Chapter Thirty-Two: The First Step (Part One)

Amidst the clamor of voices, the flames lit up the Su residence in the night. The green-tiled eaves soared, carved corridors and painted beams gleamed, and snowflakes, as they fell, were either pushed away by the warmth in the air or melted outright.

Tonight’s banquet had just begun, spreading from a side hall of the Su residence. With twenty-six tables—some round, some square—and just over two hundred guests, this was nothing more than an ordinary winter dinner at the Su residence. Such gatherings were less frequent in other seasons, but as the year’s end approached, the festivities naturally became more common.

The three main branches of the Su family were all present, along with many cousins and relatives, several senior household members who served the family, and, this time, several stewards from various regions who had gathered for the occasion. At the central round table sat Grandfather Su, Song Mao, and a few elders of the same generation, with Su Boyong, Su Zhongkan, and other household heads. The arrangement of the surrounding tables was also carefully considered; only those who had truly contributed to the family could sit so close. For example, the head of Yushan Academy, Su Chonghua, the chief steward Su Yunsong who managed business in one region, and several other stewards—even those of direct descent from the three main branches had to hold genuine authority and status to sit nearby. If Xi Junyu had been invited, he would likely have sat at one of these tables as well.

As for Su Tan’er, though she now managed many affairs of the main house, she was, after all, a woman and had yet to be formally recognized. As a result, she found herself seated a table further away from Ning Yi. There was little conversation between them, and though their expressions remained composed, who could truly say what was stirring in their hearts?

From that table onward, the seating rules grew more relaxed. At a nearby square table, Su Wenxing and Su Wengui were huddled together, occasionally casting scheming glances this way.

At that moment, neither Su Tan’er nor Ning Yi could have imagined that, during such an unremarkable banquet, several people would be watching them with fluctuating emotions, unable to find relief even as the evening wore on.

“Later, Prefect Song and the others will come over and praise that Ning Yi. Once Prefect Song starts talking, everyone will pay attention—then the real show will begin.”

Su Wengui felt he had seen through everything. When Song Mao mentioned Ning Yi early in the conversation and commended his teaching abilities, he became even more certain. About a quarter hour after the banquet began, the tables began to stir with activity, and a little later, Song Mao picked up his wine cup and walked about with Su Zhongkan.

Given Song Mao’s position as prefect, he could have remained at the main table, but he was always attentive to etiquette. This stroll was not to assert his status, but rather to blend in with Su’s family and friends as usual. After greeting the nearby tables, he had already shown great respect, but soon enough, he casually approached Su Tan’er and Ning Yi, and seemed about to say, “With both Tan’er and Liheng in the Su family…”

“I’ll go over,” Su Wenxing muttered, picking up a wine cup and moving closer, only to see Song Mao and Su Zhongkan turn and walk away just as he arrived. He paused, puzzled, and returned to his seat.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. Uncle just said a few words…”

“With his status, it’s not proper for him to say much. Maybe he’s waiting for the right moment—perhaps when Second Sister and Ning Yi come over to toast, then he’ll say something and test them,” Su Wengui replied darkly.

The flames flickered as the lively banquet continued. People moved about; children played; wine and laughter flowed. Yet for a few, preoccupied with their own concerns, there was little mood for food or amusement. Before long, Su Tan’er and Ning Yi stood up, and the others also grabbed their cups and mingled with the crowd heading toward the main table. After Su Tan’er and Ning Yi finished their toasts and returned, Su Wenxing and Su Wengui came back confused, glancing from Ning Yi to Song Mao. They whispered together, and after a while, the couple again got up to speak with Song Mao nearby. Su Wengui nudged Su Wenxing, who followed—only to return once more with his wine cup.

The banquet gradually drew to a close.

By strict custom, no one would leave until Grandfather Su had departed, but the old man enjoyed chatting here with his old friends. When the time seemed right, he laughed and waved a hand: “If you have matters to attend to, or if you’re full and merry, feel free to head out, scatter, scatter…”

Children who had played enough were already dozing, and some who had drunk too much were slumped over the tables. With that announcement, the atmosphere became even more relaxed. Some people left, while others came over to greet Grandfather Su and share amusing stories. Su Wengui’s face was dark as thunder; Su Wenxing, who had bragged for days about Song Mao’s coming, now felt his pride shattered, impossible to piece together.

“It was nothing—nothing at all…”

“Uncle never intended to test him at all…”

“If he wasn’t going to help, he could have just said so. Why talk so big before the banquet…”

Across the room, Song Mao was already standing, smiling, “I can’t hold my liquor…”—likely taking his leave. Su Tan’er and Ning Yi also went over to bid farewell to Grandfather Su. As Song Mao approached the door, Su Tan’er and Ning Yi turned to go as well. All of a sudden, Su Wenxing stood up abruptly, his face stormy. “Wait!”

