“A guest scholar of a princely household teaches the children of the imperial family!” Pan Hongda barked. “This is no matter to be treated as a game. If today were merely some poetry gathering where a man wandered in hoping to steal a bit of reputation, driving him out would be the end of it. But if such a man has become a tutor within a princely household, whoever is responsible for corrupting the young prince and the young county mistress bears no small burden on the honor of the imperial family. Ordinarily this wouldn’t be something for me to concern myself with, but having run academies for decades, now that I’ve come across it, I have no choice but to get to the bottom of it. Ning Liheng, tell us now — have we in fact misjudged you!”
Pan Hongda’s words rang out with righteous conviction, striking hard. The crowd around them had already grown excited. Yan Lingzhong said, “A few days ago, I happened to examine Princess Zhou Pei of Prince Kang’s household on her learning. Her Highness is bright, and her scholarship is truly outstanding — she lives up to her reputation as a talented woman. Later, in conversation, she spoke very highly of Master Ning, and so I was willing to believe that Master Ning’s reputation was well-earned. And yet, given his conduct today, I confess I do have my doubts. Ning Liheng, at today’s gathering you truly haven’t written a single word, and over this past year, I myself have heard of no new work from your hand. If you were truly capable of writing something on the level of ‘When will there be a bright moon’ or ‘A night of fish and dragons dancing,’ and yet nothing at all has come from your brush since — isn’t that… rather strange?”
From the very start, this Grand Academician had treated Ning Yi with a certain civility. When he finished speaking, Zhou Qing spoke up from the other side: “These past few days, since my cousin Zhou Pei came to the capital, she’s had no end of praise for this teacher of hers. I was genuinely curious just what sort of remarkable man could earn such admiration from my cousin. I had hoped that today’s gathering would show me this Master Ning’s talent, but so far, I confess I’m rather disappointed…”
No sooner had she said this than the young nobles who had come with her began to chime in as well, some shaking their heads, others sneering openly. At that moment, several young men were quietly edging away from the group — they had just caught sight of a face appearing near the distant courtyard gate. In truth, of the men who had come with Zhou Qing, most held fairly favorable impressions of Zhou Pei; it was only that she had gotten a bit carried away when speaking of Ning Yi, which had made them want to come see the spectacle for themselves, partly to prove that this Ning Yi wasn’t really so remarkable after all. Now, having spotted that face, they couldn’t help but start trying to distance themselves.
“Hey, County Mistress Pei’s rushed over here…”
“How did she find out…”
“What do we do now…”
“What can we do. Even if she’s here, she can’t save her teacher — is she going to take the examination in his place or something…”
“You think she knows it was us who set this up…”
Amid the clamor around them, a round of whispers passed through the crowd. Yan Lingzhong said, “Until this matter is settled, I remain willing to believe that Ning Liheng is a man of real talent. Most of us here today hold some standing as well; we had, in fact, just been discussing that the state ought to select men of ability today, and that on the strength of this Nian Nu Jiao alone, Shaoyuan ought to be recommended for the Imperial Academy. Liheng, you are still young, and yet you’ve already become a guest scholar of a princely household — if your learning is truly what it’s said to be, we would gladly recommend you for the Academy as well, together with him. What of it?”
At this time, students of the Imperial Academy were nominated from various regions, though a great many of the available places went specifically to the sons of officials. The men present, though they carried considerable influence in Bianliang, could still only push through a small number of names each year. And once admitted to the Academy, one gained a far better foothold for the imperial examinations and for a career in government thereafter — men of talent and letters flocked to it eagerly. Meanwhile, Zhou Qing and the wealthy young idlers beside her were also chiming in, saying that if he truly had the talent, they too would be glad to help.
Off to the side, Xue Gongyuan was still saying, “Even if he really does have talent, I still question the man’s character!” What Yan Lingzhong had proposed was to recommend both Yu Shaoyuan and Ning Yi at the same time; Yu Shaoyuan, for his part, simply smiled and cupped his hands in a bow.
“My thanks to the Under-Chancellor. Since that’s the case, I would be glad to compete in poetry and letters with Master Ning, and indeed with everyone else present, for this Academy placement — a contest between gentlemen.”
This immediately turned the matter into something like a public contest, much to everyone’s delight, and all eyes turned expectantly toward watching Ning Yi make a fool of himself. Sure enough, Ning Yi said, “I have no designs on the Imperial Academy. As for this prize, I’ll pass.”
Someone laughed. “Look at that — how clumsy. Putting on this whole act of not caring for fame and glory.”
“Playing the noble recluse — does he really think that’ll fly…”
By now Yan Lingzhong had turned quite stern. “We who study strive to offer our learning and our skill in service of the throne. As for men of genuinely detached temperament, I’ve certainly met a few in my time — but Ning Liheng, at your age, to use that as an excuse, isn’t that simply treating everyone here as fools!”
