Chapter 09: Husband
Ning Yi didn't have much confidence in his current body, though he'd been exercising for several months. It was normal to feel a bit dizzy upon waking, but opening the door for some fresh air cleared his head.
The sky hadn't brightened yet, and the entire city of Jiangning lay shrouded under a dark canopy. But dawn was approaching, and looking out from the second floor, including the Su family compound, scattered lights were already flickering throughout the city near and far. In the neighboring courtyards, early-rising servants moved about with muffled conversations. Further away, beyond the courtyard walls, the silhouette of streets immersed in darkness showed hazy house lights.
In the two-story building opposite, warm yellow lamplight filtered through the window lattices, bathing the courtyard in a cozy glow. The three young maids always rose early. Su Tan'er's schedule varied, but this morning she seemed already up—through the second-floor window, a woman's silhouette could be seen doing her hair before a mirror, with a young maid's figure bustling back and forth. As Ning Yi headed downstairs, Juan'er was passing through the corridor toward that building. She curtsied slightly and greeted him softly: "Young Master is up."
"Morning, Juan'er."
Then a window opened in a room downstairs, revealing Chan'er's face as she busied herself inside: "Young Master, don't come down. I'll bring water up."
"Ha, no need to trouble yourself. I can manage."
The Su family had a main kitchen, so these two small buildings had no separate cooking facilities, but the downstairs room had a place for heating water and washing up. In winter, if one wanted to bathe properly, they'd heat the tub from below, so the bathroom couldn't be upstairs—Xiao Chan had already adapted to Ning Yi's early morning exercise routine and was planning to carry hot water upstairs, but Ning Yi had already come down. As a modern person, he wasn't fussy about such details—heating water himself was nothing. A few days ago, while waiting for water to heat in the early morning, he'd squatted by the stove adding firewood out of boredom, making Xiao Chan somewhat flustered. At breakfast, Su Tan'er had tactfully said: "Husband shouldn't do these things." Xiao Chan had hung her head beside them as if she'd done something wrong. He'd just smiled and said it didn't matter.
There was no need to deliberately show off his unconventional ways—he wouldn't do things that were truly taboo. But neither did he need to deliberately restrain himself to completely become an "ancient person." Otherwise, what would be the point of living this life here?
If everyone was truly going to live together for many years—if there was really a possibility of being husband and wife—then in these small matters, rather than restraining himself, it would be better to let the other party slowly adapt and understand. So in many insignificant areas, he'd express himself. He didn't mind occasionally entering the kitchen to tend the fire, and he'd tell stories and talk about everyday matters to his students in class—that wouldn't change. Occasionally adding a few modern terms others didn't quite understand in conversation wasn't worth worrying about either.
Before that Old Qin, he could occasionally express some progressive ideas, even if slightly unorthodox—no problem, as the old man had been an official with broad experience and thoughtful nature, not fussy about trifles. They were just chess friends with no entangled interests, and as the old man said, having married into a merchant family, it would be difficult for him to climb up in terms of official achievements. Perhaps this was what "friendship between gentlemen is as plain as water" meant. The other party wouldn't harm him—during their long chess sessions, while Old Qin had been sizing him up, hadn't he also been evaluating the other?
Since they could be friends, it didn't matter—occasionally expressing some advanced insights and watching the other's thoughtful expression actually satisfied his vanity quite well. To him it was just idle chat, as these insights weren't actually absent in this era, just expressed differently. He naturally wouldn't touch truly sensitive matters.
Downstairs he brushed his teeth and washed his face—toothbrushes and tooth powder already existed, though the taste was indeed poor. Then he left the courtyard, heading out the side gate through a small path. Along the way roosters had begun crowing, and a faint white light appeared in the east. Occasionally encountering maids or stewards from other courtyards, they'd call "Young Master" in greeting.
