The flames from the fallen lanterns burned in clusters along the street. Beneath the dead horse’s body, blood had already pooled into a shallow lake; the ground was a mess of blood, corpses, and scattered debris. As the black-robed woman ran off toward an adjoining street, the constables holding their blades didn’t dare so much as attempt to stop her.
Ning Yi took a step, meaning to sneak after her, only to find Xiao Chan clinging tightly to him. The two of them differed in height by barely a head, but with Xiao Chan curled up against his side just now, she looked considerably shorter. When Ning Yi looked down, Xiao Chan was already looking up with a furrowed little face; she’d been holding onto him for a while now, refusing to be pulled loose, looking on the verge of tears. When their eyes met, her own eyes and mouth suddenly went round, she froze for a second with an adorable expression, then abruptly ducked her head.
Ning Yi pursed his lips, then patted her shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“Oh.” Xiao Chan hurriedly let go. Ning Yi started toward that side street; Xiao Chan followed a few steps, then came to her senses and shook her head. “Wait, no—young master, where are you going?”
“To see what’s happening…”
“No!”
Xiao Chan jumped up and grabbed his sleeve. “Don’t, young master, that woman bandit was so scary, let’s go get something to eat, Miss is still waiting for us…”
“It’s fine, I’ll just watch from a distance…”
“No! Besides, that woman bandit already ran off…”
“It’s not that easy… er, well, if she’s really gone, I won’t see anything anyway…”
With a thump, Xiao Chan threw her arms around Ning Yi from behind, gripping tightly, scattering the spiced beans in her hand all over him, shaking her head furiously against his back. “No, young master, you’re not allowed to go…”
Ning Yi stood there for a moment, at a loss, then glanced around. “Xiao Chan, hugging me like this—what will people think?”
Given the chaos moments ago, with everyone watching the fight, no one had paid much attention to him shielding her. But now, hearing Ning Yi speak, Xiao Chan came to her senses, went rigid, and released him as if shocked—though she immediately grabbed hold of his sleeve again instead, her small face flushing red. Ning Yi laughed and reached out to tousle her hair, mussing it thoroughly; one of her little bun-wrapped headscarves came loose, half her hair falling into a ponytail. Xiao Chan’s mouth turned down as Ning Yi started walking forward. “It’s fine, it’s fine, I just want to see what actually happened.”
“Young master… please don’t go…”
By then more of the blue-clad Wulie Army soldiers were arriving from down the street. The little maid clung to his sleeve, following his every step, her expression anxious and near tears, the scarf from her bun fallen loose in her hand, unable to tie it back—looking thoroughly adorable.
The black-robed woman had been covered in blood; if she’d run any distance, it surely would have caused a panic. But the chaos only lasted through the next street over—by the time Ning Yi and Xiao Chan reached the following street, the panicked crowds had already settled. Clearly the woman bandit had either slipped into some nearby shop or residence, or had quickly found a way to change her appearance. Still, passing by a tea stall, they overheard people discussing the fight back on Vermilion Bird Avenue.
“…Heard that woman assassin tried to kill Commander Song Xian of the Wulie Army over at Feiyan Pavilion. Didn’t succeed, but she killed over a dozen men before leaving—tsk, blood everywhere… Then she fought again just now on Vermilion Bird Avenue, and now she’s vanished again. These skilled outlaws who come and go like the wind—how could they ever be caught…”
The Wulie Army, garrisoned around Jiangning, didn’t have the best reputation, and ordinary folk naturally had no idea what kind of man Commander Song Xian really was—but then, how many officials were truly good men? Among the common people, there was naturally a certain grim satisfaction in hearing about it. Still, it wasn’t as though these skilled fighters could truly never be caught. Among the nearby crowds, the blue-clad figures could occasionally be glimpsed—likely the elite core of the Wulie Army, not large in number, but still searching for traces of the woman assassin. Ning Yi occasionally observed the direction of their search and casually followed along.
