Chapter Sixteen: Nie Yunzhu

After the Mid-Autumn Festival, the weather in Jiangning remained clear for only two days before turning overcast. Walking along the streets, the cool autumn wind whirled fallen leaves, lending a touch of desolation to the once bustling city. Of course, to most people, the city seemed unchanged—autumn was always meant to be like this. The river's waters gleamed with clarity; painted boats drifted on, their oars stirring gentle sounds as they glided between the weeping willows. The wind swept up nearby leaves, spinning them onto the water's surface, where they floated and drifted away with the shimmering waves. Along the city roads, people of all kinds—merchants, laborers, sedan chairs, and carriages—came and went. Broad streets, narrow alleys, long stone steps, wooden bridges arching over narrower parts of the river; where the current slowed, one could see women washing clothes on the stone banks, chatting and laughing. In the distance, the aromas of tea houses and taverns wafted on the air.

Most people remained busy with the endless affairs of daily life; it was, after all, what they were used to. If they happened to pause for leisure, perhaps sitting in a tea house or resting by the roadside, recent gossip would inevitably arise. Chief among these was the matter of the Mid-Autumn night, especially the birth of the poem "Prelude to the Water Melody," the events at the Still Water Poetry Gathering, and the renowned scholar Kang Xian berating the assembled guests.

Every drama requires a cause, a process, and a result—a touch of coincidence and suspense too. If it were simply the tale of a gifted scholar astonishing the crowd with his verse, people would have tired of it long ago. Add a talented maiden’s favor, and the story becomes more dramatic. But "Prelude to the Water Melody" offered more: people delighted both in fine verse and in such tales. These days, if one lingered in the pleasure quarters, the girls would inevitably sing "When Will the Bright Moon Appear," and offer their own assessments of its beauty.

As for the identity of the lyricist, it remained a matter of speculation; reliable information had yet to surface.

The Su residence, Ning Yi, also known as Ning Liheng—the son-in-law by marriage.

At the Still Water Poetry Gathering, Kang Xian’s scathing remarks confirmed the poem’s brilliance, but failed to quell the lingering doubts in people’s hearts. Why had Ning Yi’s name been so obscure before? Why would someone of such talent marry into a merchant’s household? And most importantly—was this poem truly his, or had he bought or plagiarized it? This question kindled the greatest curiosity in every discussion.

Scandal is always more dramatic than praise, and people are more inclined to believe it. The buying of poems and trading on false reputations was hardly unheard of among scholars. Given his lowly status as a son-in-law by marriage, some even claimed he was spineless and unfilial, unworthy of a true man’s dignity. To them, no man of pride would stoop so low.

Yet, there was also talk these past days that the Su family’s second daughter, Tan’er, was a beauty of rare grace and gentle temperament, and that Ning Yi, smitten at first sight, had willingly married into her family for the sake of lifelong companionship. But in this male-dominated era, few would believe such tales. With courtesan culture rampant and women’s status little better than merchandise, who would believe a man would go so far for a woman? Even if some believed it, if the man were talentless, it would be one thing; but if truly gifted and still willing to marry in, it would be seen as a disgrace to manhood, learning, and society itself.

In this age, people preferred tales where the hero returned in glory to wed the woman he loved, not ones where a man abandoned all for love. So, as the days passed, speculation about Ning Yi tended toward the negative. To marry in was an original sin. Of course, with no solid conclusion, curiosity kept people waiting for more credible news. On the other hand, regarding the poem itself and the author’s talent, admiration remained high and only grew with each passing day. In this Mid-Autumn’s poetry contest, its acclaim far outshone all other entries—such an event had not occurred for many years.

The liveliest area along the Qinhuai River was near the Temple of Confucius and the Examination Hall, across the water from the pleasure quarters. It was just past noon; these establishments had yet to open, but those who needed to be up had already risen. Walking by, one could glimpse women leaning on balconies or chatting and laughing upstairs; faint strains of music could be heard from within the courtyards—zither and flute drifting on the air.

Some of these melodies were practiced by accomplished performers, others by young girls learning music from the teachers arranged by the brothels. At this moment, in the inner courtyard of the Golden Wind Pavilion, a zither lesson was drawing to a close. Several young girls earnestly played the assigned piece, while a plainly dressed woman, hair simply pinned, sat at a small table in front, resting her chin in her hand as she listened.

