After Cold Dew¹in the ninth month, the temperature dropped more noticeably each day, and when heavy rain fell, Jiangning seemed shrouded in misty patches. Deep autumn rain lacked summer's clamor, carrying the approaching winter's chill, seeping bit by bit into people's clothes.

Crossing the small wooden bridge across from the narrow alley, Ning Yi casually brushed water droplets from his long robe—in such rainy weather, the long robe was actually somewhat cumbersome. In contrast, Xiao Chan running up from behind had it much better—out in the rain, she hadn't worn a skirt but instead a jacket with lake-green trim paired with long pants, her hair in the usual cute bun style, light blue embroidered shoes on her feet. Her outfit was incredibly nimble—she'd probably fallen behind to buy something, and now holding an oil-paper umbrella, she darted around puddles by the roadside, flying over like a swallow.

"Young Master, Young Master, wait for me!"

"What is it?"

"I bought something," Running up to Ning Yi, Xiao Chan smiled and pulled out a small booklet. "Just passed that shop over there and saw this was newly published. Young Master might not have read it, so I bought it."

It was a newly published vernacular novel from the market, titled "Ghost Fox Strange Fate"—such vernacular novels were quite common in this era, with simple and easy language. Some were historical romances, others folk love stories, especially those about various spirits and ghosts, and when popular ones came out, storytellers would take them to teahouses and taverns to narrate. Ning Yi had been reading many such novels lately, and Xiao Chan naturally remembered—sometimes when she saw new ones, she'd buy them to bring home.

These novels couldn't match modern stories for entertainment value, but they were the best available, and when bored, flipping through them—after all, they were classical texts—helped him further integrate into this era's atmosphere. Ning Yi smiled and took it, casually flipping through while Xiao Chan walked behind, chatting away.

"What that person said at lunch was really hateful—Xiao Chan wanted to go scold him."

"Mm."

"He doesn't know anything but makes wild guesses, then dares boast in restaurants about being some talented scholar—someone like that couldn't even pass the xiucai exam!"

"Mm."

"Young Master, Xiao Chan is defending you here. That person was saying bad things about you!"

"What does it matter?"

"How can it not matter? That person... hmph, fine, fine, I know Young Master doesn't care what vulgar people say, but Xiao Chan felt uncomfortable hearing it too, since it damages Young Master's reputation—if Young Master had written a poem right then to scold him, Xiao Chan would have taken it and smacked him on the head!"

"Heh, he doesn't even know me," Ning Yi said, turning a page of the novel. "I was sitting right next to him."

"That's exactly why it's annoying..."

The Mid-Autumn poetry gathering had been nearly a month ago, and public opinion about Water Melody Prelude had been changing ever since. During the first ten-odd days, praise for the poem reached its peak, with the most curiosity and discussion about Ning Yi during that period, then... public opinion quickly died down, developing in deeper, more specific directions.

Such topics had their time limit for spreading among common folk—ordinary citizens might pretentiously follow poetry gathering events for about ten days after Mid-Autumn. Then other things gradually covered this heat—life itself was busy and rushed. When these people mentioned it less frequently, daily discussions about it naturally decreased.

More praise and questions concentrated among groups of scholars, and Water Melody Prelude's influence continued spreading outward—through these scholars' conversations and letters. But doubts and speculation about Ning Yi remained within Jiangning's范围. For instance, if a scholar in the Eastern Capital heard Water Melody Prelude, his admiration wouldn't diminish much, but he naturally wouldn't care too much about who Ning Yi specifically was or whether Ning Yi could write such a poem. After all—it was too far away.

The Wu dynasty resembled the Song, with Confucianism at its peak and scholars making up a considerable portion of society—this "considerable" was relative to the previous thousand years. Even in this dynasty with the most scholars in history, compared to the modern era Ning Yi had lived in, the proportion was truly too small. Therefore, in less than a month, things had already quieted down—though opportunities like today at lunch, accidentally hearing some scholars' unfavorable doubts while eating out, naturally still occurred.

After telling Old Qin and Old Kang his thoughts that day, Old Kang perhaps felt his Mid-Autumn boost had been somewhat excessive and helped Ning Yi with some activities afterward. Reportedly, some scholars wanting to seek Ning Yi's instruction received reprimands from their teachers, and during this near month, various gathering invitations naturally came in abundance. Ning Yi ignored all the invitation cards, and those who actually came seeking instruction numbered only three groups. One found no one home, and when the other two came, seeing Ning Yi teaching children the Analects, they first found topics: "They say half the Analects can govern the world. Hearing Brother Ning explain this way today, your understanding must be profound. I wonder how to interpret XXXXX?"

