Life in the capital is never easy. In any dynasty, whatever the era, the place where a nation’s capital sits is always the most complicated in terms of the social ecosystem within it. As far as this trip was concerned, Ning Yi’s leading a group north this time was mainly to prepare the way ahead of Su Tan’er’s own arrival — buying a house, scouting shop locations, investigating the state of the cloth trade and the restaurant business in the capital. Both the Su family’s affairs and Yun Zhu’s needed some rough arrangement made, and all of it had to be pressed into ten days, two weeks at most — it really was cutting it close.
The Su family had, up to now, only modest connections in the capital region; among cloth merchants who managed to grow their business, every household had its own little tricks of the trade, and the Su family’s two best fabrics were sent up to the capital in small quantities each year to be sold on consignment, along with a handful of shopkeepers they knew — but that was as far as it went. If you came up simply to visit, naturally you’d be welcomed, perhaps even greeted at the door. But coming to do business, to compete for a share of the market — that was another matter entirely. Sourcing raw materials, deciding where to open a workshop, how to hire staff — sorting all this out in a short span of time wouldn’t be easy. If it weren’t for the fact that the division of the family estate had become unavoidable, Su Yu surely wouldn’t have wanted his granddaughter and her husband to face a situation this bare.
After the division, what the Su family gave Su Tan’er’s side, more than anything else, was a considerable, considerable sum of silver — as for the workshops, shops, and technical expertise the Su family already had north of the Yangtze, all of that remained far from Bianliang. And silver, in a place like Bianliang, past a certain point, stopped meaning very much.
This was, in all the history of this land, the era in which commerce had reached its greatest height — merchants’ standing had risen somewhat, and the accumulation of wealth and the gap between rich and poor had reached a truly staggering degree. But under a feudal system, none of this shook people’s assumptions too badly, because having wealth didn’t guarantee access to unlimited resources. Power was the one truly substantial thing in this era; an official worth several tens of thousands of taels would never envy a merchant worth several million, because in terms of resources gained, pleasures enjoyed, or respect received, the official came out ahead in every regard.
This was especially true in the capital. Being rich and still getting no respect at all was nothing unusual here. Of course, if one had connections behind them, things could look rather different.
“…The place isn’t especially large, but it’s tasteful enough. There are only four courtyards; the main hall is quite spacious, it just hasn’t been cleaned in a while — a bit of tidying and it’ll be fine… beside it is the guest quarters, behind it the main residence, with the kitchen and servants’ quarters over that way… this tree in the main hall’s courtyard is a fine one, I’m quite fond of it — in autumn when the yellow leaves fall, the mood is lovely… the main residence’s courtyard has a lotus pond, clear out the silt a little each year and the flowers already bloom…”
By the third day after arriving in Bianliang, Monk Jueming had already found Ning Yi and the others a property — not too far from the district with the most shops in the city, though this particular area, sitting in something of a transitional zone, was pleasantly quiet and well suited for a residence. It comprised four connected courtyards and stood beside a river. In the main hall’s courtyard stood a few trees, the largest a scholar tree perhaps a hundred years old, its canopy lush and green, giving an air of warmth without disrupting the formality of the main hall.
Each courtyard had its own small garden structures, all evidently laid out with great care, though the emphasis wasn’t on ornamentation so much as on the overall atmosphere of daily life. In the back courtyard, a lotus pond stood beside a pavilion and rockery, lotus leaves spreading thick across the water, the flowers already in bloom, carrying in the summer light a genuinely refreshing, open quality. One could easily imagine how, come autumn, as the leaves in the courtyard slowly turned yellow and drifted down, the place would take on an entirely different, languid mood.
These gardens seemed to have passed through the hands of a true master — each season, each kind of weather bringing out its own particular character, never overstated, instead drawing people in all the more naturally. Even though Ning Yi had no particular expertise in this area, he could still appreciate its quality.
“The river’s right outside — with the flowing water nearby it won’t get too hot in summer… the neighboring household works at the Court of Judicial Review, though from what I hear, the man’s decent enough…”
This Monk Jueming, handsome and refined, robes wide-sleeved and white, stood beneath the eaves and gave Ning Yi and the others an easy, casual introduction to the place. In the three days since arriving, after their first conversation, Ning Yi had already gathered a rough picture of the man’s background: originally named Zhou Changfu, courtesy name Shaoqin, a descendant of a prince of the imperial bloodline, celebrated as a young man for his literary talent across the capital — and then he had shaved his head and taken monastic vows. What he practiced was a worldly form of Chan Buddhism; he had taken a master but did not live within the monastery gates, moving freely through capital society, attending various poetry gatherings, mingling with all manner of people, while holding to his monastic precepts with great strictness.
It was said that in his youth he had been a famously romantic talent, and even after becoming a monk, plenty of courtesans still pined for him. Yet once he took his vows, he kept away from women entirely, touched neither wine nor meat; he would attend the gatherings of the upper classes, but he had also spent time among the very lowest — handing out grain and porridge in winter, treating the sick and saving lives, and it was said someone had even personally witnessed him, in an emergency, sucking pus from the wound of a half-dead beggar. Ning Yi thought to himself that the man had probably started out as something of an idealist; but by the time he reached forty, there wasn’t much sharpness left visible in him — he was like a smooth stone worn round by years of river water, translucent and polished. He was the type of person who was at once the easiest and the hardest to get along with, his voice, though not especially loud, carrying an easy, unrestrained quality.
