The sky had been overcast for a while, but once the great white cloud drifted away, it cleared up again, afternoon sunlight falling over half of Bianliang. Passing through the courtyard with an armful of folded clothes, Yun Zhu saw Jin’er sitting on the corner edge of the roof. She sat on the tiles, knees together, chin propped in her hands, gazing out beyond the courtyard, body swaying slightly. She seemed at ease, though who knew what she was actually thinking.

“Hey.” Yun Zhu called out softly. “Careful you don’t fall.”

“…Sister Yun Zhu, I won’t.” Jin’er turned to see who it was, then laughed. In truth there wasn’t much risk — she was naturally nimble, her old dancing skills mixed with a bit of acrobatics, and she was quite good at balance and coordination, able to climb up lightly without any danger of tumbling off clumsily.

“You can see so far from up here.”

Jin’er said this with a smile, then stood up, gazing out at the distance — the streets, the surrounding courtyards — then spread her arms wide and closed her eyes, tilting her head back. The girl had a lovely figure, her legs naturally long and slender; standing there now with arms outstretched, sunlight slanting down from the eaves, the breeze stirring her pale yellow sleeves and pressing her thin robes against her body — for a moment, bathed in sunlight, she looked like an immortal about to take flight on the wind.

“Careful — should I find you a ladder?”

“No~ need~.”

Yun Zhu shook her head with a smile and went into the room. A little while later, Jin’er came down too, bouncing in cheerfully to help Yun Zhu fold a few pieces of clothing. On this trip north, not even Jin’er’s maid Kou’er had come along, since there weren’t enough hands to spare — soon the Bamboo Registry staff would be heading north as well, and Kou’er needed to stay behind to lead that group. But the small day-to-day tasks, Yun Zhu was quite capable of managing herself.

Though she appeared somewhat delicate, ever since leaving the brothel she had gradually learned to do all sorts of things. When Ning Yi first met her, she hadn’t even known how to kill a chicken, but over time she’d picked up this and that. Now that the Bamboo Registry had grown large, even though there was little need for her to do things by hand anymore, when small tasks came up that she could manage herself, she didn’t bother calling for a maid.

As far as she was concerned, she was no longer some official’s daughter, so there was no need to keep up such airs — plenty of small things were worth learning to do herself. Of course, sometimes when Ning Yi noticed this, he understood that the resilience and self-discipline she’d cultivated had already become part of her, just as her once-detached temperament and refined bearing had long since been carved into her very being. No matter what she learned to do from others, she’d probably never turn into some simple country girl.

Jin’er knew a bit less. When Yun Zhu did the cooking, she’d simply tag along to help out. Back in Jiangning, tasks were usually handled by Hutao and his wife, or by Kou’er. Sometimes when Ning Yi came by and found only the two of them there, Yun Zhu would be cooking while Jin’er showed off how much firewood she’d helped chop. Ning Yi had found it rather exasperating — splitting a log into perfectly even, uniform pieces looked more like carpentry than firewood-chopping; neat and pretty, but not necessarily good kindling. And helping tend the fire usually left her own face covered in soot.

Once, when the maid was out, the two of them had tried killing a chicken together. Yun Zhu had gotten fairly practiced at it by then, with Jin’er helping on the side — the result was chicken blood splattered halfway up both their bodies, feathers flying everywhere, an absolute mess. Ning Yi happened to walk by right then, finding Jin’er’s face still half-covered in blood and feathers, while the poor chicken — which had burst into a last surge of life halfway through dying — had been beaten flat by Jin’er with a stick, an utterly wretched sight. In the end, they hadn’t dared eat it, and Ning Yi had to clean up the mangled bird himself, digging a hole by the riverside to bury it. They’d even set up a little wooden grave marker, and the two women had knelt beside it, bowing to the chicken and begging it not to come back for revenge.

Of course, what the two of them never knew was that Ning Yi didn’t believe in ghosts or spirits at all. Leaving their house that day, he’d paused by the little grave marker on the roadside, unable to resist giving it a kick that sent the wooden marker flying into the river, then walked off without a backward glance. But after a few steps, he’d felt a bit bad about it, gone back to the riverbank, fished the marker out, and stuck it back in the ground — thinking to himself that he’d apparently caught Yuan Jin’er’s foolishness like a disease.

