Commandant Song Xian was no incompetent man.
Ever since the assassination attempt on the night of the Lantern Festival, Ning Yi had kept a bit of an eye on the man. It was, admittedly, something like waiting by a tree stump for a rabbit to run into it — unlikely to yield much — and given his current standing, he couldn’t get access to any particularly refined intelligence. But basic information, with a little effort, could still be had.
Just as Lu A’Gui had told him before, this man was flamboyant, vindictive to a fault, and ruthless — but he was by no means incompetent or mediocre. Compared to Chen Yong, the commander of the Martial Might Army, Song Xian, who’d once run in the martial world himself, might be closer to what a proper soldier actually looked like. If not for that, he’d never have been entrusted with command of the Martial Might Army’s personal guard battalion.
The current dynasty favored letters over arms, and the Martial Might Army was a garrison force stationed to defend the Jiangning region, quartered in this prosperous land — its overall combat strength wasn’t especially strong, and if there was anything genuinely worth mentioning, it was really just a handful of units built around that personal guard battalion. Within the Martial Might Army, Song Xian’s standing was second only to the top command itself. Ever since the Lantern Festival assassination attempt, he’d raised his guard considerably, always accompanied by a good number of personal guards whenever he went out.
Here at the venue now, all Ning Yi could do was trail him from a distance, keeping an eye on his surroundings — fortunately, with such a crowd, there was little chance of anyone noticing him tailing along.
If he himself could follow like this, so could someone else. If anyone else had designs on Song Xian, they too might well be mingling somewhere in this crowd right now. He kept a quiet watch for anything like that, though with the crowd this thick, and given that he hadn’t even managed to make out the assassin’s face that night at the Lantern Festival, there wasn’t much useful information to be had now either. Song Xian, with roughly ten men in tow, wandered about, seeming not particularly enthusiastic about the performances themselves. When he reached the stage by the river, he finally parted from the crowd and took a seat up front, in the section reserved for high officials and dignitaries, exchanging words with one of them, his guards keeping watch all around.
Ning Yi stood at the edge of the crowd, looking around, then began recalling the events of that Lantern Festival night — certain details, trying to work out that woman’s manner and methods, then attempting to put himself in her place, imagining what approach he’d take if he himself meant to kill Song Xian. He’d gotten halfway through this line of thought when someone suddenly tapped his shoulder from behind with a folding fan.
“Hey, you there — quite the impressive height you’ve got, haven’t you? Standing right here blocking my view — what do you plan to do about that?”
Ning Yi, of average build and not particularly tall, found the voice behind him rather odd too, and after a moment caught on, turning around with a smile. There stood the one issuing this provocation with the folding fan — dressed in a black robe, standing a head shorter than him but far more slender in build. Tilted upward toward him was Nie Yunzhu’s fair, delicate face, wearing an exaggeratedly solemn expression. Up close, though dressed as a man, she carried almost none of a man’s bearing — instead looking rather endearingly clumsy at it.
“Such a well-reasoned complaint, sir — clearly the fault is entirely mine. Seeing how fierce and domineering you are, shall I pay you a little protection money?”
Nie Yunzhu forced her expression to stay stern, holding out a hand. “Well said! Hand over all the flowers on you, and this young master might just let you off this once — otherwise, watch out, or I’ll beat your head into a pig’s head!”
She’d apparently picked up this sort of talk from running her stall in the marketplace lately, striking quite the domineering pose now. Ning Yi sighed and took out the flower and admission ticket he’d used to get in, placing them in her hand. Nie Yunzhu finally burst out laughing. “Was the girl singing up there that captivating? You were so absorbed in it just now.”
“Singing?” Ning Yi turned to look, only then realizing she meant the singer on stage. “Ha, was thinking about something else. When did you get here?”
“Was just wandering about and happened to spot you — I’ve been standing behind you for a while now.”
The two of them walked together toward the nearby flower-registration desk, where Nie Yunzhu produced a flower from inside her robe, dropping it into the large box alongside Ning Yi’s, then handed the receipt to the registrar. “Two, for Miss Yuan Jin’er of Jinfeng Pavilion.”
“Miss Yuan Jin’er hasn’t performed yet.”
“Give it anyway.”
With that said, the man logged it accordingly. Ning Yi smiled. “Here to cheer on Jin’er, then?”
“Jin’er and I have always gotten along well.” Nie Yunzhu lowered her head, thinking it over before adding, “Actually, I lent a hand with her performance this time too.”
The two of them met every morning and talked about everything under the sun, but she’d never mentioned this before. Ning Yi felt a touch puzzled. “Didn’t you say you didn’t want to get close to that place anymore?”
“Madam wants Jin’er to keep her spot among the Four Ranking Beauties, and she said if I lent a small hand, she’d help promote our business afterward. I thought it over and agreed. What I’m dealing with the Madam on now is business, different from before, so it doesn’t feel quite so uncomfortable — she’s actually quite reasonable when it comes to that sort of thing.” Nie Yunzhu paused, and as they walked on together, added, “Actually, thinking about it now, I probably shouldn’t have agreed. Jin’er already has some name for herself, and if it grows any bigger, whether that ends up good or bad for her is honestly hard to say. And her temperament being what it is… eh, never mind, let’s not talk about it…”
She shook her head, then smiled. “Oh, right — will Liheng go watch Jin’er’s performance later?”
“One of the Four Ranking Beauties, and you helped out besides — of course I can’t miss it.”
“Ha, Jin’er actually told me she wants to meet you — the most mysterious first talent of Jiangning, after all. I’ll point you out to her from the stage when the time comes… Oh, right, didn’t you say a little maid would be coming with you? I’ve been wondering who that could be.”
