Carrying a towel through the rear rooms on the way to a bath, he saw Xing’er sneaking candy.

“Sneaking” was not quite the right word, perhaps. As the household’s chief maid, and in practice its housekeeper, Xing’er handled the money and the accounts herself, and her own monthly wage came to twelve taels of silver. In an age where a servant could be bought outright for thirty to fifty taels, with the red envelopes and bonuses that came with every festival, and various other perks besides, Xing’er, were she out in the wider world, would already have been something of a wealthy young catch, quite capable of affording whatever fine things she wanted.

But regardless, at this moment, she certainly looked as though she were sneaking something.

What she had taken from the cabinet was nothing especially fine—Ning Yi recalled it as some crisp candy he had bought carelessly on the street not long ago, which had tasted poor, after which he had lost all interest in it. Now here was Xing’er, eating it. Holding the long strip of crisp candy, she glanced furtively around, then popped a bite into her mouth and chewed away furiously, a crunching sound escaping her—making her look rather like a squirrel. When she finished one piece, she carefully wiped her mouth, then could not resist glancing longingly at the bag still in the cabinet, looking left and right again before taking out another piece…

He had seen something like this before, apparently, though he had never thought much of it at the time; only now did he find it interesting—there was something rather comically furtive about her expression. Thinking back on it, as Su Tan’er’s chief maid, Xing’er did have something of a sharp-tongued side to her, though nothing to rival the notorious “Phoenix” Wang Xifeng. As a maid, there were rules to be kept within the household; in front of Chan’er and Juan’er she carried herself as their elder sister, and in managing household affairs she was generally composed. In Ning Yi’s eyes, though, she was still just a young girl, not so very different from Chan’er and Juan’er—only he had rarely, if ever, seen her sit off by herself snacking like this before. In fact, thinking on it, he had never seen it at all—her manner had always been that of a maid dutifully carrying out her various tasks.

The last time he’d caught her sitting off eating something, he hadn’t given it much thought, but now, realizing it, he recalled that there had been no one else around that time either. Watching her eat with such evident enjoyment, Ning Yi walked on from the window and went off with his fresh towel to bathe.

After his bath, back in the room, Su Tan’er sat by the window reading a letter—a family letter that had come along with a recent shipment of goods from Jiangning. Ning Yi sat down at the other desk and gazed out the window, lost in thought. Because of the room’s layout, the two desks were not placed facing each other but arranged side by side before the window; Ning Yi occasionally thought it rather resembled sitting next to a desk-mate back in grade school, and turning to look at Su Tan’er now, he found her in a plain white dress, her hair casually gathered up behind her head, loose strands trailing down to her shoulders, her skin fair, her profile beautiful and self-assured.

If only he’d had a desk-mate like this back in school…

Su Tan’er turned to look at him. “Husband, what is it?”

Oh, and if that girl desk-mate had called him “husband” too…

That would have been wonderful…

Ning Yi raised a hand and drew a line down the join between the two desks. “That side’s yours, this side’s mine. No crossing the line.”

Su Tan’er blinked in confusion, then said softly, “What?”

“Nothing—back at school, when everyone pushed their desks together, no one was allowed to cross onto the other person’s side. It was a fun thing.”

Su Tan’er considered this and smiled. “The desks at Yushan Academy were kept quite separate—and girls certainly weren’t seated next to boys…”

Ning Yi gave her a look and reached over to pull the hairpin from her head, and her long hair came tumbling down at once. Su Tan’er’s eyes widened and she quickly began gathering it up. “Leaving it down is so hot…” She reached over several times trying to snatch the pin back, without success, and finally just found a cord to tie it up with instead. Ning Yi watched the pale nape of her neck, exposed as her hair rose, like a swan’s.

“Oh, right—I saw Xing’er eating candy just now. Does she like crisp candy?”

“Eh? You saw that too, husband?” Su Tan’er said, tying up her hair with a laugh.

“You knew?”

“Mm, that girl has quite a sweet tooth.”

“You’d never guess it, ordinarily.”

“Of course not—when there’s anyone around, she’s all seriousness.” Su Tan’er smiled. “You don’t know, husband—when she was little, she was kidnapped and sold by a human trafficker. That trafficker used a piece of candy to lure her away. She was too young then to remember her way home; later, when we tried to find her, we found the go-between who’d bought her from the trafficker, but the trafficker himself couldn’t be found, and the trail went cold there.”

“Ah…”

Ning Yi found himself briefly at a loss for words. Su Tan’er tilted her head, going on with evident interest.

“Not many people know she’s a sweet tooth—I only learned it myself after spending a long time with her. Chan’er and Juan’er probably know too. She was the first to come to me. In the early days she still liked candy openly enough, but later, after someone said she’d been kidnapped for candy, she grew ashamed of it, and started hiding away whenever she wanted some…”

“Ha, so she got kidnapped because of a sweet tooth…”

Ning Yi repeated this, unable to help laughing. Of the three maids, the one Ning Yi had the most contact with day to day was really only Chan’er; the family’s true closeness with one another, in fact, had only developed over the half year since he and Su Tan’er had consummated their marriage, so he still didn’t know a great deal about Xing’er and Juan’er’s private lives. The two of them chatted a while longer, trading such small gossip, before turning to the matter of tomorrow’s poetry gathering, on the occasion of the Start of Autumn.

Xiaoyingzhou was, in fact, the Three Pools Mirroring the Moon out on West Lake, a renowned scenic spot both now and in later times. With Qian Xiwen’s invitation delivered, they would of course be going tomorrow. Moreover, the gathering at Xiaoyingzhou that afternoon would not be limited to poets alone—since the prefect himself was hosting it, those attending would include not just men of letters but officials and various well-connected merchants as well. With Su Tan’er going along, it would also help raise her presence in Hangzhou’s business circles.

