In the afternoon, at Bamboo Records, the guests who were expected began arriving one after another.

As was customary at any social gathering, those of lesser standing tended to arrive earliest. Candidates come to sit the imperial exams, students from the Imperial Academy — including Chen Dong, an academy student who had once personally come to reprimand Ning Yi — all arrived relatively early. In terms of scale, this could pass, just barely, as a gathering of noted scholars.

Of course, for this spring examination season in the capital, few of the most celebrated talents actually came. Just as Song Yongping had anticipated earlier, partly out of pride, and partly because those who truly sought merit would find it, real scholarship always belonged to those willing to bury themselves in study. With the exams drawing near, anyone genuinely hoping for a good result would already be tense with nerves by now, and unlikely to attend a poetry gathering like this.

Aside from these scholars and the wealthy sons who came along for the fun, the next arrivals were some of the idle men-about-town of Bianliang — members of the Juanwen Society, men like Qin Mowen, Xue Gongyuan, and Yan Lingzhong, who’d clashed with Ning Yi the previous Dragon Boat Festival, and a scattering of minor officials who could be swayed by borrowing Qin Sizhi’s authority — this last owing to Ning Yi having brought Yao Zunian in to lend his presence. Once this crowd arrived, the Sunset Glow Pavilion within Bamboo Records finally took on the appearance of a proper gathering.

Mixed in among them were also a number of women from the pleasure houses — Fan Tower, Xiaozhu Pavilion, and others — mostly the more celebrated talented beauties able to attend that day. Ning Yi had spent quite a bit of money to have them mingle and seek out acquaintances in the crowd, keeping the atmosphere lively. As for those responsible for the performances, Li Shishi and her group had arrived rather early — carriages had already come by mid-afternoon — but this was only to further decorate the performance stage; for the time being, it was only Li Yun who came out to greet people.

Song Yongping had spent a long while searching high and low for Ning Yi, but ever since noon had passed, the man had been nowhere to be seen in the main hall of Bamboo Records.

To him, this was genuinely rather odd. A merchant making his way in the capital, running two shops, hardly a great and wealthy clan — to build up a banquet event to such a scale and then simply vanish? Even his own father would scarcely dare show such negligence. He thought perhaps his brother-in-law had already learned of Young Master Gao’s plan to make trouble and was off dealing with it. But to be safe, he asked around further, and finally found Ning Yi in the courtyard behind Sunset Glow Pavilion.

By this time the sunlight had begun slanting westward, its glow falling across the old courtyard’s eaves and corridors, giving it a pleasant brightness. The noise from the front drifted faintly this way. When Bamboo Records’ two Bianliang shops had opened, they’d bought up a fair amount of surrounding property, renovating part of it for business use, leaving the grounds quite spacious. This wasn’t particularly unusual — in a feudal society, the gap between rich and poor, and the vast range of social standing, meant that the closer one got to the heart of Bianliang, the less crowded the land actually became, compared to the outskirts — itself a mark of power and connections.

When Bamboo Records had purchased the land, Ning Yi had made a point of enlisting the monk Juemíng’s help, along with deliberately invoking the name of the Chancellor’s residence — as long as one was willing to spend the money, everything had gone smoothly. At present, less than half of the renovated area was in use as shop space; the rest remained in its original state, awaiting step-by-step expansion. When Song Yongping arrived, he found Ning Yi sitting in a pavilion within the courtyard, deep in thought, facing the small pond ahead, his expression serious, fingers tapping against the pavilion railing beside him — the tapping without any discernible rhythm, as though he were calculating something with his fingers. But upon seeing Song Yongping approach, Ning Yi stopped his musing and smiled at him.

“Yongping… something wrong? Sit.” Ning Yi noticed the look on his face, smiled with a slight frown, and gestured for him to sit.

“I imagine Brother-in-law already knows about the matter, I take it?”

Song Yongping stepped into the pavilion, his gaze and stride composed, and got straight to the point once seated. Ning Yi, however, looked genuinely puzzled. “What matter?”

“The Grand Marshal’s residence.”

“Eh?”