By the time they left Jiangning, that little grave was still buried by the river beside the small tower — whether the two of them had ever gone to say goodbye to it, who could say.

But regardless, these two women, both having come from similar paths out of the brothel, had gone on relying on each other to get by — sometimes embarrassing, sometimes funny, sometimes happy enough to make others envious. Perhaps this was exactly why Ning Yi had once told Jin’er, “Between the two of you and Yun Zhu, it’s hard to say who’s closer to whom.”

But no matter how close they were now — sisters in all but blood, perhaps even closer than sisters — the two of them had lately developed a small rift. The cause of this rift lay mainly with Jin’er; she felt somewhat guilty about certain things, not daring to bring them up with Yun Zhu, and this had been going on for several days now. After putting away the clothes, the two of them went, out of boredom, to the second-floor hall at the front of Wenhui Tower for tea, taking a small booth by the window, screened off, where they nibbled pastries and made small talk. Yun Zhu sat by the window looking out at the street; at one point she leaned out, having spotted a carriage that might have been from their own place, only to realize the driver wasn’t Dongzhu.

“That’s not…”

“He went to see that Li Shishi. Still not back at this hour, and Sister Yun Zhu, you don’t even say anything about it.”

“Li Shishi’s known him since childhood…”

“Pah, he said so himself — living on the same street, probably never even spoke to each other, and that’s supposed to count as ‘knowing’ someone… That woman is the number one courtesan of the capital, Sister Yun Zhu. Women like that love nothing more than stories of talented scholars and beauties…”

Since it had already come up, the two of them exchanged a few more words on the matter. As for Ning Yi and Li Shishi, Jin’er felt something was off — though these past couple of days, anything involving Ning Yi seemed to strike her as suspicious. And besides, he’d apparently told Xiao Chan that morning he’d be back by noon, yet there was still no sign of him at this hour. She wasn’t sure whether she should tattle on him to Sister Yun Zhu.

Of course, even if she brought it up, Sister Yun Zhu would probably just say, “Men have their own business to attend to.” Well, didn’t women have their own business too? So infuriating.

When Ning Yi came up in conversation, Sister Yun Zhu would sometimes give her one of those meaningfully amused looks, making her feel embarrassed, so after a moment the topic died off. Jin’er, unable to sit still, wandered over to look at the expensive folding screen nearby, and happened to overhear the people at the table outside talking about some poetry gathering, all very mysterious, then reciting poems.

“…This one, then — the boat of magnolia and sand-pear wood, jade flutes and gold pipes seated at either end. Fine wine stored a thousand measures in the vessel, courtesans aboard, drifting wherever the current takes…”

Hmph, decent enough poem, though these idle Bianliang fellows do nothing all day but hold poetry gatherings — and “jade flutes and gold pipes,” tsk, how frivolous. Disgusting! Must be some veiled innuendo, whoever wrote this is surely some lecher…

So she thought to herself, as more chattering rose from the other side, then someone said, “Here, take a look — see the quality of this one, truly impressive… The lay of the southeast, gathering place of the Three Wu regions, Qiantang has been prosperous since ancient times. Misty willows, painted bridges, wind-screens and jade-green curtains, a hundred thousand households scattered close and far. Clouds and trees ring the embankment sands…”

Wait, isn’t this… that fellow’s ci poem?

She blinked in surprise, then turned around. “Sister Yun Zhu, Sister Yun Zhu, come quick — someone’s plagiarizing Ning Yi’s poem, how shameless…” She pulled Yun Zhu over, and the two of them stood by the screen listening as the poem was recited to its end with much head-bobbing, followed by another burst of animated discussion.

