"I know that if I say it, no one will believe me, but... there are things I truly do not wish to do. Talent, reputation, rank and merit — I don't want to touch any of it. That... is the truth."
Ning Yi's tone was calm, yet the persuasiveness in his words was beyond doubt. He was answering the question in earnest, with no reluctance, no hidden grievance — sincere and open.
At this moment he looked like nothing more than a young man barely past twenty, and formerly a stiff, wooden scholar besides; the bookworm he had been would likely have stammered even to speak before Old Qin and Old Kang. But at this moment the bearing that clothed him was impossible to ignore.
Together with that frame of his, he seemed aloof and free, unbound by any thing. Had such a bearing belonged to a man of forty or fifty, it would have been maturity and steadiness, deep as a still pool and towering as a peak, his words worth a thousand in gold, brooking no doubt.
And precisely because of that, his answer left the two of them even more puzzled. For a man like Old Kang, being able to ask such a question was by no means a simple matter; and given the manner of their dealings, Old Kang was hardly striking a bargain with him or expecting repayment of anything. An ordinary man might have let his head go foolish for a moment and declined out of pride or something of the sort, but Ning Yi was certainly no such hotheaded fool. Amid the other man's puzzlement, Ning Yi gave a helpless, bitter smile.
"Hah, I understand that this is a puzzling thing, only..."
He lightly tapped his own forehead.
"The two of you may not know, but a few months ago I took a blow to the head and only woke after several days unconscious. What came before is mostly gone — seven or eight parts in ten forgotten. Rank and merit, for now, are truly hard to put my heart into.
And as for drifting with a crowd of talents through the brothels and painted boats, writing poems to win the favor of women — that, too, can't raise much interest in me. It's the children in the schoolroom that I find interesting; now and then I tell them a story, and they make a fine racket.
Otherwise I come down to this riverside, play chess, drink tea, and find it easy and comfortable. There are some interesting ideas in my head as well, and perhaps I can work them out slowly. As this life stands, I'm content with it.
As for a few dirty looks — why should I mind them? What the future holds, I still can't work out even now. Only, Minggong's kind intentions — those I do understand."
He cupped his hands in salute and nodded. "This, I will keep in mind."
The speech was naturally part true and part false, but of course he could not explain the real circumstances to them. Tying such feelings to the business of being struck on the head and losing his memory, then shoving the whole thing off onto that — that was the best way out. The reason needed no further explaining: it was reasonable enough, and it spared the other party the superfluous sense of salted-radish worrying over nothing — it was simply that a problem had cropped up on his own side.
Sure enough, once he had finished, Old Kang and Old Qin both looked puzzled, so Ning Yi told the tale of his lost memory again; only then did their faces clear with understanding. Kang Xian shook his head and laughed. "To think such a thing happened." He simply took it that after losing his memory, Ning Yi's way of thinking had turned a little odd.
After that Old Kang said no more about those matters. He drank a cup of tea, and Ning Yi picked up the whiteboard and the charcoal, took his leave, and went on to Yushan Academy. Only when that figure had vanished at the far corner of the road did Old Kang sigh. "I never expected such a turn. A beating like that, and it beat a placid, unambitious nature into him. Among young men, such a temperament is truly rare — only, all that talent is a waste."
Old Qin smiled and took a sip of tea. "He's barely past twenty. How can anyone say what he'll become? With his gifts, the things he's meant to meet he won't be able to avoid. Only, from what I saw today, there are some things that worry me... Minggong, this Liheng is too practical."
Kang Xian's brows drew together. "Now that you say it, that is indeed so. His poems and ci come off his brush and every line is a fine one, yet he doesn't care a straw for the craft of poetry. Hah — 'When will the bright moon come'... hanging from the southeast branch... Calligraphy too, at his fingertips, so many styles, and every one of them reaching such heights; in daily life he probably treats it as no more than a pastime. In his eyes these things aren't even as interesting as the chalk..."
Old Qin nodded. "Being practical is a good thing in itself. But if a man is too practical — straight in, straight out — I fear he'll run into trouble later... Liheng does understand a fair deal about seeking advantage and avoiding harm, but he's young and full of spirit after all, and in some matters he's rather proud. He had no patience to humor the students' little test, and he turned down their invitation; yet before you and me he makes little effort to hide anything. That is likely the reason..."
He thought for a moment, then laughed. "No need to think on it further. We are only friends met over a chessboard; worrying too much is going too far. Now that we know his thinking, that is enough. As for what happens from here — we'll see."
Over these past days the name Ning Yi had stirred ripples large and small in Jiangning. Those who could learn of the Shui Diao Ge Tou, and learn this name with it, would naturally form all sorts of guesses and opinions. Most opinions were in fact simple, but the nearer one stood, the more complicated they gradually became.