Song Yongping sat upright, waiting for Ning Yi to produce the reaction he’d expected. In the circles he moved in, exchanges between gentlemen of intellect generally proceeded this way — much like the interactions between his father and his father’s advisors — calm, composed, yet able to precisely grasp the other’s meaning. But after a moment, he realized he’d overestimated Ning Yi. The man blinked, looking utterly bewildered, thoroughly failing to play along.

You don’t even know that the Grand Marshal’s residence is coming to make trouble, and here you are worrying yourself over something else entirely!

Somewhat taken aback, he added, “Brother-in-law, surely you know about the matter with Young Master Gao?”

Ning Yi leaned back slightly. Hearing that name, the first feeling that rose in him was amusement. “Gao Mu’en? What’s he done now?”

“Mm… I heard from people outside that this Young Master Gao is planning to come make trouble for you today, Brother-in-law — he’s supposedly gathered a group of people, intending to come smash up this shop and disrupt Bamboo Records’ performance today.” Song Yongping paused, waiting for Ning Yi to absorb what he’d said. “This man doesn’t seem like someone easy to deal with.”

Ning Yi frowned in thought for a moment, then gave Song Yongping a rather thoughtful glance. “I heard you say yesterday you’d be reviewing your books at home today… is this why you’ve come?” Having asked, he nodded with a smile and added, “Gao Mu’en, heh, indeed not someone easy to deal with.”

“I only heard about it from a friend. Besides, I did genuinely want to come hear your new lyrics, brother-in-law, and I wasn’t sure why this pavilion is called Sunset Glow.” Song Yongping said this with a smile, then turned serious again. “But to return to the matter — I do understand that doing business in the capital generally requires some backing. Given the influence of the Grand Marshal’s residence, though, this can’t be taken lightly. I wonder if you have a plan, brother-in-law.”

Ning Yi looked at him, his expression mild. “What do you think, Yongping?”

“I’m new here myself, and I don’t know how many useful connections you have at your disposal, brother-in-law. But this is the Grand Marshal’s residence we’re talking about — if it comes to confronting them, it’s probably not something an ordinary person can manage easily… If it truly can’t be avoided, I’ve already had an audience with the Right Chancellor once since coming to the capital this time. Given the relationship between my father and the Chancellor, and your own longstanding ties to the Chancellor’s residence, brother-in-law, perhaps we could ask the Chancellor to lend a hand with this matter… After all, it is rather a vulgar sort of business affair, when it comes down to it…”

Aware that time was running short, Song Yongping laid out everything on his mind. As he saw it, Ning Yi had frequent dealings with the Chancellor’s residence, but even managing some accounts for the Chancellor’s household aside, Gao Mu’en was of the younger generation, and this was, after all, a rather mercenary business matter — someone of Qin Sizhi’s standing would, at most, only step in and say a word after the shop had already been smashed up. But with the added weight of his own family’s connections, perhaps Qin Sizhi could be persuaded to nip the danger in the bud before it happened. Sunlight streamed down into the pavilion as Song Yongping laid out the delicate calculations involved, speaking low. Ning Yi watched him, his expression carrying a fair measure of admiration.

“Yongping, you’re quite well-versed in these matters.”

“Not especially well-versed, really,” Song Yongping said modestly. “I’m just curious how you came to cross this Young Master Gao in the first place, brother-in-law.”

“There were two run-ins when he came around here, spoiling his fun, I suppose… Later someone played a trick on him, and he probably chalked it up to me. This man tends toward recklessness, doesn’t think things through — if he really kicks up a fuss, it could get troublesome.”

“Better to prepare early, then.” Song Yongping offered this as a hint — meaning, if they were going to the Chancellor’s residence, now was the time to set out! Though the guest-advisor Yao Zunian was currently present at the residence, without Qin Sizhi personally speaking up, a guest-advisor’s standing simply couldn’t compare to that of his own son, and there was no guarantee the man would exert himself fully on the matter either. In officialdom, this was simply how things worked — a guest-advisor dared not bring major trouble upon his patron’s household.

“Mm.” Ning Yi nodded, then after a moment, said with a smile, “Oh, by the way, Miss Shishi has already arrived. Would you like to go meet her?”

Song Yongping, puzzled, said, “…I’ll surely get the chance to meet her later — no need right now. You go tend to your business, brother-in-law, I’ll head to the front.”

