“Once Marshal Li Tianrun comes back, I’m afraid there’s going to be a bit of turmoil here in Hangzhou.”
Taking a small sip of the tea in her cup, Lou Shuwan smiled elegantly, and as she set the cup down, the silver bracelet on her wrist gave a soft, clear “ting” against the porcelain.
“Liheng, teaching at the academy, might be somewhat removed from it all — but I’ve heard that the reason Wenlie Academy has been able to stay standing is that someone above has been backing it. This time, though, it might touch a wider circle. I heard that… you once spoke at the academy about certain matters concerning old Master Qian. With the times so sensitive now, that could well be brought up again — you should be careful, Liheng… though it should be fine. The Lou family carries some weight in Hangzhou now, and though… you might look down on this sort of thing, if anything happens, I could let you know, and perhaps I could help. I hope you won’t hold it against me…”
Ever since their reunion at the hundred-officials banquet, this was Lou Shuwan’s fifth visit. Though her reputation outside hadn’t been the best in the past, if she truly wanted to leave a good impression, Lou Shuwan wasn’t the type of woman who would immediately repel people — her manner was gracious and appropriate, and her visits carried a sense of restraint. The first time she’d come, she’d left again in less time than it took to finish a cup of tea; the second visit had also seemed rushed. According to her, the Lou family had some business interests here too, and she’d simply come by to check on them. Having lost touch with many old acquaintances since the war, now that they had met again, it was only natural they should keep in contact.
By the third visit, things had grown noticeably more natural. Lou Shuwan, without any false pretense, brought various household items that a well-off family might need, along with some old books and paintings — treasures that, in the old days, would have been considered valuable collector’s items in Hangzhou.
“They’re not worth much anymore,” Lou Shuwan had said with a smile at the time, a hint of wistfulness in her voice. “During the month or two of fighting, things got burned, smashed — those who knew their value got killed. The Lou family scooped up a fair number of these during the chaos; honestly, we originally meant to give them away as gifts…”
She’d gone on, laughing, “A month ago, General Pan Wende over at the West Camp seized himself a mansion and had it renovated. He said the place had nothing decorative, so he asked for some paintings and antiques to fill it out. We hurried and sent over our most valuable crate, but General Pan wasn’t pleased at all — he said the Lou family had sent so little, not even enough to cover one wall, and it was all old stuff besides. So we quickly sent two more crates of gold and silver, and only then did he calm down. A few days later, another general also wanted paintings and antiques, so we gathered ten crates all at once, and that general said the flying dragons and phoenixes in these paintings looked better than the ones we’d sent Pan Wende… honestly, ten crates weren’t even worth much silver at all…”
“Afterward, I thought about it — since they didn’t value it anyway, there was no point pressing our warm face against their cold backside, so we stopped sending that kind of thing. But keeping these things at home is like burying pearls in the dark. Liheng knows their true worth, so please, take them and enjoy them. In times like these, this is a small matter — you mustn’t be so formal with me…”
It was hard to imagine what Lou Shuwan’s past dealings with scholars and men of letters had truly looked like, but in this post-war, besieged city where everyone lived in fear, the Lou family had risen swiftly, and this young lady of the Lou family — now holding a higher standing than ever before — had adopted the manner of a true gentleman’s friendship, plain as water. Had Ning Yi truly been the sort of down-and-out talented scholar with nowhere else to turn, he might well have been won over by her bearing and generosity. And even with his head clear, in a situation where any extra bit of help was welcome, Ning Yi naturally had no reason to refuse her goodwill outright.
The next two visits had felt even more natural. Somehow having learned that Ning Yi had spoken at the academy about Qian Xiwen, Lou Shuwan had, on several occasions since, made self-deprecating remarks about how little her family’s power really amounted to. In truth, this wasn’t entirely feigned — though she wasn’t herself a woman of great literary talent, Lou Shuwan held genuine admiration for things like literary refinement and moral integrity; if not for that, she wouldn’t have spent so much time moving among circles of scholars in the past. And this time, she had brought news that Li Tianrun was returning. Having been so thoroughly won over by Ning Yi, her own investigations hadn’t run very deep — had she known the true reason Ning Yi had been brought here, or the history of enmity between Li Tianyou and Ning Yi, what she said just now would likely have been quite different.
“Uh, how do you know all this?” As she spoke, Ning Yi had been sorting through two reports just brought over by a personal guard from the Overlord Blade Camp. He already knew about Li Tianrun’s return and had his own guesses about what would follow — but hearing these same speculations from Lou Shuwan’s mouth still left him rather surprised.
