In the end, Ning Yi did not knock and go in while Xiao Chan and Yun Zhu were meeting—he was rather curious, in fact, to see what sort of mischief the two of them might get up to on their own.
By the time he left the large ship where Yun Zhu and Jin’er were staying, the sky had already turned overcast, and below, the lantern-lit opera and acrobatics performances were still going strong. Ning Yi stood off to the side and watched for a while. Before long, the sound of an argument reached him—not far off, along the railing of the main ship, Deputy Commander Chen and the steward from the Consort’s estate were making their way down while arguing with each other.
“…The young lord still hasn’t been found, and that lot of constables in Xuyi can’t be relied upon. Master He, the safety of this journey north is my responsibility, Chen Jingui’s. If we run behind schedule, naturally I’ll be the one to answer for it. There’s no urgent rush as it is—why can’t we stay another day or two…”
“…If the bandits’ true aim really is the birthday tribute, can you bear the consequences if something goes wrong! They mean to keep us tied down here, dragging things out, wearing down our manpower with all this uncertainty—there’s clearly some scheme behind it. Commander Chen, are you really going to let these bandits lead you around by the nose… Once the goods reach Huai’an, everything becomes manageable. You’re welcome to stay here a whole month after that, for all I care…”
“What bandits would possibly be so bold, Master He? When has this shipping route ever seen bandits daring enough to rob the birthday tribute! You’re merely speculating…”
“I need this to go off without a hitch!”
“If you send one or two ships ahead now, and our forces end up split, wouldn’t that play right into the bandits’ hands!”
“You yourself said the bandits wouldn’t dare attack outright, Commander Chen, and I’ve asked around as well. If someone truly does have designs on the birthday tribute, whatever scheme they have in mind surely wouldn’t be a direct assault. Either way, I’m simply not at ease leaving the goods sitting here in Xuyi like this… I want one ship, one contingent of soldiers, and I can muster additional men from our own side here besides—half a day, and we’ll be in Huai’an! Once there, if you need to search for young Lord Lu, I’ll give you my full cooperation on my return… what more do you want from me…”
The two of them went back and forth without pause. Chen Jingui, understandably, had no wish to see his forces divided at a moment like this—over the course of this extra day, he’d already begun to sense that the bandits who’d abducted young Lord Lu seemed to be deliberately leading them around in circles, keeping their attention scattered elsewhere. But to conclude from this alone that someone was after the birthday tribute still seemed, to him, rather excessive worry.
As for Steward He, so long as he could be certain the opposing side wouldn’t resort to outright force, once the goods reached Huai’an, everything would rest easy from there on. The authorities there understood the stakes involved and would surely assign proper guard over the shipment, and even should someone still have designs on it, a great city like Huai’an offered far more resources to respond with. The Princess Chengguo’s business dealings reached across the whole region, and here in Xuyi, calling in a few favors could easily mobilize several dozen to a hundred men to accompany the ships onward to Huai’an—not especially strong fighters, perhaps, but at least a show of numbers.
As he passed by, Steward He’s gaze briefly met Ning Yi’s, before he continued on, still arguing with Chen Jingui as they walked off.
That night, around the hour of Hai, the boatmen and laborers aboard the main ship stirred into action, carrying and hauling one large crate after another over to the other ship at the rear, all under the direction of Steward He. In the end, Chen Jingui evidently found himself unable to hold his ground against him, and had no choice but to agree to the plan. Most of those gathered at the docks below watching the performance were the sons of officials and nobles of some standing, and paid little mind to any of this, laughing and enjoying the spectacle instead.
But partway through the process of moving the crates, rain began to fall from the sky. It was light at first, but before long, chaos broke out below. Ning Yi stood on the deck watching everyone scurrying about below, the servants in a flustered rush, finding the scene rather amusing. Though it wasn’t yet midnight, the hour had grown late regardless, and the young nobles below began gathering their carriages and horses to head to nearby inns for the night. After this flurry of activity finally settled down, those moving the crates continued their work, while the opera troupes, acrobats, and staff summoned from local restaurants and inns below began dismantling the stage, clearing away tables and chairs to close up for the night.
Xiao Chan, over on the other ship, peered out for a while before finally hurrying back under an umbrella through the rain. Ning Yi, laughing, hid himself away, then returned to his cabin and had a servant bring hot water for a bath. By now, many people were moving things back and forth through the corridors, quite a lively scene. Once Xiao Chan returned, Ning Yi pulled her along with him—though she insisted she needed to tidy things up first before coming to wash his back, once Ning Yi made up his mind about something, she’d never really been able to refuse him. Seeing there was no getting out of it, she lowered her head and, while Ning Yi undressed by the bathtub, quietly slipped off her own clothes as well. Though she was already Ning Yi’s concubine, in her own heart she probably still thought of herself as little more than a maidservant—having Ning Yi undress her would, of course, have been perfectly proper, but undressing herself, she felt, was preferable to making her husband do the work.
