Lantern Festival night, Old Rain Tower.

Five months ago, on Mid-Autumn night, the composition of “Prelude to Water Melody” had stunned all of Jiangning. Some even said that after such a work, it would be years before anyone at Jiangning’s poetry gatherings could produce a Mid-Autumn verse to match it. Even now, this piece—”When will the bright moon appear”—was still sung again and again at every banquet and gathering. Five months hadn’t been enough to dull the impact the poem had made; if anything, as time passed, it only spread further and grew more famous, sung repeatedly even in places like the Eastern Capital and Yangzhou. Yet as time went on, the discussions that had first swirled around the poem’s author within Jiangning had gradually faded. With no news of him for so long, even the suspicions or negative rumors that he’d plagiarized the work had, after a few repetitions, lost most of their appeal as gossip.

Even on this Lantern Festival night, when Puyang Yi, Su Chonghua and the others had brought up Ning Yi’s name, it had only sparked discussion within a small circle. Bringing it up as a topic for the whole gathering wouldn’t have meant much—whether you called the man a recluse or an eccentric genius, he spent his days teaching and paid no attention to anyone else regardless. This was precisely why, when this small group went to the window to look outside, most of the others in the hall still had no idea what was actually happening. The renowned Qilan, having just finished a song and dance, was sitting there resting and chatting pleasantly with several scholars when she noticed the commotion by the window and quietly asked the person beside her about it.

The whole gathering buzzed with the same quiet questioning, until someone finally passed the word along: “It seems that Ning Yi—Ning Liheng—is downstairs right now.”

“The Ning Liheng who wrote ‘Prelude to Water Melody’?”

“The Puyang family actually managed to invite even him?”

“The Su family only runs a cloth trading business, while the Puyang family is Jiangning’s wealthiest household—how could they refuse such an honor? Only… I did hear this man courts fame rather shamelessly…”

“It’s true he never attends this sort of gathering, but I hear his manner of speech is rather impressive…”

Amid the murmured discussion, Qilan simply listened with a smile. She’d sung “Prelude to Water Melody” many times herself, but at a gathering like this, she naturally couldn’t let her curiosity show; she merely followed along with whatever the people around her said, occasionally glancing toward Puyang Yi.

By the window, Su Chonghua and the others had already recognized Ning Yi below. Xue Jin smiled. “Isn’t that Xiao Chan there—and Liheng right in front of her.” Puyang Yi glanced toward Su Chonghua, who then laughed. “Indeed, it’s Liheng and that girl Xiao Chan.”

Xue Jin leaned forward to look. “Wonder what they’re doing down there. Why not call him up?” Wu Qihao said, “Looks like he might have something going on.” As they talked it over, Puyang Yi considered it for a moment, until Su Chonghua finally smiled and said, “Since we’ve happened to run into him, there’s no harm calling him up for a visit. What could possibly be going on, on a night like Lantern Festival—he’s probably just wandering about like everyone else…”

Su Chonghua was Ning Yi’s direct superior, and with him saying so, Puyang Yi made up his mind. Seeing that Xue Jin looked ready to simply shout down at him, he quickly said, “No, no, that won’t do at all—given Brother Ning’s talent, I should go invite him myself. Everyone, please wait a moment.” Wu Qihao beside him said, “I’ll come with you.”

The two of them excused themselves from the group and headed down the stairs, leaving the hall abuzz with murmured speculation about what would happen when Ning Yi arrived, various guesses about his talent rising once more to the surface. Xue Jin sneered, exchanged a few words with some acquaintances nearby, then glanced toward Su Chonghua with mild confusion: what’s this old fox up to… Su Chonghua, holding no particular fondness for him, gave a cupped-hand salute and sat back down, striking up conversation with Li Pin, who watched the scene with a faint smile…

…

“Young master’s lost me! Young master couldn’t find me!”

Down in the central courtyard, Xiao Chan sang out the words in a lilting, rhythmic tone, with more than a little smug satisfaction in it—though mostly relief that Ning Yi hadn’t managed to find that woman bandit. Along the way, her bun had come undone completely, so she’d simply pulled loose the ribbon on the other side too, letting her hair fall into two elegant twin braids. As she walked, the braids swayed back and forth, and she still looked every bit the sweet, sensible little maid.