The sudden outburst quieted the room for a moment, before the chatter resumed. Many turned to look, but no one thought the call was for them. At the door, Song Mao glanced over; Su Tan’er and Ning Yi looked back in confusion, glanced around, then continued on their way. Grandfather Su tilted his head, watching Su Wenxing, and blinked, “Oh, Wenxing, what’s going on over there? Is something the matter?”

“I… I… um… no, nothing…”

He finished the sentence and sat down in embarrassment.

A while later, he stood up again and hurried after Song Mao as he left.

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

After leaving the banquet and returning to his room, Song Mao drank a cup of sobering tea that Song Kai had already prepared, then washed his face.

He had not drunk much, just enough to wet his lips. His mind was still clear. Sitting at his desk, he took out a letter and placed it aside, ground some ink, spread out a few sheets of fine paper, readied his brush, and paused, considering his next words.

Today had been quite fruitful.

He had only intended a routine visit to Master Qin, expecting little in return. Such is the way of an official: one visits important figures, never knowing when a connection might prove useful. Maintaining good relations is always wise. He had harbored little expectation for the so-called bond of master and disciple with Qin Shiyuan; it was just a card to play, a relationship that might pay off if Qin ever returned to power, or at the very least, keep him in touch with Qin’s sons. It was not a deep relationship, and even he had not expected things to progress even slightly as they had today.

In the Qin residence earlier, the casual ease displayed by Ning Liheng and the two elders had truly astonished him. Their interactions were natural, but not the usual dynamic between elders and juniors. No wonder Master Qin had introduced him as a friend to Lord Ming. The shock was real, but it was not a bad thing. When he frankly explained his connection to the Su family, Master Qin’s attitude visibly changed, no longer the distant courtesy reserved for ordinary disciples. With the deepened relationship, Song Mao felt quite satisfied.

Moreover, he had met Kang Xian—Kang Mingyun.

As Song Mao pondered, he wrote a line at the top of the paper: “To Lord Kang Mingyun, with respect.” He paused. Soon, he would visit Lord Ming in person, and he weighed his words carefully, drawing a line under the character for “bestow” and writing “by the way” beside it. “Dao Jian”—a form of address suited for a respected scholar of virtue.

These details were minor, but at the moment, these were the matters occupying his thoughts. As for testing whether Ning Yi was a fame-seeker, he had abandoned that idea entirely after meeting him at the Qin residence. Honestly, with his current status, he had no reason to fear Qin Shiyuan, nor Kang Mingyun. And as for Ning Yi, a mere commoner who associated with those two—he had even less reason to fear or dread him. If he truly wished to act, Ning Yi was a minor figure.

But what would be the point?

Whether the second branch or that Su Tan’er girl ended up inheriting the Su family, it made little difference to what he could gain. What would be the point? From the moment he realized this, his decision was clear—whether Ning Yi sought fame or not, there was no need to expose him, and thus no need to test him at all.

As for that nephew, so eager to see the other embarrassed—well, that was a minor matter. Having made his decision, Song Mao gave it no further thought.

A little while later, Song Kai came in to report, “Young Master Wenxing requests an audience.”

He nodded, “Let him in.” His gaze remained fixed on the paper as he continued writing…

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

The wind swept snowflakes through the night, lending a touch of solitude and desolation to the snowy scene. From afar, the toll of a temple bell echoed through the darkness.

The banquet in the distance had mostly dispersed. Leaning over the balcony railing on the second floor, one could look out to see the firelight fading in the Su family’s vast courtyard. Ning Yi leaned there, gazing idly at the play of lanterns and shadows, the lights of rooms and pavilions glowing with poetic elegance amid the snowy veil.

Footsteps came from the direction of the stairs. He did not need to look to know who it was. These were not the lively steps of Xiao Chan, who was always eager to drag him downstairs, but footsteps that were gentle and quiet—or perhaps “calm and serene” would be more fitting.

Glancing aside, he glimpsed a corner of a silver-white fox-fur cloak approaching from the edge of his view. Shielded by a pillar, the figure paused on the other side and leaned against the railing, gazing out into the courtyard.

The two of them stood in silence for a while. If one turned to look, one could see the delicate, beautiful, still-youthful profile of the woman beside him. After a time, Su Tan’er finally spoke.

“My lord husband seems to enjoy the view from here.”

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” Ning Yi replied with a smile, knowing that the moment for their reckoning had arrived.

…

“My lord husband is a strange man.”

“Oh?”

*******

Who would have thought I’d only finish writing at five in the morning? The first volume will conclude with the next chapter. I’ll write some thoughts for the Sanjiang channel later, sharing my hopes for this book before going to sleep. Please go vote for “The Son-in-Law” on the Sanjiang channel, and don’t forget to click, bookmark, and recommend!