The ship sailed smoothly, the weather fair and the wind gentle. Past Hongze Lake, they continued north along the Bian River.

As part of the Tongji Canal section of the Sui-Tang Grand Canal, this stretch would no longer exist in later ages, but at this time it still connected the north-south waterways and remained one of the most important routes of the Grand Canal. Though it was currently flood season, the current on the canal wasn’t especially fast, and fishing boats and merchant vessels occasionally drifted past in view.

In the cabin room, several pairs of eyes darted about, creating a rather odd, wide-eyed sort of atmosphere. The cabin was fairly spacious, but a group of three women and one man made for a peculiar sight for the moment. As for Ning Yi’s suggestion that everyone sit together during the day and, incidentally, “get some work done,” Yun Zhu, who had known about it since the night before, naturally had nothing to say. But when Ning Yi introduced Xiao Chan to the other two, both Xiao Chan and Jin’er’s expressions turned to something like shock — they had already conspired privately beforehand, and now found themselves unsure how to greet each other naturally. As Ning Yi sat writing at the desk by the window, Xiao Chan and Jin’er sat blankly to one side, watching the scene and only able to exchange glances.

Ning Yi had said a few nonsensical things about how it was quite the coincidence that everyone should meet like this, truly a matter of fate — naturally, no one believed a word of it. But whether they believed it or not wasn’t really the point at the moment. Based on what they knew of Ning Yi, they had assumed he’d keep this matter hidden from both sides as long as there was no need to reveal it. Jin’er, and perhaps even Xiao Chan, had secretly harbored a small wish to give him a fright with this, and now they had no idea what he was really up to.

As for Yun Zhu, sitting there holding a book, she naturally couldn’t focus on reading either at first, her eyes darting around, wanting to laugh but not daring to. Ning Yi, having written for a while, looked up at them, then propped both hands on the desk, resting his chin on them. “What’s wrong?”

Despite their relatively mature dispositions, the four people in the room were all, after all, only in their early twenties, still displaying a youthful liveliness. Ning Yi’s expression was amused, and Jin’er abruptly stood up. “I’ll go make tea.” With that, she turned and headed outside. Xiao Chan hastily raised her hand too. “I— I’ll go help…”

The two of them hurried out in a fluster. Ning Yi rubbed his earlobe, and when his gaze turned to Yun Zhu, he found her peeking out from behind her book. The moment their eyes met, she quickly lowered it again. Only after a moment did she laugh and simply set the book down. “I— I’ll go help too…”

“Does making a pot of tea really need three people?” Ning Yi laughed. Yun Zhu lowered her head slightly, then glanced at him. “Then I’ll go to the privy…” Had this been before she and Ning Yi had become intimate, she probably wouldn’t have said something like that; now, her face merely flushed slightly, and she pressed her lips together and went out, closing the door behind her. Ning Yi shook his head with a wry laugh.

Out in the ship’s corridor, Jin’er and Xiao Chan were indeed whispering to each other. Jin’er pinched her chin, looking thoughtful. “Something’s off…” Xiao Chan clenched her fists, looking troubled. “What should we do? Could the young master have found out?”

“Found out what?” Jin’er rolled her eyes at her. “How could he possibly?”

“The young master is very impressive.”

“How impressive could he be? He’s not some kind of immortal.” Jin’er pouted, then turned to look at Xiao Chan. “Besides… you’re already his woman now, why are you still afraid of him?”

“I— I’m not afraid… I’m afraid of upsetting my husband, I don’t want to make him angry.”

“Has he ever gotten angry with you?”

“No, but I still don’t want to make my husband angry… we maids need to know our place…”

“You’re not a maid anymore!”

“It’s the same thing… that way my husband will like me more…”

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Jin’er glared at her. “You’re his woman — you should act like a proper little vixen, get him wrapped around your finger. I told you yesterday, I even taught you, you need to…”

She’d apparently spent the past couple of days filling Xiao Chan’s head with all sorts of strange notions, and Xiao Chan, blushing, just looked at her. Seeing that the girl was a lost cause, Jin’er grew a little discouraged. When Yun Zhu came over from the other side, Jin’er frowned. “Sister Yun Zhu, what’s going on with him?”

“I don’t know either.” Yun Zhu herself was puzzled.

“How could he do this? Sister Yun Zhu, you… and Xiao Chan too… how could he let you two meet like this, it’s too reckless…”

They hadn’t really intended anything scandalous — at most they’d thought Ning Yi wouldn’t dare let them meet, and had earlier entertained the idea of teasing him about it, wanting to see how he’d squirm trying to explain things once they eventually did meet. The one who’d come up with this idea, naturally, was Jin’er, who loved stirring up mischief.

What might have been an entirely indefensible situation for the man a thousand years later wasn’t really such a big deal in this era, especially after what they’d all been through during the Su family massacre — both sides had already come to accept certain things as unchangeable facts. So now, if anything, it was they who found themselves at a loss.