This was habitual thinking—finding topics from what the other person discussed—and Ning Yi had gone through the Four Books and such proper texts several times and was prepared. Having been immersed in the modern knowledge explosion era, even speaking casually, grasping key points to inspire deep thought was no problem—even taking unconventional approaches, the other party couldn't refute immediately. Since these people came, they'd naturally prepared other questions, including obscure ones, but with Ning Yi's bearing and presence, even women like Nie Yunzhu had to be led along by him. What could these bookworms do? After answering one Analects passage, they had no chance to raise other questions—Ning Yi dealt with them briefly and left. Others only felt he was erudite or unfathomably profound, and thinking afterward, most questions hadn't been asked.

Beyond such group provocations, individuals also came privately—someone called Li Pin seemed very interested in the stories Ning Yi casually told, so came to audit. A few days ago after class, he'd raised some questions to Ning Yi, mainly views on those stories, wanting to discuss with Ning Yi—actually these questions all revolved around Analects principles. He meant no provocation, so Ning Yi talked with him for over half an hour, and the man hadn't come since.

For Ning Yi, as long as no one could prove his lack of learning, outside doubts about Water Melody Prelude couldn't truly become infamy—when the day came that he needed this reputation, proving it would be simple. Something he could do anytime had no necessity now, and he didn't take such things to heart.

Among outside doubts, vague rumors also circulated about a Taoist reciting poetry that Ning Yi plagiarized, though few believed it. As for where it spread from, naturally it couldn't be traced, but Ning Yi had long expected this. Hearing it, he just smiled indifferently.

Regarding chalk, less than half a month after mentioning it, Kang Xian's side had produced a batch of quite good quality, thus the evolution from whiteboard to blackboard took merely ten-odd days to complete. This made teaching much more convenient, though specific results naturally couldn't be seen immediately. His teaching process remained: reading, explaining meanings, telling stories—that was all, though the children's increased learning enthusiasm was obvious.

But such lively classroom atmosphere was probably rare in this era—students liked it; teachers mostly shook their heads. Su Chonghua hinted again, but this time Ning Yi discussed with him briefly how such teaching might have benefits, so he said no more. First, Ning Yi now wore the title of talented scholar with Water Melody Prelude's halo—he couldn't manage him well, and second, the academy had never had results anyway. It couldn't get worse, so let him be and see the effects.

Teaching mornings, strolling around afternoons, or still going to play chess with Old Qin—of course only when it wasn't raining.

Xiao Chan still followed him most of the time and also came to audit at the academy—she quite liked Ning Yi's storytelling, all sorts of strange stories, and if she went back, she could tell them to her two sisters to show off. Ning Yi felt her following had tightened again, possibly on Su Tan'er's instructions—having written Water Melody Prelude, such things were predictable. He understood this well and didn't mind.

Of course, what puzzled him more was that his wife had perhaps indeed found some reason to explain why he'd written that poem, because during the first few days, her scrutinizing looks during meals were quite frequent. Later this changed—she focused on work again, her carriage coming and going daily. Eating and speaking returned to previous attitudes, with no more probing in her words, which interested Ning Yi: what reason had she found and accepted to understand it?... Truly couldn't grasp it...

Beyond this life unchanged from before, Ning Yi occasionally inquired about martial arts or internal energy—the Su family had guards. Reportedly someone had excellent hard qigong, but that was just the level of hard qigong in modern military forces—able to break bricks with their head—and as for more mystical internal energy, from what he'd heard so far, this era should have it. Some famous sect masters might know it, but learning would be difficult, and Ning Yi was temporarily just beginning to collect information in this area—this interested him most. In this era, whether becoming an official, doing business, or rebelling, these were just systems already played out in modern times, merely human interactions—only martial arts had novelty. If there was truly a chance, he really wanted to experience internal energy and such—just hoping it wasn't fake like in modern times—he wasn't greedy. For instance, jumping about one zhang²vertically would do. Of course... he wouldn't mind two zhang either...

To practice martial arts required a good body, and finding some hero to teach him now wasn't very reliable. Solid groundwork was the proper way, so on rainless mornings, daily exercise continued, with intensity doubled according to plans for maximum effect. Sit-ups, push-ups, long-distance running—a few days ago passing Nie Yunzhu's residence, the woman in simple dress stood there and saw him. When he ran closer, she curtsied: "Master Ning."

Ning Yi was drenched in sweat, panting heavily, and barely struggled out a smile and waved. The "hi" couldn't come out, then... he just ran past like that... leaving Nie Yunzhu standing there, stunned for a long while.

She had... finally decided to come out and greet him...

(End of Chapter)