Chapter Thirty-One: Complexity

From the moment Song Mao departed in the afternoon, Su Wenxing had been eagerly awaiting the onset of night. This urgency was not merely for his own sake, but stemmed from the boastful promises he had made to several close friends and sworn brothers beforehand: he had claimed that with his uncle’s arrival, he would surely expose the pretentious scholar facade of that Ning Yi, whose reputation he believed was nothing more than empty fame. This was precisely why, upon hearing Song Mao lavish praise on Ning Yi in the library, Su Wenxing had rushed to inquire about it.

“I think your uncle simply doesn’t want to get involved in these matters. Just look at what he said in the library... Clearly, he didn’t know Ning Yi was the teacher at first, and after he spoke highly of him, saying he had great talent, he couldn’t retract it. Fifth Brother, stop bluffing... Hmph, I really don’t know what Ning Yi has done to leave people so stunned. Are you sure he wasn’t some professional con artist in the past...?”

As dusk settled, several young men sat chatting in the pavilion in the courtyard. Most of them belonged to the second branch of the Su family. Truth be told, if not for Song Mao’s arrival, Su Wenxing would not have been the center of attention among them. Their alliance was more about indulging in pleasure and camaraderie than any real pursuit of shared interests, but familial ties naturally drew them closer.

Since they all benefited from the second branch, their worries about its future mixed with their usual pursuits—feasting, revelry, playing at being scholars, and frequenting brothels. Though Su Tan’er always seemed confident and, thanks to her financial strategies, had kept many of the younger generation neutral, when it came to choosing sides, most still favored the second or third branch. The reason, inevitably, was Su Tan’er’s status as a woman. Of course, these loyalties were flimsy; the third generation of the Su family held little real power, and when the real struggle began, their numbers would serve only to give the impression of strength.

Still, while waiting to become significant members of the household, they could do their part to undermine their opponents’ advantages. In the eyes of these idle young men, who liked to pose as scholars and visit the pleasure houses, Ning Yi—Su Tan’er’s husband, a man with a reputation they could never hope for—was a target of constant resentment.

If I had his fame, even if the rooms of the top courtesan on Qinhuai River were off limits, at least I’d make the most of it. But he doesn’t even go to the brothels—what a waste! And his reputation is surely false... Intolerable...

Yet, resentment aside, it was difficult to actually strike a blow against him. When Ning Yi told Elder Su that the poem was not his own, Su Zhongkan and Su Yunfang were present and heard it. However, Elder Su had ordered the matter not to be spread. Who would dare openly reveal it, claiming it as a Su family member? Rumors could be released quietly, but there were far too many for anyone to believe. Nor could they simply “expose” anything at home, since Ning Yi had already admitted it! His stance was bold, fearing nothing, and many even believed he was deliberately keeping a low profile.

As Su family members, they could not go outside and betray their own kin, nor could they act against him within the household. The situation was therefore difficult. Song Mao’s arrival presented the perfect opportunity: as a dignified prefect, ignorant of the internal affairs, he could publicly and righteously denounce Ning Yi’s false reputation, and Elder Su could hardly blame him for being unaware. Once word spread, they could decisively draw a line between themselves and Ning Yi. Perhaps, in the future, while visiting the brothels, they could share a heartfelt moment with a beauty: “My second sister’s husband—I thought he was learned, but who would have thought...” and so on.

Thus, as soon as Song Mao arrived, the group, after some discussion, crowded around Su Wenxing to bring up the matter. Song Mao had always doted on Su Wenxing, and the others noticed this. Afterward, Su Wenxing emerged, full of pride: “It’s settled.” But soon, in the library, Song Mao was seen praising Ning Yi, and the others scoffed at Su Wenxing. After all, Song Mao’s reputation was for honesty and integrity, and his praise for Ning Yi seemed heartfelt, so their scheme appeared to have failed.

“You don’t understand. Ning Yi wasn’t present, so what could my uncle say? Only that his teaching was lacking. My uncle was just being polite, offering compliments. When Ning Yi returns, his guard down, at the evening banquet, he’ll be tested. Even if he wishes to avoid it, he won’t be able to.”

After leaving his uncle’s room, Su Wenxing recalled Song Mao’s words, finding them deeply meaningful, and promptly explained them to his friends. Yet, by evening, doubts arose again, though at this point, the group still believed in Su Wenxing.

“He’s Wenxing’s uncle; a mere favor for him. Who else would he help?” someone said.