Xiao Chan had relaxed by now, trotting a few steps here and there beside Ning Yi, fussing with her loosened hairstyle, muttering stubbornly with a pouting face: “Young master can’t find her, young master can’t find her, young master can’t find her…”
…
The assassination attempt at Feiyan Pavilion and the fight on Vermilion Bird Avenue were merely small episodes in this night’s events, their ripples spreading only within a certain range, reaching only certain levels of society. Even with all the Wulie Army’s connections, they could hardly seal off the city or block the roads searching for someone on a day like the fifteenth of the first month. In an age when news traveled mostly by word of mouth, the vast majority of people simply continued on with their activities and celebrations.
About a street away from Wuyi Lane stood Old Rain Tower, one of the largest restaurants operated by the Pu family, Jiangning’s wealthiest household. Five stories tall and covering a vast area, though called a restaurant, there was scarcely any form of entertainment you couldn’t find within it. Since the Pu family had begun cultivating a reputation as a scholarly household, part of their business had taken on an air of refined elegance, and this building was their best-run establishment.
The whole restaurant formed a square structure around a large central courtyard, so lighting was never an issue. Within it, rockery gardens, pavilions, rare trees, and flowers were arranged—small in scale, but exquisitely done. When needed, these could be moved aside to set up a temporary stage. Outside the building, walled-off sections held additional rooms and greenery, pleasing to look down upon from above. Throughout the restaurant hung calligraphy and paintings steeped in scholarly refinement, along with precious screens, decorative porcelain, lacquerware, and more.
The Pu family had spent a fortune on this building, and the reputation it had earned lived up to the investment. Those with money, family status, or a taste for refined culture considered it an honor to host a banquet here; even officials like the prefect, when entertaining guests outside their own residence, often chose this place. But of course, money was what truly mattered—penniless scholars could only come when invited. This building stood as perhaps the finest fusion of wealth and refinement in the city.
Today the Pu family was hosting a gathering of many talented scholars here. Since the weather hadn’t yet warmed and the wind on the river was strong, arranging the linked boats wasn’t practical this time, so the gathering was essentially another version of the Pu Garden Poetry Gathering. Led by Puyang Yi of the Pu family, guests had been invited according to the standards of the Pu Garden gathering, though this time few brought family along. The renowned beauty Qilan, one of the Four Beauties of Qinhuai, was present to keep company. Over the past two or three years, the famous courtesan Qilan had become something of a signature feature of the Pu family’s gatherings.
The mood of this banquet was somewhat more relaxed than the Pu Garden gathering at Mid-Autumn, though everyone was still in high poetic spirits. Besides the several talented scholars already connected to the Pu family, along with people like Xue Jin, today also saw the arrival of someone quite famous—a man often mentioned alongside the steady, rigorous Cao Guan among Jiangning’s younger generation, though this one had a free-spirited character and poetry that ranged wildly, said to carry echoes of the Tang dynasty’s spirit. This was Li Pin, the talented scholar who had attended the Lichuan poetry gathering at Mid-Autumn.
Li Pin’s reputation exceeded that of the several people the Pu family could usually invite—though of course, they were all young, and such gaps were hard to measure precisely. Others speaking of the Pu family’s gatherings tended to dock a few points for the whiff of money involved, considering it a notch or two below the Stillwater or Lichuan gatherings. Everyone found it rather strange that he would attend a banquet here this time—but in truth, it wasn’t the Pu family’s wealth that had secured his presence. Rather, it was because this fellow had heard several of Ning Yi’s stories at Yushan Academy before the New Year, and had become acquainted with Su Chonghua through that. No one had expected Su Chonghua’s influence to extend quite this far—hosting a banquet was one thing, but managing to bring Li Pin here on a day like the Lantern Festival made the Pu family feel rather proud.
