Chapter 23: Sharp Tongue

From the beginning of the eleventh lunar month, the chill settled over Jiangning. Around the eighth or ninth, snow began to fall from the sky, thick as goose feathers, cloaking the ancient city in a silent, white mantle. The snow wasn’t yet deep enough to trap people indoors, but as was customary, once it began, it would likely linger until spring. For two or three months, it would fall intermittently, making life especially hard for the poor. In some places, people lacked even proper winter clothing; when the snow sealed the mountains, they could only wrap themselves in quilts and huddle on their heated beds. For most in these times, winter was not a season of comfort.

Jiangning, being a large and prosperous city, fared somewhat better. Its thriving commerce meant that many families lived in relative ease. In the first days of snow, the academy remained open, though students from outside the city stopped attending—a common occurrence. The teacher had a small brazier at hand, while the students relied on tightly closed doors and windows to block the wind. Fortunately, they were all young and robust, undaunted by the cold. The two girl students each had a lovely hand warmer nestled in their arms. Their families had already forbidden them from attending classes in such weather, but they refused to miss the stories Ning Yi told, and so still came.

Old Qin's chess stall, naturally, was put away as soon as the weather turned cold. Ning Yi visited him at home a few times, though not too frequently. For the old man, a visitor who could carry on a conversation was always a welcome thing. One time, Kang Xian also dropped by, bringing some ancient paintings for Qin to appraise and affix his seal.

After the heavy snow, Ning Yi built a snowman in the Su family courtyard. At night, the estate was at its most enchanting. From the second floor, the scattered lights glowing among the courtyards and houses shimmered with warmth and beauty, their classical charm reminiscent of a scene steeped in the hues of an exquisite oil painting. If only he had a camera, Ning Yi thought, he would have liked to capture it from above for a keepsake. But the wind was strong up there, and after a while, Xiao Chan would come to fetch him back inside.

On such nights, it was far more pleasant to sit by the fire in the downstairs parlor, chatting idly, playing chess, reading, while Su Tan’er and her maids selected fabrics and did embroidery. Ning Yi had grown quite close to Su Tan’er and her household. They often played Five-in-a-Row together, while the gossip-loving Xing’er shared tales from within the grand house. Sometimes, the younger maids would debate the stories Ning Yi told: who was fiercer in battle, the fox spirit or the great general? Did General Xiahou, who loved eating eyes, have a beard? Were those slain enchantresses truly innocent? The topics were endless, and whenever they argued, they would run to Ning Yi for a ruling.

Su Tan’er herself grew fond of the simple rules of Five-in-a-Row. Every few days, she would check the accounts, sitting quietly with her abacus, sometimes aided by the three little maids. When playing chess with Ning Yi, she would chat idly about the amusing affairs of the extended family, occasionally revealing the tangled relationships between relatives.

Sometimes, relatives would visit at night. After the snow, Ning Yi’s students from the academy would occasionally come by to pay their respects, eager for more stories. Even Su Tan’er liked to listen: she would sit with her embroidery, enjoying the tales as she worked.

Every so often, some siblings or cousins would arrive. The younger ones called Su Tan’er “Second Sister,” mostly when they wanted something but lacked the funds, coming to her with complaints to coax a few coins. Su Tan’er treated them all kindly. They knew that as long as they didn’t overreach, she would usually oblige; if they asked for a hundred strings of cash, she’d give sixty or eighty, though not without a round of earnest advice and admonishment. With what they received, they could easily enjoy several nights of fine wine and song along the Qinhuai River.

They always came with tales of ambition, but even a relative stranger like Ning Yi could see through the pretense. Su Tan’er, however, was endlessly patient. Whatever excuse they offered, she always acted as if she believed them, offering sincere advice, urging them not to squander their money. If the visitor was an elder brother, she would take a demure posture, the very image of a gentle younger sister, occasionally teasing, “When will that girl from the Spring Breeze Courtyard finally become my sister-in-law?” She was kindness itself, and after the visitors left, she would put away the box of silver notes, her smile still pure and good-natured. Then she would share more amusing anecdotes about her cousins with Ning Yi, always speaking well of them, her words filled with pride and genuine affection.

Ning Yi found these scenes entertaining. There was real family affection, no doubt, but now he understood why people said the Su family’s third generation lacked talent. Su Tan’er’s marriage had been delayed a few years—at nineteen, she was already considered an old maid. Yet, to Ning Yi’s eyes, she was still a young woman, graceful and slim, her speech and smile tinged with youthful innocence. Yet in all her dealings, she showed remarkable poise and discernment.

To be able to gather together every day, playing chess, sharing stories, and chatting about daily life, made the atmosphere between Ning Yi and Su Tan’er far more natural than the simple formality of sharing meals. Before long, Su Tan’er began inviting Ning Yi to accompany her on visits to important households.

The Su family’s textile business was vast, with many dependent merchants and business partners, some reliable, some not. When Su Tan’er went out to discuss business, it was always better to have a man accompany her. In truth, these pre-New Year visits were not strictly necessary, but come the New Year, visiting every household together would become very important. Su Tan’er’s invitations now were meant to help Ning Yi grow familiar with these matters. Within a few days, she was pleased to discover that, at the very least, Ning Yi made an excellent figurehead.

Ning Yi had little interest in business dealings. When others talked shop, he would simply sip tea, study the calligraphy and paintings, and smile vacantly. If someone tried to strike up a conversation, he would respond with vague pleasantries, playing the part of the courteous bookworm. All Su Tan’er required was that he handle social niceties naturally, without giving offense. These people all did business with the Su family and knew of Ning Yi’s status as a son-in-law; none would make things difficult for him. Some, having heard rumors of his talents, would chat about poetry and literature, but these were not serious tests, and Ning Yi handled them with ease.