“I heard that among the rebels, there’s always been a faction in favor of accepting amnesty…” Lou Shuwan lowered her voice. “It’s just that Fang La’s — the rebellion’s — momentum has kept growing, especially after taking Hangzhou and declaring himself emperor, so amnesty is naturally out of the question now. Among these people, some have genuinely changed their minds and gone along willingly, while others simply no longer let their true thoughts show. But those above have always been wary of this group. It’s just that with the new state so freshly established and its foundations still unstable, they can’t purge everyone from top to bottom all at once right from the start — but for over a month now, the rumors about this have been running hot, and quite a few people, big and small, have been killed over matters like this. My brother says that with Marshal Li Tianrun coming back this time, he might be planning something big, so I’m a little worried you might get caught up in it, Liheng…”
“Your brother… your second brother?”
“My eldest brother. His name is Shuwang… oh, you’ve met him once, Liheng.”
“…Ah.”
……
As dusk settled in, Lou Shuwan left the small courtyard on Fine Willow Street where Ning Yi lived, climbed into her carriage, and, amid the coming and going of people on the road, the carriage headed off toward a neighboring street in the light of the setting sun, before finally disappearing from view. Back in the courtyard, Xiao Chan cleared away the tea things, chatting with Ning Yi under the eaves of the corridor; Ning Yi laughed and answered a few words, occasionally waving a hand and drawing circles in the air, which set Xiao Chan laughing. After a while like this, Ning Yi picked up a few documents and passed through the clinic via the courtyard’s side door, heading toward the main compound of the Overlord Blade Camp.
Classes at Wenlie Academy had already let out at noon; without the chattering children around, everything felt calm and unhurried in the magnificent light of dusk. The road from here to the main compound passed through a series of courtyards, already filled with residents — though at this hour, mostly women and children, along with some Overlord Blade Camp members already off work. Some knew Ning Yi and waved a greeting; some children, spotting him, came over to bow and chattered away.
The children knew him as their teacher, but for the most part, they simply liked him — mainly because, since Ning Yi’s arrival, they’d had many more stories to listen to. Some he told casually when he had nothing to do; others he told in class, which then spread by word of mouth. In any case, everyone had come to know him as someone with a head full of interesting stories.
In his past life, managing countless matters, he had never been a lighthearted or playful person — he certainly had a sense of humor, but its bent tended toward the dark and layered. He never would have guessed that here, he’d become someone so beloved by so many children. He didn’t consider himself fond of being a teacher, but he found himself genuinely interested in the strange changes that occurred in others once they’d come under his influence. Based on certain novels he’d read in his past life, it was usually characters cast as great villains who took this kind of perverse delight in such things.
Sometimes, thinking it over, he realized his current situation was already precarious enough — he really shouldn’t be indulging in an illusion so at odds with his position…
By now, his daily trips to the main residence of the Overlord Blade Camp had become second nature. By the time he finished handling matters and returned, it was already dark; lights came alive throughout the courtyards, the smell of cooking wafted from every household, clothes hung out to dry framed each courtyard, and children ran about — quite reminiscent of the atmosphere of an ancient farming village. Many households set up tables in their courtyards, inviting a friend or two over to chat and eat and drink. Ning Yi was often invited too, mostly by Liu Tiannan and others like him — he was, after all, the Overlord Blade Camp’s chief steward, and had grown close with Ning Yi through frequent dealings. Some of the men close to Liu Dabiao had also, through familiarity, found him easy to get along with.
“Marshal Li is coming back, and Hangzhou’s likely to be uneasy for a while. You know how it is, Liheng — go out as little as possible. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to send word to Xiao Sha or A’Chang, and have more people escort you. Safety first.”
Having sent his daughter to let Xiao Chan know Ning Yi wouldn’t be home for dinner, Liu Tiannan invited Ning Yi to sit; five others were already gathered in the courtyard — Du Sha and A’Chang, the two men known as “kill and pay with your life” from Liu Dabiao’s inner circle, Chen Fan, An Xifu, whom he’d met once or twice, and one other, a deputy under Liu Tiannan named Liu Shuangmu, whom Ning Yi knew but not well.
Nodding a greeting to the group, Ning Yi smiled and sat down, taking the cup of wine Liu Tiannan handed him. “I hear the Marshal is a steady, seasoned man — surely he wouldn’t go out of his way over someone as insignificant as me?”
Liu Tiannan shook his head. “That’s hard to say. What worries me is if he comes with the whole tide behind him.”
“If he comes with the whole tide behind him, he wouldn’t move against me quietly — everyone would know in advance.”
The two exchanged a few more words, and Liu Shuangmu, sitting to the side, frowned. “What tide?”
“The great purge that’s about to happen.”
“Mr. Ning… don’t you usually stay out of outside affairs…?” Liu Shuangmu asked, puzzled. “How do you know about this?”
Regarding the possible chain of events that Li Tianrun’s return to the city might set off, Liu Shuangmu clearly understood the general shape of it — his confusion was obviously not about what might happen, but about how Ning Yi knew. Liu Tiannan patted his shoulder, and Ning Yi glanced at him too. “Lately, quite a few of the businesses and connections within the manor have shifted around. Xiao Jinjian, Guo Yan, and people like that have always leaned toward the amnesty faction. The news of the Marshal’s return isn’t being kept very tightly under wraps either — combined with the situation up north, it’s not hard to guess… after all, the numbers don’t lie.”
