Chapter Forty-Three: The Wager

After the Lantern Festival, the intense rounds of visits and social obligations dwindled, and the world around gradually emerged from the fervent atmosphere of the New Year, returning to the rhythms of ordinary life. The spread of the poem “Green Jade Table” was impossible to measure; suffice to say that after a few days, people in teahouses and taverns were again discussing it. Regarding Ning Yi, there was a growing number of debates affirming his literary talent and speculating on the reasons for his becoming a son-in-law. By now, few still accused him of plagiarism; some even bestowed upon him the title of “Jiangning’s foremost scholar.” Naturally, many still remarked on his eccentric temperament, his arrogance, and the shame of wasted talent—a label that, when distilled, became that of a “mad scholar.”

Taking an unorthodox path could resolve issues but inevitably left side effects; yet, such consequences were precisely what Ning Yi anticipated. The probing of others would quiet down, allowing him to teach in peace and, when free, dabble in matters of chemistry. Recently, he had even ordered a batch of porcelain bottles to use as test tubes for reviewing simple reactions.

Of more interest was the morning of the sixteenth, when he went out for his usual run and found Nie Yunzhu waiting for him at the entrance of the small building. Upon seeing him, she gathered her sleeves gracefully and saluted, “Greetings, Great Scholar Ning.” The scene carried a certain charm of scholar and maiden. Ning Yi nodded. “Hello, young lady.” Instantly, Nie Yunzhu blushed, stepped back, her face aflame, her wide eyes darting from Ning Yi to elsewhere, as if unable to find a place to settle.

“Ning, Young Master Ning, how can you say such things…”

“Oh? You just greeted me as Great Scholar Ning—should I not reply in kind?”

“How could you! Young Master Ning should have said…should have said…” She stood there, at a loss, pondering for a long while before suddenly bursting into laughter. “In any case, it was much too forward…”

After this small episode, Nie Yunzhu no longer brought up his reputation as a great scholar and was able to converse with him as before. Naturally, she was still keenly interested in the poetry gathering from the previous night, asking about everyone’s behavior and, upon learning that Qilan was present, inquired with a smile about her reaction. “It’s said Miss Qilan excels at poetry—was she captivated by your talent, Young Master Ning?”

“She probably was. With talent as high as several stories, what else could she do but be impressed, don’t you think?” Ning Yi, preoccupied with observing the female assassin, had little idea of Qilan’s reaction and simply replied offhand. Nie Yunzhu laughed, “Your words ring true, sir.”

“I think so too…” Ning Yi rose with a smile. “I’ll be off—still have more to run.”

“Until tomorrow.”

“See you then.”

The winter dawned late; the sky was still a misty gray, and the little building behind them glimmered with faint lamplight. Nie Yunzhu stood before the building, watching him leave, her eyes bright with laughter. The air was still cold. When Ning Yi’s figure was finally lost in the blue-gray mist, she looked up at the sky, smiled, exhaled a white breath, rubbed her hands together, and turned back up the steps.

She knew—today would be a good day.

A few days later, Ning Yi ran into Kang Xian on the street. The old man was riding in a grand sedan chair, eight bearers and four attendants, evidently bound for some important place. Spotting Ning Yi, the procession halted, and Kang Xian called him over, instructing the sedan to follow behind. “You degenerate scholar!”

“Happy New Year, Elder Kang. What have I done now to offend heaven and reason?”

“Searching for him among the crowd a thousand times, suddenly turning to find him where the lanterns are dim. A fine verse, but employed at the wrong occasion. One must always leave some room in all things. The reputation of mad scholar and recluse—at your age, even if you have such aspirations, you ought not display them so openly.”

They walked along the snow-lined street. Kang Xian’s concerns were as before, but this time he spoke without the usual severity. Ning Yi smiled. “Is that all?”

“Of course not! Today is already the nineteenth day of the first month, and you have yet to visit my residence since the new year. I am most displeased—the consequences are grave… By the way, before the new year I passed by here and saw your confidante’s food stall at the street corner. Has it moved, or has it not reopened yet?”

Kang Xian pointed ahead. Ning Yi shook his head. “Elderly people should speak responsibly—don’t be so ambiguous. There weren’t many customers before the new year, so the stall was packed up. It should reopen in a few days, selling a new batch of preserved eggs. Why do you ask?”

“It’s about those preserved eggs of yours. Strange taste, but passable, and most importantly, they’re attractive on the table. During recent banquets, I thought they would make a pleasing addition, even just for show. Once Miss Nie sets up her stall again, have her bring some to my residence.”

