Since Nie Yunzhu and her servant Hutao left Golden Wind Tower two years ago, though they lived together like sisters with both trying to take on whatever work they could, ultimately mistress and servant were still mistress and servant. Most housework was still handled by Hutao, with Nie Yunzhu only doing simple things. She embroidered beautiful brocades daily, occasionally also making shoe soles and handkerchiefs, going to Golden Wind Tower every few days to teach music—thus maintaining their household. Of course, since her embroidery took the boutique route for personal enjoyment, the quality was good but required much effort and cost, ultimately not earning much.

Since Hutao fell seriously ill last month, Nie Yunzhu inevitably had to take on these tasks. She could make simple meals and do laundry—though inexperienced, perhaps not washing as cleanly as Hutao—but a few days before Mid-Autumn when she bought that old hen, wanting to stew it to nourish Hutao's health, she ended up making a series of blunders.

She caught the hen but didn't dare kill it, then let it escape, and chasing it, she jumped into the river, lost her kitchen knife, and even implicated a kind passerby who tried to help. After he saved her, when she woke up her first reaction was to slap him. Then the next day when fishing for the knife he saw her again and helped her kill the chicken...

Normally she was a composed and calm woman, and after many years in pleasure quarters, she'd seen many people and cared greatly about her image. Who knew this time someone would see nothing but her embarrassing moments? Thinking about it felt mortifying. A few days ago she'd fallen ill along with Hutao—fortunately the cold wasn't severe, but she only recovered after Mid-Autumn. Thinking back, she hadn't even asked that benefactor's name—Huyan Leifeng... whether Huyan Leifeng was even correct she didn't know. Who'd have thought she'd encounter him again here today?

Nie Yunzhu had seen many people before—this young man appeared to be in his early twenties, looking scholarly, but thinking back afterward, his behavior had quite a few differences from others. His speech and actions were all like this—appearing indifferent and casual. From when he saved her and her slapping him afterward, to later helping her kill the chicken then leaving after talking—all like this—and when Nie Yunzhu followed him now, seeing he indeed seemed to want to buy charcoal, after he looked at the charcoal and exchanged a few words with the owner, the situation became somewhat different.

It was already late autumn approaching winter, and most households needed to buy charcoal, naturally there were places selling it loose, but this shop actually bagged the charcoal to sell by the bag. After the man spoke with the shopkeeper, he poured a large bag of charcoal on the ground, took a cloth bag, and squatted there selecting charcoal sticks one by one. Not many met his standards—often he had to draw on the ground a few times before throwing one into the bag, and the shopkeeper wasn't angry, just asked a few curious questions before going about his business.

After watching briefly, Nie Yunzhu approached, stopping at his side and rear, bending down: "Benefactor?"

"Mm?" The man turned to look at her, recognizing her. "Oh, it's you. What a coincidence." His hands continued focusing on selecting charcoal.

This reaction and speech were both somewhat strange, as Confucian culture had now developed to its peak, with various etiquette and responses quite complex and particular. If an ordinary man saw a woman approach, he'd inevitably stand straight, bow, and treat her courteously—this refined atmosphere was already society's habit. However, such casual speech as "Oh, it's you. What a coincidence"—Nie Yunzhu encountered for the first time, yet it felt natural, and she paused slightly, blinked, then gathered her skirts and squatted beside him.

"Benefactor..."

"Heh, just killing a chicken, it's nothing—no need to call me benefactor." The man smiled and waved, speaking casually.

"Could it be Benefactor only remembers killing the chicken but not saving this humble woman from the river?"

"Ah..."

He paused, only then realizing, and Nie Yunzhu couldn't help laughing. The two now squatted side by side before that pile of charcoal, and Nie Yunzhu tilted her head looking at him: "This humble woman's name is Nie Yunzhu." Waiting briefly to ensure he could remember this name, she then said: "Is Benefactor's name Huyan Leifeng?"

"Hu-Huyan Leifeng..."

For a moment, the man's expression seemed to twitch slightly, very complex, before he laughed: "Hehe, Ning Yi." He said, "Ning Yi, Ning Liheng."

Hearing this name, Nie Yunzhu also froze.

"Water Melody Prelude..."

"That person is called Ning Yi, courtesy name Liheng..."

"The Su family's live-in son-in-law..."

"Might be someone seeking fame by buying poems..."

The amazement from first seeing that poem at Golden Wind Tower still lingered in her mind as those girls' discussions suddenly flashed past. Ning Yi, Ning Liheng—originally she'd simply appreciated the verses, not yet having time to digest the poem's own charm, with no thoughts of gossiping about it. So that name meant nothing to her—she hadn't even thought about it, but now it struck her mind.

She was stunned for a while before reacting: "Young Master Ning... what use do you have for buying this charcoal?"