Ning Yi understood what was on her mind and smiled. As he turned back, Xiao Chan, thinking he meant to tousle her hair again, grabbed her two braids gently and quickly stepped back, biting her lip to hold back a happy smile. “Who says you lost me?”

“You definitely lost me.”

Xiao Chan shot back, still smiling. Ning Yi rolled his eyes. “We’ll see about that.” He glanced off in a certain direction.

In truth, he hadn’t lost the trail at all—he simply understood Xiao Chan’s worries, and since she was happy believing she’d outsmarted him, it seemed best to let her keep thinking so. The whole restaurant buzzed with festive energy now, everyone celebrating in warm harmony—but plenty of small details there didn’t escape Ning Yi’s notice.

Following the trail of the Wulie Army soldiers, based on the possible escape route of the woman bandit and the distribution of the soldiers, he and Xiao Chan had likely been tailing not far behind all along. The rear wall of Old Rain Tower showed an unnatural collapse in a patch of snow; at the front gate, two Wulie Army soldiers were negotiating with the restaurant’s guards, only just now being allowed inside. Meanwhile, as he and Xiao Chan had circled halfway around, Ning Yi had noticed what looked like a storeroom or resting room that seemed to have been forced open. He’d deliberately struck up a conversation with a young attendant, drawing his attention to the area—and now that attendant seemed to be speaking anxiously with someone in charge, holding something red in his hands.

It might have been a bloodstained cloth, or perhaps an entire changed set of bloody clothes—but with an incident like this, before things were properly understood, the restaurant wouldn’t want to report it to the authorities or take any drastic action. Their main fear was causing a scene that would ruin the night’s business. Setting aside that most people here had no idea about the events at Vermilion Bird Avenue or Feiyan Pavilion, even if they knew it was an assassin, as long as it had nothing to do with them, they’d simply let her go on her way—if the constables or the army were called in, not only would tonight’s business be ruined, they might end up implicated and squeezed for a bribe besides. So for now, the restaurant could only investigate quietly on its own and raise its guard.

After the first two Wulie Army members, two more entered from the gate. They kept watch for anything suspicious; the restaurant’s steward called over a few more people, gave them instructions, and these attendant-dressed men also spread out, quietly probing for anything out of place within. Like the mantis stalking the cicada unaware of the oriole behind—Ning Yi only needed to trail behind these people and watch how things unfolded, content to play the quiet oriole.

Ever since hearing about the wonders of internal-energy martial arts, Ning Yi had wanted to witness it firsthand. Over half a year now, and this was the first time he’d encountered someone who looked like the real deal—he had absolutely no intention of letting the opportunity slip by. What he could actually do about it remained uncertain, but as long as there was a chance, he could always improvise something. What he hadn’t anticipated, however, was that on his way up from the first floor to the second, this self-styled “oriole” would find himself blocked by two hunters entirely outside his calculations.

“Brother Ning, Xiao Chan—what a coincidence.” Coming down the stairs, the first to greet them at the landing was Wu Qihao, whom he’d met once before. Then another young man cupped his hands in greeting as well. “Brother Liheng, I’ve long admired your name—I am Puyang Yi.” This one he was meeting for the first time, though he’d certainly heard the name—the heir of the Puyang family.

After a round of introductions and pleasantries from Wu Qihao, Ning Yi learned that another Pu Garden Poetry Gathering was currently underway upstairs. He had no intention of attending. “My apologies, I do have urgent matters to attend to—I’m afraid I can’t make it to the gathering. I appreciate the kind invitation, but…” Before he could finish his polite decline, Wu Qihao had already affectionately looped an arm through his, putting on an air of warm, hearty enthusiasm. “Now that you’re here, how could you not come up for a while? Looks like you were headed upstairs anyway—perhaps you had an appointment up there too? Ha ha, no trouble at all—we’ll just have Brother Puyang send word ahead, delay things a little. Besides, Headmaster Su, Li Pin, and others are all up there right now, and everyone admires your talent greatly. If you were to pass right by the door without stopping in, that hardly seems the way to make friends… Just go show your face for a bit. If you truly have urgent business and need to leave early, everyone will understand. Ha ha, and honestly, Brother Puyang has been talking about wanting to meet you for ages now…”

Wu Qihao affectionately pulled Ning Yi upstairs, while Puyang Yi remained gracious and courteous throughout. The gathering was being held in a room on the second floor; having already been pulled upstairs, Ning Yi found there was really no way to decline further. Looking back, he saw Xiao Chan bouncing along rather pleased with herself, but the moment his gaze swept over her, she quickly pursed her lips into a more reserved expression, blinking with feigned innocence.

