Chapter One: The Son-in-law of the Su Family

He awoke from his muddled state to the sight of a white mosquito net above him. A dull pain throbbed in his head. He had no idea where he was, so he closed his eyes and thought for a long time before letting out a faint sigh.

He was not dead.

So, was he now under house arrest?

He threw back the covers and sat up. Perhaps he had been unconscious for a long time, for his body felt out of sync with itself. Glancing down, he noticed the clothes he wore were strange in style and the fabric was poor. When he finally stood on the wooden floor, the sense of unfamiliarity deepened.

The room was furnished with old-fashioned beds, tables, chairs, and stools. Though well-made, everything was antique in style. There were fine porcelain pieces, but not a trace of modern electronic equipment. What are you playing at, Tang Mingyuan? He silently cursed the bespectacled man who came to mind, then—

His hand had changed too. It was not his own.

He examined his two pale hands, then sat at the table and unfastened his clothes. This body bore no bullet wounds. Was this a joke? He remembered clearly the hail of bullets that had come for him, from front and back. Had he undergone reconstructive surgery? No, this was not his original body. Every feature pointed to this. He confirmed it further when he looked into a bronze mirror and saw the unfamiliar reflection.

What trick are you playing, Tang Mingyuan? He had once been among the world’s most powerful financiers, a self-made man who would not be easily undone by a few doubts. With modern technology, anything was possible—could his body have been completely altered? But to what end? Was it to make him accept a new identity and give up competing with Tang Mingyuan? That indecisive fellow might well do so to save his own life, but why arrange such a room as this?

His head still throbbed beneath its bandages. He pushed open the door, and brilliant sunlight streamed in, making him instinctively shield his eyes. He stood on the second floor of a wooden house, and looking out, he saw nothing but rows upon rows of courtyards and gardens, pavilions in the Suzhou-Hangzhou style, ponds and rocks—an exquisite vista unfolding before him.

There were no skyscrapers, no signs of modernity.

He took a breath, then let it out. An extravagant production, Tang Mingyuan. How much did this cost? He glanced around, then turned to walk away, only to hear a voice: “Young Master-in-law…” Ah, an extra.

He was in no mood for idle chatter. As a pretty maid approached, he glanced at her, then pointed directly at her. Once the ruler of a vast financial empire, he carried a natural authority—just a look, a gesture, and the maid, dressed in her servant’s garb, shivered and stopped, stammering, “Young Master-in-law, you’re awake…”

He walked past her, but after a few steps, he turned back, lazily taking the robe from her hands—apparently meant for him to wear. Unfolding it, he muttered in frustration, “How does one put this on?” Recalling that the maid spoke the local Jiangsu-Zhejiang dialect, he switched to it: “How do you wear this?”

“I—I’ll help you…” The maid hurried to assist, eyeing him with puzzled curiosity. Not bad—good acting. As she dressed him, she called out, “Young Master-in-law is awake! Young Master-in-law is awake!” At once, more people began to gather from the various courtyards.

Robe donned, he brushed past the assembled servants and made for the exit without a backward glance.

In the end, he was still stopped and sent back…

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

Ten days later, he sat in the corridor, watching fireworks bloom in the night sky, and sighed.

Eventually, he had managed to leave. He searched the sprawling city and found no trace of modern civilization—no buildings, no people, nothing. The mountains, lakes, and marshes beyond all confirmed he was in the ancient world. No matter how powerful his financial empire had once been, he could never have created such a flawless illusion. Nor could so many actors play their roles so perfectly. This was not The Truman Show, and he was no Truman, imprisoned in a soundstage since birth.

He had more or less pieced together his current identity. His name was Ning Yi, courtesy name Liheng, presently the live-in son-in-law of the wealthy Su family of Jiangning. It was not an especially honorable status, but it could not be helped. Even as a son-in-law, the situation was complicated.

The Su family was among the most prominent merchants in Jiangning. The current head, Su Boyong, had no sons—only a daughter, Su Tan’er. Ning Yi had yet to meet his wife; on their wedding day, a batch of Su family textiles had gone awry, and Su Tan’er had gone to resolve the issue. It was clear she did not approve of the marriage and had, in effect, fled.