“Waiting at Wenmo Tower having something to eat — I slipped away partway through.” Ning Yi thought it over. “I should probably head back over there soon.”
Nie Yunzhu smiled. “Let’s go together, then — I’m heading Jin’er’s way too, same direction.”
Chatting idly along the way, the two of them made their way through the crowd, heading back toward Wenmo Tower. Ning Yi glanced back once toward where Song Xian had been, thinking again of that fleeting glimpse earlier — probably just a trick of the mind.
At that same moment, not far off, beneath the eaves of a small building neither of them had taken any notice of, Gu Yanzhen stood quietly, watching the two of them disappear into the distance.
…
From the moment he’d spotted Nie Yunzhu in the crowd, he’d trailed after her for a long stretch of time. Throughout the whole business, Gu Yanzhen had puzzled over just who this normally placid, unhurried Nie Yunzhu could possibly be looking for — but he certainly hadn’t expected to end up seeing what he did.
The entire time, he’d watched her drifting aimlessly through the crowd — no arrangement to meet anyone, and yet clearly holding out some hope of finding whoever it was. In a venue like this, to ignore the performances entirely and simply wander leisurely among three thousand-odd people searching for someone with no set meeting time was, frankly, rather strange. In all his years knowing her, Gu Yanzhen had never once seen this side of her.
The Yunzhu he’d known was different from most of the beauties of the pleasure quarters — she preferred quiet, possessed remarkable skill in the qin, dance, and poetry, yet never flaunted any of it. Compared to an ordinary courtesan, there was a genuine scholarly air about her, not affected but real. She was a woman of true, easy temperament, and being around her left everyone with a certain sense of calm. Gu Yanzhen couldn’t say exactly when he’d first come to feel this particular quality in her, but in any case, he felt he understood that unique disposition of hers — because the two of them, he believed, were cut from the same cloth.
After returning from the Eastern Capital, he’d run into Nie Yunzhu again that morning, and later learned she’d bought her own freedom and cut off contact with all her former patrons. Though disappointed at first, on further thought, he’d found it only fitting that she should be this sort of exceptional, unconventional woman — beneath that calm surface lay a quiet confidence and pride. It was precisely this temperament he’d been drawn to; he’d felt, in his own estimation, that some genuine feeling had passed between them, and had pursued her — until that slap, after which his feelings had shifted.
These past two months he’d still been searching for the man behind Nie Yunzhu, though on the surface he’d played it off lightly; it had, in fact, led to his falling out with Li Pin. This Li Pin was truly no one to underestimate — he’d clearly seen through what Gu Yanzhen was after, yet had given nothing away no matter how he’d pressed. This had left Gu Yanzhen somewhat flustered, and he’d said a few harsh things in the moment. In truth, over these two months of occasional inquiry, even he himself still wasn’t entirely sure what he meant to do once he actually found this man behind her.
He’d eventually settled on a theory — that the man was probably some renowned elder scholar. If that were the case, there’d be nothing to be done about it.
Until, not long ago, he’d witnessed something of Nie Yunzhu’s behavior.
Dressed as a man for the occasion, Nie Yunzhu had carried the part off reasonably well — the image of an elegant, refined young gentleman. Then, amid the crowd, she’d spotted the man she was looking for — first craning her neck to peer at him from a distance several times, then walking up behind him as though wanting to greet him, only to hesitate, waiting for him to turn and notice her on his own. During this stretch, Gu Yanzhen, watching from the side, had seen her expression shift back and forth — sometimes struggling with herself, sometimes displeased, sometimes breaking into a smile, sometimes raising a hand as if to strike him only to stop herself, frowning in mild irritation at the man’s obliviousness up ahead. Through all these shifting expressions, every trace of masculine bearing had entirely fallen away, replaced now and then by a sigh, or a helpless little gesture, utterly girlish in nature… expressions he had never once seen on her before. He’d seen her frown, out of place amid the crowd while performing at Jinfeng Pavilion; he’d seen her composed, scholarly smile, full of quiet reserve — but these expressions just now…
The man had never once turned around, never noticed the complicated, endearing display unfolding behind him, until Nie Yunzhu finally gave up and rapped him on the shoulder with her folding fan, switching at once to a mock-serious smile. After that the two of them had walked off together, chatting and laughing, over to the registration table to offer flowers — a mere two flowers, at that — and then on out of sight… Gu Yanzhen could hardly put into words what he felt watching all this. He simply watched it all unfold with an expressionless face, and after a long while, drove his fist into the pillar of the building beside him.
Then he let out a sharp “Ha,” and laughed.
…
Ning Yi and Nie Yunzhu parted ways just below Wenmo Tower. Up at the window above, Xiao Chan was leaning over the sill watching, and now waved vigorously at him.
“Young Master, who was that black-robed gentleman you were walking with?”
By the time he came upstairs, Su Wending and the others had already left; Li Pin and Xiao Chan were still waiting for him, and Xiao Chan asked with curiosity.
Ning Yi smiled. “Someone dressed up as a man — she was pretty, so I teased her a bit.”
“Young Master, you’re so bad!” Xiao Chan popped a pastry into her mouth, beaming, clearly not believing a word of it. Not long after, the three of them made their way down from Wenmo Tower and back out into the crowd to continue watching the remaining performances.
Every now and then he’d catch sight of Song Xian, or Chen Yong, along with the accompanying guards of the Martial Might Army. Ning Yi kept a corner of his mind on alert, waiting for whatever change might yet come…