memory?”

“…” She fell silent. “Let go of me.”

“Hm?”

“I want to sleep facing away from you…”

And so she slept in Ning Yi’s arms with her back to him the whole night. The next day, when Ning Yi asked what her feelings had been at the moment she jumped in, she refused to say anything at all—in truth she could not remember what she had felt at the time; perhaps there had been no particular feeling at all, she had simply jumped. In any case, it was not something she could ever tell him.

In truth, over these two months, ever since learning that Qin Siyuan had invited Ning Yi along when he went up to the capital, Su Tan’er’s heart had remained troubled and conflicted. Over this past month, as Ning Yi accompanied her on visit after visit, and the other party, upon learning that Ning Yi had married into her family, inevitably gave him various looks, she—even though she largely understood Ning Yi’s own indifference to it—could not help but have all sorts of thoughts of her own. Especially once news arrived in the sixth month that Qin Siyuan had risen to the position of Right Chancellor, the words “married in” had grown ever more sensitive in her heart.

It was only after this quarrel that some of these feelings within her finally settled somewhat. Afterward, when Ning Yi went to swim off the boat, he sometimes still invited her in, and since there was no one around, he did not mind his family engaging in such exercise—but Su Tan’er by now would rather have died than go into the water again. Still, worried about her husband swimming alone, whenever he went in she would sit on the gunwale watching. Sometimes he would come over and talk to her from the water at the boat’s edge, and she would take off her shoes and stockings and dip her feet in. In this era, many women were more self-conscious about their bare feet than about their bodies, and if she spotted a boat approaching from a distance, she would instantly pull her feet up, tuck them beneath her skirt, and quietly put her shoes and stockings back on.

Though they had now been in Hangzhou over a month, apart from the daily round of calls, the couple mostly kept to their own small world. Occasionally they saw something of Lou Shuwan, and had met her two elder brothers, Lou Shuweng and Lou Shuwang, a few times. Sometimes, coming home at dusk, Ning Yi would stop at the corner to watch the burly men at the Liu Martial Arts Academy going through their practice, hollering as they went, the sunset filtering through the trees, with Xiao Chan or another family member beside him—the days passed in a carefree, pleasant way.

Then, past the middle of the sixth month, a stranger finally came calling. This man turned out to be connected to Qian Xiwen, named Shi Changqi, who came to pay his respects upon hearing Ning Yi’s name—only to go, once he learned of Ning Yi’s status as a son-in-law who had married into another family, from open-mouthed astonishment to something closer to an outright reproach at his door…