Chapter Two: Poetry and Chess

Time slipped by.

In the blink of an eye, it had already been three months since he arrived in this ancient world. Spring quietly gave way to the height of summer. Gardens, rockeries, pavilions, courtyards, streets, pleasure boats—Ning Yi was gradually becoming familiar with this ancient world, though often, he found himself bored.

Perhaps it was because he had once been so busy. Here, without computers or work, with nothing particular to occupy him, his hands itched for something to do. The Su family was quite content to see him idle; after all, the very reason they allowed him to marry into their household was to give Su Tan’er a reason to remain at home rather than be married off, and it was best if this reason wasn’t too troublesome. Of course, by and large, he enjoyed this idleness—wandering each day, observing the customs and scenery of the ancient world, admiring the ladies, letting his mind drift. Most often, whenever he saw something, he would wonder how much more profitable it could be if he were to run it himself, or how he might make money from it.

He laughed at himself for being so thoroughly a businessman, unable to shake old habits. These thoughts would flicker by, only to sink back into the depths of his mind.

Compared to his leisure, his nominal wife, Su Tan’er, was clearly much busier. Nevertheless, no matter how busy she was, she would almost always return home for meals. In this sense, life in the ancient world had its charms; a woman could never come and go as freely as a man, and the pace of work was not nearly as relentless as in modern times. There were no laptops to carry, no flights to catch, no constant flood of urgent information. In an era when news traveled slowly, there could be no true workaholics; there was always time to rest, since after issuing a command, one could count on a leisurely wait for a response.

Perhaps she considered him a genuinely quiet and honest man. At every meal, it was always she who started the conversation, sharing news, keeping things lively. Ning Yi would reply with a few casual words, but after years of navigating the business world, he had mastered the art of sounding sincere even when he was not. He was leagues ahead of Su Tan’er in this, and every mealtime together reminded him of the couple in the film “Mr. & Mrs. Smith.”

After eating, if it rained, everyone would usually retreat to their own rooms: Su Tan’er would read, occasionally play the zither or do embroidery; Ning Yi would read or write, or simply stare into space. Sometimes, he would pull out a sheet of paper and run through business simulations or stock market hypotheses, only to lose interest—unless there was something urgent, Su Tan’er would also occasionally go out in the carriage. On fine days, Ning Yi would stroll the city, while Su Tan’er visited shops and workshops; their paths rarely crossed during the day.

The maidservant Xiaochan always accompanied him. Over the past few months, she had become his personal attendant, as arranged by Su Tan’er. It was clear Xiaochan was eager to get on his good side; she would chatter as she tidied his room, sharing family gossip or news of where her mistress had gone or what she had done. She greatly admired and liked Su Tan’er, who was indeed kind to her servants. Ning Yi would usually respond with a nod or a smile. When they were out, the girl always trailed behind. Occasionally, he felt guilty and would sit in a teahouse to rest, sampling snacks; Xiaochan would pull out a delicate little purse to pay, making him feel that the life of a pampered heir in ancient times was probably just like this.

It was much the same in modern times, really. He hadn’t swiped his own card to buy anything in years… In fact, it had been a long time since he’d actually gone shopping at all.

Lately, he had taken to watching people play chess by the Qinhuai River.

There was a quiet street by the riverside, on the city’s edge, a little out of the way. No major shops, just small vendors with shoulder poles, and not many passersby. Beneath a riverside tree, an old man often set up a chessboard. Sometimes other old men would gather to watch, and occasionally a scholar or two would join. There was a nearby tea stall. One day, he and Xiaochan had grown tired from walking and stopped to rest there. While sipping tea, they watched two old men at a game—both with remarkable skill. He thought to himself that, indeed, in ancient times, even casual players were this good. He began to drop by often. One of the old men was always there; the opponents changed, but over time, they became familiar faces, all highly skilled.

This kind of intellectual exercise was one of the few entertainments he found here. In fact, the Qinhuai River was known as the most prosperous and decadent district, with clusters of pleasure boats and brothels—by night, it became a city that never slept. Strolling each day, he often overheard tales of romance and intrigue. Yet, having married into the Su family, he was naturally insulated from such amusements. In his previous life, he had seen all manner of extravagance; now, he found little interest in it.

One day, though the sky was overcast, rain still seemed far off. He and Xiaochan went to the tea stall. Two old men were playing, when a manservant hurried over, exchanged a few words with one of them. The old man nodded. “Master Qin, there is an urgent matter at home; this game…”

“Since there’s no clear winner yet, shall we call it a draw?”

“That would be best…”

They exchanged a few polite phrases. The departing old man left, and the one who owned the chess set began to pack up. Ning Yi drained his cup, stood up. “Nothing more to watch. Xiaochan, pay the bill.”

As Xiaochan reached for her purse, the old man addressed him, “Young master, you have been watching the games often lately. You must have some skill yourself. Would you care to play a round with this old man?” With no opponent, he simply picked someone at random.

“Uh…” Ning Yi hesitated, glancing at the sky. “I’m not that good… but all right.”

He sat down across from the old man and helped clean up the board. Naturally, there were questions about where he was from and so forth; Ning Yi answered casually. When the pieces were ready, they drew lots—Ning Yi took white and made the first move, placing the piece down with a snap.

“Hmm, this opening…” The old man shot him a look, then simply frowned and responded.

So it went, move for move, for a dozen turns. The old man's brow furrowed deeper. At last, he asked, “Forgive me, young master, but who taught you to play?”

“I just studied chess manuals on my own.”

“Ah, that explains it…”

After that, the old man said no more. Under the riverside tree, the two played silently. Xiaochan sat nearby, occasionally glancing at the sky. She knew nothing of Go; all she saw was that the longer they played, the longer the old man pondered each move, his wrinkles deepening, shooting Ning Yi periodic glances or shaking his head. On the board, the white stones surged forward, while the black pieces were gradually cut down.