This girl…

Her thoughts were plain as day. Turning his head to glance into the hall, he spotted Xue Jin’s grinning face right away. Over the past half year, through his dealings with Old Master Qin and others, he’d seen plenty—a small gathering like this posed no trouble at all. It simply wasn’t the right time. Glancing back at the positions of the blue-clad Wulie soldiers, then scanning the attendants scattered through the building, he frowned faintly.

What followed was a stream of greetings and introductions—dozens of talented scholars in the room, most unfamiliar to him, only a handful he actually knew: Li Pin, Xue Jin, Su Chonghua among them. After Puyang Yi’s introductions, the famous courtesan Qilan, whose reputation he’d long heard of, rose to greet him as well, saying something like “I’ve long admired young master’s name.” The woman looked to be about eighteen or nineteen, genuinely beautiful. Ning Yi merely cupped his hands. “A pleasure.”

“I do have urgent matters at hand and can’t stay long today, everyone…”

The opportunity was slipping away fast—though “opportunity” might not have been quite the right word for it. Still, to Ning Yi, chatting poetry with this crowd of scholars, or even engaging in their low-grade political maneuvering, was nowhere near as interesting as martial arts. He wasn’t some romantic dreamer chasing the limits of human potential—if he’d genuinely wanted raw strength, he already knew something of special-forces training methods from before; pushing himself to develop some form of hard qigong wasn’t impossible. But he’d already seen so much in his life—everything this ancient era had, the future thousand years still had too. The one thing he’d never encountered was this so-called internal energy. He opened his mouth to take his leave directly, but before he could finish, someone spoke up.

“Brother Ning, a man of such learning—at the Pu Garden gathering that day, a single ‘Prelude to Water Melody’ stunned the whole room. Today, on this fine Lantern Festival, the Puyang family is again hosting a gathering—why not leave us another masterpiece, something we can all speak of with pride for years to come?”

“Indeed, if Brother Ning leaves us another great work today, it’s sure to become a story people tell for ages.”

This amounted to an open challenge. Ning Yi frowned slightly. “Another day—I truly do have business today.”

“What urgent matter could it be? Tell us, perhaps we could help, Brother Ning.”

“Indeed, a gentleman speaks openly and without concealment—if you truly have urgent business, Brother Ning, feel free to say so.”

Then someone murmured quietly: “Could it be he looks down on us…”

“Rather arrogant, isn’t he…”

“Makes you wonder if the rumors are true…”

The voices weren’t loud, but they carried just enough to reach everyone’s ears. In the seats up front, Qilan watched all this unfold as an observer. She knew how eager the Puyang family was for talent—Ning Yi’s reputation had been ambiguous from the start, yet Puyang Yi still held out hope for him; there were, after all, plenty of shameless fame-seekers among these young second-generation types, and if this one truly had talent, winning him over would be a great catch. But judging by the current situation, that kind of good fortune seemed unlikely. Looking at Ning Yi’s expression, she too frowned faintly, quietly, with a touch of regret.

Ning Yi turned his head to glance out the window—two blue-clad men were passing through the corridor opposite, not yet having turned back—when Xue Jin suddenly stepped forward, blocking his view.

“Brother Ning, let your little brother speak fairly here—this is really not right of you.” Xue Jin grinned happily. “That ‘Prelude to Water Melody’ on Mid-Autumn night was more than enough to prove your great talent, Brother Ning. Today, when everyone brought up your name, it was out of genuine admiration, nothing but praise. There are those outside who say you court fame dishonestly, that the poem was stolen—your little brother here has never believed a word of it. Today we happened to speak of you, and here you are—surely this is fate, destiny at work! I also know that fine poetry can’t simply be summoned on command, so Brother Ning, why not stay a while longer, and once inspiration strikes, write whatever comes—it needn’t be as extraordinary as ‘Prelude to Water Melody.’ Just give us one more piece, and the next time your little brother hears anyone on the street bringing up these slanders against you, I’ll box their ears myself! I’ll gather a dozen or twenty servants and give them a beating! Drag them straight to the magistrate’s office and sue them for defamation, let the prefect deal with them! Ha ha, wouldn’t that be satisfying!”

