The year before, after Fang Qifo’s death, Chen Fan had once asked Ning Yi for the elm-wood cannon, but Ning Yi had refused — not out of any wish to erect some technological barrier. Rather, it was because of the need to deal with the Jin forces advancing south: the method for making the earth cannon had already been passed by Qin Siyuan on to the court, and if the technology leaked and Xigua’s side ended up going to war with the court with such a weapon in hand, he himself would find it very hard to escape implication.

By this point, many matters weighed more urgently on Ning Yi’s mind — especially given how sensitive Lüliang Mountain’s location truly was, which meant he had no choice but to move some of his results over to Lüliang as early as possible, to prepare for whatever troubles might come.

As for these troubles, Ning Yi still had no particularly clear grasp of them. The environment and customs of Lüliang Mountain were somewhat unusual, very different from the Central Plains. Green Wood Stronghold was meant to serve as a hub for north-south smuggling; the main consideration — regardless of whether the threat in the future came from the south or the north — was still defense. With that in mind, items like landmines and gunpowder had a great deal of use.

Of course, even something as seemingly low-tech as a stone landmine still involved a fair number of technical hurdles to overcome. In later ages, this was the simplest kind of landmine: hollow out a stone, pack it with high explosive powder, iron shavings, and the like, and add a simple ignition device — done. But at present, all Ning Yi had on hand was barely adequate high explosive powder; the ignition device was still far from mature, since that involved the emergence of matches.

Wrap sandpaper for striking around a matchhead, tie a thin cord to one end of the match. Pull the cord, produce a spark, and the mine explodes. In later times, in the early years of the founding of the People’s Republic of China, this was the method used by militia members to make homemade landmines — but in the present-day Wu Dynasty, achieving this same effect was still a considerable problem. Fortunately, the crude alchemists of this era had already made contact with the chemical transformations of sulfur, phosphorus, and the like, and with the aid of flint and extensive study of readily flammable materials, they could just barely achieve a detonating effect — though safety was low, and installation still had to be handled with great care.

But in any case, so long as there was time, under Ning Yi’s targeted direction, the development of such small items was, in the end, not especially difficult. Since he was heading to Lüliang this time, he decided to bring these still-unrefined items along in advance, if only to first get the people of Lüliang to learn how to hollow out stones.

Aside from landmines, the making of the elm-wood cannon had, on Ning Yi’s end, reached a relatively mature stage — at least, under his direction, a handful of workers doubling as gunners had already grasped the tricks of making earth cannons and the patterns of their firing trajectories. On this foundation, the cannon barrel had already begun experimenting with combining wood and steel. And the craftsmen over in Lüliang working on earthen blast furnaces had presumably also picked up some experience of their own by now.

As for the development of technology, Ning Yi knew that the safest path relied on the advance of basic science — but there was simply no time, on his end, to wait for basic science to catch up. And so, in the research labs under the Bamboo Trading House, what went on was mostly a great deal of brute-force, exhaustive experimentation.

First, settle on the methods of experimentation and the methods for recording data and steps; after that came countless trial-and-error material experiments, recording phenomena, summarizing patterns. Ning Yi’s approach in this area was simple, crude, yet highly targeted, with a single goal in mind: explosion.

Any experiment that produced fire or explosion through a different method, so long as it was original and reproducible, earned a reward. After that, comparing the exploded materials logically, looking for differences, summarizing patterns — as long as one could offer some reasonably solid explanation, more reward followed.

In this era, those who could truly be called beginners in the study of chemistry were alchemists in the mold of Gongsun Sheng, while those who had any contact with explosions were mostly craftsmen of fireworks and firecrackers. Ning Yi had brought the two groups together, set out basic rules, established tiers of reward, and left the rest to their own initiative.

But what truly mattered here were the basic rules involving “comparison” and “exhaustive testing.” Over the course of a year or two, even the craftsmen originally recruited into the Bamboo Trading House with only average talent had already grasped basic methods of scientific research, including an understanding of the existence of various basic elements — something Ning Yi had, of course, taught them from the start — and had by now developed their own frameworks of understanding around it.

At present, craftsmen in the Wu Dynasty held a low social status; though the Ministry of Works’ Bureau of Manufacture, responsible for military equipment, also had a firearms division, even the craftsmen there, minor officials though they might be, could not possibly match the treatment Ning Yi was able to offer. And beyond monetary rewards, the Bamboo Trading House could also use its connections with the Chancellor’s household to get craftsmen’s children into private schools — something even more coveted, to the point that quite a few craftsmen in the Bureau of Manufacture’s firearms division were now secretly doing side work for Ning Yi’s operation.