The woman herself was only in her early twenties. Her attire was modest and far less colorful than the usual brothel fare, but her features were refined—a delicate oval face, elegant brows, and a gentle, graceful air. Sitting there quietly, listening to the zither, she seemed as ethereal as an ink painting, far surpassing the girls before her in both presence and beauty.

Normally, once the music ended, she would offer a few pointers and the lesson would end. But as she began to gather her things, the girls exchanged glances, and one called out with a smile, "Sister Yunzhu, could you teach us to sing ‘Prelude to the Water Melody’?"

"Prelude to the Water Melody?" The woman, Yunzhu, was momentarily stunned. She looked at them, blinking, unsure why they wanted to learn this particular piece. The girls quickly explained.

"The guests these days all want to hear it…"

"The one from Mid-Autumn night…"

"We like it too."

Hearing this, she understood. "Mid-Autumn? A new poem from this festival?"

"Sister Yunzhu, you don’t know?"

"I’ve been busy lately and haven’t paid attention…" A gentle smile touched her lips, though beneath it was a hint of fatigue—something the young girls likely could not see.

Chirping noisily, the girls produced a booklet with the lyrics. Yunzhu sat and read it, her lips moving soundlessly. She truly understood the poem’s beauty, and soon her expression grew intent. The girls chattered on, recounting the poem’s origin that Mid-Autumn night.

"…It’s a pity the author married into another family."

"Yes, a son-in-law by marriage…"

"People say he bought the poem…"

"But it’s really beautiful… ‘When will the bright moon appear, I raise my cup and ask the sky…’"

The girls, still learning music, had heard the older sisters singing this song every day. They could manage to sing it themselves, though their playing was rough. There were even musical scores for "Prelude to the Water Melody" in the Pavilion; they had practiced the fingerings, but it was always better to be guided.

"A son-in-law…" Yunzhu sighed, glancing over the lyrics after their story. "Then you all must know the melody by now?"

"We’ve tried, but some parts are tricky…"

"As long as you’ve learned the tune. This piece has some particularly unique fingerings, and the lyrics can be adapted slightly. I’ll play it with you, then explain…"

The girls returned to their zithers. Yunzhu’s gaze swept over them; her fingers pressed down on the strings. After a delicate, smoke-like smile, she plucked the first notes.

"When will the bright moon appear…"

The room filled with gentle music. With so many playing, it should have been chaotic, but one melody rang out clearly—a steady, beautiful line guiding the others. Though the volume was the same, this melody’s spirit seemed to subsume the rest. Soon, her soft, refined voice joined them, leading their singing. Had any connoisseur been present, they would have realized that her musical skill and singing far exceeded most in the Pavilion, rivaling even Yuan Jin’er, the current star performer.

Where Yuan Jin’er’s voice was lively and bright, Yunzhu’s was like flowing water and chiming bells, quieting the heart. As the music rose, girls from nearby rooms drifted over to listen. When the song ended, someone remarked, "It’s Sister Yunzhu…"

"Sister Yunzhu’s singing is still the best…"

Some admired her, others felt envy. Soon, the lesson ended and the girls continued practicing on their own. Yunzhu, in her plain dress and simple hairpin, took a small bundle and left the room, greeting acquaintances along the corridor before going to the matron’s room to collect her fee. Leaving, she ran into Yuan Jin’er in the hallway.

"Sister Yunzhu."

"Jin’er."

"I heard you singing upstairs just now. ‘Prelude to the Water Melody’ really is best sung by you. I can’t find that state of mind; my singing just isn’t as good."

Yuan Jin’er, seventeen and spirited, chatted warmly. Then, her bright smile faded and she asked softly, "Sister Yunzhu, how is Walnut doing?"

"She’s better these days; another few days and she should recover fully."

"That’s good…" Yuan Jin’er nodded, glanced around to ensure privacy, and produced a small pouch. "Sister, I know your temperament, but since Walnut is ill, you must need extra for emergencies. Please take this—it's not much, but you cared for me in the past, and I haven’t forgotten…"

She tried to press the silver into Yunzhu’s hands, but Yunzhu, though moved, declined.

