From the start of the eleventh lunar month, cold weather settled over the city of Jiangning. On the eighth and ninth days, snow began falling from the sky, and with the goose-feather flakes, a coat of white quietly wrapped itself around the entire ancient city.

The snow hadn’t yet piled deep enough to keep people from going outdoors, but by the usual pattern, once it had started falling like this, it would likely continue on and off clear through to the start of spring next year — snowflakes drifting down intermittently over this span of two to three months. For poor households, weather like this made it nearly impossible to go out at all; in some places people didn’t even have proper winter clothing, and once the heavy snows sealed the mountains, they could only huddle wrapped in blankets on their heated platforms day after day. Winter, for the vast majority of people in this era, was no easy season to get through.

A great city like Jiangning fared somewhat better, given its thriving commerce and no small number of well-off households. In the first few days after the first snowfall, the school still stayed open, though naturally the handful of students living outside the city didn’t come — a common enough occurrence. The teacher’s area had a small brazier of charcoal; the students could only rely on the doors and windows to block out some of the wind. Fortunately they were all at that vigorous young age, so it wasn’t much of a problem. The two girl students each hugged a pretty little hand warmer to their chests. Their families had already told them not to bother coming to school anymore, but they couldn’t bear to miss Ning Yi’s stories, so they kept coming to listen regardless.

Old Qin’s chess stall had naturally stopped being set up once the weather turned cold, though Ning Yi still visited his home a few times — not that it could be too frequent, of course. Still, for an old man, having someone worth talking to come calling was always a good thing. On one occasion he happened to run into Kang Xian there, the old fellow having brought over a few ancient paintings for appraisal, having Old Qin examine them and stamp his seal upon them.

After the heavy snow fell, Ning Yi built a snowman in the courtyard of the Su residence. Each night, the scenery across the entire Su estate was at its most enchanting — looking out from the second floor, the points of light drifting among the various courtyards and buildings glowed warm and resplendent, distinctly of an antique, Eastern style, and yet those glowing clusters seemed to seep out of some beautiful oil painting all the same. Had there been a camera, Ning Yi would have liked to take some shots from above as a keepsake. But the wind was fierce up on the second floor too, and after standing there a while, Xiao Chan would come up to call him down.

On nights like these, it was ultimately more enjoyable to sit by the fire in the downstairs sitting room, chatting idly, playing a game of chess, reading a book, while Su Tan’er and a few of the maids picked out fabric and did some embroidery. Ning Yi’s relationship with Su Tan’er and her circle of maids had naturally grown quite comfortable by now; they’d sit together playing a round of gomoku, and Xing’er, who loved gossip, would occasionally tell some amusing tale from around the great household, while the little maids would sometimes argue over the stories Ning Yi told — whose the fiercer fighter, the fox spirit or the general; did General Xiahou, who liked to eat eyes, have a full beard; would the female demons who got killed off really be all that innocent — all sorts of things, and they’d occasionally run over to ask Ning Yi to judge who was right.

Su Tan’er, in turn, gradually grew fond of the simple rules of gomoku. Every few days she’d go over the account books, sitting alone working an abacus, with the three little maids occasionally coming over to help. If she was playing chess with Ning Yi, she’d also chat idly about amusing anecdotes involving various relatives of the great household, casually revealing bits about the relationships between them.

Occasionally relatives would come calling in the evening; after the snow began, a few of Ning Yi’s students from the school would sometimes come by to pay their respects — really just wanting to angle for stories to listen to. Purely for the entertainment of it, Su Tan’er enjoyed listening to these stories too, taking up her needlework and sitting nearby to listen in while the tales were told.

Occasionally some cousins would come by as well — the younger ones calling Su Tan’er “Second Sister” — usually wanting money for some scheme or other, coming to air their grievances to her, angling to wheedle some silver out of her. Su Tan’er treated all of them kindly, and they in turn knew that so long as they kept things within reason, she’d almost always come through — ask for a hundred strings of cash and you’d generally get sixty to eighty, though you’d have to sit through a round of her advice and nagging first. What they walked away with was enough for a few decent nights out drinking and carousing along the Qinhuai River.

The excuses these people gave were, of course, always framed as being about bettering themselves, but as for how things would actually turn out, even Ning Yi — who barely knew these cousins — could see clearly enough. Su Tan’er was remarkably patient about it; whatever excuse someone brought her, she always played along as though she believed it completely, offering earnest advice in response, then cautioning them not to spend the money carelessly. To those who called her “elder sister” — cousin, that is — she pitched her manner extremely low, playing the image of the perfectly obedient little sister, occasionally teasing them: “So when’s that girl from the Chunfeng House going to become my sister-in-law?” — endlessly amiable to everyone. Once they’d left, she’d tuck away the little box of promissory notes, her bright, kind smile still in place, and then recount to Ning Yi the past amusing exploits of whichever cousin it had been — all good things said, brimming with pride and warm family feeling.

