As May drew to a close, the weather grew hotter still. Rising temperatures pushed the city step by step toward the dog days of summer. In previous years, Su Tan’er would have moved upstairs a month earlier — the days were hot, but with the windows open at night, the second floor was still far cooler. This year, though, she hadn’t given orders to move rooms, and Ning Yi simply went along with whatever she did; since she said nothing, Ning Yi didn’t mind either, and naturally no servants came to help move the furniture up.
In the evenings they ate in the sitting room — sometimes moving out to the small pavilion in the courtyard instead. The five of them were, after all, just a small household; once familiar and comfortable with each other, there was no need to stand on too much ceremony. Ning Yi himself was easygoing by nature; Su Tan’er, in many respects, probably cared more about such formalities than he did, but at home, she rather enjoyed this relaxed atmosphere too. The three maids, once used to Ning Yi’s manner, would occasionally remark that the story their young master had told at the academy that day wasn’t very good — these stories, more often than not, being relayed secondhand through Xiao Chan.
With the weather turning hot, no one lingered indoors after dinner; they’d generally go out for a stroll. The Su estate was fairly large, with its own small garden, and most of the time they simply walked around there to enjoy the cool evening air. Su Tan’er would chat with the women of the other branches of the household. She had once been a relatively serious person, coming and going each day with her maids in tow, and the men of the other branches mostly couldn’t make casual conversation with her, let alone the women, who found her even harder to approach. Now, perhaps because of her status as a married woman, she occasionally joined in on conversations, and others remarked that she had grown gentler since her marriage — which, in turn, earned Ning Yi some measure of respect.
By now, at the Su estate, hardly anyone dared give Ning Yi a hard time. He had earned a name for himself; the old patriarch valued him; word had already spread about the incident at the House of Letters during the courtesan pageant, where his mere appearance had left others too intimidated to compose their verses. And he himself seemed easygoing and content to keep to his teaching without meddling in business affairs. People had originally assumed that once married, Su Tan’er, with a matrilocal husband, would only grow more domineering — but instead, the two of them got along smoothly and seemed a proper match. Meeting Ning Yi, people naturally exchanged greetings and pleasantries; men like Wending and Wenfang were even somewhat respectful toward him. Of course, true warmth was hard to come by — they simply weren’t on the same level — but at least the appearance of closeness was there.
In any case, by summer, he’d become at least a nodding acquaintance with everyone in the Su household.
Su Tan’er, on the whole, remained busy, though these matters didn’t require Ning Yi’s attention, nor did she need it. Every few days they’d meet upstairs, eat something, and she’d vent a little about the pressures of her work — her general state of mind was still good, just busy. Occasionally Ning Yi would go out for an evening walk; sometimes Xiao Chan came along, and they’d loop around by the Qinhuai River; if Xiao Chan didn’t come, he’d head to the small courtyard by the academy to meet up with Lu Hongti.
Coming home at night, Su Tan’er would have someone bring over bowls of iced red-bean paste or other chilled snacks — the Su household stored ice every year in preparation for summer, and only the masters of the house got to enjoy it. Su Tan’er’s own little courtyard received the best treatment of all, since she alone managed the main household; these treats were often shared with Xiao Chan and the others as well. Eating these chilled snacks together with Su Tan’er in the evening was perhaps the most pleasant time of each day. For anyone else in the household, even among the masters, getting even a single bowl required careful consideration each time.
After eating, the temperature would have dropped somewhat; sometimes they chatted, sometimes played chess, sometimes each attended to their own matters, until the lamps gradually went out at night. Once the light in Su Tan’er’s room went dark, Ning Yi too would go to bed, and the courtyard would fall quiet.
The morning runs and exercises, begun before dawn each day, had never once lapsed — though hardly anyone noticed he kept up this habit. Running to the river bend where the little pavilion stood, he’d find Nie Yunzhu already sitting on the steps waiting for him. Bamboo Records’ business was going smoothly; the main shop already had a noticeable base of regular, returning customers, and the wooden token scheme with the four carts had proven amusingly popular — some people scoured the whole city trying to collect all four tokens, a kind of card-collecting pleasure in itself.