“…Pack the things properly, cushion them well, it’s a long road, mind you don’t knock anything. And keep a close eye on the gunpowder — not a single spark near it, Xiao Si, all of you had better take this seriously…” In the courtyard, rain was falling as Ning Yi checked over the goods to be taken to Lüliang, giving instructions to everyone, while also, on the side, listening to his wife tell him about matters at home.

“…That gobang tournament the Bamboo Trading House put on has had a good turnout lately — even Manager Nie and his people have been joining in the fun. It’s practically as regular now as the sparring matches the guards hold every five days. Sister Nie’s been running things quite efficiently.”

“As long as she’s found something she likes doing. As for Manager Nie — hasn’t he still not taken a wife? Trying to show off in front of the girls, is he?”

Tan’er pressed her lips together and smiled. “That’s certainly possible.”

The gobang tournament Tan’er mentioned belonged to the Bamboo Trading House, which by now had expanded to a considerable scale. Centered on Bianliang, it had already opened fourteen restaurants — though the famine-relief affair had earned Ning Yi no small number of enemies, the network of connections it had built up was, for a business like the Bamboo Trading House, quite formidable; there was hardly a link in the chain without friends or partners, and combined with Ning Yi’s own abilities, once a plan was drawn up, contracts signed, and money invested, everything simply moved into a self-sustaining cycle, achieving a soft landing.

Beyond the restaurants, nearly thirty Bamboo Trading House carts went out in every direction, each staffed with two bodyguards, one salesman, one tailor, one storyteller, with numbers adjusted as needed. Beyond that, there was a large compound outside the city devoted to various kinds of research, currently numbering close to three hundred people. There were workshops producing coal briquettes, coal stoves, perfume, soap, mosquito coils, fruit juice, and other goods, a printing workshop run jointly with the Wang family, the workshops, shops, and design staff of the Su Cloth House, the current residents of the Ning family estate, and so on and so forth — adding it all up, the number of people currently making their living under Ning Yi and Su Tan’er, husband and wife, had already grown to over four thousand.

To expand to such a scale within a year or two — Ning Yi had never once let up on providing for these people’s lives and leisure; the corporate culture of later ages had, in fact, sprung from exactly this kind of thing. In truth, in this age without electricity, the poverty of ordinary people’s entertainment was something people of later ages could scarcely imagine. Daytime was manageable enough, but at night, aside from taking a woman to bed, there was almost nothing else to do. Back when he had few people under him, Ning Yi had already made a point of having his staff organize a variety show once every half month; the Bamboo Trading House had storytellers, acrobats among its ranks, and could arrange for skilled singing and dancing girls as well — none of this was difficult to manage.

Of course, entertainment wasn’t limited to just watching performances. Once the martial artists from Dulong Ridge had joined, Ning Yi, under the banner of physical fitness, organized sparring matches, kickball games, and the like, and had his storytellers give these things good reputations to spread internally — saying, for instance, that so-and-so at Wanzhao Tower had an unrivaled pair of iron fists, or that so-and-so at Yuyan Tower had extraordinary leg techniques, once renowned across the Hebei region, and so on. At this point the Bamboo Trading House was still centered around its various restaurants, and amid the gossip people couldn’t help but wonder who among them was actually the strongest. Every ten days or half month, there would be a sparring selection round, after which the fighters would be matched up to compete, and those who did well would be rewarded.

Among the martial artists who had come from Dulong Ridge, some had originally been ruthless killers on Liangshan; after their reform and repentance, their temperaments had, if anything, grown gentle, and they had little appetite for rewards. But the young disciples they had trained were still keenly interested in such things. And on the other side, though the spectators at these matches were mostly Bamboo Trading House employees, there were women among them too — even women from Fan Tower, upon hearing of it, would find excuses to come and watch. For the competitors, this was, in fact, an enormous source of encouragement.

Ning Yi insisted strictly that the sparring stay oriented toward strengthening the body, with matches stopping the moment a point was made — though in private, exchanging pointers freely was fine. Because it was well managed, these martial artists, who already had ties from their days at Dulong Ridge, did not end up hurting their friendships even after competing, and it also helped the employees of the Bamboo Trading House get to know one another better. A few “star” employees even emerged from this — some former Liangshan killers, some of the young disciples they had trained — and, thanks to word getting around, most people at the Bamboo Trading House now knew that so-and-so at such-and-such tower was quite the fighter, or that so-and-so was always ready to help others. By the time this year’s spring came and most people gathered in the capital to collect their New Year bonuses, Ning Yi even had Zhu Biao spar with Gongsun Sheng from the research compound — though the match leaned mostly toward performance, both men were true masters, and it still left everyone watching wide-eyed with wonder.