Watching these little scenes unfold beside her, Ning Yi found them interesting — the family affection was likely genuine enough, but he also came to understand exactly why people said the third generation of the Su family had produced no one of real use. Su Tan’er’s marriage had been delayed a few years; at nineteen this year, she was, strictly speaking, something of an old maid by now — though to Ning Yi’s eye that was hardly the case at all. This wife of his, who had already begun taking charge of the senior branch of the Su family, still had the looks and figure of a young girl, even a touch of youthful shyness in her speech and smile — and yet the sense of measure and control running through everything she did was nothing to underestimate.

Being able to gather together every day — playing chess, telling stories, chatting about family matters — the atmosphere between Ning Yi and Su Tan’er had grown considerably more natural than it had been in the days when they only met over meals. In time, Su Tan’er proposed that Ning Yi occasionally accompany her out on visits to households it was necessary to call upon.

The Su family’s textile business ran on a large scale, with no small number of dependent merchants beneath it — reliable business partners and unreliable ones alike. On the occasions when Su Tan’er went out to visit others’ homes to discuss business, it was always better to have a man along with her. In truth, these visits before the New Year weren’t strictly necessary yet, but once the New Year had passed, the joint visits the two of them would make from household to household to pay New Year’s calls would become quite important. Su Tan’er’s invitation now was really meant to let Ning Yi grow a little more familiar with such matters. And within a few days, she was pleased to discover that Ning Yi was, at the very least, thoroughly competent as a decorative presence.

Ning Yi had no interest whatsoever in matters of business among this crowd. While others discussed their dealings, he’d sit off to the side, putting on airs — sipping tea, admiring calligraphy and paintings, smiling and staring off into space. If someone approached to make conversation, he naturally deployed his cure-all bag of tricks to smooth things over, presenting nothing more than the image of a courteous, bookish sort. When Su Tan’er brought him along, all she really asked of him was that he handle the small talk gracefully enough not to leave a bad impression. These people all had some manner of business tie to the Su household, and knowing Ning Yi had married in as a matrilocal son-in-law, they weren’t inclined to make things difficult for him; some, having heard of his reputation, would seek him out to discuss poetry and prose — casual conversation, not any serious examination — which Ning Yi handled with ease.

Whichever household they were due to visit, Su Tan’er would typically fill Ning Yi in on the background the day before or on the way there, laughing and chatting as she explained — some were elders of the trade who’d looked out for the Su family, some were current business partners, and some were fence-sitters who’d bend whichever way the wind blew. Within this rhythm of theirs, she and Ning Yi got along splendidly; once they were out and about, she’d cheerfully report back the results of the visit, tossing in a joke or two, or grumbling a little — “that old fox, wouldn’t let slip a single thing” — that sort of thing.

Most of these outings were dull affairs of exactly this sort. Of course, there were occasional exceptions — a little episode, and the visit on the fourteenth of November left Ning Yi feeling that he really was thoroughly bored out of his mind…

…

“…The He brothers’ silk business is still a fairly substantial operation, and the two brothers do have some ability, though they’ve never really settled on a clear direction. After the last batch of business we discussed with them wrapped up, this time, word has it they’ve already worked out a deal with the Xue family. Going over there today is really just a courtesy visit…”

In the carriage, Su Tan’er said this while turning the little bead bracelet on her wrist.

Ning Yi nodded. “So we’re just going through the motions, then?”

“Heh, husband, just go through the motions a bit.” She smiled, sliding the bead bracelet onto her wrist, lifting her head and tilting it to adjust a few strands of hair at the back. “After we’re done there, do you have plans this afternoon?”

“Thinking of stopping by the bookshops on the east side of the city, looking for some old texts from the Tang dynasty.”

“I’ll excuse myself early today and go along with you.”

“Sure.”

It was a piece of business unlikely to be settled in any case — the visit was simply a matter of maintaining goodwill even though the deal had fallen through, as Ning Yi had put it, no more than going through the motions would be needed. But if some fly kept buzzing about during what should have been an amiable, going-through-the-motions sort of visit, that would rather spoil the mood. This particular afternoon’s visit to the He household wasn’t just Su Tan’er and Ning Yi — there were also people from two other merchant houses present. The elder of the He brothers, He Jun — the silk merchant Su Tan’er addressed as “Uncle” — hosted everyone together in a side hall by the garden, several large braziers keeping the surroundings warm, the snowy garden scenery visible right outside, the conversation carrying a rather refined air. Also on hand as host was his son, He Tingguang.