Chen Fan drained a cup of wine and shrugged. “Don’t overthink it. Since this guy’s caught up in it, there’s no hiding things from him anyway. Either get mentally prepared, or hey, Shuangmu, why don’t you just take him out?”
Ning Yi laughed. “Why hasn’t the government issued an order yet to hang all the unemployed vagrants?” Ever since giving up his position as city security chief, Chen Fan was basically no different from an unemployed vagrant himself.
An Xifu listened for a while, then asked, “What does Mr. Ning make of the war in the north?”
The two hadn’t had much contact, but they had crossed paths once before in Huzhou. Ning Yi glanced at him. “I can’t guess much either. Jiaxing can’t be taken, that much is certain, right?”
He said it lightly, but Liu Tiannan showed no hesitation and nodded. “Right. Tong Guan led his troops there, and the siege has been lifted.”
“Fang Qifo probably doesn’t want to come back. The harvest came in during the seventh and eighth months, and the land between Hangzhou and Jiaxing has always been a land of fish and rice. As the saying goes, an army doesn’t move without provisions going first — whatever can be gathered, they’ll gather; whatever can’t, naturally gets burned. Tong Guan’s army is large, and the logistical demands on his supply lines are heavy. Over there… they’re probably planning to hold the city and fight it out. Isn’t that about right?”
No one spoke up this time. Ning Yi smiled. “Having just brought in the harvest, if Hangzhou’s walls hold, they can hold out a very long time. With the uprising, the enthronement, and a proper title now, more and more people will come flocking here hoping to make their name. Even if it doesn’t lift the siege of Hangzhou, as long as this place holds, the pressure on the imperial court from outside will only keep growing. Add to that — the Jin and Liao states in the north have already gone to war, and the Wu court will need to send troops north as well. Pinning down a hundred and fifty thousand troops here in Jiangnan, weighed against everything else, could well… drag the imperial court down. That’s about as much as I can guess.”
Ning Yi thought a moment more. “When the new Yongle court was first established, they couldn’t very well start executing people right away and throw everyone into a panic. But now that they’re preparing to hold the city and clear the countryside around it, whether the people inside the city can pull together as one has become the most important issue. I hear the Marshal is a steady man — bringing his troops back to purge a few will help settle things down in Hangzhou more effectively. Political struggle, in other words — more or less like that.”
What Ning Yi was now handling within the Overlord Blade Camp was strictly internal affairs; anything relating to core secrets or the war up north had already been filtered out from what reached him. This was exactly why Liu Shuangmu had found it so surprising. Once he finished speaking, the group fell into something of a silence. Chen Fan, probably the one who best understood Fang Qifo’s thinking, frowned and asked, “Is it actually possible?” — meaning, of course, the goal of dragging down the imperial court.
Ning Yi laughed. “We’re all just talking strategy on paper here, speculating for fun — I’m quite good at that. If you want to take it as gospel truth… then I really can’t say. Nothing in this world follows a fixed formula. There’s a saying — build the walls high, stockpile the grain, and delay claiming kingship — but here, you’ve all rushed to declare an emperor already, and no doubt you have your own reasons for that. Whether it succeeds is always something that can only be determined through actual execution.”
The group exchanged glances, and after a moment, Liu Tiannan said, “Build the walls high, stockpile the grain, delay claiming kingship — that’s quite a sound piece of advice. I wonder who said it first…”
Ning Yi said, “Han Xin said it to Liu Bang.”
He was, at that point, talking with Chen Fan about a poetry gathering they were to attend the next day. In truth, Ning Yi had already had a second meeting a few days earlier with a spy named Wenren Buer, sent by Old Master Qin, and this was the arranged location for their third meeting — so, to lay the groundwork in front of Liu Tiannan and the others, he simply said Lou Shuwan had invited him along. In reality, it was Ning Yi who had brought up the gathering today, and Lou Shuwan happened to mention she’d received an invitation as well. At the time, no one paid much mind to that simple bit of history, until the group began remarking, “So Han Xin actually said that…” — only then did Ning Yi stop and think it over seriously.
“Er… it seems… maybe… yes…”
Long afterward, the saying “build the walls high, stockpile the grain, delay claiming kingship” spread far and wide through many strange channels, with most people believing it had come from Ning Yi himself or one of his advisors; as for his repeated claims that it was something Han Xin had said, this remained impossible to verify even years later…
Of course, Ning Yi had no idea of any of this at the time. Amid the easy laughter and chatter with the group, his mind was already on the poetry gathering the next day. As the company continued to talk and laugh among friends, night deepened around them.