Of course, for now, the main source of income wasn’t the flagship store or the four carts, but rather the preserved eggs from Bamboo Records, which were still spreading rapidly through Jiangning’s taverns and restaurants. Nie Yunzhu no longer needed to handle these deals personally; her staff had already hired quite a few employees, and Ning Yi had set up fairly mature rules and procedures for managing them, greatly easing the burden of oversight. Riding on the publicity from the courtesan pageant, many of Jiangning’s restaurants and teahouses now carried preserved eggs on consignment, and even the high-end pleasure houses were beginning to open up to them. Everything was developing rapidly, yet with startling stability.
Of course, most of the time Nie Yunzhu didn’t report business matters like these to Ning Yi. What she liked to talk about were fresh little everyday things. Since opening the shop, something new happened every day — things she’d never seen or heard of before, and she recounted them with considerable charm. Sometimes she’d mention Hutao and Ergou’s upcoming wedding, planning to hold it soon, which would settle one matter weighing on her mind.
They kept up the habit of sitting and chatting only on the steps, the dim yellow light spilling out from the room behind. Nie Yunzhu would set out a tray and steep a pot of tea, simply leaving it there on the steps; when Ning Yi arrived, he’d drink a small cup, they’d talk a while, and she’d watch him leave — that was always at first light, the city’s outline gradually emerging as his figure receded.
Because of Lu Hongti, Ning Yi hadn’t been going to the riverside to play chess as often this month, though he still went a few times. Old Qin had been concerned lately about the flooding — it was the peak flood season, and several places had reportedly reached crisis levels, with a few river sections having breached their embankments; no one knew how things would turn out.
“Not a good year, this one…” the old man would sigh, and if Kang Xian came by, he’d usually say much the same.
“If this keeps up, by the seventh month we might well see another wave of refugees…”
Drought, flood, winter ice disasters, and in some places even bandit troubles — the current social structure could hardly withstand such blows. Every few years some calamity or another struck, and when refugees had nowhere to go and things spiraled out of control, they would naturally head east toward the wealthy regions of Bianliang, Jiangning, and Yangzhou. Old Qin, thinking it over each time, would set down his chess piece. “There may well be military trouble too…”
Tensions between Liao and Jin looked ready to erupt at any moment — though whether real chaos would actually break out, and how soon, was hard to say; it might take months, might take years. When the time came, the Wu court would have to take some stance one way or another; if war broke out this time, it would bear on the fate of the entire dynasty. Before troops could move, provisions had to go first, and sustaining a large-scale, all-out war like that would be another test for the state as it currently stood.
“However it goes, once we’ve held out and fought it through, things should improve.” Both old men remained fairly optimistic about this — in fact, the whole Wu dynasty was optimistic. The Wu court still had a solid foundation in economy and agriculture; the whole structure, though bloated, drew most of its burden from the north. If the north could be stabilized, the court as a whole would breathe a great sigh of relief, and there would be hope and room to spare for reform and reorganization.
Every afternoon, he ran experiments in the little courtyard and chatted with Lu Hongti. If the topic touched on martial arts, she’d occasionally jot something down, then tease him about it. In fact, Lu Hongti had lately taken to lending him a hand now and then, watching him design his odd assortment of containers and devices. What she could help with wasn’t the chemistry itself, but rather the equipment for producing high-proof liquor — since Bamboo Records was already on track, he needed to get the strong liquor brewed too, refine it, then set up a small workshop to launch it as one of Bamboo Records’ signature products.
Distillation wasn’t complicated for him; he’d started back in March. At first he’d built a small setup, and only now was he beginning to scale it up and refine it — this was just the basic technique; what to do with the distilled liquor afterward wasn’t his concern, that could be left to others. Lu Hongti could drink, and though she didn’t seem the rough type, she drank at quite a steady pace all the same. Still, after downing her first cup of the drinkable liquor, she frowned. “This wine… is fierce.”