“To expose Ning Yi, you must first approach him, praise him, and then, at the banquet, ask casual questions to reveal his true abilities. In the past, when scholars invited Ning Yi, he always managed to avoid answering, simply because they weren’t familiar with him. Now, the prefect has praised him, so he must act close, and then the real test comes. Wen Tian, do you think the prefect’s strategy is so simple?” spoke Su Wen Gui, the second eldest among the Su men, a slightly thin but capable fellow, fond of comparing himself to Zhuge Liang after reading many novels. His words carried more weight than Su Wenxing’s, calming Wen Tian, who smiled awkwardly.

“I just couldn’t bear seeing the household spread tales of Ning Yi’s supposed talents.”

“What talent? We’ve all investigated him—a mere bookworm,” Su Wen Gui frowned. “In my view, all of Ning Yi’s actions are orchestrated by Second Sister. At tonight’s banquet, if the prefect asks something, Second Sister will likely smooth things over, or claim Ning Yi is unwell, or arrange some minor mishap, making it hard for the prefect to press further. We must assist, making Ning Yi lose face. After exposing him, we can properly distance ourselves from him, and Second Sister’s plans will be thwarted...”

The group nodded, discussing the matter. Wen Tian asked, “Wenxing, do you know where the prefect went this afternoon? If he was invited elsewhere, he may miss tonight’s dinner.”

Su Wenxing shook his head. “I’m not sure. Probably to visit his mentors.”

“They must be important figures,” Wen Tian replied with a smile. “Wenxing, wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could take us along one day? A few words of advice from such men...”

“Hmph, Wen Tian, you hardly study. A couple of words and you think you’ll become enlightened?”

“The teachers at Yu Shan Academy are mediocre. No matter how hard I study, it’s useless. Those important figures are different. I remember my poem once received endless praise at Ying Chun Tower. If only they’d advise me, I’d surely reach the heights...”

Wen Tian was always a bit foolish, believing himself to be talented, though the courtesans he frequented would ignore him were it not for his generous spending. The others mentally cursed his foolishness but did not bother to argue.

After a while, a servant approached to report that Song Mao had returned.

“The prefect returned with Ning Yi; they seemed quite familiar and were chatting happily.”

“So it is,” Su Wen Gui stood, calm and composed, snapping his folding fan against his palm. “The prefect is setting the stage. Otherwise, with Ning Yi’s status as a son-in-law and junior, even if he had some talent, the prefect would not behave so warmly. Tonight’s events will unfold as expected. Everyone... prepare yourselves.”

In the pavilion, his demeanor was detached and proud, exuding the sense of a strategist with the world in his grasp. The others were enthralled, eagerly agreeing, their spirits high.

*********************

Returning from outside, Ning Yi had no inkling that a group within the household was secretly plotting against him. He was surprised to learn at the Qin residence about his connection to Song Mao, but soon adjusted—he simply had to address Song Mao as “Uncle” instead of “Brother Song.”

Song Mao appeared honest but was actually shrewd. For Ning Yi, dealing with clever people posed no pressure, especially when the situation was clear. Yet upon returning to the Su residence, other circumstances still caught him slightly off guard.

Few in the Su household saw him return with Song Mao, which was of no consequence; they parted ways at the gate, and Ning Yi, carrying a jar of preserved eggs, made his way toward the rear courtyard. Soon, he came upon Xiao Chan waiting for him midway. The little girl had likely been wandering nearby for some time; her cheeks were flushed, and she ran over with a bright smile, clearly excited.

“Ha, nothing happened today? Oh, I have something for you...”

Xiao Chan was perhaps the closest person to Ning Yi in the Su household. Upon seeing her, he naturally gave her a preserved egg, shaking the jar in the air. Before he could open it, Xiao Chan, her attention elsewhere, hugged it tightly to her chest, thinking he wanted her to carry it.

“Master, listen to me, you really stood out today!”

“Oh,” Ning Yi replied, unsurprised, “I know, the exam in the library, right? How did Hei Zi and the others fare? If the old master rewarded them, Xiao Chan, as their teacher, should I take half or the other half...”

“Mm-hmm,” Xiao Chan nodded vigorously, delighted that Ning Yi had made a mark. “Besides the library, there’s something else. Master, you were amazing—just one word and you helped Miss settle the He family’s business... Too bad I was with Miss watching the snow and missed seeing the expression on Master He’s face when you spoke; it must have been priceless... Today, Miss, Cousin, and Manager Xi were all astonished, except for Xiao Chan, who wasn’t surprised at all... But Master really does know everything, so impressive. If I see Miss later...”

...

Amid swirling snowflakes, Xiao Chan, clutching the jar—perhaps unaware of it herself—walked along, chattering excitedly like a little hen. Ning Yi listened in silence for a while, finally sighing.

“Xiao Chan, what exactly happened with the He family? Could you tell me from the beginning, in detail...”

*******************

Today I made it to Sanjiang. I’ll have dinner later, then continue writing—maybe update another chapter at midnight.

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