The rain kept falling. As the carriage pulled away from the nearby street, Xi Junyu lifted the curtain and glanced back at the Su family’s great estate in the rainy night—all he could really make out were the two lanterns still lit beneath the eaves of the side gate, the rest little more than the dark silhouette of the courtyard walls, with the occasional faint glow rising from within. He sighed.
“Should’ve known you wouldn’t listen, but…” he murmured to himself, a smile crossing his face. “Well then, don’t say I didn’t warn you…”
Regarding the matter of the imperial merchant business, once Ning Yi had appeared, he’d still brought it up briefly. Of course, since he didn’t know how much Ning Yi actually understood about the whole affair, what he’d said in the end had come out somewhat indirect, roundabout. Still, the meaning should have gotten through one way or another. As far as what he could and should do in front of Su Tan’er, that was about all there was to it.
The carriage pulled away, while back in the courtyard, Ning Yi had already gone with Su Tan’er and Juan’er toward the small courtyard nearby where dinner awaited. Ning Yi had long sensed something about the palace-license matter, though he wasn’t entirely clear on the details; he hadn’t caught the earlier part of their conversation, only heard Su Tan’er talking about the state of the nation, and had chimed in with some teasing. Su Tan’er responded with a laughing complaint: “Most of what I just said, you were the one who brought up casually the other day—and now you’re calling me unpatriotic… you’re no good person yourself.”
“Different context, you can’t lump them together.” Ning Yi laughed, making up excuses in the pouring rain, with Juan’er following along behind them.
Having been away for a few days, coming back things felt much the same as before, though something did seem slightly different between him and Xiao Chan now. Still, that evening they all ate and talked together as usual, chatting about the trip to Nanting Village these past few days. After Bodyguard Geng and Dongzhu left, Ning Yi and Su Tan’er and the others made their way back to their own small courtyard under umbrellas. Chan’er and Juan’er busied themselves heating water for washing up, Xing’er bustled about cleaning inside and out, and Su Tan’er returned to her room to continue going over the accounts she’d been working on before Xi Junyu’s visit.
The downpour had all but turned the courtyard into a rushing stream. Ning Yi stood under the eaves watching for a while, and when he looked up toward the room across the way, Su Tan’er’s window was open, her figure visible at the desk inside, writing and calculating—much the same as any ordinary evening. As he was about to head back to his room, he noticed Juan’er standing behind him, holding a small basin of hot water.
Juan’er generally came across as rather quiet, but she got along well with Ning Yi. She smiled now. “Young Master should turn in early tonight.”
Ning Yi considered this. “Oh?”
“While you were away these past few days, Miss kept staying up very late. It’s really just going over the accounts, but neither Sister Xing’er nor I could talk her out of it.”
Having said this, she lowered her head slightly and carried the basin off to the side.
“Tch.” Ning Yi glanced back at the figure in the window, shrugged. “Well, I can’t talk her out of it either.”
That night, he read for a while in his room, and by the time he reckoned it was around midnight, the light across the way was still burning. Ning Yi thought about it, set down his book, blew out the lamp, and went to bed. In the room across the way, Su Tan’er glanced up for a moment, still turning the pages of her ledger, brow furrowing slightly.
She rested her chin in her hand and looked over once more, her gaze drifting involuntarily toward the now-dark room. A moment later, she turned another page, then reached out and closed the entire ledger.
That’s enough. Time to put out the lamp and sleep, she thought.
In the maidservants’ room off to the side, Juan’er, dressed in a single thin layer, leaned out of the window, glancing first toward Ning Yi’s window across the way, then turning to look toward Su Tan’er’s window, before resting against the sill with a sigh. “Young Master really is something…”
After a final flurry of rustling sounds, the courtyard finally fell silent, save for the rain, still falling without end…
That same night, a thousand li away, in the Wu Dynasty’s capital of Dongjing, the sky was free of clouds. The night was clear and bright, a waxing crescent moon casting a light like cool jade, stars scattered across the sky gathering into the vast jade-belt sweep of the Milky Way. Beneath that night sky, the city was still lively—markets, brothels, mansions large and small all still lit up. The city’s busiest thoroughfare, the Imperial Way, ran straight to Xuande Gate, the main entrance to the palace; looking down it, one saw the broad avenue, the whole city aglow with lanterns, and in the distance the towering palace walls likewise wrapped in a blaze of light.