Leaving the Su family compound, he still followed his usual route at a jog, thinking along the way about what to discuss in class today and about some Chinese-style songs he knew. Some songs he couldn't fully remember, or perhaps didn't fit this era's style. But entertainment was truly too scarce in these times, and thinking he might forget even more later, he felt it necessary to write down the lyrics he still remembered. After pondering this, his thoughts turned to poetry. He hadn't been a good student and hadn't deliberately memorized much poetry, but over the following decades of broad reading, he still remembered many famous lines—a valuable resource. It would be a pity to forget them later.
Halfway through his run, he indeed felt something wrong with his body—yesterday's fall in the river had brought adverse effects after all. But having warmed up anyway, perhaps running for a while and working up a sweat would be good treatment, so he continued on.
Mist floated through the city, the scene no different from yesterday, and approaching the spot where he'd climbed from the water yesterday, he heard some commotion from the nearby river surface—the location where he'd fallen in. Looking over, he could vaguely make out a figure moving there, apparently poling a small boat.
He slowed his pace, approaching curiously to find the small boat rocking violently on the water. A woman's figure stood on board holding a long bamboo pole, seemingly unsteady, and as Ning Yi watched, she swayed for a long time before falling back into the boat with a thud. He couldn't tell if it was yesterday morning's woman—today she wore a pink cloak, her figure tall and graceful, quite pretty, though the fall and her scrambling to get up from the boat somewhat damaged her bearing.
The boat rocked severely as the woman carefully crawled up, one hand gently bracing against the gunwale. When she raised her head, her hair slightly disheveled, and caught sight of the man watching from the riverbank, her eyes widened in alarm. Only then did Ning Yi clearly see the long bamboo pole had a net attached to one end, still bearing some mud. After the woman carefully stood up, she held a kitchen knife in her hand.
Oh, indeed it was yesterday's knife...
The cloak was pretty but somewhat worn, and this woman was poor at swimming but perhaps could pole a boat a little. She'd actually waited until morning when no one was around to come salvage this kitchen knife—shy? This was probably a girl who'd previously lived in decent circumstances, but her current situation didn't look good—Ning Yi watched for a bit and reached this conclusion. He wasn't particularly concerned about others, but the woman seemed flustered as she tried to pole the boat to shore—but perhaps due to panic, the small boat kept spinning in the water. She couldn't stand steady, nearly falling several times, and then...
"Achoo—"
Just as Ning Yi was about to leave, he sneezed, and the woman on the boat also sneezed and fell back into the boat with a thud. When she crawled up, she glared this way somewhat embarrassedly while Ning Yi also felt slightly awkward and pursed his lips: "The chicken already drowned. Why are you still salvaging that knife..."
A moment of silence.
"The chicken came back..."
"Huh?"
Ning Yi had spoken casually—honestly, it was a rather terrible joke, but he'd misjudged her response. After her words carried from mid-river, Ning Yi also paused in surprise.
"...The chicken didn't die. Auntie Chen... Auntie Chen from the Chen family found it and brought it back." She explained.
"...Oh."
Yesterday this woman had chased the chicken until it jumped in the river, then Ning Yi got pulled in too and hadn't seen what happened after. That chicken was apparently formidable—after flapping about it actually made it back up, and the local customs were quite honest too—knowing she'd lost a chicken, someone had actually returned it. Ning Yi praised this inwardly, then said after a moment: "Can you pass that pole over?"
The boat was some distance from shore—the long pole could originally reach, but if held horizontally, the woman didn't have enough strength. The leverage also made the boat somewhat dangerous, and after several tries, one end of the pole reached the bank but remained submerged. Ning Yi couldn't reach it and had to walk upstream a ways to find another bamboo pole by the roadside. Extending it from the bank, he finally pulled the woman and boat together to shore.
"Thank you, young sir... And about yesterday, when I'd just woken up, I did some..."
This woman wasn't unreasonable—after getting ashore she immediately apologized, also apologizing for yesterday's incident. Being saved yesterday morning yet slapping her rescuer—she probably felt mortified thinking about it, but Ning Yi didn't much care about this and waved his hand: "It's fine, it's fine. I need to continue running. I'll go first."