Of course, being at a loss didn’t mean they could actually do anything about it at the moment. The group made tea and went back in, each putting on a show of normalcy. But Ning Yi, whose temperament around the women in his life was decent enough, was hardly some kind of monster to be feared, and after a period of awkwardness on his account, a certain shared sense of camaraderie between the two women actually made things easier going forward. Whatever their private feelings toward each other had been before, in front of Ning Yi they still maintained something of the distinction between principal wife and outside mistress, each needing to compete a little for his favor.

And so, by that afternoon, Ning Yi was bent over his writing, Yun Zhu sat reading, both having settled into a comfortable rhythm. Xiao Chan made tea and handled small chores, then took up an embroidery hoop and sat embroidering. But after a while, the restless Jin’er dragged her off to whisper together, then pulled her into the next room for some kind of mischief.

When Ning Yi occasionally had a free moment, he’d listen — the sounds of Jin’er and Xiao Chan’s voices were faint, muffled by the cabin wall, though he could occasionally catch Xiao Chan crying out “Ah, ah” and other scattered sounds that seemed to suggest Yuan Jin’er was teaching her to bend backward or something of the sort. Honestly speaking, though usually far too playful and carefree to maintain much of an image in front of Ning Yi, Jin’er, having earned the reputation of a reigning beauty, really was a stunningly beautiful long-legged beauty, and an excellent dancer besides. But after listening a while longer, Ning Yi naturally realized this wasn’t dance instruction at all, and felt momentarily at a loss for words. Yun Zhu, sitting on the edge of the bed, likewise covered her mouth with her book, watching him with amused eyes.

After being tormented for a while, Xiao Chan, unable to bear the humiliation any longer, fled the room. Jin’er came back in stretching, humming a tune, thoroughly pleased with herself. Ning Yi guessed that what she was likely thinking was that once she’d taught Xiao Chan the arts of the bedchamber, Xiao Chan could compete for favor with Tan’er and stir up domestic chaos within the Su household.

Not long after, Xiao Chan came back in again. The great ship sailed steadily onward, sunlight streaming in through the open window. Ning Yi occasionally wrote, occasionally thought, occasionally exchanged a few words with the others. Yun Zhu was reading a romance novel popular at the time, and whenever she came across a poem within it, if the mood struck her, she would sing it softly aloud. The verses themselves were fairly ordinary, but under Yun Zhu’s voice, they became melodious and touching, and Xiao Chan would sometimes listen, utterly absorbed.

Toward evening, the fleet stopped by the bank near a small town, and Wenren Buer and the others came to find him. They walked along the stone beach near the docks, discussing the situation aboard the main ship. Sometimes Ning Yi would glance over toward the main ship and catch sight of the little county princess Zhou Pei looking down from the deck, her expression composed, her gaze steady and natural, though whenever her eyes swept past Ning Yi, they clearly carried the sense of someone thoroughly immersed in playing the role of a master spy.

As the sun set, the docks and fleet again grew lively, the afterglow of the great victory over the bandits still lingering, with singing and celebration continuing into the night. Occasionally, song drifted over from the main ship amid clinking cups and general merriment — though vigilance hadn’t slackened, Chen Jingui had by now clearly been thoroughly flattered into a pleasant daze.

Winning the favor of so many imperial and official descendants, with even Zhou Pei willing to put in a good word for him, meant that once they reached the capital, promotion and fortune would surely be in store for him.

Nothing further happened that night, and by dawn the fleet set off once more. Over the following days, the fleet traveled safely through most of the remaining distance. Each day seemed leisurely with little happening; Ning Yi mostly spent his time together with Yun Zhu, Jin’er, and Xiao Chan, while each of the women kept themselves occupied with their own pursuits. Occasionally he’d bring out songs he knew to show off, only to be met, as usual, with no appreciation at all — Jin’er sticking her tongue out and making all sorts of faces, Xiao Chan listening carefully, and Yun Zhu offering to help revise them.

Still, spending every day on the ship inevitably grew rather dull. Yun Zhu’s temperament was calm and easygoing, and Xiao Chan, long accustomed to life as a maid, adapted easily enough in most situations, but Jin’er occasionally grew restless, which was mostly Ning Yi’s doing.

In truth, if she’d been traveling only with Yun Zhu, Jin’er probably wouldn’t have felt restless at all. It was only once Ning Yi and Xiao Chan entered the picture that Ning Yi inevitably became the center of everyone’s attention. In the past, she hadn’t minded this much, but now, with Ning Yi sharing physical intimacy with both Yun Zhu and Xiao Chan, the occasional casual closeness between them left her feeling excluded, as it were. Unable to properly vent her frustration, and occasionally losing an argument with Ning Yi, she’d end up sulking a little. At such times Yun Zhu would have to comfort her, or Ning Yi himself would come out and tease her a bit more, and she wasn’t one to hold a grudge — sometimes, in the middle of arguing, she’d end up laughing despite herself.