Before Ning Yi could finish what he was about to say, Princess Zhou Qing spoke again: “Master Yan speaks rightly. Ning Liheng, I was genuinely curious as to just what sort of outstanding man my cousin held in such regard, but you keep deflecting and deflecting — what exactly are your intentions? I’ll say this plainly here and now: if you truly gained your position as a guest scholar of a princely household through deceit and false pretense, and swindled my cousin in the process, I will not let this go easily. Do you really think no one here is capable of doing what Master Pan just described?”
Just as she finished, and the crowd was about to voice agreement, another voice rang out from the side: “Ninth Sister, whatever this is about, it’s a matter for Prince Kang’s household either way. Master Ning is my little sister’s teacher — don’t you think you’re all going a bit far?” At that moment, the young woman who had appeared amid the crowd was unmistakably Zhou Pei.
…
Watching how things were unfolding, Zhou Pei wasn’t entirely sure what Ning Yi was thinking, but she knew she had no choice but to step forward. As she made her way into the group, most of those present didn’t recognize her, but Zhou Qing and the others had already spotted her. Zhou Qing said with a smile, “So little Pei has come too. This has nothing to do with Prince Chong’s household at the moment, of course, but you and I are sisters — if you’ve truly been deceived by this man, how could I simply stand by and do nothing?”
“But even so, don’t you think this has gotten rather out of hand?”
As the two sisters spoke, people in the crowd were pointing and whispering to those who didn’t know: “That’s County Mistress Zhou Pei of Prince Kang’s household.”
Xue Gongyuan said, “Your Highness mustn’t let yourself be deceived by such a scoundrel…” Yan Lingzhong and the others chimed in as well, saying it was indeed necessary to verify things. Zhou Qing, too, maintained an air of concern. In truth, faced with such a unanimous chorus of voices, even Zhou Pei — raised as she’d been within a princely household, but still not one to have seen much of the wider world — found herself unable to hold her ground. She managed a few words of rebuttal, and then, quite suddenly, she heard Ning Yi say, “So that’s how it is… Little Pei, come here.”
…
For Ning Yi, the whole situation unfolding before him now was quite unexpected as well, but what concerned him most wasn’t how to extract himself from this thorny predicament — it was the full sequence of events behind it, and just who exactly had set their sights on him from the shadows.
After all, when he thought about it, he really had done nothing to deserve this. Since arriving in the capital, he hadn’t, by his own reckoning, dealt with all that many people, nor had he made an enemy of anyone significant enough to warrant a scheme this elaborate. Before this had happened, not even Yu Hezhong, Chen Sifeng, or Li Shishi could possibly have guessed that someone would come after him like this — he’d still been mulling over how difficult it was to be the reigning courtesan of the capital. Who could have known that, out of nowhere, every finger would suddenly be pointing squarely at him. If anything left Ning Yi feeling truly helpless, it was precisely this kind of abrupt, out-of-nowhere development.
This tricky situation wasn’t without a certain urgency for him, but his silence, his stalling, and even his provocations, had all primarily served one purpose: to observe everyone’s expressions and reactions. Amid all the noise, he’d already been able to sketch a rough outline of events — but it wasn’t until Zhou Pei suddenly appeared, until he heard her words and saw the look on her face, that Ning Yi abruptly assembled the whole picture in his mind.
And then… he sighed.
He never would have guessed it would be over this.
Looking at Zhou Pei now, her face flushed red, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, her hair slightly disheveled, Ning Yi found himself recalling her demeanor when she’d come to see him the day before. Everything was fine here, everyone took good care of her, the sisters at Prince Chong’s household were all very kind to her… it seemed all of that had been a lie. Thinking back on it now, the way she’d hesitated over her words at times when she’d come to see him yesterday…
She had no acquaintances here in the capital, and coming to find him — she’d probably wanted to unburden herself of something. And even… a couple of days earlier, at the poetry gathering at Cai Mu Garden, she had seemed to be genuinely hoping he’d come…
If it had simply been some minor friction at an ordinary poetry gathering, or if Ji Wanqing had wanted to needle Li Shishi and picked some petty fight over it, he could have understood it, would have taken it as nothing out of the ordinary. But this business with Zhou Pei was something he genuinely hadn’t anticipated, and it stirred up a flicker of anger in him that he found hard to suppress. In truth, judging by the attitude of Yu Shaoyuan and some of the others present, they must have known about this beforehand as well. And so he sighed. “So that’s how it is… Little Pei, come here.”