“Only… could it be that Elder Qian is sending this invitation now because of that Shi Changqi fellow?”

The first time Shi Changqi had called, Su Tan’er had simply taken him for a friend of Ning Yi’s, and had come out to greet him warmly, serving tea and refreshments—which was exactly why Shi Changqi had noticed nothing amiss between the couple, and later, when arguing with the others, had flatly refused to believe Ning Yi had married into another family. On his second visit, Su Tan’er had not been home, but she had heard about it afterward, and now, putting the pieces together, she asked Ning Yi about it, who merely smiled.

“Curiosity, certainly—but it’s likely just a matter of a greeting and a few words. To tell the truth, don’t take it too much to heart. That old fox Qin didn’t send that letter out of pure kindness—more likely he’s trying to needle me a bit. It’s not that he holds anything against you and me specifically, but… well, there are things he can’t quite let go of, that’s only natural.”

Su Tan’er knew exactly whom Ning Yi meant by “that old fox”—she knew too that the man her husband spoke of so casually now held the rank of Right Chancellor, and the thought of it still struck her as faintly surreal. She nodded now, saying softly, “Actually, I know Old Master Qin genuinely cares for you, husband.”

“Mm, so once we’re done here, I imagine I’ll have to go up to the capital.” Ning Yi said this plainly, without treating it as any great matter. “Of course, we’ll wait until you’ve finished settling the business here in Hangzhou first. When I go up to the capital, I’ll certainly bring you along—you can argue with me about it if you like, but I’ll insist…”

He said this, and Su Tan’er looked at him, blinking with a touch of warmth in her eyes, not quite sure what to say for a moment. Ning Yi gazed out the window and shrugged. “And of course, you’re welcome to keep running the business from the capital too—I’ll help when it’s needed.”

Su Tan’er lowered her head, then shook it. “If you’d said all this before we came to Hangzhou, we wouldn’t have come here at all—going up to the capital would be just the same…” She thought a moment, then added, “Though once we’re in the capital, I won’t go on running the business myself—let Wending and Wenfang handle it. An official’s family member going about openly in trade would reflect on you, husband… and besides, once you’re an official, you might not even be stationed in the capital itself.”

Su Tan’er’s desire for control over the household affairs was not, in truth, as strong as most people might imagine. Now that her husband had earned such regard, with the real chance of becoming an official, she was naturally willing to step back. And having decided to step back, she understood clearly enough that if Ning Yi truly did become an official, she would no longer be able to continue in trade—and so she raised the matter herself. Ning Yi, however, shook his head, his thinking altogether different from hers.

“No need to think so far ahead—I’m not going to become an official.” He explained calmly, “Once we’re in the capital, perhaps I’ll have Old Qin help arrange some passable status for me—honestly, even the rank of a licentiate would do, no need even for a provincial graduate’s rank. At most I plan to serve as some sort of advisor—offering suggestions, doing a bit of planning here and there. It won’t be quite the same as chatting idly back in Jiangning—once I take something on, I’ll actually do it properly. But it’s purely the sort of thing where I just talk, stirring things up behind the scenes, whispering flattering suggestions while leaning on the Right Chancellor’s influence, ha ha…”

Ning Yi laughed. “As for actually taking some post out in the provinces, becoming a county magistrate or the like—that sort of tedious business, I have no intention of doing. I don’t want to get pulled into that system, all the scheming and kowtowing—that doesn’t suit what I set out to do. At most I’ll offer my opinions; whether they’re adopted or not, I’ll leave to Old Qin’s own judgment. Maybe my armchair theorizing will turn out useless after all, and I’ll end up coming back regardless—but as for you, it shouldn’t affect you much.”

“Ning Liheng…”

Su Tan’er said his name softly, head bowed, and Ning Yi laughed. “Your voice has changed—I knew this speech would move you to tears. Feel free to cry if you need to, it’ll make me feel quite accomplished. Look, here’s a shoulder for you…”

At this, Su Tan’er couldn’t help laughing after all, and reached out to swat him. “Other people can’t manage to become officials themselves, so they want to be someone’s advisor instead, always relying on someone else’s power in the end to make something of themselves. You, meanwhile, could actually become an official yourself, and you’d rather be someone’s advisor…”

“I’ve worked it out—of all the professions, being an advisor is by far the most relaxed. Good pay, little work, light responsibility. When you have an idea, you speak up; if you don’t, no one really expects much of you either. And all you have to do is talk—success or failure falls on someone else’s shoulders. Those who’re always dying to become officials are the real fools—officials have to answer for everything, under all that pressure, drinking coffee and losing sleep over it, growing beards and bad tempers, and never getting the girl…”

In truth, being a genuine advisor involved rather more than that, but Ning Yi’s aimless, ambitionless rambling had Su Tan’er thoroughly amused, laughing so hard that even the odd foreign word “coffee” slipped past without her noticing—Ning Yi, after all, was forever coming out with all sorts of strange terms. Before long, Xing’er came to call the two of them to dinner, just as the sun was setting in the west, a few birds flying across the sky. Su Tan’er stood in the courtyard and looked up, seeing only a single thin streak of cloud, dyed red by the sunset.

What a clear sky, she thought, smoothing back the hair at her temple.

The next afternoon, the whole family set out—Ning Yi and his wife, Chan’er, Juan’er, and Xing’er, along with Su Wending and Su Wenfang—making their way to the lakeside, where they boarded their own pleasure boat and, together with countless other boats, set off toward Xiaoyingzhou…