What followed filled the room with warmth and tenderness, needing no further telling. Xiao Chan said little at such times, held in Ning Yi’s arms, her bare body pressed close to his, a thin blanket draped over them both. The two of them listened as the sounds outside gradually died down, the ship rocking gently on the waves, and just as the crates were nearly all moved, a soft, light footstep paused briefly outside their door, then, after a moment, moved on to the next room over—it was the young county princess, only just returning, who must have assumed Ning Yi and Xiao Chan had already gone to sleep, or were engaged in something not fit to interrupt, and so thought better of disturbing them.
Amid the sound of the rain, Ning Yi and Xiao Chan drifted into deep sleep. But past midnight, the sound of footsteps stirred once more on the ship, along with a burst of dense, lively chatter. It was some of the young noblemen returning from the brothels, having gone out but not stayed the night. Ning Yi woke briefly and heard them outside, chattering away in high spirits—some of them evidently drunk, reciting poetry and laughing loudly, apparently having had quite the eventful evening.
“…’Kunlun jade shatters, phoenixes cry out; lotus blossoms weep dew, orchids smile in delight. Before the twelve gates, cold light melts away; the twenty-three strings stir the Purple Emperor…’ Marvelous, marvelous—only the ghost-genius Li Changji could have written a poem to capture it so… one hand upon the harp, enough to startle spirits and gods…”
“Even in a small place like Xuyi… this will surely become a tale worth telling for years to come…”
“It’s precisely the small places that carry the true spirit… somewhere like Huai’an, Jiangning, or the eastern capital, lively as they are, it’s all just wine and meat and noise, no wonder…”
“…The person who traded songs and verses with her today was quite something himself…”
The group chattered on noisily, some of them even bursting into poetic inspiration, wanting to compose verses on the spot. Ning Yi heard a voice call out from near the neighboring window: “It’s the middle of the night—are you all going to sleep or not.” The voice wasn’t loud, low and calm, but whoever had been passing by the window must have had a bit too much to drink, because the group immediately began shouting: “Don’t pull me, who is it, who’s there…”
“Do you know who your big brother is…”
“Come out, come out, what did you just say…”
They began pounding on the window next door. The young princess, rustling as she pulled on some clothes, opened the window. A moment of confusion followed—someone recognized her, someone else babbled incoherently. The window slammed shut again with a bang. Ning Yi, finding it all rather funny, drifted back to sleep with Xiao Chan in his arms.
Perhaps because of all this commotion, Zhou Pei didn’t wake from bed until quite late the next morning. Outside, the rain was still falling, and since she’d revealed her identity the day before, a maid from an imperial household was already waiting outside her door that morning. She washed up in a daze, and when she finally stepped out onto the deck for some fresh air, she saw only a hazy drizzle—the large ship that had been anchored behind them was nowhere to be seen.
Zhuo Yunfeng came over to greet her at that moment, and she stood there for a moment, stunned, suddenly remembering what she’d meant to tell Ning Yi the day before. She asked Zhuo Yunfeng how long ago that ship had left, and learning it had only just departed, hurried off toward the cabins at once: “Don’t follow me, I have important business.”
The girl was dressed today in fine, expensive robes, and she lifted her skirts and ran quite quickly. Zhuo Yunfeng followed behind her. “What’s going on? Have you had breakfast yet?”
“Don’t follow me!” The girl ahead, one hand still lifting her skirt hem, suddenly spun around and stopped, pointing at him. Zhuo Yunfeng froze for a moment, then watched as she ran off toward Ning Yi’s room.
Ning Yi was still in his room sorting through some of his writing at that moment, and welcomed Zhou Pei in without much ceremony. “Had breakfast yet? Help yourself to tea. What’s got you in such a rush?”
“Teacher, how could you possibly think it’d be fine to just let that ship go ahead on its own?”
“Hm?” Ning Yi, one hand holding a brush, the other waving a freshly finished sheet of rice paper to dry it, looked at her with some puzzlement.
“The situation across the realm right now isn’t what it usually is. In the past, maybe no one would have dared take such a reckless risk against the birthday tribute, but that’s not necessarily true anymore. I know Steward He rounded up over a hundred shop hands, guards, or yamen runners to go along—that’s as many people as the Princess’s estate could mobilize on short notice around here, but what good is sheer numbers? If it comes down to fighting on the water, they’ll only end up dragging everyone else down!”
Zhou Pei walked over, planted both hands on the table, her almond eyes wide open, looking at him with earnest intensity. Ning Yi looked at the girl’s serious expression and gradually broke into a smile, then turned back and dipped his brush in ink to keep writing. “So you think someone might rob the birthday tribute too, then?”
“I… I only think it’s possible because you all thought it was possible…” Zhou Pei paused, looking at him for a moment. “I wanted to come tell you yesterday already—even if you didn’t want anything to happen to the tribute, you shouldn’t have split off just one ship to go to Huai’an ahead of the rest. What good does having lots of people do, if someone really means to rob it…”
“Steward He doesn’t want to be led around by the bandits’ timing, is all. The ship’s fast—half a day and they’ll be in Huai’an, before anyone can react.”