Whichever family or household was to be visited, Su Tan’er would, the day before or on the road, cheerfully brief Ning Yi on their background: some were old business mentors, some current partners, others the sort who bent whichever way the wind blew. In these outings, she and Ning Yi got along exceedingly well. After each visit, she would laugh and share the results with him, sometimes joking or grumbling, “That sly old fox never gives anything away.”

Most of these trips were tedious affairs, but on occasion, a minor incident would break the monotony—such as the visit on the fourteenth of the eleventh month, when Ning Yi felt himself bored nearly to death.

...

“The He brothers’ silk business is quite substantial,” Su Tan’er said in the carriage, turning a string of beads in her hand. “They’re capable men, but rather fickle. After finishing the last deal we discussed, I hear they’ve already struck a new partnership with the Xue family. Today’s visit is really just a formality.”

Ning Yi nodded. “So we just go through the motions?”

She smiled, fastening the beads around her wrist and straightening her hair. “Exactly, my dear. Once you’ve done your part, do you have other plans this afternoon?”

“I thought I’d browse the bookshops in the east of the city, see if I can find a Tang dynasty classic.”

“I’ll finish my business early, and join you.”

“It’s a date.”

With no real business to be done, the visit was simply to maintain goodwill. But if, during such a polite exchange, a buzzing fly kept circling, it could spoil the mood. That afternoon, Su Tan’er and Ning Yi were not the only guests at the He family manor; representatives from two other merchant families were also present. The elder He brother, He Jun, whom Su Tan’er respectfully called “uncle,” received them all in a side hall overlooking the snow-draped gardens. Several large braziers kept the room cozy, and the view outside was elegant. Accompanying them was He Jun’s son, He Tingguang.

The He family’s affairs were handled by two brothers: He Jun and the more business-savvy He Feng. Su Tan’er was only there to pay her respects. After a while, she and her maids joined the others for a stroll in the snowy gardens, where they encountered He Feng. From the side hall, they could be seen chatting in the distance. With fewer people left behind, He Tingguang began to pester Ning Yi about his literary talents, clearly skeptical and eager to test him. Unfortunately, He Tingguang’s own abilities were lacking; after a few perfunctory answers from Ning Yi, he continued prattling on, dropping hints about his friendship with the renowned scholar Xue Jin, and quoting Xue’s recent poetry for Ning Yi’s opinion.

This fellow is a fool, Ning Yi thought, bored out of his mind. He Jun, perhaps sensing his son’s lackluster conversation, tried to liven things up. Ning Yi obliged: “Tan’er mentioned the He family’s silk business is most impressive, largely based around Shouzhou, yes?”

He Jun frowned, but He Tingguang chuckled. “Just to let you know, our main operations are actually in Luzhou and Chaohu. Should you ever travel, don’t get lost!”

Ning Yi was momentarily taken aback, then nodded. “Ah, I see... Luzhou and Shouzhou aren’t far apart. If the raw silk is transported there…”

He Jun’s frown deepened. “Why did you mention Shouzhou?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Doesn’t the Xue family have a workshop there, under Manager Yan? I thought I heard something about that—so I assumed your business was also in Shouzhou.”

He Tingguang burst out laughing. “You really don’t know, do you? Manager Yan is in charge of Luzhou, as everyone here can attest. Ask any of these gentlemen if you doubt me.” The others laughed along, confirming his words. Ning Yi smiled and nodded. “I don’t know much—I just catch bits of talk here and there. Mixed things up, it seems…”

Everyone knew he was a son-in-law, so no one found his confusion strange. Only He Jun spoke with gravity, “May I ask where you heard these bits of information?”

Seeing the seriousness in He Jun’s expression, Ning Yi hesitated, then shook his head in confusion. “Just overheard some idle chatter, really… I’m not clear on the details. Sorry to make a fool of myself. Tan’er knows business much better than I do. I barely know anything about the Xue family, just mixed up Luzhou and Shouzhou, that’s all…”

After this exchange, the atmosphere grew subtly strange. He Jun seemed genuinely troubled and called over a steward to give some instructions. Ning Yi frowned: Could my idle words have struck a real nerve?

These days, though Ning Yi had little interest in business, by tagging along with Su Tan’er he’d slowly pieced together a rough picture—who dealt in what, the general workings of the trade. Whether he paid attention or not, the fragments coalesced in his mind. Mentioning Shouzhou was simply a way to steer the conversation away from He Tingguang, but from what he’d overheard, he vaguely sensed that the Xue family’s business was shifting focus from Luzhou to Shouzhou, and that a rival silk merchant in Shouzhou, possibly hostile to the He family, might soon get involved. These were only vague impressions, not certainties—he simply had a knack for sensing such undercurrents. Yet, it seemed he had stumbled onto something important.

So, not long after, as Ning Yi and Su Tan’er were preparing to leave, He Feng hurried over, exchanged a meaningful glance with He Jun, and addressed Su Tan’er with grave courtesy. “Cousin, please wait. Regarding next spring’s silk, has the Su family finalized its plans for the nearby regions? If you have time today, I have a proposal involving spring silkworms that I would like to discuss with you…”

Su Tan’er turned, puzzled, unable to fathom the sudden shift in attitude. With his back to them, Ning Yi rolled his eyes.

“Damn it… loose lips again…”