The sun shone bright, and the flotilla sailed on through the slightly turbid river water. Along the banks, the yellow and green of the trees stood out with striking clarity in the summer light. Near Songzhou, this stretch of the canal, already close to Bianzhou, had grown quite prosperous — irrigated by the river, the sunlit fields stretched out in patches of rice paddy. On the official road running alongside the canal, carriages passed by from time to time.
After the incident of the Liangshan bandits coveting the birthday gifts, peace had returned to the flotilla. Though Chen Jingui and the others now kept a far tighter watch and patrol, the mood among those traveling north had, if anything, grown more harmonious. The young masters had stopped quarreling, the children had become easier to manage, and even Su Wenyu’s seasickness had gradually improved — likely all thanks to the pressure from outside.
Of the Liangshan prisoners originally captured, roughly half had escaped that day, and those who fled had, for the most part, lost their lives in the attempt. Only the remaining ten or twenty were not left to bake to death in the sun, but were instead handed over to the various interested parties to account for the affair. This was, after all, a matter of rebellion — the army needed some, the local officials needed some, the Three Judicial Offices in the capital had their own demands, and Chen Jingui had to keep a few for himself. All of it was for the sake of credit and merit; as for interrogation, there was likely little to be gotten out of them, and once the formalities were observed, most would simply be executed come autumn.
Ning Yi had originally spoken of breaking their legs and letting them bake to death alive, but in the end had given everyone face and made a “concession.” Chen Jingui was quite grateful for this. At first he had not thought much of this young scholar — though the Secret Investigation Bureau answered directly to Chancellor Qin, the demands placed on it from above were strict, and for the most part, in the execution of concrete matters, such an intelligence body only held the right to advise; Chen Jingui had no obligation to defer to them.
It was only after the affair at Hongze Lake that he had begun to take Wenren Buer seriously, though he still knew little of Ning Yi. But through the several incidents that followed — striking at Yan Qing aboard the ship, then using the birthday gifts as bait to win him back and instead capturing over forty Liangshan men — he had truly come to realize this fellow was no ordinary man. And by the end, when Ning Yi had, through a combination of strikes and feints, all but wiped out the entire Liangshan force, Chen Jingui found himself feeling a chill down his spine whenever he thought back on it.
This man truly held a blood feud with Liangshan, and once he set about avenging it, he handled these Liangshan killers from start to finish as though it were child’s play. Having captured so many of their men and won a great victory, he still was not satisfied, and the very next day baited them into total annihilation. When he had spoken earlier of simply hanging the prisoners, Chen Jingui had still hesitated somewhat — yet who could have known that that very night he would release them, only to have them all slaughtered in ambush, and by the next day it had all become perfectly justified. Truly clean and decisive work, without leaving a single loose end. It seemed the most ruthless people in this world really were these scholars — should he ever offend one, the outcome, he imagined, could well be guessed.
Of course, at this point among the flotilla, aside from the Secret Investigation Bureau, few actually knew the full inside story of the affair. Even though Ning Yi had once openly made his move against Yan Qing on the main ship, in the eyes of others, the one directing events had, from beginning to end, still appeared to be Chen Jingui. As for Zhou Pei, though she had once spoken of facing Fang La in Hangzhou, sparking a good deal of curiosity, most of that curiosity was directed at just how close Ning Yi and Zhou Pei’s relationship really was, and whether they themselves could afford to offend him — not that there was any particular need to.
As for the role Ning Yi had actually played in all this, in the eyes of most others, he was, at best, likely taken for some sort of advisor who had offered a bit of counsel — the type who stood at the boss’s side fanning himself and occasionally chiming in. There were plenty of second- and third-generation scions aboard the ships, and they had seen this type before. It was, after all, the most common role for scholars to play — some good, some bad, all mixed together.