“Fair enough, enjoy yourself. I’ll have someone deal with the Gao Mu’en matter shortly, nothing to worry about. But I appreciate you making the trip over to tell me, Yongping.”

“We’re family — no need to stand on ceremony between us.”

Song Yongping cupped his hands with a smile. Sharp as he was, he could already tell from Ning Yi’s expression that there was no need to call in every possible favor and go begging the Chancellor’s residence for help. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder how a small-time merchant could possibly have this kind of backing. But he was also a proud man himself, and having already said rather more than he’d meant to out of concern, he took his leave and headed back to the front. As he left, he glanced back and saw Ning Yi, having seen him off, turn back into the pavilion, fingers once again tapping at his side — already sunk back into his thoughts.

…

Ning Yi sat back down in the pavilion, pushed the fruit tray on the small stone table aside a little, and lightly tapped his fingers on the tabletop, letting his mind drift back into its earlier contemplation.

Earlier, after speaking with Chen Fan, he’d met briefly with Shishi and Li Yun, who’d come to prepare for the performance, and after a short conversation hadn’t gone to the front to receive guests or oversee arrangements. Managing the shop was the manager’s job, and the performance was Shishi’s area of expertise — letting professionals handle their own affairs was the proper way of things, and he had no wish to overinvolve himself in such matters.

As for Gao Mu’en, there was no need to take it too seriously for now. Since returning from Liangshan, he’d already established connections with certain underworld forces within Bianliang through the Secret Investigation Bureau, and he always had a number of Bureau operatives he could call on nearby. Most importantly, Gao Mu’en likely didn’t hold much standing in Gao Qiu’s estimation — however he’d suddenly been let out, given today’s circumstances at Bamboo Records, the man couldn’t stir up much real trouble, and likely wouldn’t dare to try, either.

The only real concern was whether Gao Mu’en’s sudden appearance might be some sort of exploratory signal from Gao Qiu, testing the waters before moving against him. But thinking it over, the likelihood of that seemed quite slim.

The real trouble worth considering was that Liu Xigua woman running off to rescue Fang Qifo.

Under the direction of Junior Tutor Wang Fu, several of the Wu Dynasty’s most prominent great clans had already set their sights on the matter of escorting Fang Qifo to the capital. It wasn’t that they treated the matter as terribly serious in itself, but honestly, even a small amount of effort from each of these clans carried an influence far beyond what one or two people, or even a hundred or two hundred, could match. With the Yongle uprising now entirely crushed, even if the entire Overlord Blade Camp mobilized, it wouldn’t stir up much of a splash.

Compared to Liangshan’s overt display of force, Ning Yi understood in his heart that these great clans were the true leviathans lurking beneath the surface. On the larger scale, they were busy cooperating with Wang Fu, Cai Jing, Tong Guan, and others in purchasing back northern cities, eager to restore trade between north and south, and preparing for the new era of business that would follow the fall of the Liao. As for Fang Qifo, at present these clans would, at most, engage in a bit of talk, watching as several hundred men from the Ministry of Justice escorted the prisoner north. But should any force attempting to rescue him grow in strength, the opposing force would inevitably grow correspondingly larger still — and just how far that escalation might go currently had no upper limit at all.

Even if Fang Qifo could somehow be spirited away in some lightning-fast strike, what awaited afterward would be a manhunt spanning the length and breadth of Jiangnan. If things went badly, what little remained of the Overlord Blade Camp’s forces would be entirely swallowed up in it, and even those who’d managed to escape after the fall of the Yongle regime would likely be dragged back out into the open under such circumstances.

Ning Yi was fundamentally opposed to rescuing Fang Qifo. Even after asking Chen Fan for the detailed situation, all he was really considering was how to persuade Liu Xigua otherwise. The girl’s temperament was simply too stubborn — he had no confidence in how to convince her — and the Ministry of Justice’s forces this time were already quite formidable. If he really did rush over there, and Xigua’s group had already been intercepted, he’d need some plan prepared in advance for how to handle it, to give them the best chance of getting away.