Xue Jin gestured animatedly as he spoke; Ning Yi, watching his performance, couldn’t help but laugh.

“In any case, we’re all at the age for seizing life’s pleasures. Today, with all these worthy elder brothers gathered here, the lovely Qilan keeping us company, such heartfelt hospitality—what urgent business could possibly compare? And if you truly do have urgent matters, I’ll bear any losses myself! If an apology’s needed, I’ll go with you, we’ll go bearing thorns to beg forgiveness together, how about that?”

As he finished speaking, from the murmuring crowd on the other side, another voice rose up. “Liheng, since everyone’s said as much, you shouldn’t keep refusing. It’s good for a young man to keep a low profile, but every now and then he ought to show a bit of his edge too. Why not loosen up a little today and give us a demonstration?”

Ning Yi turned around.

The unhurried voice belonged to Su Chonghua, his face now wearing a warm, genial smile, as though delighted that Yushan Academy had produced such a promising young talent. Ning Yi’s gaze swept over him, his expression suddenly turning cold—and then the corner of his mouth curved into a smile. To Su Chonghua’s eyes, that smile carried an odd trace of the same authority Elder Su bore when angered, laced with something faintly unsettling. Su Chonghua couldn’t read the expression at all.

Su Chonghua worked to maintain his smile, and fortunately Xue Jin picked up the thread again.

“Brother Ning, what exactly do you mean by that reaction? To be honest, your little brother recently heard a rumor going around rather wildly—that you yourself told an elder of the Su family that your ‘Prelude to Water Melody’ was something you heard as a child, chanted by some wandering Daoist priest. I didn’t believe it myself—a man of your fine character surely wouldn’t do such a thing! But the talk simply wouldn’t stop. Brother Ning, if this is truly what happened, then I’ve misjudged you entirely. If you really mean to leave today, then walk straight past me—I won’t stop you! I’ll simply admit I never knew you at all!”

There wasn’t much logical substance to what he’d said, but delivered with such righteous conviction that if Ning Yi truly walked out now, by the next day the plagiarism accusation would be all but confirmed. As his words faded, the hall fell somewhat quiet, everyone waiting to see how Ning Yi would respond. Puyang Yi wanted to smooth things over but found himself at a momentary loss for words. Then, everyone watched as Ning Yi simply turned and walked right past Xue Jin, saying only, mildly: “Very well.”

Xue Jin turned, about to say something more, only to see Ning Yi walk straight to a low table nearby and pick up a writing brush. This was, after all, a poetry gathering—brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones were readily available everywhere. Someone had originally been sitting at that low table, wearing a smug, gloating expression, which now froze slightly. Ning Yi dipped the brush tip into the ink and paused for a moment.

His gaze swept past the crowd, drifting toward Su Chonghua’s side—near a table not far from Su Chonghua, a blue-clad serving girl was pouring wine into an empty cup. The weather being cold, servants like her dressed rather warmly, but something about the outline of her figure struck a chord of recognition in Ning Yi.

So he hadn’t lost the trail after all…

Xiao Chan, who’d already grown a little irritated listening to Xue Jin’s speech, now felt a flicker of delighted surprise as she followed along behind. Li Pin and the others gathered closer as well. The brush soaked in ink for two seconds, then came down onto the paper: “Very well—today being the joyous occasion of Lantern Festival, since everyone shows such warm regard, your little brother won’t hold back his poor skills any longer—here goes nothing!”

His eyes followed the serving girl’s retreating figure as the brush swept swiftly across the paper—though of course, not a fountain pen, and even in wild cursive script, Ning Yi didn’t write especially fast. Li Pin, standing beside him, read the characters aloud as they appeared.

“Green Jade Cup… Lantern Festival Eve…”

His voice rang out clear and bright, carrying across the entire hall. A moment later, the onlookers’ expressions and postures grew more formal as he continued reading: “The east wind, at night, blows open a thousand trees of blossoms—”

This opening line of “Green Jade Cup” swept forth with grandeur!

Xue Jin and Su Chonghua’s faces changed color in an instant…