Fortunately, Ning Yi was not staying aboard the main ship at this time, and so had little occasion to cross paths with most of the others. Li Shishi, though she had felt some curiosity about this old friend from childhood since that day, was, after all, a woman of the world — in a city as vast as the capital, there was no shortage of extraordinary people, and it was only because this sort of thing had happened to someone she had known since childhood that it struck her as remarkable. Much like Yu Hezhong or Chen Sifeng, men of only middling talent, in the circles Li Shishi moved in they would always seem somewhat out of their depth — but if one of them were, someday, to do something truly astonishing, however unlikely, it was not entirely beyond the realm of acceptance either.
She held such thoughts in mind, but over the following two days had little contact with Ning Yi. Aboard the ship, plenty of men vied to display their talents and curry favor with her, and she handled them all with practiced ease, occasionally passing the time with calligraphy or painting. When the ships came to dock and she and Ning Yi crossed paths, it went no further than an exchange of nods and greetings — no real chance for a deeper conversation. On the main ship, aside from her, the person who seemed to pay the most attention to Ning Yi was likely Zhuo Yunfeng, because once the young princess had openly acknowledged her master-disciple bond with Ning Yi, these past two days she had brazenly left the main ship and gone to stay on the ship crowded with tutors and accountants and their families, so as to make it easier for Ning Yi to instruct her in her studies.
Looking over from the main ship at this moment, at the stern of the large ship slightly behind and to the side, a group of people could be seen carrying on rather aimlessly.
The ones Ning Yi had rounded up were several children from that ship; they had found a large net aboard and were preparing to try their hand at fishing in the canal. The ship was rather too large to be well suited to fishing, but Ning Yi and the others had already spread the net out, tied ropes to its four corners, and suspended it from the stern using the loading crane normally used for cargo, in preparation for lowering it into the water — the idea being that after the ship sailed a while, pulling on two of the ropes might haul up some fish.
An enterprise this reckless had, naturally, been Ning Yi’s idea on a whim. Besides the children, Su Wenyu and Su Yanping were also lending a hand. Some of the children’s parents stood nearby watching, or helping out here and there — none of them were fishermen, all complete amateurs, but they all knew that Ning Yi held high status and considerable learning. The young princess, Zhou Pei, sat off to one side, watching with interest; her status was too exalted, and her upbringing too refined, for her to join in such foolishness herself. Xiao Chan came over now and then to help, and Yun Zhu occasionally came out to watch as well, amused.
Jin’er, who loved this sort of mischief, had not come out; she was lying on her bed in her room, watching the clouds. She was in a foul mood, because that other day Ning Yi had taken liberties with her — and though she understood afterward that it had been a matter of urgency, he had never given her an explanation since, which left her thoroughly annoyed. She had already prepared herself to have it out with him. But Ning Yi, perhaps because he knew this was not easy to explain, or perhaps because he did not think it necessary, had barely bothered her these past two days, leaving her with no outlet for her frustration, unable to voice it, and thoroughly displeased as a result. After all, this was not something she could easily bring up herself — she had no idea what she would even say. Was she supposed to say, “You said you’d give me an explanation that day”? Just thinking about it made her feel she was being far too shameless for a girl.
Of course she wasn’t expecting any sort of “explanation” — however he explained it, it would never quite settle the matter. But her not expecting anything was simply because she was magnanimous; the fact that he hadn’t said anything meant he simply wasn’t dependable! So Jin’er had decided.
Before long, the undependable Ning Yi got his comeuppance, because the net had been lowered too deep and had snagged on a rock on the riverbed. With the ship sailing north and the wind filling the sails with considerable force, Ning Yi and the others had at first thought they’d caught a big fish, and pulled hard on the rope. When he called out “Come help!” even Zhou Pei excitedly rushed over to pull on the rope — and then, all at once, the whole group of adults and children were dragged down flat onto the deck. Then, with the other two corners of the net still anchored, it pulled taut against the ship’s stern crane, which had never been properly secured in the first place, and with a great crash, the entire crane went straight over the side and into the river.
That crane was simply the wooden frame used for loading and unloading cargo at the docks, a simple winch mechanism — insignificant compared to the great ship itself, but necessary all the same. The commotion gave everyone nearby quite a fright, and the entire flotilla came to a halt because of it. Had this been caused by some ordinary tutor or accountant aboard the ship, they would likely have been scolded half to death — but once word of who was responsible made its way around, those spreading the news mostly fell silent instead.