Coming along this time to look at the house, besides Ning Yi, there were Xiao Chan, Yun Zhu, Jin’er, and Su Wenyu and Su Yanping; on the other side were Jueming, Cheng Zhouhai, Qin Shaoyu, Wenren Bu’er, and the three Qi brothers. Along the way, though the three Qi brothers were technically under Wenren Bu’er’s command, they got along well enough with Su Wenyu and Su Yanping, and now walked around admiring the surroundings with evident appreciation. Qin Shaoyu, though sent along by Qin Siyuan, found he had little chance to speak with Cheng Zhouhai and Monk Jueming there. Xiao Chan and Jin’er wandered here and there looking things over; Yun Zhu had been keeping some distance from Ning Yi, following along, but before long Jin’er pulled her away as well — the two of them wouldn’t actually be living here.
The intention to buy the property was settled almost at once. The place was good, and money was no object. From something Cheng Zhouhai said, Ning Yi gathered that the courtyard might previously have belonged to the estate of a prince. Monk Jueming had taken his vows after his parents passed away; part of the family estate had gone to relatives, part had reverted to the court, and part he had used to help the poor — this property was likely a leftover fragment, sold at something close to half price, but it also carried the symbolic weight of status and connections. Taking this small advantage now would spare them no small amount of potential trouble later.
None of them thought much of this modest benefit, and once the deal was settled, they wandered on, looking around. Cheng Zhouhai brought up various other matters as well, but Ning Yi wasn’t the sort to keep taking advantage of others’ goodwill, and matters like the cloth shop, the workshop, and finding staff weren’t things he wanted to keep troubling these men from the Secret Service Bureau with. Before long, the conversation turned to poetry, to the fashionable trends of the moment — the various poetry gatherings lately, and Yu Shaoyuan’s much-talked-about “Ode to the Kingly Way.”
“Now that Liheng’s finally in the capital, surely he ought to see one of these gatherings, at least once? Shaoyu should be well suited to arrange that.”
Since the Qin family was, after all, their host in this matter, and it wouldn’t do to leave Qin Shaoyu entirely out of the conversation, the others made a point of drawing him in. Qin Shaoyu, who seemed a fairly straightforward sort by nature, looked a bit sheepish. “Actually… my own writing isn’t very good, but if we do want to attend one of these gatherings recently, I’ve already made inquiries — my uncle told me I was to look after Master Ning properly…”
Ning Yi felt no ill will toward a young man just beginning to encounter this complicated world, and laughed as he offered his thanks. “Actually, I’m not especially interested in these poetry gatherings. What I’d really like, these next few days, is to visit a few of Bianliang’s most famous towers.”
“Oh?” Cheng Zhouhai laughed. “Liheng just wants to have a look?”
“Just to look, mm… Brother Cheng knows how it is — it’s mainly for the restaurant business. Yun Zhu’s Zhuji venture is going to open here in the capital, and I’d like to see for myself what the best establishments in the capital look like, to get a sense of it. Of course, it’s not that I mean to steal anyone’s business… And there’s Fan Tower as well — I have a friend there I might visit.”
Hearing him mention Fan Tower, Monk Jueming laughed. “That would be Miss Shishi, I take it. I’ve heard from Wenren that the two of you go back a long way — you’ll have to go see her, surely.”
Ning Yi smiled and nodded. This sort of reaching out, for old times’ sake, wasn’t something he wanted to make a great show of — at most, whenever Li Shishi had time, she might call the others over to sit for a while. Ning Yi simply agreed to it, and privately wanted to go see Fan Tower as well. As for whether any of his other “childhood friends” held any deep affection for him, he didn’t hold out much hope either way.
After chatting like this a while, they had lunch outside around noon; Cheng Zhouhai and Wenren Bu’er needed to return to the Chancellor’s residence, and Jueming took his leave as well. In the afternoon, Qin Shaoyu led Ning Yi and the others around to pick out furniture and various everyday items, all the way until dusk.
The house itself was already settled, and money wasn’t an issue, so Ning Yi treated the outing as a chance to accompany everyone and take in the sights of Bianliang, and so they ended up shopping for more than just a few pieces of furniture. Along the street, the group wandered from shop to shop, with Jin’er pulling Yun Zhu and Xiao Chan in and out of stores. Ordinarily she might not have behaved quite this way — if it were just her and Yun Zhu, or with only one or two servants along, it wouldn’t do for a young lady to go shopping so boisterously. But today, with Ning Yi and the others along, it could be treated as her husband’s family accompanying her on a shopping trip — having that kind of cover behind her made all the difference.
For the furniture they’d already picked out, they simply arranged a time for the shop owners to deliver it; as for the various small items bought on impulse, including food and drink, fruit and preserves, the two servants carried those. A small episode occurred along the way as well — when Jin’er happily bought a few pieces of clothing she liked, one of the servants whose hands were free had been sent off to handle something else, and Su Wenyu stepped over to pay for her and then carried the bundle for her; she found it awkward to refuse.
This sort of small thing happened, unremarkably, several times over in different forms; Su Wenyu grew a little bolder and tried exchanging a few words with her, and she didn’t rebuff him too harshly. Her replies and manner were quite courteous throughout — very different from the bickering she engaged in with Ning Yi — which was, one supposed, how a genuinely well-bred young lady of this era ought to carry herself.
As the sun began to set, the group wasn’t especially far from Wenhui Tower, and as they strolled back along a relatively secluded stretch of lane, they heard laughter drifting from up ahead.
“Kitty~! Kitty! Miss, have you seen my kitty? It’s a golden monkey, I’m looking for my golden monkey… it’s about this tall… this big, very cute… but now it’s gone missing… miss, you’re wearing a skirt, could you let me take a look under there, hehe…”
Along with the laughter came a woman’s scream…