The other scholars had initially worried that Li Pin’s presence might steal their thunder, but fortunately he kept a low profile, composing poems casually today—fine verses, certainly, but nothing that would overshadow everyone else. In his easy conversation he was courteous in give and take, and before long people felt they’d become his friends rather than his rivals, basking in a sense of shared honor. Qilan, with her professional social grace, naturally didn’t cling to Li Pin alone—if anything, she kept a slight distance from him compared to others, skillfully managing the mood of the whole gathering with practiced ease, keeping the atmosphere warm and harmonious.
Poems from the Lichuan gathering and various other events continued streaming in for everyone to appraise, and the group here remained in high spirits, even though their own verses fell short of Lichuan’s best. Li Pin occasionally teased the Lichuan scholars a bit, which made everyone else feel that side wasn’t so impressive after all. Cups and goblets clinked, drinking games were played now and then, poetry was savored, and the lady Qilan played a tune on the qin and danced. As the hour approached the third quarter of the Hour of the Boar, Puyang Yi went over to speak with Li Pin, exchanging a few words as well with Su Chonghua and Xue Jin, who had also come.
Before long the talk turned to last Mid-Autumn’s “Prelude to Water Melody,” and from there to the subject of Ning Yi. Puyang Yi brought it up casually, though in truth he’d long wanted to invite Ning Yi to this gathering to add some luster to it. Su Chonghua, smiling, spoke a little of Ning Yi’s doings within the Su household, and mentioned Song Mao’s examination and praise of him before the New Year. In truth, Su Chonghua had previously held an indifferent attitude toward Ning Yi, but now felt a growing wariness—mainly out of fear that the man might overshadow his own reputation as headmaster of Yushan Academy. After all, he’d run that academy for years without much to show for it, and the moment Ning Yi arrived, he’d trained a batch of excellent students—which felt, to him, like nothing short of a slap in the face. Seeing Elder Su’s high regard for Ning Yi only deepened his unease. On the surface, though, he naturally maintained the pose of an elder discussing a promising young man with pride.
“That can’t be true, I don’t believe it.” The Xue family had never gotten along with the Su family, and Xue Jin no longer bothered hiding his feelings much. “I heard before the New Year that this ‘Prelude to Water Melody’ was something he heard chanted by some wandering Daoist priest… heh, he simply claimed it as his own…”
“Ha ha, Brother Xue, bringing this up again.” As Xue Jin’s words faded, another voice spoke up nearby—this one belonged to someone from the Wu family. Among Jiangning’s three great cloth-trading houses, the Xue and Su families had never gotten along, but the Wu family, as the leading house of the trade, kept good relations with both. The speaker was the Wu family’s second young master, Wu Qihao, acquainted with both Su Tan’er and Xue Jin. When Su Tan’er had visited the Wu family around New Year’s, Ning Yi had met him briefly as well. Now he smiled. “As for the Daoist priest theory—not many people would actually believe that if you said it aloud.”
Puyang Yi laughed beside him. “I don’t believe it either. But as for this young brother Liheng, I’ve genuinely admired him for some time now. Headmaster Su, you really must introduce us next time.”
The conversation then drifted away from Ning Yi’s name, and the group chatted and laughed a while longer. Qilan performed a song and dance. After looking out the window for a moment, Wu Qihao turned back with a smile. “Brother Puyang, what a coincidence—it seems the very man we were just discussing is currently wandering about downstairs. Headmaster Su, Brother Li, Brother Xue—I’ve only met Liheng once myself, so I can’t be entirely sure, but come take a look…”
His words carried across roughly half the hall, and at once people grew curious and gathered closer. “Brother Wu seems quite interested—who exactly are you talking about?”
“Liheng? Could this be the…?”
The discussion spread quickly through the entire second-floor gathering hall. By the inner window, Wu Qihao and several others stood looking down, pointing. “Everyone, take a look—that seems to be him. And that girl beside him, isn’t that Xiao Chan, the maid who follows sister Tan’er around?”
Down in the courtyard below, near the rockery garden, Ning Yi and Xiao Chan were strolling about somewhat idly, looking around amid the sea of lanterns…