Chen Jingui gave the order for the flotilla to put in to shore. His deputy, understanding the sentiments of the young masters aboard the main ship, said, “Holding up the entire flotilla over a small matter like this — that Ning Liheng really has gone too far this time. Someone ought to give him a proper scolding for it…”
Chen Jingui stroked his chin and shot him a sidelong glance. “What do you know? This young master Ning is unfathomable — there must be some deeper purpose behind this. It only looks like idle play; who’s to say he isn’t testing some new countermeasure against Liangshan bandits… The storytellers always say the wise act like a heavenly steed roaming free, like an antelope hanging its horns on a branch, leaving no trace to follow. Don’t go making a fool of yourself. If he wants to stop, we stop, and we act as though we have no idea he has some deeper purpose in mind, understand?… Who’s to say he isn’t trying to lure the enemy in, luring them straight into the jar? If you take it too seriously, you’ll only ruin his plan. Tell the men to stay alert, relaxed on the surface but sharp underneath… I’ve traveled with this young master Ning for many days now; I do know his habits by now — the key is to act naturally…”
In truth, of course, Ning Yi was simply enjoying himself, and had never expected things to turn out quite like this. Fortunately, no one had been hurt, and the children, well used to tumbles and mishaps in daily life, unlike the pampered “strawberries” of a later age, only laughed and joked about the whole mishap. Only Zhou Pei, who rarely roughhoused like this, had taken it far too seriously while pulling on the rope, and had very nearly been lifted clean off her feet and slammed back down, coming away rather disheveled, with the rope having chafed a bit of skin off her hands. Never having suffered such an injury in her life, she was in enough pain to want to cry — and then Ning Yi, after inspecting her “wound,” actually scolded her a couple of times and had Xiao Chan drag her off to have it disinfected and bandaged. In truth the scrape was minor enough that it hardly needed bandaging at all — it was really more of a rope-burn welt — but Xiao Chan wrapped both her hands in several rounds of white bandage all the same. Zhou Pei, feeling wronged at first, gradually found it rather novel, and went around holding up her bandaged hands to complain to everyone she met.
“We hurt our hands catching fish just now,” she complained, though clearly delighted about it all the same. When people showed concern, she would answer with cheerful, magnanimous energy, “It’s fine, just a small injury — but we did catch some fish.”
Once the net and crane had been hauled back up, there did turn out to be a few clumsy fish caught in the net after all, counted as the day’s spoils, and it was decided they would be grilled for lunch.
Others had no idea what had actually happened, but Zhuo Yunfeng, who had been watching Ning Yi and the others from the main ship earlier, knew exactly who was to blame when he saw her injured hands. “The princess is of the noblest birth — how dare he let the princess pull on that rope and suffer such a serious injury? I must—”
“What business is it of yours?”
Zhou Pei cut him off with a frown, clearly annoyed. “We’re having fish for lunch — go catch some yourself.” She and Zhuo Yunfeng were actually fairly well acquainted, which was why she spoke to him this way. After saying her piece, she bounced off holding up both bandaged hands to go find other adults to talk to. “Uncle Tian, Uncle Tian, look — I hurt my hands catching fish just now, but we caught four fish…” The other man only replied, “Oh, so you really were fishing, Princess?”
To go along with Ning Yi’s mischief, and since they were stopping there for lunch regardless, Chen Jingui had by now already ordered men to fish the river on a large scale. Which was just as well — everyone enjoyed the fun, and lunch would be grilled fish or a whole fish feast; as for young master Ning’s deeper purpose, they could simply wait and see.
Only Zhuo Yunfeng, watching the young princess’s retreating figure with something like resentment, muttered, “You’re injured, you shouldn’t be eating fish…” though whether Zhou Pei heard him or not was anyone’s guess.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Jin’er had finally found her chance and had it out with Ning Yi in a proper argument — after which Ning Yi, using a bit of reverse psychology, packed her off as conscript labor to go catch fish…