Interested in the liquor, she helped out with some enthusiasm, occasionally asking questions, and Ning Yi would explain distillation, vaporization, condensation, and the like. She still regarded these matters of his as some kind of sorcery, though her attitude had shifted considerably. “These things of yours… do seem to have some use after all…”
“Still not fully refined, but usable enough. Before you leave, feel free to copy down a version of it, though…”
“There isn’t much grain to spare in the mountains for brewing liquor… Sometimes we rob merchants and the liquor’s gone in no time — drinking it by the bowlful looks like a lot, but once you distill it down like this, there won’t be much left.” Lu Hongti sighed a little wistfully.
“You could still consider distilling a batch — after an injury it can be used for disinfection; the low-proof stuff is useless for that.” Speaking of disinfection, Ning Yi launched rather smugly into some made-up talk about infection and germs, describing tiny creatures invisible to the naked eye crawling into the body by the thousands, some with eight arms, some furry, watching Lu Hongti’s brow furrow as she listened. Then he asked, “Your wound medicine is quite good, though — barely leaves any scars. How’s it made?”
“Partly it’s due to our martial training. Of course, if you want it, I’ll copy you a version before I leave, though a few of the ingredients aren’t easy to find.” Lu Hongti glanced at him. “But are you actually after the martial arts manual, or the medicine recipe?”
“Weren’t you not planning to teach me martial arts anyway… Ahem, I’ll have to think about it.”
“Still not planning to.” Lu Hongti said, breaking into a laugh. “It’d be useless to you anyway — as a teacher, none of your students would fear you.”
“But they adore me.”
“You’re a good person… a bit odd, but truly a good person.”
“Ahem, no need to keep emphasizing that.”
Time passed, her injuries gradually improving; the hidden watchers in Jiangning had likely started to relax their guard by now — hard to say when she might leave. “Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils — must be nearly finished by now?” She’d asked about the progress these past few days. “I want to hear the end of it before I go.” Ning Yi understood her nature well enough — though she seemed to genuinely enjoy these stories now, drinking liquor and snacking while listening, once it came time to leave, she would go without hesitation, because back in the Lüliang Mountains, there was still much work for her to do.
In his past life Ning Yi had been a merchant, but not a heartless one; by now he’d come to regard her, to some degree, as an interesting friend — someone he could ramble to about atoms and molecules, bring things over to chat about in the evenings. The days passed in leisurely fashion, nothing urgent to attend to, no great burdens — until the evening of the fourth day of the sixth month.
Xiao Chan had something on that evening, so she told Lu Hongti she’d bring over some food and wine later that night. After dinner she left the Su estate, planning to pick up something to eat along the way. Passing through a somewhat secluded stretch of street, a cart hauling firewood pulled up alongside her — no wait, alongside him — and the burly man on it called out a greeting: “Hey, Ning Yi, Ning Liheng?”
The man was truly massive, sitting up on the cart, making Ning Yi tilt his head back to look up at him; something felt wrong in his heart, because what flickered in that man’s eyes was anything but goodwill. Wariness surged up in him, but before he could even begin to process that look, a club came whistling down from behind his head.
“Frail scholar…”
…
Night fell. Lu Hongti waited in the courtyard for Ning Yi to arrive, wind chimes tinkling softly.
She’d been recuperating here for nearly a month now; thinking back on it, she felt a faint reluctance to leave — something that would once have been unthinkable for her. This past month had been an interesting stretch of life, though in a few days she ought to be heading back to Lüliang. After that… there probably wouldn’t be much chance to come here again.
Time slipped by gradually. Perhaps he was held up by something… she thought to herself. That wasn’t so strange — though he’d never missed their meetings before, now that she knew his actual identity, it was only natural he might be unable to come if something came up. It was just a pity she wouldn’t get to hear the story tonight; she hoped they could finish it in these last few days.
She waited a while longer, then, feeling somewhat disappointed, went into the room and began eating the midday leftovers that had been cooling in a basin of water, along with some now-cold steamed buns. To her, there was nothing to be picky about — what lay before her was, after all, a feast in itself…