Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Night of Whirling Shadows and Dancers (Part Three)

Flames from the lanterns burned in clusters above the street. Beneath Old Ma’s corpse, blood had already pooled into a shallow lake. The ground was littered with blood, fallen bodies, and scattered debris, a scene of utter chaos. When the black-clad woman fled toward the neighboring street, the few constables wielding blades did not dare block her path in the slightest.

Ning Yi started forward, intending to follow her discreetly, only to realize that Xiao Chan was clinging tightly to him. In truth, the two were little more than a head apart in height. But as Xiao Chan curled herself by his side, she seemed smaller still. When Ning Yi looked down, she gazed up at him, her little face scrunched with worry. She’d been calling for him, pulling at him for ages, nearly on the verge of tears. When their eyes met, her mouth and eyes suddenly went round in surprise, and for a second, she looked adorably stunned before dropping her gaze in embarrassment.

Ning Yi smirked, then patted her shoulder. “Come on, let's go.”

Xiao Chan quickly let go. Ning Yi walked toward the side street, and after a few steps, Xiao Chan regained her senses and shook her head. “Wait, where are you going, Young Master?”

“To see what's happening…”

“No!” Xiao Chan suddenly jumped up, grabbing the hem of Ning Yi’s robe. “Don’t, Young Master. That lady thief is too dangerous. Let’s just go eat. The young miss is still waiting for us…”

“It’s fine, I’ll just watch from a distance—”

“No! The thief lady has already escaped…”

“It’s not that easy… Well, if she really has escaped, I won’t see anything anyway…”

With a thud, Xiao Chan hugged Ning Yi from behind, her arms gripping him tight. The five-spiced beans in her hands spilled all over him as she shook her head desperately, face pressed against his back. “No, Young Master, you mustn’t go…”

Ning Yi stood there, momentarily speechless, then looked around. “Xiao Chan, isn’t this a bit improper, hugging me like this in public?”

A moment ago, everyone’s attention had been on the fight, so few noticed as Ning Yi shielded her. Now, as Ning Yi spoke, Xiao Chan came to her senses, stiffened, and then, as if scorched, let go, though she still clung tightly to his robe, her cheeks flushed. Ning Yi chuckled, rubbing her head and turning her hair into a mess. Her headscarf slipped off, leaving half her hair tumbling down in a ponytail. Xiao Chan pouted, but Ning Yi stepped forward. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I just want to see what really happened.”

“Young Master… let’s not go…”

At that moment, more soldiers in blue short tunics from the Martial Valor Army rushed down the street. The little maid still held onto Ning Yi’s robe, following anxiously, looking about to cry, her headscarf now completely off. She tried to fix it but couldn’t, making her look all the more endearing.

That black-clad woman, covered in blood from the fight, would certainly cause panic if she ran through the streets. Yet, the chaos only lasted through the next street. By the time Ning Yi and Xiao Chan rounded the corner, the panic had faded—the assassin had likely slipped into a nearby shop or residence, or quickly found a disguise. Passing a teahouse, they could hear people discussing the recent fight on Vermilion Bird Avenue.

“…I heard the female assassin tried to kill Captain Song Xian of the Martial Valor Army at Flying Swallow Pavilion. She didn’t succeed, but killed more than a dozen people before fleeing. Blood everywhere! There was a fight on Vermilion Bird Avenue, but now she’s vanished. With skills like that, how could they possibly catch her…”

The Martial Valor Army, stationed around Jiangning, did not have the best reputation. Ordinary folk didn’t really know who Captain Song Xian was, but as with most officials, few believed them to be good men, and so the news was greeted with satisfaction by the townspeople. Still, to say such a skilled outlaw could never be caught wasn’t quite true. Among the crowd, one could spot the blue-uniformed soldiers moving about—these were the army’s elite, few in number but still searching for the assassin. Ning Yi occasionally watched their search patterns and followed along idly.

Now that the danger had passed, Xiao Chan relaxed, trailing beside Ning Yi, sometimes jogging to keep up, fussing with her loose hair, and sulking, “You won’t find her, Young Master, you won’t find her…”

The attempted assassination at Flying Swallow Pavilion and the fight on Vermilion Bird Avenue were but minor ripples in the night’s festivities, spreading only within a limited circle. Even with the Martial Valor Army’s influence, it would hardly do to lock down the city or block the streets on the Lantern Festival. In an era when news traveled only by word of mouth, most people simply went on with their celebrations.

Just a street away from Black Robe Lane stood Old Acquaintance Tower, one of Jiangning’s grandest restaurants, owned by the city’s wealthiest family, the Pu clan. The building, five stories tall and vast in size, was more than just a restaurant; almost any form of entertainment could be found within. Since the Pu family had cultivated scholarly pursuits, part of their business now carried a refined literary air, and this building was their crowning achievement.

The entire restaurant was arranged in a square with a spacious central courtyard, eliminating any issues with lighting. Artificial hills, pavilions, rare trees, and flowers were all exquisitely arranged within. If needed, these decorations could be moved to set up a temporary stage. Outside, the grounds were enclosed by walls and landscaped with rooms and greenery, offering a delightful view from above. Inside, the halls brimmed with calligraphy, paintings, precious screens, porcelain, lacquerware, and other elegant items.