Though the palace gates had already closed for the night, this was the scene every evening—few people knew that, this very night, within those palace walls, an extremely secret and momentous affair was quietly unfolding.
At the Secretariat-Chancellery, a number of ministers currently at the height of their influence in the court were gathered: Li Gang, Tong Guan, Wu Min, Tang Ke, Geng Nanzhong, Zhang Bangchang, Qin Hui, Gao Qiu, Zhou Zhi… Naturally, these men held offices of varying rank, and had their own respective factions. This was a break during a secret and weighty deliberation; they clustered in twos and threes, sipping tea as they rested, discussing matters in hushed voices—though their inner excitement was impossible to fully suppress.
“The Liao sent over a state letter not long ago, asking to renegotiate the tribute matter—they’re even willing to give up the tribute entirely if we’ll join them in attacking Jin. I imagine they’ve already gone through your channels as well on this?”
“Indeed they have. The Liao envoy asked me to put in a good word during court, sent over quite a few gifts too—one incense burner among them was genuinely exquisite. The rest… heh, not much to speak of…”
“The Liao are getting desperate. Took them long enough…”
“When the lips are gone, the teeth grow cold. I still don’t think we should send troops this time. The Jurchens have the upper hand now—once they finish off Liao, who’s to say we’re not next?”
“That’s needless alarmism. The Jurchens are too few in number—once they conquer Liao, their entire nation combined probably can’t field more than a hundred thousand usable troops, and they’ll need those just to hold what they’ve taken. How could they possibly march a thousand li to attack us as well?”
“Zhong Shidao holds this same view now—he’s been saying we shouldn’t ally with Jin against Liao, but rather ally with Liao against Jin, since Liao and our dynasty have been brotherly states for a hundred years now, while this Jin is the real wolf at the door. Deng Xunwu shares this view as well…”
“Nonsense. Befriend the distant, attack the near—that’s how it’s always been done. Since when does anyone attack the distant and befriend the near? Recovering Yan and Yun is within our grasp now, after hundreds of years. If we pull this off, all of us… will go down in history…”
“That Zhong Shidao is the truly confused one…”
“Liao’s fortunes are spent. We ought to act in accordance with the will of heaven… the Wu Dynasty is about to rise.”
“Pity that Lord Tong is preparing to leave the capital soon to deal with the Fang La affair…”
“A mere eunuch…”
“Quiet! Keep your voice down!”
A low murmur of discussion continued among them. But regardless, the proposal to ally with Jin against Liao—originally pushed forward openly by Tong Guan—had by now passed its initial stage and entered the phase of working out details.
The real groundwork for this had perhaps been laid as far back as the Heishui Accord seven years earlier, and especially four years ago, when Liao’s Emperor Tianzuo personally led seven hundred thousand troops against Jin, only to be nearly wiped out at Hubudagang by a mere twenty thousand Jurchen soldiers under Wanyan Aguda—after which, calls within the dynasty to ally with Jin against Liao had only grown louder. Though some still held that the Wu Dynasty shouldn’t get involved in this war at all, or should instead side with Liao against Jin—Zhong Shidao, the famed general from the northwest, among them.
Deng Xunwu, an official at the Bureau of Military Affairs, had once submitted a memorial on the matter, arguing roughly: “What is this talk of ‘annexing the weak, striking the benighted’? I say we ought instead to support the weak and check the strong. Our nation’s military is in decline, our treasury depleted, our people worn thin—everyone knows this, yet no one dares say it. I do not understand: is having the powerful Jin as a neighbor truly better than having the weak Liao as one?” The king of Goryeo had likewise sent a private message: “Liao is a brotherly state; keeping it around secures our borders. Jin is a nation of wolves and tigers—not to be allied with!”