Old Kang and Old Qin, for instance; or many in the Su family — distant kin and close, stewards, servants and the like. Nearer still, and one came without question to Old Master Su, Su Boyong, and their kind.
Then there were Chan'er, Juan'er and Xing'er: in the past few days Xing'er had often teased the two of them with "A thousand li apart, we share the same 'Chan.'" Chan'er was more or less prepared for it.
As for Juan'er, she was truly caught in the crossfire — every time her face flushed scarlet, her cheeks burning so hot she was like a scalding little teapot, and in private she complained to Chan'er, "Why did the son-in-law have to write that line..."
So these past days, whenever she saw Ning Yi, she kept her head down and slipped out of his way.
Among them all, the one with the most tangled feelings was, of course, Su Tan'er. Frankly, what weighed on her most was not how talented her husband was, nor how strange his character was, but this: she could no longer read him.
She had married Ning Yi in the first place because he was simple, because she could see through him with ease, and because once they were wed and he had come into the household, she could take part in the Su family's business with fewer objections. The marriage might still be in name only, but in her heart she had already accepted him, more or less; what remained was only a matter of time.
Who would have thought that by now she would discover that she could not see through this husband of hers at all.
Of course, for now it was only a hint of something. Her husband seemed placid and unambitious, not like a man nursing hidden schemes, and Su Tan'er was a quiet, clever woman who would hardly fly into a panic over it. Still, in the spaces between one shop's business and the next, her thoughts could not help but linger here. In these times, however clever and independent a girl might be, once she had married, who could truly be indifferent to her own husband?
These days she was busy as ever managing the Su family's many silk and cloth shops in Jiangning. In her spare time she had sent Juan'er back to the alley where Ning Yi used to live to ask after news. In the course of business, acquaintances she happened to deal with would sometimes ask, "That Ning Yi, Ning Liheng — is he your husband?" and then go on praising the Shui Diao Ge Tou.
After the wedding she ought, properly, to have brought her live-in husband out to meet the people she had known before, to establish once and for all that she had a husband of her own, and to make business dealings more convenient besides.
But at the wedding she had indulged a little temper, and then Ning Yi had been knocked unconscious and afterward needed time to recover; by now the pattern of their dealings had nearly set, and they spoke only when they ate at home.
Her manner toward Ning Yi was natural enough, but they were married, after all, and she had that much more reserve and pride about her; so to this day, apart from the one time she raised the matter of the Puyuan poetry gathering, she had never invited Ning Yi to go anywhere with her.
And by now it was probably harder still to propose.
In fact, she had already had inquiries made and information gathered about Ning Yi once before the wedding — mostly on her father's and grandfather's orders. She herself had gone with a few maids to look over the place, and had had Chan'er, Juan'er and Xing'er ask about Ning Yi's reputation.
What came back then was only this: a simple little bookworm, not particularly learned — not so far gone in his books as to be a fool, of course, or he would hardly have accepted the Su family's offer later and married in.
In these times, when a man married into another family, he had more or less resigned himself to his fate.
But this time, when she sent Juan'er to ask around, the news that came back was a little different.
Most of the assessments were, naturally, the same as before. Ning Yi's presence in that alley was not strong; some households only remembered after Juan'er had stressed several times that she meant the man who lived in such-and-such a courtyard: "Oh, so there was a fellow like that." Or else: "That silly bookworm? I heard he married into some family or other and sold the courtyard too." "Probably decided he'd never pass the exams himself." Talk of that sort made up the vast majority.
But two or three households gave a different account: "Oh, Liheng? I knew long ago that his learning was astonishing. He simply kept it low, and he's steady by nature; he doesn't care to compete with people. Not like those so-called talents, with barely any ink in their chests, who love to show off. That's what they mean by a full bucket never sloshes, a half bucket swishes... You've heard that Shui Diao Ge Tou too, I suppose, and that's why you're asking..."
"Married in? Yes, he married in — there was a betrothal contract, you see. Liheng is a sincere boy; a contract must be honored..."
"Third Auntie from next door and Second Uncle Niu at the mouth of the lane, they both say so. I gave them fifty coppers each..."
Little maid she might be, but Juan'er's skill at digging up information was not to be underestimated. Thinking it over now, she laughed and gave her own view.
"But I think they only said it after hearing the Shui Diao Ge Tou. It doesn't count for much. It's a pity Master Zou, who used to teach the son-in-law, passed away last year.
I did ask around — the son-in-law's teacher's widow barely remembers that there was ever such a person as the son-in-law; but once she understood why I'd come, she still said a few kind things. Master Zou's widow and her household don't seem to be doing well.
I took it on myself to send them two strings of cash, and brought some smoked meat along as well — sent in the son-in-law's name."