Ning Yi answered offhandedly. Zhou Pei thought it over. “What if they’d already prepared for exactly that? What if someone’s already been watching this whole time!”
“Watching how, exactly?”
“There are plenty of ways! Look at yesterday—they invited all those opera performers and acrobats down there, laid out that whole feast with all that food—wouldn’t it be easy enough for someone to slip in among the crowd!” The young princess, mulling this over, gradually grew visibly troubled. “These people—at a time like this, all they’re good for is making a mess of things. If it were up to me, I’d have given every one of them a good scolding. Teacher…”
Just as she was speaking, a low knock sounded at the door. Ning Yi rose and walked toward it, smiling and pointing at Zhou Pei. “You make a good point.” He opened the door, and Zhou Pei peeked around to look, only to grow suddenly puzzled, because standing outside was Chen Jingui. The deputy commander exchanged a few quiet words with Ning Yi, his gaze drifting into the room, and upon spotting Zhou Pei, his expression immediately turned complicated and evasive. He then handed Ning Yi a card with a smile and hurried off. Ning Yi looked the card over, then turned back. “You haven’t had breakfast yet, have you? Go eat something—I’ve got somewhere to be.”
Ning Yi picked up the umbrella by the door, and Zhou Pei, rather puzzled, hurried out after him. Once Ning Yi had locked the door and started walking, she followed right along. “What’s going on, what’s going on? Teacher, aren’t you and this Deputy Commander Chen strangers to each other? Steward He’s sure to listen to you, and this Deputy Commander Chen should practically be your rival.”
Ning Yi laughed, and gave her a light tap on the head with the card in his hand. “You’re so young, why are you thinking about all this so much?”
Zhou Pei clutched her head, her face flushing at once, standing rooted to the spot. Ning Yi walked a few more steps, then turned back. “Though—you’re pretty sharp, actually.” Zhou Pei hurriedly caught up again, her flushed face now tinged with excitement, practically bouncing as she walked. “So what’s actually going on, then?” She’d always wanted to accomplish something great, and now, finally sensing herself caught up in the midst of real intrigue and scheming, she could hardly contain her excitement.
“Go eat something first, I’ll tell you later.” Ning Yi said, and Zhou Pei nodded furiously like a chick pecking at grain, running off to get breakfast. Not far off, Zhuo Yunfeng watched the lively young princess with a furrowed brow, scratching his head in frustration. Seeing Ning Yi heading outside, he followed after him as well.
It was still raining outside. He followed Ning Yi to the ship’s railing and watched him descend the gangway under an umbrella, then meet, near the gate by the docks, with two women wearing wide-brimmed hats and veils. The woman in the lead looked somehow familiar; Zhuo Yunfeng studied her for a long moment before finally recognizing her—it had to be Li Shishi, the celebrated beauty who’d been staying temporarily at the West Garden these past couple of days. She was the capital’s foremost courtesan, someone Zhuo Yunfeng himself greatly admired. He’d caught a glimpse of her the previous evening at the West Garden, and had heard that the night before, this Miss Li had performed a piece on the harp, clear and ethereal, deeply moving—and afterward, a certain man had joined her in song, astonishing the whole gathering, a tale already being passed around as a memorable episode. Only, Zhuo Yunfeng had needed to stay with Zhou Pei and hadn’t been able to attend, and upon hearing about it this morning, felt considerable regret at having missed it.
Though he’d seen this Miss Li the day before, she’d only recently made her appearance, and only a few friends who’d already known her back in Jiangning had exchanged more than a few words with her. Still, this Li Shishi carried herself with a striking, admirable elegance—yet he’d never have imagined she would come out like this to meet Ning Yi alone. Thinking it over, Zhuo Yunfeng came to understand it easily enough—Ning Yi wrote fine poetry, after all, the foremost talent of Jiangning, and the old pairing of talented scholar and beautiful courtesan was exactly the sort of thing this was—no doubt that was why this Li Shishi had come to see him.
Watching Li Shishi, and then thinking of the young princess, he couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy. But what good was fine poetry, in the end—most famous courtesans ultimately married into wealthy, powerful families regardless. If only he had some opportunity to show himself surpassing Ning Yi in some other respect—he knew well enough that he couldn’t outdo the man in poetry for now, and to try and fail would only invite ridicule. If only he could use his rank and privilege to press down on him in ordinary times, let others see that this fellow was, in the end, nothing more than a son-in-law of no standing at all—but with Zhou Pei right there, he knew perfectly well that rank alone couldn’t touch Ning Yi. The thought left him feeling rather bitter.
Meanwhile, the large ship continued forward through the wind and rain, escorted by several smaller boats, gradually drawing closer to the mouth of Hongze Lake. In the woods along the lake’s edge, several figures on horseback, wrapped in straw rain capes, watched from a distance.
“In weather like this, and after that steward and deputy commander had their falling out—guess they couldn’t save face any longer, heading to Huai’an even in the rain. Just as I said—even when the court has a few capable men among them, the moment they’re all gathered together, nothing ever gets done properly, hahaha… Come on, let’s follow them!”