“…Everyone, I too have good sources — I only just got hold of these two poems myself. I hear Miss Shishi herself was there at the time, and it wasn’t just these two — over a dozen poems were dropped all at once, everyone was left completely speechless, stunned into silence. This all just happened at noon today, at that Cuiwei estate — hasn’t spread yet, but by tonight I’d guess plenty of people will know, and by tomorrow, tsk, it’ll be the talk of the whole Dragon Boat Festival — probably going to overshadow everything else…”

Jin’er and Yun Zhu exchanged a glance. “That man… wasn’t he just supposed to be going to see Li Shishi? What’s he gone and stirred up now?”

Yun Zhu thought for a moment, shook her head, then burst out laughing. There wasn’t much more to be made out from where they sat, so the two of them returned to their seats by the window. Jin’er’s curiosity was practically itching at her. “Didn’t he say it was just a small gathering with a few people? How did it turn into this? What is he even doing? Over a dozen poems dropped all at once? Good heavens… Sister Yun Zhu, listen to this one — ‘the boat of magnolia and sand-pear wood, jade flutes and gold pipes’… just this one alone is enough to floor people.”

She tilted her head back, eyes wide. “Goodness, over a dozen poems — he never did anything like this back in Jiangning… If he really dropped them all at once like that, what on earth would that even look like?” She knew well enough how talented Ning Yi was, but for him to unleash more than ten poems in one go, if even a fraction were this striking, it wouldn’t just be a poetry gathering anymore — it would be something else entirely. Just thinking about it made her too restless to sit still; she genuinely wished she could have been there to see the whole scene for herself.

“Tomorrow’s the Dragon Boat Festival, and this man’s already doing this… Isn’t he about to trample every scholar in Bianliang underfoot? Who could’ve made him this angry?” As she spoke, she couldn’t help but sound a little thrilled.

Yun Zhu was clearly imagining the same scene — more than ten poems unveiled all at once — and after a moment, she propped her chin in her hand and laughed, looking at Jin’er. Jin’er turned to look back at her, and after a moment, her face flushed slightly. “Sister Yun Zhu, why are you looking at me like that…”

“Just remembering when I first met him.”

“Hm?”

“I remember, before that — he pulled me out of the river, and helped me kill a chicken, I’ve told you about that, haven’t I?” Yun Zhu smiled, recalling it, then paused. “Later… that day I went to Jinfeng Tower to teach music, and you gave me money for it too — that was the same day I first heard about ‘When Will the Bright Moon Appear.’ It was right after Mid-Autumn Festival, and everyone was talking about it. I remember thinking to myself, what kind of person could this be… Later, leaving Jinfeng Tower, I ran into the man who’d saved me on the road, and went over to thank him — he was buying charcoal to make writing sticks. It was only after walking along with him that I learned his name wasn’t Huyan Leifeng at all, but Ning Liheng…”

Jin’er had heard bits and pieces about how Yun Zhu and Ning Yi first met, though not all of it. Listening quietly now to Sister Yun Zhu tell the story, after a moment she realized that Sister Yun Zhu, too, had once heard about Ning Liheng’s poetry before actually meeting him — much like what she’d just heard today — and the same kind of excitement crept over her, her face flushing at once. “I— I didn’t— I don’t have any— Sister Yun Zhu…”

She wasn’t sure what to say, but just then, in the corner of her eye, she saw Dongzhu driving the carriage, already returning down the road.

Ning Yi entered Wenhui Tower through the side door, seeming to be lost in thought, and went straight into the courtyard. Yun Zhu and Jin’er walked over to the inner corridor on the second floor and saw him exchange a few words with Xiao Chan, then glance over toward their own courtyard — apparently, seeing they weren’t there, he went back to his room.

After Yun Zhu and Jin’er went downstairs and passed by the corridor near that courtyard, they glanced in through the doorway and saw Ning Yi sitting at his desk, writing with a serious expression. These past few days, both of them had known he had a great deal to do, often sitting deep in thought and hard at work at his desk — a side of him they’d never heard of or seen back in Jiangning.

What they’d just overheard in the hall downstairs had clearly been something he’d done that morning at the estate, and it would likely set all of Bianliang abuzz by tomorrow. Yet looking at him now, it seemed this occupied hardly any space in his mind at all — having returned, he simply sank right back into his work and his thoughts…