Turning around with another sneeze, he didn't bother with the woman's strange question behind him about "Is young sir being chased by someone?" and ran off. Repaying kindness was as troublesome as revenge—never mind the practical aspects, the other party would express a stream of grateful words and he'd have to be modest for ages. The etiquette between men and women was troublesome too—why bother? He had a cold now—better to run and work up a sweat.
He'd run this route many times, and turning back at the predetermined spot, he finally discovered the woman's residence halfway through. It was a two-story building by the river, quite distinctive—the riverside had a small terrace extending out, giving it an elegant feeling of living above water. But purely as a residence, it was probably impractical and would be quite cold in winter, and the woman now stood beside a small vegetable plot outside the building. The plot was surrounded by a fence, and the hen she'd chased yesterday was now inside the fence—the woman hesitated for a long time holding the kitchen knife before walking in and reaching for the hen. The hen frantically flapped in resistance, and she retreated in disarray, quickly closing the fence.
This confirmed the woman indeed hadn't done such work before, but her conditions weren't good either—living in this kind of building, she was probably a courtesan1 connected to the Qinhuai River's famous entertainment industry. Some famous courtesans would choose to go independent after buying their freedom, getting a distinctive residence and claiming to have reformed, though patrons would still visit. Unrestrained by others, they might even seem more high-class. Seeing her beautiful appearance, he wondered how she'd fallen to the point of having to kill her own chickens.
Ning Yi watched while jogging past as the woman entered once more, this time catching the chicken—but when she turned, the hen struggled free, feathers flying everywhere. In her panic, the hen had already flown over the fence and was caught in Ning Yi's hands as he came over, unable to bear watching anymore. This time with both wings gripped tightly, escape was impossible. Seeing it was Ning Yi again, the woman froze for a long moment, probably about to thank or apologize again. Ning Yi extended his hand: "Give me the knife."
"Uh..."
Ning Yi was too lazy for back-and-forth "uhs" and took the kitchen knife from her hand. A bowl had already been prepared on the ground outside the fence, and Ning Yi just walked over and squatted down. The hand gripping the wings also grabbed the desperately struggling chicken head, making its neck extend out, then lightly swung the knife.
"Young... young sir... that... a gentleman..."
"Gentleman my foot. Is the hot water boiling?"
"...It's heating."
"Good."
Ning Yi didn't waste words—with one stroke he slit the hen's throat and began draining the blood into the bowl. After steadily draining the blood, the hen had little struggle left, so he threw the chicken on the ground, placed the knife on the bowl, and stood up.
"Take it to the kitchen and pluck the feathers with hot water, then cut it open and clean out the organs. Speaking of which, do you know how to cook it into a dish?"
The woman hesitated.
"Forget it. Find someone who can cook to help, like that auntie who helped find your chicken or whatever—it's not easy to kill a chicken, so don't waste it. Also go see a doctor—you're probably catching a cold... I'm catching one too. I'm leaving first—no need to thank me... achoo—"
He turned and jogged away, disappearing in the distance as the woman behind watched him leave before slightly coming to her senses.
She'd previously been quite socially adept and knew many people, but this man had only seen her embarrassing moments, and his behavior and speech were strange—her usual conversational responses somehow couldn't be used. She thought for a while, but Ning Yi had already run off, so she could only resignedly carry the hen and the bowl of chicken blood toward the kitchen...
During morning classes at Yushan Academy, his physical discomfort had intensified, and he vomited once on the way home after class, confirming his worsening condition. This time Xiao Chan was with him, so after returning home, he was treated like a serious patient and hustled upstairs to bed for protection.
The invalid life he'd experienced when first arriving here would probably need to be endured for another day or two...
(End of Chapter)
- Courtesan: Professional female entertainer, often living independently after buying their freedom ↑