Of course, by now, those who still held such views were very much in the minority. It had been over two hundred years since Shi Jingtang had ceded the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan and Yun, and the temptation of reclaiming them was one no emperor could resist.
Though the Liao, now sensing the danger they were in, had begun seeking help from the Wu Dynasty, even offering to abolish the tribute payments in exchange for a joint stand against Jin—still, starting several years earlier, the Wu Dynasty had already been sending envoys to the Jurchens by sea, and after several rounds of exchange, the Jin had finally sent a handful of envoys this time with a relatively concrete answer. What remained now was for this side to settle on negotiating terms, then send someone over—the matter was, by and large, entering its formal phase.
The Jin envoys who’d come this time had only conveyed a gesture of agreement in principle; they had no authority to settle terms point by point. Once things were worked out on this end, someone would still need to travel to Jin territory to negotiate directly with Wanyan Aguda himself. While the ministers were still deliberating within the palace walls, at a tavern near the Imperial Way, two members of the Jin delegation were drinking—one a man in his early forties, the other barely in his twenties, both carrying that rugged bearing typical of the Jurchen. The older man’s gaze, as he looked out at the bustling street, held a complicated air. The two of them appeared to be mere attendants within the delegation, of no particular standing, and hadn’t accompanied the others into the palace—yet what passed between them now carried no small significance.
“Lord Gushen, since you’ve come all this way, why not simply reveal yourself and get the agreement signed sooner? That way our army can march north, and those Khitan dogs will be caught scrambling on all sides—easing the burden on our end.”
Anyone who truly understood the situation in Jin, hearing that name, would likely be startled by the words “Gushen.” Gushen, son of Huandu, also known as Wanyan Xiyin, was the most important strategist at Wanyan Aguda’s side—involved in nearly every major affair since Aguda first raised arms against Liao, a man of formidable military insight and, moreover, one of the most celebrated scholars among the Jurchen. Years earlier, when Aguda declared himself emperor and observed that the Jurchen had no writing system of their own, he had ordered Xiyin to create one; modeling it after Han-style regular script, he had completed the script just the previous year, and it was now being promoted throughout Jin territory. At this moment, he gazed out at the lights outside and shook his head.
“Though we did consider seeking the Wu Dynasty’s aid back when we first raised arms, this matter was proposed by the Wu Dynasty itself first. Since it’s the Wu Dynasty that needs us, we can hardly afford to appear too eager ourselves. I came to the Central Plains only to see the splendor of the Wu Dynasty, the sights of Dongjing for myself… and having seen it now, the trip has already been worthwhile. Look at this scene in Dongjing—even the five capitals of Liao pale in comparison.”
“Meiliye finds it all too extravagant, soft, without a shred of martial spirit. Lord Gushen, some among those who came along this time actually say that aside from its extravagance, this Wu Dynasty has nothing else worth noting—oppressed by the Liao for a hundred years, achieving nothing. Allying with them would gain us little; it might draw some attention our way, but frankly it’s dispensable. Without them, we Jurchen warriors could take Liao on our own—having them along just means splitting the spoils with them for nothing…”
“Don’t be so arrogant.” Wanyan Xiyin frowned. “The Wu Dynasty holds the Central Plains—vast lands, rich resources. Before we Jurchen ever emerged, the Han people had already lived and thrived here for a thousand years. They may seem to have been oppressed by Liao these past years, but if they were truly as weak as all that, wouldn’t Liao have swallowed them up long ago? How else could they have developed to this extent?”
He shook his head, and in his eyes there was, in truth, a note of uncertainty as well. “These past years, creating the script, I’ve studied Han culture closely, and the deeper I dig, the more I find myself in awe of just how unfathomably deep their foundations run. Meiliye, even His Majesty and the Lord of the Second State Council, when speaking of the Wu Dynasty, do so with a measure of reverence. A realm of the Central Plains is not to be underestimated. Once we join forces to bring down Liao, we’ll share a border with them, and could well become enemies ourselves. How can you afford to look down on a potential enemy?”