His tone was flat, and toward Zhou Pei, it came out perhaps a touch brusque. Xue Gongyuan slapped the table. “How dare you speak to the county mistress like that…” The others, too, seemed to feel this fell somewhat short of proper etiquette. In truth, the fashion of the Wu Dynasty at present held that scholar-officials shared in governing the realm together with the emperor, and so, even though Zhou Qing and the others were attending this poetry gathering alongside everyone else, and many present held no official rank at all, no one behaved with excessive deference toward the imperial family. Still, a basic degree of respect was, of course, expected.
And yet, Zhou Pei had already walked toward Ning Yi.
She wore a long, full-length skirt, and at that moment her whole frame seemed to look somewhat small; having broken a bit of a sweat earlier, she hadn’t been minding her posture, and now, standing before Ning Yi, she looked somewhat wronged, somewhat guilty, unsure of what to say. Ning Yi smiled. “Weren’t you saying just the other day how well things were going for you here…” He reached out and gently patted her head, then turned aside. “All right, then — paper and brush.”
Zhou Pei shrank her head down and let out a small, startled “Huh?” before following after him.
There was plenty of paper and ink around; Ning Yi, holding Yu Shaoyuan’s Nian Nu Jiao in one hand, set it down, pulled over another sheet of rice paper, and began writing without further ceremony.
“Write poems, write poems, all anyone knows is writing poems…” His brush moved across the paper, his expression cold; he sighed. “A man writes a good poem, composes a fine piece of prose, and suddenly he’s a truly fine man, or at least someone more capable than the ordinary sort… honestly, all of you…”
The two people seated nearby craned their necks to look at what he was writing. Elsewhere, the crowd was still sneering: “Look at him, putting on such airs, what’s he playing at.” “Just posturing.” A few of the older men, seeing that he had finally consented to pick up the brush, exchanged glances. Xue Gongyuan said, “Finally willing to write, is he? I was just about to tell you — even if you really can scribble out a couple of mediocre verses, that doesn’t mean you’re a man of outstanding talent!”
Ning Yi paid this no mind. Feeling irritated, he wrote quickly, and before long, he had finished. He snatched up both Yu Shaoyuan’s sheet and his own, walked forward, with Zhou Pei following alongside.
Around him, some sneered, others protested, no one quite sure what game he was playing. Ning Yi shook his head. “It seems, in the end, we really are country bumpkins from Jiangning… You wanted a poem, here it is, written. As for the Academy placement, I don’t want it — and Shaoyuan, brother, you might as well pass on it too… A gathering as lively as this is exactly the sort of place all of you ought to be enjoying. I still have pressing matters to attend to, so I’ll take my leave.” He walked over to a small table at the front of the pavilion, set the two sheets of paper and the brush down with a crisp slap, and while straightening his sleeve, leaned down to murmur into Shishi’s ear: “I’m heading off. Sorry — let’s get together again next time.”
Shishi nodded.
Amid the uproar, Xue Gongyuan and the others had already leapt up, slapping the table. The old man bellowed, “What is the meaning of this! You think you can just pull this kind of stunt and walk away! You think scribbling out any old verse means you can outclass everyone here! You haven’t even explained yourself about this business of the princely household — did you really think you could just leave! What is this rubbish you’ve written…”
He stepped forward, snatched up the sheet of rice paper from the table. By now, everyone at the gathering was talking about how Ning Yi seemed to be trying to flee the scene, but in the end, no one stopped him — after all, once this became a laughingstock today, even the authorities wouldn’t let Ning Yi off easily. Amid all the noise and mockery, few noticed that the two men who had watched Ning Yi write the whole poem from start to finish were now sitting there in silence, exchanging uneasy, uncertain glances.
Ning Yi had already walked several paces away. Xue Gongyuan, trembling with the thought that they were about to let him escape, shouted: “Your Highness, don’t let this swindler fool you… Hmph, what’s this… ‘A magnolia-wood oar, a sandalwood-plank boat, jade flutes and gilded pipes seated at either end’… what rubbish is this — Ning Liheng, stand right there, don’t you dare walk away… ‘fine wine’… ‘in the vessel’… uh, uh… you, you this…”
Even as he shouted and cursed, chasing a few more steps forward, ready to dismiss the verses on the page as garbage, his footsteps gradually slowed, his voice trailing lower and lower, until he simply stood there, staring wide-eyed at the poem on the paper, his hand beginning to tremble, his old face flushing red then pale in rapid succession, as though overcome by emotion. Seeing him like this, the jeering around them quieted down; no one understood what was happening. Yan Lingzhong and the others hesitantly stepped closer; Yu Shaoyuan and Ji Wanqing glanced first at the retreating figure of Ning Yi, then at Xue Gongyuan, utterly at a loss as to what was going on, or what exactly was written on that page. Even Shishi, sitting quietly off to the side, couldn’t help craning her neck, curious just what poem Ning Yi could have written to simply toss it down and walk away, leaving the whole gathering in this state.