That evening, as they reached the borders of Xuzhou and the fleet pulled in to dock, the sky had turned overcast and the wind picked up, suggesting rain wasn’t far off. Jin’er had gotten into another spat with Ning Yi and, still in a huff, went ashore afterward to clear her head in the wind. Walking along the riverbank near the docks, she heard the voices of a man and woman talking up ahead.

Walking ahead were a man and a woman, the woman accompanied by maids and attendants. The two were chatting, the man seeming to be discussing some story of officials being punished for corruption somewhere. He spoke with wit, and Jin’er glanced over — she recognized both of them roughly. The woman with two attendants was the one reputed to be the capital’s reigning beauty, Li Shishi; as for the man, tall and slender, his profile handsome even from behind, this was the young man from the main ship named Wang Xian. These past few days, Ning Yi had mentioned this person aboard the main ship — in Ning Yi’s words, the man was quite the handsome fellow, comparable to that very, very beautiful young man she’d once seen in Yangzhou; Ning Yi had even teased that if she saw him, she might well be smitten.

Because of this, she had once gone to take a distant look at the man, and now, hearing his voice, she found she didn’t dislike it at all. He was discussing the matter of punishing corrupt officials, speaking with great wit, and when he finished, Li Shishi beside him asked softly, “So it seems the good fellows of Liangshan aren’t simply indiscriminate killers after all.”

Wang Xian said, “That, I couldn’t really say for certain — after all, they are in rebellion. But in times like these, injustice is everywhere, and out in the countryside, people really do say that the heroes of Liangshan act on Heaven’s behalf, out of loyalty and righteousness…”

“I see…”

Li Shishi nodded. Jin’er, walking behind them, suddenly felt a surge of anger. She’d heard before that Li Shishi and Ning Yi were old acquaintances. Ning Yi’s whole family had nearly been wiped out, and here she was, saying Liangshan were good people. Unable to contain her irritation, she called out at once, “That’s utter nonsense, complete rubbish! What gives you the right to say the people of Liangshan are good people!”

At her outburst, the two ahead turned around. Wang Xian blinked in surprise, then cupped his hands with considerable grace. “And you are, miss…?”

“None of your business who I am! What gives you the right to say the people of Liangshan are good!”

“I was only repeating hearsay, miss, if there’s something…”

“Hearsay is exactly…”

As Jin’er continued shouting, a figure suddenly strode over and wrapped an arm firmly around her. “Jin’er, what are you doing? Don’t you know Yun Zhu’s been looking for you forever, and here you are picking fights with people.”

The one who’d suddenly appeared was none other than Ning Yi, and in that instant he had all but pulled Yuan Jin’er into a full embrace. Jin’er’s body went rigid, stunned for a moment; Li Shishi, too, froze in surprise. Whatever the circumstances, this gesture was undeniably far too intimate. But Jin’er, still furious, struggled against him, pointing. “They’re saying Liangshan are good people, you… mmph—let go of me—”

Before she could finish, Ning Yi had already grabbed both her cheeks and pulled them apart with force. “You’re not a child anymore, always arguing with people all day long — could you act a little more like a proper young lady and come home with me!” He wrapped his arm around her and started walking. Only now did Jin’er feel a wave of embarrassment, her whole body burning, not knowing where to put her hands as Ning Yi walked off with her tucked against him like a lump of dough. After a few steps, he turned back and said with a smile, “Sorry about that, sorry — the child doesn’t know any better, still throwing tantrums at people. Please, carry on, carry on, just pretend you never saw us, we’ll be going now, farewell.”

With that, he tightened his grip on Jin’er again and headed back the way they’d come. Wang Xian watched the two of them disappear, then said with a smile, “What strange people.” Beside him, Li Shishi frowned and thought for a moment, but in the end said nothing.

Embracing Jin’er like that in front of everyone was admittedly going a bit far, but Ning Yi had no other option at the time. He escorted her back and calmed her down somewhat before handing her off to Yun Zhu to smooth things over. He then met briefly with Wenren Buer. That evening, the small dock at the Xuzhou border was quite lively. Since Chen Jingui’s naval forces had suffered relatively heavy casualties during the battle at Hongze Lake, reinforcements had been requested along the way, and by this point a unit of over a hundred troops arrived to join them, completing the handover and reporting procedures. With this, security was even further assured, and that evening, as usual, another celebratory banquet was held. Before long, a heavy rainstorm began to fall.

That night, the entire dock slept quite soundly. Now and then, someone struck unconscious made a muffled thud, but the sound was swallowed by the sudden downpour. It wasn’t until past midnight, when the rain finally eased, that the first cry of alarm went up. By the time most people had shaken off the effects of the knockout drug, they discovered that one of the four remaining ships had been silently sailed away amid the heavy rain and darkness by that newly arrived group of over a hundred “naval soldiers.”

And as it turned out, after the incident at Hongze Lake, the genuine birthday tribute had, in fact, been transferred onto that very ship — which had now been carried off in its entirety…