As for himself—Ning Yi—his grandfather and the Su family patriarch had once been close friends and had arranged a betrothal in their children’s youth. Fate saw both families produce sons, so the agreement lingered. Eventually, the Ning family fell into decline; Ning Yi was left orphaned, with little education and few prospects, a gentle scholar at best. The Su patriarch, recalling the old promise, selected him as a live-in son-in-law, perhaps out of sentiment, but more likely because Ning Yi’s meekness made him easy to control. Not everyone in the family was pleased; many had hoped that Su Tan’er would marry into another wealthy family and bring no threat to their interests. Instead, the old patriarch invoked the childhood betrothal and forced the marriage. On the wedding night, the bride fled, and the ceremony was forced to proceed nonetheless. It was rumored that a jealous young lord, also interested in Su Tan’er, had struck Ning Yi on the head, leaving him unconscious for days.

These past days, he had played the part of a man left confused by a blow to the head, meeting many members of the Su clan, including the patriarch. The situation was complex, but he could see through it at a glance. The patriarch was healthy and remained in full control. The Su family had grown wealthy over five generations, now reaching Su Tan’er and her brothers. Yet not all were equally capable; ironically, the most talented in business was the daughter, Su Tan’er.

Had her elder brothers been more competent, had Su Tan’er not been the eldest daughter, or had she lacked business acumen, matters might have turned out differently. But as things stood, the old patriarch was grooming her as his successor. Ning Yi’s selection as son-in-law was due partly to old friendship, but mostly because he was seen as someone who would not challenge the family’s power structure.

Naturally, this made him unwelcome to the other branches of the family. Previously, they had tried to marry Su Tan’er off to some rich young man, hoping she would become someone else’s problem. Instead, the patriarch brought in a son-in-law, making Ning Yi a thorn in many sides. Whether the attack on his wedding night was their doing remained uncertain.

He recalled his previous life—those endless business intrigues and power struggles. Even after building a vast commercial empire, he had been betrayed by his own brother and killed. Now, facing these petty family squabbles, he could only laugh. He had no desire to be entangled in such things again—especially when they seemed so trivial.

He resolved to learn what he could, save some silver, and leave. He had no strong feelings about being a son-in-law; such titles did not trouble him, but constant surveillance was irksome.

As for this world, it remained something of a mystery.

Jiangning was the ancient name for Nanjing during the Song dynasty, but this was not the Song. The historical details here were subtly, sometimes drastically, different. The current dynasty was called Wu, with its capital in Lin’an like the Southern Song. Some historical events had diverged as far back as the Sui; by the Tang, the discrepancies were significant. After the Tang, a period of warlord strife followed, similar to the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms, then came the Wu, with new and missing poets and figures. For example, Li Bai was still called the Immortal Poet but had died young in a sword duel in Chang’an, and Du Fu, after entering officialdom, was executed for incompetence—a fact he had only managed to find as a brief note in the histories.

What was this? Quantum mechanics? A multiverse?

The thought made him marvel.

The Wu dynasty was prosperous, much like the Song, but might yet be overrun by nomads. The history he knew was in shambles, but he could not be bothered to dwell on it. For now, he would keep a low profile, familiarize himself with this world, and then slip away from the family. Later, he could make a modest living, travel, and let future troubles be dealt with when they arose.

Lost in these musings, he heard a commotion from the courtyard. It was a festival day, and he had only just returned. Soon, the maid Xiaochan—who he had first seen upon waking—came running, her round cheeks flushed. “Young Master-in-law, Young Master-in-law, the young miss is back, the young miss is back!”

He had expected his wife would return. She could not possibly remain away forever, even if she despised the marriage. This ten-day absence was likely meant as a warning, giving him time to recognize his position. Su Tan’er was clearly a strong-willed woman, but he could not fault her for that. Xiaochan called him, then led him out. On the path from the front to the rear courtyard, he saw a group approaching—a striking figure in a red cloak at their head. That must be her.

Surrounded by family members from the second and third branches, as well as maids and stewards, the tall, slender young woman with an oval face and long black hair tied at her waist laughed and chatted as she walked. Handing her red cloak to a servant, she approached, her eyes flashing with a brief, appraising look at Ning Yi before she inclined her head. “Husband.”