The He family had two men in charge of its affairs — besides He Jun, it was the younger brother, He Feng, who was the real business talent of the two. Su Tan’er had only come to pay a courtesy call; once the tea gathering had gone on for a while, she went off with three maids and the rest of the group to admire the snow in the garden, where she happened to run into He Feng, who’d come over from that direction. From where Ning Yi sat, he could see the group over there chatting away.

With fewer people left in the side hall, He Tingguang began pestering Ning Yi about his poetic talent. He clearly didn’t believe Ning Yi had much real ability and wanted to test him — though, unfortunately, he himself wasn’t especially gifted either. Ning Yi fielded him with a few noncommittal remarks, while the other man kept prattling on and on, dropping hints about his friendship with the great talent Xue Jin, even bringing up a few of Xue Jin’s recent works for Ning Yi to critique.

This fellow’s an empty vessel too… Ning Yi thought, bored. He Jun, He Tingguang’s father, seemingly sensing his son was talking nonsense, stepped in to smooth things over, and Ning Yi naturally had to pick up the thread: “Su Tan’er mentioned the He family’s silk business is impressively large in scale — mainly around Shouzhou, isn’t it?”

He Jun frowned slightly, but He Tingguang was already laughing. “Allow me to enlighten you, brother — our family actually operates mainly around Luzhou and Chaohu. Should you ever find yourself traveling that way, best not to go looking in the wrong place…”

Ning Yi blinked, then nodded after a moment. “Ah, I see… Luzhou and Shouzhou aren’t so far apart, though — shipping the raw silk over…”

He Jun, for some reason, frowned even deeper at this. “Nephew, why do you suddenly bring up Shouzhou?”

“No particular reason — doesn’t the Xue family have a workshop in Shouzhou? Run by that Manager Yan, I think. I believe I heard someone mention it recently… so I assumed the He family’s business might be centered there…”

He Tingguang burst out laughing. “Brother, you don’t understand these matters, so don’t go saying things at random. Manager Yan clearly handles affairs in Luzhou — everyone here among the uncles surely knows as much. If you don’t believe me, go ahead and ask them, heh heh…”

At this, the men from the other two merchant houses laughed along too, backing him up. Ning Yi smiled and nodded. “I don’t understand these things — just caught some odd bits of talk here and there, must have gotten it mixed up…” Everyone there knew of his status as a matrilocal son-in-law, so none of them found this especially strange, only smiling along. But He Jun spoke up in a low voice: “I wonder, nephew, where you happened to hear these odd bits of talk.”

Ning Yi studied his serious expression, thought it over with some puzzlement, then shook his head blankly. “I just… occasionally hear people chatting, and, er… I don’t really know the details, ha, forgive me for making myself look foolish, Uncle. Su Tan’er understands business matters, but I don’t — I don’t really know much about the Xue family either. I must have simply mixed up Luzhou and Shouzhou, ha ha…”

After he smoothed things over like that, everything that followed took a rather strange turn — He Jun sat there frowning, seemingly turning over some important matter in his mind, then called a steward over and gave him some quiet instructions. Ning Yi frowned to himself: I was just saying something off the cuff — surely I didn’t actually guess right…

These past several days, tagging along after Su Tan’er, he had no real interest in the business talk around him, but a rough outline had gradually taken shape in his mind all the same — which family did what business, how the whole picture fit together. Whether he consciously thought about it or not, these things had a way of laying themselves out before him, clearly or vaguely. Bringing up Shouzhou just now had really only been a way to brush off He Tingguang’s line of talk — he’d merely sensed, vaguely, from bits of conversation overheard these past days, that something might be shifting in the Xue family’s business, that their focus might be moving from Luzhou to Shouzhou, and that in the Shouzhou direction there happened to be a silk merchant positioned against the He family who might be moving to get involved… All of this was no more than a hazy outline in his mind, nothing certain — he’d simply had a sharp instinct for some key point buried in it. But judging by the results, he really had ended up hitting on something.

Not long after, as he took his leave, and Ning Yi and Su Tan’er were saying their farewells to He Jun before boarding the carriage, He Feng came chasing after them from behind, exchanging a solemn look with He Jun. “Grand-niece, please wait a moment — regarding next spring’s silk, I wonder if the Su family has settled its plans for the surrounding areas yet. If you have a moment today, grand-niece, there’s a batch of spring silkworm business I’d like to discuss with you…”

Su Tan’er turned back, utterly puzzled, unable to understand what had suddenly brought about this change. With his back to them, Ning Yi rolled his eyes, bored.

“Damn it… loose tongue strikes again…”