"Mm, for writing," Ning Yi tapped the wooden board on the ground coated with white paint, then took a piece of fine charcoal powder and wrote the character "Nie" on the ground. He probably wanted to casually write out the name "Nie Yunzhu" he'd just heard, but paused at the last stroke of "Nie," likely thinking writing her name like this was somewhat impolite, so he shifted slightly and wrote "Ning Yi" instead.

The calligraphy followed regular script style, bold and powerful, and after the last stroke, the charcoal broke. Nie Yunzhu herself had accomplishments in calligraphy, and weighing it slightly in her mind—holding charcoal differed from holding a brush. If she took charcoal to write, the characters would definitely be far inferior, so that he could casually write like this with charcoal meant his understanding of calligraphy had probably already established its own school.

These days poetry and calligraphy were one family, and those with profound accomplishments in calligraphy were mostly called great Confucian masters, not far off. Someone who could write such characters writing that Water Melody Prelude seemed nothing suspicious, and Nie Yunzhu thought rumors truly couldn't be trusted. How could she know Ning Yi's brush calligraphy was merely passable, while using chalk and pens to write various artistic fonts was what he'd practiced? Later with status and position, supported by bearing, his written characters gained even more momentum. Looking at those two characters now, he felt slight regression but could still use them to impress people.

Practicing calligraphy wasn't achieved overnight—he couldn't let those students who practiced brush calligraphy all day think their teacher's writing was ugly...

"Taking it to the classroom, using this whiteboard to write—written words can be erased, while with sand tables, outlines aren't clear enough, constantly needing sweeping back and forth. And sand tables are flat—students get tired looking, but this can hang vertically."

"Classroom... academy? Is Young Master Ning a teacher at an academy?"

"Mm, a small academy, teaching several students dumb enough to fly to heaven and burrow underground¹to read and write..."

"Heh... Young Master Ning, is this one good?"

In pleasure quarters they all emphasized the social art of naturally getting along with people, and with preparation, Nie Yunzhu was confident she could converse naturally with anyone without feeling awkward. This time she also spoke naturally, yet this naturalness wasn't because of herself—the feeling was rather due to the other party's attitude. The two selected those charcoal pieces, soon filling that small cloth bag, their hands already blackened. When paying, Ning Yi paid over ten extra wen for this small bag of charcoal.

"The shopkeeper is quite unreasonable, charging over ten extra wen for these charcoal pieces." Outside the door, Nie Yunzhu said.

"Heh, disturbing others isn't good either—probably he only let me pick and choose like this after hearing I'd use them at the academy. A teacher's status is still quite useful."

"If Young Master buys again, you might as well buy several bags home to select. Since the household needs them anyway, you could save this money."

"Haha, next time I won't come select. I'll have those students bring suitable ones to the academy themselves."

Before long, the two washed their hands clean by the Qinhuai River—one carried the board and charcoal, one carried cloth and medicine bundles, walking forward one after the other. Nie Yunzhu again mentioned falling in the river and being saved by him, but Ning Yi just waved his hand, saying it wasn't important, lightly brushing it aside.

The two occasionally exchanged a few words, the atmosphere naturally somewhat strange, and after walking a stretch, Nie Yunzhu walking a step behind thought of that Water Melody Prelude's artistic conception, suddenly feeling perhaps only such a free and composed person could write such poetry.

Walking quite a distance to a river bend, Ning Yi finally stopped to bid farewell—not far away the riverbank's waves were tranquil, willows verdantly green. A teahouse and several small shops sat there, and beside the teahouse was a small chess stand where two old men were leisurely playing. One dressed entirely in silk brocades, quite distinguished.

She bowed in farewell, stopping briefly after speaking a few words before walking forward, while he also walked not far ahead, heading toward that teahouse chess stand. The two old men seemed to know him, smiling as they said something, and she vaguely heard his voice.

"...These past few days you two have caused me such misery... This morning, that Yu Zixing actually came looking for me..."

She walked past, and looking back one last time, the man was sitting there watching chess, holding a cup of tea he gently sipped. There wasn't much intersection between them—without the pretext of repaying kindness, in vast Jiangning, perhaps they'd never have a chance to meet again. He spoke and treated people as if without much utilitarian or ambitious heart—this was almost unique among the talented scholars and famous gentlemen she'd seen. All along the way composed and natural, unrestrained and free, without many complicated etiquettes yet never giving an unpleasant feeling, while truly maintaining distance. Simply like the legendary character of Tang dynasty scholars. Today's scholars all spoke of being gentlemen—perhaps gentlemen should have such refined bearing.

Perhaps they wouldn't meet again afterward, and he hadn't taken those "kindnesses" seriously either. But such a figure she'd already remembered in her heart—Ning Yi, Ning Liheng...

Nie Yunzhu thought thus, walking toward home.

(End of Chapter)