The reason Yun Zhu had called Ning Yi outside was mainly to discuss two things. The first, as it happened, was much what Ning Yi had already guessed—it concerned his relationship with Qin Siyuan.

Back then, Ning Yi had asked Qin Siyuan to take Yun Zhu in as his adopted daughter, treating it essentially as a favor exchanged for a favor. Partly he’d hoped Yun Zhu might have a proper family of her own; partly, too, he’d felt that the backing of men like Kang Xian or Qin Siyuan could serve as a kind of protective umbrella for her—mainly for the Su family’s sake, in truth. But by now, this had turned into a not-insignificant source of trouble.

Qin Siyuan, now Right Chancellor, whatever his personal style, whatever fear or respect he commanded, could hardly lack enemies working against him behind the scenes. Yun Zhu, after all, had come from a pleasure house—there was no erasing that fact—and if anyone used it as ammunition to attack Qin Siyuan, it would certainly cause him trouble. Yun Zhu felt that, whatever Qin Siyuan’s easygoing nature, and however quietly the matter of their adoptive father-daughter relationship had been handled before, it would now likely have to be formally acknowledged one way or another. If she backed out of it herself first, it would give him an easier way to step back from it gracefully—and so she wanted Ning Yi to raise the matter with the old chancellor, not realizing Ning Yi had already brought it up himself, ahead of her.

In an ordinary household, marrying into connection with a chancellor, whatever the circumstances, would usually be something to cling to with every ounce of effort. Ning Yi, though, thought about it in an entirely different way. A scandal like this within the chancellor’s household, during wartime, would do little real damage to the sitting Right Chancellor’s power—those seeking to curry favor with him would keep doing so regardless, without a second thought. The only one who stood to actually get hurt was Yun Zhu. In that sense, if anything, Ning Yi now felt somewhat reluctant about the connection to Qin Siyuan’s background, and had no wish to press the family tie further.

“…So when I saw him just now, I brought this up with him first thing… Of course, the Qin family are all good people—you already know Madam Qin and Aunt Yun well, and nothing should change when you see them, don’t look down on them, all right… Fortunately, the matter of the adoption was never made a big public affair, so hardly anyone actually knows about it…”

Ahead of them, the street lanterns stretched into the distance, and beside them now lay one of the city’s inner canals, its lantern light reflected on the water. The old stone railings along the bank, worn smooth by years of rain, showed a faint bluish tinge in the dim light. Ning Yi and Yun Zhu walked beneath the trees along the water, her skirts fluttering, one hand held in his, the other carrying the small pouch.

“I wouldn’t dare do that,” Yun Zhu said, glancing at him before adding softly, “You always say such nonsense, husband.”

The two of them had been together for some time now, but this particular way of addressing each other had never come up before—largely because Ning Yi simply wasn’t skilled at that sort of small romantic gesture, though he hadn’t minded much either. This was the first time Yun Zhu had called him “husband.” Though her voice was light, it was genuinely moving to hear. Ning Yi squeezed her soft palm, holding it a little tighter, and as the night breeze drifted past, he smiled gently. Yun Zhu’s face flushed faintly, and she smoothed her hair, a little embarrassed—but the understanding between them was unspoken and complete.

“I never talk nonsense.”

The two walked on together through the gentle river breeze, her hand still held in his after all this time, and with him beside her, she’d grown a little bolder now. Dressed in her pale blue-green gown, graceful and composed, even as she deliberately kept herself tucked into the shadow beside him, more than a few passersby still glanced her way. As they walked, the street ahead began to shift and turn, buildings staggered against one another, and a few especially beautiful shops and courtyards gradually emerged in the night. Ning Yi pointed toward the most magnificent building visible in the darkness ahead and headed that way. “Wasn’t there something else you wanted to talk about? What was it?”

“Um…” Yun Zhu glanced at him. “It’s about Jin’er.”

“Oh? What’s she done now?” At the mention of Yuan Jin’er, Ning Yi’s tone immediately lost all sincerity. Honestly, whatever that girl got up to, nothing would surprise him anymore, and the lingering awkwardness from that time he’d hugged her to avoid Yan Qing hadn’t fully faded either—though they could manage a laugh and get along well enough now, lately he still preferred not to provoke her further.

Seeing his reaction, Yun Zhu pursed her lips and stopped walking, waiting until Ning Yi turned back and put on a properly serious expression before she said, a little hesitantly, “You really don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Didn’t Wenyu tell you?”