"That was the right thing to do..." Su Tan'er nodded, and then she smiled — but what came with the smile was still thick puzzlement. In gathering news, one did not simply believe whatever people said; and though some kind words had come in this time, the basic information was no different from before. Only after Juan'er had investigated in another direction did certain seemingly correct guesses gradually take shape before Su Tan'er's eyes.
"Those old gentlemen the son-in-law got to know when he went down to the river to play chess — they must be remarkable men... The one we can see most clearly now is probably that Old Master Kang who spoke up for the son-in-law at the Zhishui poetry gathering..."
"Hm?" Ning Yi's reputation before his memory loss could be confirmed, so whatever had happened must have happened after it. She had known before that Ning Yi had gone to the riverside to play chess and made a few chess friends there, but she had never looked into them. The information she received now genuinely startled her: her husband could actually know a personage of that caliber — was it luck, or something else besides? And the reports that came back after that left her stunned.
What spread from the Zhishui poetry gathering said only that Kang Xian was a great master of the School of Principle, how deep his accomplishments were in this and that, how he commanded respect. But the background hidden behind that had never really been concealed; people simply did not speak of it, and once investigated, it came out.
Kang Xian, Kang Mingyun, was not only a master calligrapher and an authority of the School of Principle; at the same time he had another identity — he was the consort of the Chengguo Princess, kin to the imperial house.
Though the Wu dynasty kept its imperial relatives under strict control, so that a consort could never take part in affairs of state or hold office, the Chengguo Princess was the present Emperor's own aunt; which made Kang Xian, so to speak, the Emperor's uncle by marriage.
Wealthy idler he might be and nothing more, but such a status was truly too exalted for words — nowhere within reach of a merchant family like the Su.
Once this news was uncovered, the shock it first brought was hard to put into words; Su Tan'er was dazed for a while. Yet after that moment of shock, a comparatively clear thread gradually lay itself out before her.
"How on earth did the son-in-law manage to make friends with such a great man? Chan'er says they just went over casually, played chess casually, and got acquainted." Juan'er was puzzled, then grew hesitant. "But come to think of it, Old Kang's identity, and the son-in-law's identity... ah..."
The rest Juan'er dared not say aloud, but it was enough. In the way of business, all sorts of information had to be filtered at every moment; sometimes a clue seemed hard to believe, but when the other clues were filtered away, what remained might be exactly that.
Her husband's identity, and that Old Master Kang's identity... both married into their wives' families?
To Su Tan'er, outlandish as this answer might seem to ordinary people, it was already the one closest to the heart of the matter.
Her husband perhaps had only some dealings with the man over a chessboard, and perhaps did not even know his identity — and yet the two of them did share this one thing. A consort's status looked exalted; he had taken a princess, but in truth he too had married into the imperial house.
With talent like his, he could never hold office in his life, never unfurl the ambitions in his breast. That he should feel a mutual sympathy at the sight of her husband was not hard to understand; and if so, no wonder he had stopped the mouths of the crowd at the Zhishui poetry gathering and spread her husband's fame.
That Shui Diao Ge Tou — her husband said some Daoist had passed by the gate. Not only would Grandfather not believe it, she herself absolutely would not. Xiao Chan would certainly never lie to her.
A Daoist chanted a ci — and would he have sung it aloud, at that? Either her husband had come by it in a stroke of inspiration, or it was Old Kang's own work; it was hard to say. She did not much mind now.
Her heart had been full of doubt before, and it had seemed there were suspicions everywhere; now that she had sorted out a single thread, everything opened up instead, and she no longer much cared about certain things.
Her husband's nature was in fact placid, and in speech and conduct he was not tiresome. Whether his talent ran high or low, she did not much care — lower was fine; he had married in, and she did not mind; higher was simply a welcome surprise. As for that Mid-Autumn poetry gathering, she had never imagined there was such maneuvering behind it. If it really was Kang Xian's scheme, it might well be that the old gentleman had acted on a whim, playing a joke.
"Watch this old man teach you — we'll give that wife of yours and the rest of your family a good fright..."
Thinking so, it was not impossible. Her husband's temper was placid, but at his age he might not truly be content with the lot of a live-in son-in-law. Grandfather did not wish to treat him harshly, and she herself did not want him looked down on; but a live-in son-in-law could not avoid the occasional dirty look. People would always have this or that opinion — that was a hurdle he had to cross himself, and if he wanted to display his talent a little on account of it, that too was understandable.
So then... could my husband really be meaning to tame this restless little woman of his?
Some things, once decided, would not change — that was the premise. She had had no particular demands, whether taking a husband in or marrying out; the point was that one day she was to take up the Su family's estate. With that premise, her husband could only be one who married in. So she thought, and the guesses in her heart were not displeasing to her; there was even a trace of liking in them.
There are no other possibilities... are there?
And so, on the way home, she smiled — softly, warmly, to herself...
It was a very private smile; even Juan'er and Xing'er, in the same carriage, did not notice it.