The Pu family spared no expense on this building, and its reputation reflected that investment. The wealthy, the well-born, and those who fancied themselves cultured all took pride in holding banquets here. Even high officials like the magistrate would choose it for entertaining guests outside their own residences. Of course, money was the key—impoverished scholars could only attend if invited. The tower was truly the ideal fusion of wealth and culture.

Tonight, the Pu family hosted a gathering of many talented scholars. The weather was still cold and the wind on the river too strong for a floating boat party, so this feast was much like another poetry gathering in the Pu Garden. Led by Pu Yangyi, the family invited many guests according to the standards of their famous poetry gatherings. This time, few had brought their families, but the renowned courtesan Qilan, one of the Four Beauties of Qinhuai, was present to keep them company. In recent years, Qilan had become something of a Pu family emblem.

The atmosphere was more relaxed than at the mid-autumn Pu Garden poetry gathering, yet the poetic spirit ran high. Besides those already connected to the Pu family and the likes of Xue Jin, tonight another well-known figure attended. Among the younger generation in Jiangning, he was as famous as the upright and prudent Cao Guan, though his temperament was free-spirited and his poetry imaginative and bold, reminiscent of the Tang dynasty’s golden age—this was Li Pin, who had joined the Lichuan Poetry Gathering at Mid-Autumn.

Li Pin’s reputation exceeded that of most the Pu family could summon, but among young men, such differences were hard to measure. Some might dismiss the Pu family’s events as tainted by wealth, ranking them below the Stillwater and Lichuan gatherings. Many wondered why Li Pin would attend, but the truth was, it wasn’t the Pu family’s wealth that drew him, but the fact that before the New Year he’d heard Ning Yi tell stories at Yushan Academy, where he met Su Chonghua. No one had expected Su’s influence would be enough to bring Li Pin here on the Lantern Festival, and the Pu family took great pride in it.

At first, the other scholars feared Li Pin would steal the spotlight, but he proved modest, composing poems casually—excellent ones, but not so dazzling as to overshadow others. With his easy manner, he put others at ease, making them feel more like friends than rivals, sharing honor together. Qilan, with her consummate social skills, did not favor Li Pin over the others; indeed, she kept a polite distance, skillfully maintaining the lively, harmonious atmosphere.

Poems from the Lichuan gathering and other events continued to circulate for everyone’s appreciation. The company here, though perhaps not matching Lichuan’s brilliance, was nonetheless inspired. Li Pin’s occasional jokes at the expense of the Lichuan scholars helped everyone feel they did not pale by comparison. The banquet was lively—wine flowed, riddles were played, poetry was recited, and Qilan performed music and dance. As the night neared its end, Pu Yangyi went over to speak with Li Pin, Su Chonghua, and the newly arrived Xue Jin.

Soon, the conversation turned to last year’s “Tune to Water Melody,” and then to Ning Yi. Pu Yangyi brought up the topic casually, though in truth he had long wanted to invite Ning Yi to such gatherings to add luster to the proceedings. Su Chonghua spoke with a smile about Ning Yi’s activities with the Su family, mentioning how Song Mao had recently praised him. In the past, Su had been indifferent toward Ning Yi, but now he was wary, fearing for his own reputation as head of Yushan Academy. After all, his years of effort had yielded little, but as soon as Ning Yi arrived, he produced a flock of talented students—an implicit rebuke. Seeing the patriarch’s esteem for Ning Yi only heightened his concern. Outwardly, however, he maintained the air of discussing a promising junior, sharing in the honor.

“That can’t be right, I don’t believe it,” Xue Jin said, no longer masking the Xue family’s traditional rivalry with the Su family. “Before the New Year, I heard that ‘Tune to Water Melody’ was something he heard a Taoist priest recite. Hmph—he just claimed it as his own…”

“Haha, Xue, you’re back to that old story again,” another voice interjected. This was Wu Qihao, second son of the Wu family, who managed one of the three major cloth firms in Jiangning. The Wu family got along well with both the Xue and Su families. When Su Tan’er had visited the Wu family over the New Year, Ning Yi had briefly met Wu Qihao. Now, smiling, he said, “That tale about the Taoist—who really believes it?”

Pu Yangyi laughed, “I don’t believe it either. But I’ve long admired Brother Liheng. Headmaster Su, you must introduce us next time.”

The conversation soon drifted from Ning Yi, and the company enjoyed another round of laughter and Qilan’s performance. After a while, Wu Qihao went to the window, peered outside, and then turned back with a smile. “Brother Pu, what a coincidence! The very man we were just discussing seems to be wandering below. Headmaster Su, Brother Li, Brother Xue, I’ve met Liheng only briefly before and can’t be certain—why don’t you all come take a look?”

His words carried across half the hall, sparking the interest of many guests. “Brother Wu, who is this person you find so interesting?”

“Liheng? Could it be…”

In no time, talk of this spread through the entire second-floor banquet hall. By the inner windows, Wu Qihao and several others peered down and pointed. “Look—surely that’s him? And isn’t the girl beside him Xiao Chan, the maid who serves Tan’er?”

Down in the courtyard, beside the artificial hill and lanterns, Ning Yi and Xiao Chan strolled about, looking rather bored, gazing at the scene around them…

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