Ning Yi nodded. “According to each person’s preference, they can be served with vinegar or sauce. Let your cook experiment, but don’t eat too many at once—it may upset the stomach.”

“Your preserved eggs aren’t that delicious—I wouldn’t overindulge,” Kang Xian replied with a laugh, patting Ning Yi’s shoulder. “I know your family circumstances are complicated, but there’s no need to worry too much. Next year, bring your wife for a visit. With your talent, you don’t need my help, but I am genuinely curious—what kind of woman could make you willingly become a son-in-law? Ha!”

By the end of the first month, the weather was gradually warming. Piles of snow melted into rivulets that joined the Qinhuai River. The feeling of spring—warblers flying, grass growing—drew closer. Soon, Yushan Academy opened for the new term, and on the first day, Ning Yi encountered an unexpected person.

“Brother Ning, from now on we are colleagues, teaching together at the academy. I have much to learn and must rely on your guidance.”

Li Pin, courtesy name Deshin, was widely regarded in Jiangning as a scholar on par with Cao Guan. Cao was known for his steadiness, Li for his free spirit, so people usually ranked Cao first. That someone like Li Pin would come to teach at Yushan Academy was bewildering. Ning Yi greeted him but paid little further attention. Later, when Su Chonghua came to speak with him, he learned that Li Pin had discussed this with Su Chonghua the previous year.

“Perhaps he was impressed by your talent and wanted to come learn more. He seems quite sincere.” After the Lantern Festival, Su Tan’er had invited Su Chonghua to dinner, hinting at Ning Yi’s lack of interest in the academy. As a result, Su Chonghua’s attitude toward Ning Yi had softened again.

Li Pin was five years older than Ning Yi and was already a presented scholar, though he had not yet secured an official post. He hadn’t gone to the capital to seek one, but lingered in Jiangning, building his reputation—a peculiar man, though even if he tried, getting an official post without connections was no easy feat. He was modest and handsome, already married, yet still popular among women. His fame as a scholar was particularly lethal; in the past, Su Tan’er likely regarded Li Pin as an idol, but now, speaking of him at home, she merely smiled, “He must have been captivated by my husband’s elegance.”

Yet what drew Li Pin may not have been literary talent alone—though those two poems played a part. In Ning Yi’s view, Li Pin seemed more intrigued by the stories he told. Li Pin came to the academy not to teach poetry, but other subjects, mostly in the afternoons, while in the mornings he would sit in on Ning Yi’s classes, making the younger students rather nervous at first.

Occasionally, Li Pin would question some of Ning Yi’s remarks—points which, to Ning Yi, were key insights: general rules of society, methods for investigating the nature of things, strict mechanical causality. These were things Ning Yi would sometimes mention to the children, though always with restraint, for if he spoke too plainly, it would become modern theory, heretical and contrarian. When Li Pin asked, Ning Yi would reply a little more, though Li Pin might understand; the children were usually baffled.

Li Pin seemed to realize that Ning Yi would not discuss these matters in depth, so he only occasionally raised questions in class and otherwise exchanged a few words of greeting when they met.

By February, Nie Yunzhu’s stall was back in business, selling pancakes and preserved eggs, though the eggs were rather expensive and sales were slow, aside from a batch sent to Kang Xian—a small income. One day at the Qin residence, Kang Xian teased him about it.

“Your preserved eggs sell at twenty coins apiece! Even salted eggs fetch only ten, and you’re hawking them from a pancake stall. Think: Miss Nie’s pancakes are only two coins—a customer buying pancakes won’t buy expensive eggs, and those who might snack on preserved eggs don’t eat pancakes. This combination really is nonsense.”

“Heh, new products mustn’t be sold cheap, or the price will never go up. If I were running things, I might try for fifty coins an egg. She isn’t aiming for a big profit, so she does as she pleases.”

“Haha, insatiable! Fifty coins an egg—what do you think you’ve got, a hen laying golden eggs? You can hardly sell them at twenty now… But don’t worry, when I host guests, I’ll advertise for you. At twenty coins, there are still plenty who can afford a taste. Remember to thank me—you’ll owe me a favor.”

Kang Xian was clearly pleased, though he didn’t expect anything in return. Old Qin echoed him. Ning Yi, indifferent to such “favors,” shrugged, “If Elder Kang helps, I’m grateful, but even without your help, give me a month and I’ll build the business—selling them at twenty coins, you’ll see.”

“Oh? Truly?”

“If salted eggs can sell for ten, what’s hard about selling preserved eggs for twenty? It’s just that few people know of them yet…” Ning Yi shrugged. “What can I say? I’m bored lately…”

To be continued—perhaps another chapter will come tonight, or by morning. No need to wait up.