"Walnut is truly recovering. If she weren’t, I wouldn’t risk pretending otherwise. Keep your money—perhaps one day you can buy your own freedom and live as you wish…"

"I’m not as determined as you, Sister." Both women’s eyes grew misty as they spoke from the heart. Yuan Jin’er brushed the corners of her eyes and smiled. "I think I’ll just marry someone and be done with it. Money on hand doesn’t matter much. I still have enough anyway…"

"If you meet a scholar you like…"

"I won’t marry a penniless man who’s only good with words. A silver tongue doesn’t put food on the table. I was born to be a concubine or a maid; I’ll only marry someone with money and status. At least I’m known now, so it won’t be hard to find a match…"

So it was that each woman had her own ambitions. Arm in arm, they walked and chatted, parting at the side gate of the Golden Wind Pavilion. Yuan Jin’er waved with a smile, watching until Yunzhu’s figure vanished from sight before lowering her hand.

She felt a tinge of envy, but also a kind of sorrow she could not name.

The woman called Sister Yunzhu was Nie Yunzhu, once one of the Pavilion’s most beloved performers—a master of zither, song, poetry, and painting. Yet, because of her tranquil nature, she never sought fame, refusing even to compete for the coveted title of "Qinhuai Queen." Two years ago, she saved enough to buy freedom for herself and her maid Walnut, and found a modest place to live. Even now, some patrons asked after her when they visited the Pavilion.

Other women who bought their freedom often maintained ties with their former clients, joining poetry gatherings and the like. But Yunzhu was different; she severed nearly all old connections. Life in the pleasure quarters is a cycle of meeting and parting; two years away and she had faded from this world, teaching zither now only to earn a little income.

But teaching music never paid much, and even without her, there were plenty of others to fill the role. She still had some silver left when she redeemed herself two years ago, but by now, it was nearly gone. The two women, unaccustomed to life outside, had quickly spent their savings. Walnut, though dutiful, was not skilled in household matters. In two years, their money had dwindled, forcing them to rely again on odd jobs at the Pavilion. Lately, Walnut had fallen ill, and their circumstances seemed bleak. Yuan Jin’er, grateful for Yunzhu’s past kindness, tried to help with some silver, but Yunzhu would not accept it.

Ah, womanhood—in this world, what freedom is there? The pleasure quarters might seem glorious, with noble youths competing for favor and endless songs and silks, but in the end, their fate was always that of concubine or servant. Who would ever take a courtesan as a legitimate wife? Sister Yunzhu was strong-willed, but if she too left to start anew, how long could a weak woman survive alone, without support? In the end, she would likely return to the Pavilion.

With a light sigh, Yuan Jin’er turned and walked back…

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Leaving the pharmacy, Nie Yunzhu counted her remaining coins and tucked them into her innermost pocket.

Including what she’d gotten for pawning her hairpin, there was enough for a little while longer. Most importantly, Walnut was finally recovering—this was the greatest relief.

When they left the brothel two years prior, neither had much experience living independently. Walnut, though she’d known hardship as a child, had spent so long in the Pavilion that her memories of poverty were distant. Just being able to cook was an achievement. With no real plan, the two of them drifted through life, taking odd jobs—Yunzhu teaching music at the Pavilion—but their expenses always outstripped their earnings. Now, little silver remained, but with Walnut on the mend, the two of them could find work and hopefully balance their needs.

She picked up the small cloth bundle of personal items in one hand and the wrapped medicine in the other, heading home. Her attention was half on her pocket; since moving out, she’d had her purse stolen twice in crowded places, a lingering regret. As she left Suzaku Avenue, the crowds thinned and her vigilance eased. The shops along the street grew sparser, and as she neared a corner, a figure flashed into view.

Huh…

She looked up in surprise, but the figure had already disappeared around the corner. Quickening her pace, she reached the intersection and caught sight of him at last.

It was indeed him…

Not far away, a thin, scholarly man stood in front of a cluster of shops, holding a large wooden board. He glanced at the goods on display, idly swinging the board back and forth, then nodded and stepped inside a shop.

It seemed he was buying charcoal.

Nie Yunzhu paused, then followed him…

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