“Su Wenyu?” Ning Yi was genuinely caught off guard now. “What does he have to do with this?”

“He said…” Yun Zhu looked him straight in the eye. “He’s fallen for Jin’er. He wants to marry her.”

“…Hm?” Ning Yi blinked, then kept walking, pulling her along, thinking it over for a moment before speaking. “Did he tell you this himself?”

“No, he went to find Jin’er himself yesterday and told her, very seriously… though Jin’er said he stammered quite a bit. I thought he’d have come to you first.”

Ning Yi shook his head. “He wouldn’t come to me. We’ve grown closer these past while, but not close enough that he’d ask me to arrange things on his behalf. Still, Wenyu’s a decent fellow—not extraordinary, but with some polish he’d do fine. Did Jin’er accept him?”

“She turned him down,” Yun Zhu said, shaking her head. “She heard him out, then turned him down, and came to tell me afterward… Of course, it probably wasn’t hurtful—Jin’er’s usually carefree and easygoing, but she’s still careful about things like that. After she told me, I felt like I should mention it to you.”

“I see.” Ning Yi nodded, then laughed. “I’ll have a word with Wenyu, cheer him up a bit… Honestly, he’s got a decent eye for these things. I’ll encourage him tonight—it’s just a momentary setback, girls don’t just up and agree to marriage that easily, of course you have to get to know each other first, figure out what she likes, and win her over that way. As for Jin’er, she’s nearly twenty now, and Wenyu’s family isn’t badly off—marrying her as his primary wife might raise some concerns with her parents, but if it really works out, I’d be happy to help smooth things over…”

Yun Zhu stared at him for a long moment. “I—that’s not what I meant at all…”

“Then what did you mean?”

“Jin’er already turned him down. She doesn’t like him…”

“But they’ve barely known each other a few days—maybe she’ll come to like him in time,” Ning Yi said, then laughed and slapped his forehead. “Of course, I know that’s usually how it goes these days, but once I head to Shandong, at least one of Wenyu and Yanping will stay behind—there might still be a chance for things to change, depending on how well he manages it, of course. As for Jin’er, she says she likes you, but that’s not really true—at least not in the way she describes those two girls being together, I know that much. She’s been so good to you—if she really stays unmarried, we can look after her and see she lives out her days in comfort. But if she does find someone she truly likes, we should wish them well too.”

In this era, a girl could come of age and marry as young as fourteen or fifteen. For courtesans, the years between fourteen and eighteen were considered the most desirable, and past twenty, one could already speak of fading youth. A woman past that age, however beautiful or accomplished, could generally hope for nothing better than becoming a secondary wife or a replacement wife when it came to marriage. Some women, relying on their exceptional skill in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, could still command fame and visitors well into their thirties—but by then, hardly anyone sought to marry them, even as a secondary wife.

Jin’er, at least, had retired at the height of her fame, but even so, she was now nearing twenty herself. An age that, in a later era, would still count as remarkably young, was, in this one, already approaching spinsterhood. She had always spoken of spending her life alongside Yun Zhu, and with Yun Zhu being somewhat older, the matter hadn’t seemed especially urgent before—but now that Yun Zhu was together with Ning Yi, her situation had become far more pressing.

Su Wenyu was a year younger than Ning Yi but still unmarried within his household. If he and Jin’er truly came to care for one another, Ning Yi thought it wasn’t impossible to persuade him to take her as his primary wife. He spoke of the matter with genuine sincerity, but Yun Zhu, instead, seemed to hold something back, hesitating. The two walked along the dimmer edge of the road, and Yun Zhu leaned in a little closer to him, nestling against him with quiet affection, though the smile on her face seemed strangely complicated.

“Liheng, if…”

“Hm? What?”

“…Never mind.”

“Heh, so mysterious…” Ning Yi shook his head, then pointed ahead toward a magnificent, beautifully lit building along the street. “Look at that—really something, isn’t it? Might be a pleasure house, but… could be worth looking at as a reference for the Bamboo Registry someday…”

The buildings stretching before them formed an impressive complex, quite grand in scale. The lights on the upper floors weren’t dazzlingly gilded, but the scattered points of light lent the place a certain refined, antique charm. The structures had clearly stood for some years, yet showed no sign of decay—only the settled elegance that comes with time. Buildings of this style were mostly of wooden construction, and achieving this particular atmosphere required careful, ongoing upkeep. Ning Yi and Yun Zhu made their way toward the main entrance as they took it in; on the wooden covered walkways connecting the upper floors, figures of women could be seen leading guests along, and the sound of strings and flutes drifted through the air, elegant and refreshing.