In these matches, it was mostly the martial artists gathered at the Bamboo Trading House who took the spotlight. Beyond that, the gobang tournament had actually gotten its start in Tan’er’s cloth house — it was Juan’er and Xing’er who first taught the female workers there to play, after which Su Tan’er simply went ahead and organized a gobang tournament among the staff. Most of these seamstresses weren’t especially clever; the more popular game of Go was beyond them, but gobang was simple enough. Lately the cloth house had been holding round after round of matches and selections over it.

At the Bamboo Trading House itself, a similar tournament had been taken over by Yun Zhu, the original owner of the restaurants, with even a few managers joining in, aiming to pick out the strongest few players, who would then be pitted against the winners from the cloth house in a “grand final.”

Confucian teaching at this point hadn’t yet reached the extreme of “extinguish human desire to preserve heavenly principle” — though there were plenty of expectations placed on women, it hadn’t gotten to the point where a single glance would be called improper. In these matches, it was only natural that, from time to time, a man and woman would take a liking to each other, get to know one another, develop feelings. A few couples had already been matched this way, which was, in fact, one of the things that made Tan’er happiest. Ever since the year before, whenever something like this happened, whether at the proposal, the wedding, either Tan’er or Ning Yi would personally show up, offering betrothal gifts or even serving as officiant.

Checking over the goods to bring to Lüliang, going over recent news, and settling the plans for the “Su-Ning” operations going forward — though he’d only just gotten home, there was little time left that truly belonged to husband and wife. Once the goods were loaded and he’d finished speaking with Su Wending, Xing’er, and the others at home, Ning Yi went to see Ningxi. The child, not yet two, loved to run about clumsily; Ning Yi and Tan’er walked hand in hand along the corridor following after him — a rare bit of leisure time.

“Daddy, Mommy, catch~~ me if you can—” the child said in his babyish little voice, running ahead, and then went sprawling flat on the ground with a smack. Tan’er let out an “oh” and moved to rush over, but Ning Yi, laughing, held her back. “He’s a boy, what’s the harm in a little fall?”

Sure enough, Ningxi propped himself up with both hands and wobbled back to his feet, dusting off his hands, then stuck both little hands out into the curtain of rain beyond the eaves. Ning Yi and Tan’er finally went over, laughing, and wiped his hands clean with a handkerchief.

Before long, Yun Zhu also came back through the rain and told Ning Yi a bit about the gobang tournament. Before long, dusk had fallen, and by dinnertime the family sat down together — quite a crowd by now: Tan’er, Xiao Chan, Yun Zhu, Jin’er, Wending, Wenfang… Jin’er had already taken the bandage off her head, but because it had been wrapped around her forehead for so long, she still looked somewhat thin and haggard, the skin on her forehead noticeably paler than the rest. Ning Yi gave a few more instructions about matters to handle after he left — chief among them the question of the Ning family’s own private school; through connections with the Chancellor’s household, the Yao family, and the Wang family, the matter of hiring a tutor had basically been settled, and the various mundane details going forward would need to be looked after by them.

By this point, the “Su-Ning” household in the capital had truly become a great family. After dinner, Ning Yi even pulled Wending and the others aside for a private word, telling them not to bully Yun Zhu, Jin’er, and the rest…

…

Because of Ning Yi’s return, though the heavy rain still fell, the household in the night was full of warmth and bustle. Once back in her room, Jin’er sat cross-legged on the bed, chin propped in her hand, feeling a mix of novelty and, to some degree, disappointment. What felt novel to her was that this was the first time since her wedding that she had sat down to eat together with Ning Yi, Su Tan’er, and Sister Yun Zhu all at once. Several women sharing one man — even if you loved him, there was no way to honestly call that feeling a good one. Of course, the main thing was that there had once been a misunderstanding between her and the principal wife, and things still felt somewhat unfamiliar between them. That was where most of her complicated feelings, and the loneliness in her heart, really came from.

Of course, this feeling didn’t leave her feeling stifled — and after all, this was the fate most women like her were destined for. She tried hard to convince herself there was nothing to be dissatisfied with. If Ning Yi came by later to talk with her, she would put on a cheerful front, and afterward go find Sister Yun Zhu to chat… Thinking this over, Ning Yi ended up coming later than she had expected.