Whether or not this was their first meeting, Su Tan’er’s manner was perfectly natural, as if she had not fled on their wedding day. She behaved like an old married couple, taking Ning Yi’s arm and turning to the others with a smile. “Second Brother, I’ve found the white tiger pelt you always wanted. You can’t blame me any longer…”

One after another, Ning Yi watched with interest as his wife deftly handled everyone, her words and gestures hinting at just what was needed to send each person on their way. Then, with perfect harmony, she turned to Ning Yi. “Husband, let’s go back.” With three maids in tow, she led him back to their courtyard.

She was beautiful—a delicate, gentle beauty of the Jiangnan region, yet beneath the softness was a clear strength, skillfully blended into every word and action. From an objective, professional perspective, Ning Yi could not help but admire her. But when she turned that demeanor on him, he found it rather amusing.

Along the way, they exchanged a few polite but distant pleasantries; Ning Yi responded in kind. Once back in the courtyard and out of sight, Su Tan’er let go of his arm. “Your injury is not yet healed. Rest well these days. If you need anything, just tell Chan’er…”

The courtyard consisted of two small buildings. Across the way, the bridal chamber with its red decorations was likely Su Tan’er’s original room. Ning Yi had always stayed in the other; he had never even been upstairs in hers. With a final curtsy, Su Tan’er returned to her room with her maids, and Ning Yi waved her off with a smile. He understood that, if he remained here, this would be the pattern for a long time.

Not bad. I won’t bother you, and you don’t trouble me. If I can keep out of the family’s intrigues, it hardly matters whether I stay or go. Life in the past was rather leisurely.

Meanwhile, Su Tan’er returned to her chamber.

It was not an especially unusual room—at least, not for a young woman of her status. The decorations were bright and colorful, with various trinkets. There were more books than embroidery, but nothing out of the ordinary for a maiden’s bower.

The eighteen-year-old newlywed stood by the window for a while, undoing the ribbons in her hair. She glanced at the man across the way, sitting and watching the fireworks, then sighed and closed the window. “Xing’er, come here. Juan’er, go fetch Chan’er.”

Soon after, Chan’er entered. While Xing’er busied herself arranging the new chamber’s ornaments, Su Tan’er was wiping her face with a towel. When she finished, Chan’er hurried over to take the towel and put it in the basin. “Miss.”

“How has the young master been these days?”

“He’s recovered, but everything seems strange to him. The doctor said he might have forgotten some things because of his head injury.”

“Forgotten things?”

“That’s what the doctor said.” Chan’er nodded. “He’s been wandering around. I let him go as he pleased—he doesn’t seek anyone out, just walks through the city and the outskirts, looking at everything. He really does seem to have forgotten a lot.”

“Let him be. Anything else?”

“He’s been running.”

“Running?”

“Yes, he goes out before dawn to jog by the Qinhuai River, says it’s for his health. And in his room, he does strange things…” Chan’er made a pushing and pulling motion, her little face puzzled. “He gets on the floor and pushes himself up, says it’s exercise. I think it’s odd.”

Imagining the action, the three young women exchanged confused glances before Su Tan’er shook her head. “Exercise… Let him be. Anything else?”

“Nothing else. He’s met the patriarch, the master, the young master, and the second young master—he’s very polite to everyone… Well, almost everyone. Except—oh…”

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure it wasn’t my imagination. The day he woke up and came out of his room, his gaze was… scary. Not frightening, exactly, but… but…” The maid struggled for words. “He looked so dignified—like the patriarch… but not quite. He just looked once, and I didn’t dare move. Maybe I was just imagining it…”

Her voice faded. Su Tan’er thought for a moment, then smiled. When her grandfather had proposed Ning Yi as a son-in-law, she had investigated him. The main reasons for choosing him were the childhood betrothal and his unassertive nature; with his family destitute, and only a modest education to his name, he was no threat. What dignity could there be? It must have been a misunderstanding—he’d only just woken after being struck, and his manner probably startled Chan’er. Yet…

Thinking back to their brief meeting and exchange, she sensed something different. She had expected him to be flustered when she took his arm and spoke to him, but he had remained perfectly calm.

“Well, as long as he understands. That’s enough. The patriarch has agreed to let things stay this way… so be it.” She sighed. “But you all must be respectful to the young master. Whatever happens between us, you must not gossip. As long as he does nothing to harm the Su family, he is still my husband. Do you understand?”

Sometimes, one dreams of a perfect future. But in the end, one must accept one’s fate—especially as a woman. In this, she was already far more fortunate than most.

She would accept her fate… for now.