After more than an hour, the old man conceded, lifting his gaze to study Ning Yi carefully. Ning Yi remained mildly amused, as if everything was simply interesting. “Your skill is truly impressive, young master. But perhaps your style is a little…” The old man searched for words. Ning Yi, collecting the pieces, smiled, “The aim in chess is victory, just as in war—why worry about methods?”

“Chess is the art of gentlemen…”

“Do you believe you can see a man’s character in how he plays?” Ning Yi remarked offhandedly, gathering the pieces. “Is it accurate?”

The old man hesitated, then smiled and shook his head. “Not particularly.”

With the board packed away and the sky threatening rain, Ning Yi and Xiaochan made their way back to the Su residence. Along the way, Xiaochan shot him a surprised look, unable to hold back a question. “Did you win, sir?”

“Yes. I suppose I’d best not go back to watch chess for a while.”

“Why not?”

“He probably thinks I’m a scoundrel.”

“He thinks you’re a bad person just for winning a game?” The girl glanced back. “He must be upset you beat him. What a small-minded old man.”

Of course, this was just idle talk. The old man was cultured enough not to be angry over such things. Still, chess in this era was played with restraint among friends—openly and honorably, nothing excessive or relentless. Aggressive or unsporting tactics were frowned upon. But for Ning Yi, chess was a pure contest of intellect, and with his modern knowledge, the imbalance of information meant that, despite the old man’s skill, he could not withstand Ning Yi’s relentless attacks. It gave Ning Yi a small, guilty pleasure—bullying the ancients with modern wiles.

That evening, when he returned home, Su Tan’er was just coming in as well. The maid Xing’er was supervising a few people carrying bolts of bright, colorful cloth into her mistress’s room—new stock, most likely. Seeing them return, Juan’er, who was upstairs, came down holding a large wooden box. “Sir, sir, mistress heard you like chess. She saw this in the market today and bought it for you.” In truth, it was a gift someone else had sent, which Su Tan’er had no use for and passed along. It was a box of Go pieces. Ning Yi was startled. “Is that so? Thank her for me.”

“You can thank her yourself,” the girl giggled, and ran back upstairs. Ning Yi shook his head and carried the Go box to his room. He hardly knew anyone here—who would he play with?

Back in her room, Juan’er found that the porters had already left. Imitating Ning Yi’s voice, she said, “Mistress, sir says, ‘Thank my lady for me.’” Su Tan’er, busy with her account books, tapped the girl lightly on the forehead. The mistress and her maids had grown up together; though they observed rank, they were as close as sisters. But when Su Tan’er was busy, there was little time for jokes. Once she finished with the accounts, she inspected the new cloth. Just then, Chan’er and Xing’er also came in. Seeing Chan’er, Su Tan’er smiled, “Out watching chess with sir again today?”

“Mhm.” Chan’er shook her head. “Didn’t understand a thing.”

“I don’t like Go either,” Su Tan’er said with a shake of her head. After a busy morning out, she finally had a moment to rest. She picked up a sheet of calligraphy from the table, frowning as she asked Chan’er, “Did sir really write this poem?”

Chan’er peered at it—it was something she had grabbed that morning. “Yes, I saw him write it. He said he was practicing his calligraphy.”

Su Tan’er frowned at the poem for a while before putting it down. Chan’er had snatched it up in haste that morning, and only now, after running around all day, did Su Tan’er have a chance to read it. Xing’er, who had not seen it yet, was curious about her mistress’s expression and came over. All three maids had received some education, but as they read, their little faces crumpled in confusion.

“Three lotuses float on the green pond… the raft is filled with longing, dew beads… wet on the sandy shore, dusk quiet, dawn silent… What does it mean?”

In the next room, Ning Yi stood at his desk, sorting through sheets of calligraphy, intending to throw them out or burn them. The day before, he had practiced his writing across ten pages, only now noticing one missing. He shook his head, laughing, “It would be strange if they understood…”

Soon, a thunderstorm broke.

Summer rains here came with a vengeance. Amid the deafening downpour, the sky grew so dark it seemed like evening. Yet in such weather, opening the window to gaze out at the rain-drenched gardens and courtyards had a certain leisure about it. From his room, Ning Yi could occasionally glimpse Su Tan’er and her maids moving about in the opposite wing. Before long, Chan’er came in with some colorful fabric while Ning Yi was examining the Go set at his desk. “Sir, mistress says this is new silk. She sent me to take your measurements for a new outfit. Please pick a color you like.”

“Anything is fine.”

“New clothes can’t be ‘anything.’” The girl muttered as she measured his height and arm length. Ning Yi watched the rain, then glanced at the girl beside him.

“Do you have anything to do this afternoon?”

“Nothing, really.”

“Then play chess with me.”

“I don’t know how to play Go.”

“Not Go. I’ll teach you Five-in-a-Row.”

“Five-in-a-Row?” The girl looked up, puzzled. She’d never heard of such a game…

And so, in that usually quiet courtyard, the laughter of a young girl often rang out that afternoon. Though they were generally composed and demure, Su Tan’er was only eighteen, and her three maids were but fourteen or fifteen. Faced with something new and fun, who could maintain decorum? In the next room, Su Tan’er sat by the window reading, while Xing’er and Juan’er embroidered side by side on small stools. Now and then, amidst the rain, a jubilant cry of “I won, I won!” drifted over, piquing their curiosity. After hearing it several times, Xing’er pricked her finger with a needle, sucked at her fingertip, and peered across in confusion.

“That Chan’er, what on earth is she up to…”