It was already quite late, and just as she was about to go out to find Sister Yun Zhu for a chat, Ning Yi came in from outside, startling her. He shut the door, took her hand, led her to the bed, and had her sit down.

“I’ve just come from your Sister Yun Zhu’s place. Jin’er, since I married you, we haven’t had a proper talk like this yet. I’m leaving tomorrow, and there are some things I need to tell you specially.”

He pulled a chair over and set it down not far from the window, his tone serious.

He’s going to lecture me — Jin’er thought to herself, though she didn’t feel put out by it; a talk like this was only to be expected. As a concubine newly married in, with him about to leave, of course he’d want to give her some instructions — things like not fighting with the principal wife, keeping the bigger picture in mind, and so on. Because of how formal Ning Yi seemed, she obediently sat at the edge of the bed with her legs together, hands resting on her knees, waiting for the man to give her his lecture.

Ning Yi sat in the chair, then, feeling the distance between them a little too great, dragged the chair closer. He took Jin’er’s hands in his, thought for a moment, and then laughed. “Actually — I’m leaving tomorrow, and because of one thing and another, I know the wedding was a bit rushed, and I won’t have much time to spend with you going forward. But regardless, Jin’er, now that you’ve married in, you’re one of my wives — so… tonight, I’ll stay here with you. All right?”

Jin’er blinked, a little confused by the word “wives,” but her face had already flushed, her head spinning slightly. She thought she must have nodded, said something, and the man before her said something about a “bridal chamber.” After that, everything began to blur.

It was quite a while before the two of them made their way to the bed. They talked for a bit, though afterward Jin’er couldn’t quite recall what had been said — she only remembered the warmth of breath against her skin. She thought she ought to act composed, since she did, after all, know what she was supposed to know, but her heart was still nervous and unsettled. The man lifted her up, laid her down; she didn’t resist, even tried to help, but found her own movements growing clumsy. The clearest sensation was the faint chill as her clothing was drawn away — since the cold came from her legs, that must have been when her close-fitting trousers were removed. She remembered having once heard about certain things, and though acting them out felt somewhat shameless, with her own man, surely all that mattered was pleasing him. But whether she’d actually managed to do any of it, she couldn’t remember either — looking back, she had no idea what she’d even been doing, only that when an unfamiliar ache spread through her body, her heart, strangely, settled — a very grounded, steady feeling…

That night went on for a long while, and in her last clear memory, Ning Yi wiped her body clean; she thought she should do it herself, but in the end she drifted off into a deep sleep.

When she woke it was early dawn. She was holding onto his body, still wanting to sleep, but remembered in the back of her mind that he would be leaving before daybreak, so she thought about getting up to prepare hot water for him to wash. But Ning Yi stopped her, wouldn’t let her rise. She looked at the man for a long while, knowing he would be away for some time, and finally, little by little, her eyes drifted shut, and she fell asleep.

…

The rain had stopped, the sky not yet light, and large lanterns burned bright at the gate of the Ning estate. The convoy was ready to set off. Ning Yi said his goodbyes to Tan’er, Xiao Chan, Yun Zhu, and the others, embracing each of them in turn and kissing their foreheads, doing the same for Ningxi. As he was about to board the carriage, he turned back to look at the deep estate behind him, and at the people who had come to see him off.

In the distance, from a small tower, a woman wrapped in a bedsheet secretly poked her head out of the window, peering out toward the front gate of the courtyard…

“Let’s go.”

Zhu Biao greeted him and climbed into the carriage beside him. Seeing his expression, he asked, “What are you thinking about?”

“Feeling… a little guilty toward someone.”

“Huh? Guilty toward who?”

“You’re too handsome — you wouldn’t get it even if I told you.”

“Uh…” Zhu Biao blinked, dumbfounded, for a good while, then scratched the back of his neck. “So… what am I supposed to say to that?”

“Let’s go.” Ning Yi smiled. “Time to set out — to Lüliang.”

“Setting out—” Zhu Biao called out toward the front, then grinned, growing excited. “I get to see Senior Lu again — this time I’m going to press her for a few more of her signature moves, haha…”

Amid the hazy dawn light, the convoy began to move, gradually pulling away from the estate. Before long it passed through the streets, through the city, and in the mist and morning light of early summer, headed toward a land utterly unlike the Central Plains — toward Lüliang Mountain, a land belonging to no one. At that same moment, the woman named Lou Shuwan led a party under Tian Hu’s command out of Hebei territory, turning likewise toward Lüliang. Neither side had any idea, at that moment, that a chance encounter awaited them there…