Having said this, his gaze drifted once more toward the bustling night scene outside. The young man called Meiliye lowered his head, deep in thought. Had it been anyone else speaking, he might not have been swayed at all—but Lord Gushen was different. Not only was he a man of exceptional martial prowess, his strategic mind and wisdom were equally unmatched; whatever he said surely carried real weight.
Thinking this, Meiliye turned his own gaze outward as well, beginning to consider just how formidable these Han people truly might be.
Perhaps one day… he might see it for himself, on the battlefield.
So he thought.
This night belonging to Kaifeng might, years later, be remembered, earning its place in the history books. Of course, this was but a small episode among the many events yet to unfold over the years to come; everyone involved, at this moment, was simply doing what they each believed was right.
The uprising led by Fang La and other rebel forces in the southeast of the Wu Dynasty had already begun spreading its influence widely. The famed general Tong Guan, even as he championed the alliance with Jin against Liao, was also considering crushing these peasant rebels swiftly and decisively first, before marching his forces north. The emperor waited to reclaim Yan and Yun, to restore the homeland, after which he would turn to careful governance at leisure. Meanwhile, Wanyan Xiyin, currently in Bianliang, and Wanyan Aguda, at the front lines against Liao, were both weighing what advantage a Wu Dynasty campaign north might bring, and what the balance of power might look like afterward—the Jurchen population and army were both simply too small; once they took Liao, how would they maintain equilibrium with the Wu Dynasty, avoid being swallowed up by them in turn…
Of course, Ning Yi knew nothing of any of this.
He was asleep. Come morning, he woke to find the storm had passed, and went for his usual run. Along the way he practiced the breathing techniques Lu Hongti had taught him to train his internal energy, making his way eventually to Nie Yunzhu’s small house for a cup of tea and a chat. They hadn’t seen each other in a few days, so after a brief exchange of pleasantries, the two of them sat quietly together for a while. Nie Yunzhu was considering how to bring up the fact that she’d already met with Old Master Qin, who might become her adoptive father. As Ning Yi reached for the teapot to pour himself a cup, a hand holding a teacup reached out from behind him.
“Hey, pour me one too.”
A woman’s hand, pale and small. Ning Yi paused for a moment, poured the tea into the cup, then turned to look—a woman dressed in what looked like one of Nie Yunzhu’s own robes sat on the steps two levels below, behind him, lifting the cup and blowing on it repeatedly before slowly drinking.
The two of them evidently already knew each other. Nie Yunzhu turned, slightly surprised, uncertain for a moment whether introductions were even necessary. After a moment, Yuan Jin’er set down her cup, smacked her lips, noticed Ning Yi still looking at her, pouted, glared, and leaned back slightly. “Why do you keep staring at me!”
“Oh.” Ning Yi blinked, nodded, then turned away to drink his tea, no longer looking at her—only to shrug a moment later. “Saw a woman climb out of the river yesterday, pouring rain, soaked clean through… heh, really soaked through… probably wasn’t you.”
His tone was utterly casual, unconcerned. Yuan Jin’er’s eyes went wide in an instant. Nie Yunzhu let out a surprised “Hm?” and turned to look at her—she still remembered well enough the state Yuan Jin’er had arrived in the night before; she’d meant to help her bathe afterward, but the girl had already fallen asleep, so to keep her from catching a chill, Nie Yunzhu had ended up undressing her and wiping her down herself.
Yuan Jin’er blinked, glancing between Nie Yunzhu and back. “Of course it wasn’t me!” She grabbed the hem of her skirt and ran off—Nie Yunzhu being slightly taller than her, the skirt trailed a bit long, and Yuan Jin’er let out a yelp as she nearly tripped running inside.
Nie Yunzhu let out a rueful laugh, turned back to Ning Yi, who still wore that same unbothered expression, sipping his tea—then glanced at her again… and again…
“Why do you keep looking at me like that? She already said it wasn’t her!”
“…Shameless flirt.”
Nie Yunzhu picked up her teacup and turned her face away…