“This place… it couldn’t be Alum Tower, could it?” Yun Zhu said softly, gazing up at the scene above. “If it is, then Shishi wouldn’t be far from here at all…”

“Alum Tower?” They were still some distance from the main entrance, approaching from the side, unable to make out the signboard clearly. Ning Yi blinked. “Yun Zhu, you’ve never even been to Bian Liang before…”

“I heard people talk about this place…” Yun Zhu answered, her voice a little quiet—no doubt some customer had mentioned it to her during her time at the pleasure house. Alum Tower had long been known as the finest establishment in the capital, its reputation spreading across the realm for over a decade. Li Shishi, though her fame had risen sharply in recent years, was still only one of its renowned beauties among others. The two walked to the street directly across from the main entrance and looked at the large signboard—sure enough, it read Alum Tower. Having wandered a full loop without realizing it, they found they’d ended up lodging remarkably close to Li Shishi’s establishment. Thinking this over, Ning Yi turned to try to get his bearings toward Wenhui Tower, when Yun Zhu tugged at his sleeve beside him.

“Liheng… Liheng, let go of me, someone’s watching from over there…”

Ning Yi turned to look. Across the street, a group of people were emerging from Alum Tower’s entrance, several of them chatting as they waited for their carriages. Among them, looking their way, was a wealthy-looking old man in his fifties, his expression rather dark. Just as Ning Yi was about to release Yun Zhu’s hand, someone nearby seemed to greet the old man, who flicked his sleeve and gave a disdainful snort. “The world grows more corrupt by the day, morals decline with each generation—carrying on like that in broad daylight in public… what is the world coming to!”

His voice carried, loud enough for those around to hear clearly. Though he hadn’t named anyone directly, several people were already glancing toward Ning Yi. Ning Yi had, in fact, been holding hands quite openly with Yun Zhu, with little concern for appearances—but at this, he straightened slightly, frowning, an air of authority that had always belonged to him rising to the surface. “Since when does a man fresh out of the brothel, still smelling of wine and women, have any right to lecture anyone about that!”

His voice was low and commanding, though his youthful face—barely past twenty—wasn’t quite intimidating enough on its own. Still, he kept hold of Yun Zhu’s hand and didn’t let go; she, for her part, stopped struggling, only lowering her head, her face flushed red with embarrassment. Across the street, the old man flew into a rage. “Insolent brat! Who do you think you are, speaking to me like this! If you have any courage, give me your name!”

Ning Yi lifted their joined hands slightly, tilted his head, and said, “You don’t even know me—why wouldn’t I dare… Go. Die. In. A. Hole.”

He delivered the curse word by word, in an oddly clipped, deliberate tone, then, expressionless, turned and pulled Yun Zhu away with him. As the people across the street began shouting, “Someone, seize this insolent lout…” Ning Yi had already slipped into the alley beyond, and before Yun Zhu had even fully registered what was happening, he scooped her up into his arms and took off running, laughing as he carried her the length of the long alleyway.

Up at Alum Tower, a pair of eyes happened to be watching from above—from a window on the third floor. The woman by the window wore a single white gown, her features delicate and ethereal, hair stirring lightly in the night breeze, a smile lingering in her eyes. She had witnessed the whole scene unfold below by chance, and had faintly caught the words “go die in a hole.” As she stood there smiling, a man approached from beside her. “Shishi, what’s so amusing?”

This man was named Xu Dongmo, a well-connected and reasonably famous talent within Bian Liang, who had once crossed paths with Ning Yi back in Jiangning. He glanced down at the crowd by the main entrance, visibly seething with anger. “Oh, that’s Master Xue Gongyuan of the Juanwen Society throwing a fit down there. What’s happened, I wonder, to make him so furious? That’s Yu Shaoyuan over there, a rising talent—the Juanwen Society must be trying to recruit him into their ranks. Shishi, have you read any of his work?”

Li Shishi smiled and shook her head, and even as Xu Dongmo urged her, “You really must read it,” her gaze remained fixed on the man and woman running down the long alleyway below, vanishing into the crowd beyond.

Some things never change—old playmates really are more entertaining than anyone else, she thought to herself.