The affairs of Hangzhou and Liangshan had only just concluded, and his network in the capital was barely getting off the ground — not even properly established yet — and now he was being dragged into something like this too. It was rather a headache. He was a man who believed in building real strength, and had no wish to walk any risky shortcuts. Given a few years’ time to spread out his own strength and then simply overwhelm his rivals — that was the proper way to do things. He sighed, trying his best to keep his distance from the whole affair.

But regardless, there were two things he needed to make sure of: talk Chen Fan out of it, and talk Xigua out of it.

Thinking this over, before long, as the sun continued its westward decline, Ning Yi had the shop manager make preparations in case Gao Mu’en actually did show up to cause trouble. As the sunset turned red, Wenren Bu’er came to find him, and by this time the performances up front had already begun.

As the first pavilion Ning Yi had specifically composed poetry for, tonight’s performance would feature more than one act. But to avoid giving anyone the impression that he thought too highly of himself, Ning Yi’s “new poem” was actually placed first in the whole evening’s program. Amid a burst of light and shadow effects from suddenly ignited gunpowder, Li Shishi took the stage, beginning with the first line, “Gradually, the east side of the city feels the good scenery return,” and by now had just reached the line, “Beyond the green willows, mist thins in the light morning chill; on the red apricot branches, spring stirs with noisy life.”

Amid the accompanying music, the whole pavilion, upstairs and down, had largely fallen silent, the evening sun streaming gently in through the windows; before long, night fell. Once Li Shishi’s performance concluded, this “Sunset Glow Pavilion” took its tone from the poem’s final line — “For you I raise my cup and urge the slanting sun to stay, and linger a while longer with the flowers in the sunset’s glow” — after which came a variety of other performances, along with some novel magic tricks, acrobatics, and even a couple of comic cross-talk routines mixed in.

This evening at Sunset Glow Pavilion probably wouldn’t set all of Bianliang abuzz, but it went off decently enough — nothing exceptional, but nothing lacking either. Ning Yi had also mentioned the Gao Mu’en matter to Wenren Bu’er, and the two waited for the man to show up. Yet even after another two hours had passed into the night, with the wind blowing and the brightly lit street bustling with strolling crowds, there was still no sign of anyone coming to cause trouble. Sunset Glow Pavilion’s current positioning was as a restaurant, not a theater or pleasure house — however good the performances, an evening banquet wouldn’t run late into the night, and once guests finished eating and chatting and began to leave, there wasn’t much room left for anyone to cause a disturbance anyway.

“This Gao Mu’en — after being cooped up at home for half a year, he’s turned rather inscrutable…” Ning Yi remarked, somewhat amused, watching the passersby on the street from the second-floor terrace. Firelight flickered across his figure; not far off, Wenren Bu’er shook his head.

“I don’t get any sense of him being inscrutable at all. But with a man like Gao Mu’en, nothing he does would surprise me — he might’ve just suddenly taken a fancy to some respectable woman he spotted in the street, for all we know.”

“Hm, seems Cheng Zhouhai hasn’t given him a thorough enough lesson yet…” Ning Yi rubbed his nose. “Come to think of it, how did he suddenly get let out after being locked up for half a year?”

“I asked around earlier. I heard that yesterday, at the Grand Marshal’s residence, he suddenly went wild and took a liking to Miss Shishi. Then he went crying to his father for an entire afternoon, probably wore the old man down…”

“What?”

“You didn’t know? Yesterday, at the Grand Marshal’s residence, he tried to force himself on Miss Shishi — presumably didn’t succeed… I’m not entirely clear on the details, but in any case, he ended up giving Miss Shishi a beating. I hadn’t paid much attention before, but her outfit today… isn’t the powder on her face a bit thick? Did you not see her earlier?”

Ning Yi froze for a moment. Yesterday, Shishi and Li Yun had gone to the Grand Marshal’s residence to apologize, and he’d actually traveled there together with them — he’d genuinely met with Shishi and Li Yun on two occasions since then, even chatted for a while, but Li Shishi had seemed entirely her usual self the whole time, so he hadn’t paid particular attention to any of this. Thinking back on it now, if she really had been targeted by Gao Mu’en at the Grand Marshal’s residence yesterday, the cause of it had almost certainly been himself.

“…Oh.” He nodded. “Didn’t notice…”