After the cold dew of September, the temperature dropped noticeably. When heavy rain fell, Jiangning City seemed shrouded in mist. The autumn rain was quieter than the summer downpours, carrying the chill of impending winter that seeped into one's clothing.
As Ning Yi walked over the wooden bridge opposite a narrow alley, he casually patted the water stains on his robe. On such a rainy day, wearing a long robe was somewhat cumbersome. In contrast, Little Chan, who was running up from behind, was much better off. Out in the rain, she wasn't wearing a dress but had on a top with lake-green floral trim paired with long pants. Her hair was styled in her usual cute bun, and her light blue embroidered shoes made her outfit light and agile. She must have been buying something back there, and now, holding an oiled paper umbrella, she gracefully maneuvered around the puddles, darting over like a swallow.
"Master, Master, wait for me!"
"What's up?"
"I bought something." She ran up to Ning Yi, smiling as she pulled out a small booklet. "I saw this new release at a shop over there and thought you might not have seen it, so I bought it."
It was a newly published vernacular novel titled The Tale of the Ghost and the Fox. Such novels were quite common in this era, written in simple, accessible language, often featuring historical legends or love stories from folk tales, particularly those involving various spirits and monsters. Some popular stories would be taken by storytellers to tea houses and taverns for narration. Ning Yi had been reading many of these novels lately, and Little Chan had kept track of new releases, occasionally bringing them home.
While these stories were less entertaining compared to modern tales, they were a welcome diversion during idle times, allowing one to immerse themselves in the atmosphere of this era. Ning Yi smiled as he took the novel, flipping through it while Little Chan walked alongside, chattering away.
"That person was truly detestable at noon; I really wanted to scold him."
"Hmm."
"Knowing nothing yet still making wild guesses, and he dared to brag about being a talented scholar in the tavern—such a person couldn't even pass the scholar exams!"
"Hmm."
"Master, I'm standing up for you! That person was speaking ill of you, you know."
"What does it matter?"
"How can it not matter? That guy… hum! I know you don't care about the words of these vulgar people, but it still makes me uncomfortable to hear, especially since it tarnishes your reputation. If only you had written a poem on the spot to scold him, I would have taken it and hit him over the head!"
"Hah, he doesn't even know me." Ning Yi turned a page in the novel. "I was sitting next to him."
"Exactly! That's why it's infuriating…"
The poetry gathering during the Mid-Autumn Festival had taken place nearly a month ago. The public discourse surrounding that Shui Diao Ge Tou had continuously evolved since then. In the first ten days after the event, evaluations of the poem reached a peak, and curiosity about Ning Yi peaked during that time. Then… the public discourse quickly waned and began to develop in deeper, more specific directions.
Such discussions in the market had their time sensitivity. For the many ordinary citizens, around ten days after the Mid-Autumn Festival, they might have continued to feign interest in the poetry gathering, but soon other matters would overshadow that enthusiasm. Life was busy and hurried, and as the frequency of discussions about the event decreased, so too did the chatter about it.
More admiration and questions began to focus on batches of scholars. The influence of Shui Diao Ge Tou continued to spread through word of mouth among these literati. However, the doubts and speculations about Ning Yi remained limited to the Jiangning area. For instance, a scholar in Bianjing who heard Shui Diao Ge Tou would still be impressed, but he would not pay much attention to who Ning Yi was or whether he could have written the poem; after all, it was too far removed from him.
The Wu Dynasty was similar to the Song Dynasty in that Confucianism had reached its peak, and literati held a significant proportion in society. This significant proportion was relative to the previous millennium, and even though it was the era with the most scholars in history, the ratio was still quite low compared to modern times. Therefore, within less than a month, the fervor began to quiet down. Of course, there were still opportunities, like today at noon, to overhear a few literati questioning Ning Yi with disapproval while dining out.
After discussing his thoughts with Old Master Qin and Old Master Kang, perhaps Kang felt that the amplification of the event during the Mid-Autumn Festival was a bit excessive. Subsequently, it was said that some students who wished to consult Ning Yi were scolded by their teacher. During this past month, Ning Yi ignored numerous invitations to gatherings. Only three groups of people actually sought him out: one group went home empty-handed, and the other two, upon arriving, saw Ning Yi teaching children the Analects. They started the conversation with, "I heard that half a book of the Analects can govern the world. Today, hearing Brother Ning explain this principle, I imagine you must have a profound understanding. What does this line mean?"
This was a habitual way of thinking; they found topics based on what the other was saying. Ning Yi had prepared well for the Four Books and similar texts, having gone over them several times. Having been immersed in a time of knowledge explosion, even speaking a bit offhandedly, he could highlight key points that provoked thought. Even if he veered slightly off course, it would be difficult for them to argue back. Since they came, they naturally had prepared other questions, including some obscure ones. However, with Ning Yi's demeanor, even someone like Nie Yunzhu would feel compelled to follow his lead. What could these scholars do? Once he finished answering a segment of the Analects, there was no opportunity to pose additional questions. After a brief exchange, Ning Yi left, and others only found him knowledgeable or enigmatic. Upon reflection, most of their questions remained unasked.
Beyond these organized provocations, there were private visits as well. A fellow named Li Pin seemed quite interested in the stories Ning Yi casually mentioned and came to sit in. A few days ago, after the lesson, he asked Ning Yi some questions, primarily seeking his views on those stories, essentially relating them back to the meanings of the Analects. He had no intention of provoking Ning Yi, who spoke with him for over half an hour. After that, Li Pin did not return.
For Ning Yi, as long as no one could pin down his ignorance, the external doubts regarding Shui Diao Ge Tou could never truly tarnish his reputation. When the day came that he needed this fame, proving himself would be simple. There was no need for him to take any action on matters that could be done at any time; such things were not on his mind.
Among the external skepticism, rumors circulated about Ning Yi allegedly plagiarizing the Daoist priest's poetry. Few believed it, and it was impossible to trace the origin of these rumors. However, Ning Yi had anticipated this and merely smiled it off when he heard.
Regarding the chalk, within half a month of mentioning it, Old Master Kang produced a batch that was quite good in quality. Thus, the transition from whiteboards to blackboards was completed in just over ten days, making teaching much more convenient. Naturally, the specific effects were not immediately apparent; his class process remained the same: reading, interpretation, storytelling. Nonetheless, the increase in the children's enthusiasm for learning was quite evident.
The lively atmosphere in the classroom was something rare for this era. The students enjoyed it, but the teachers mostly shook their heads. Su Chonghua subtly hinted at it again. This time, Ning Yi discussed with him for a while, suggesting that this method of teaching might have its benefits, and Su Chonghua dropped the matter. Firstly, Ning Yi now had the reputation of a talented scholar, with the halo of Shui Diao Ge Tou, so it wasn't his place to interfere. Secondly, the academy hadn't been very successful anyway, so even if things didn't improve, it wouldn't make much of a difference. Letting Ning Yi do as he pleased and seeing the results might not be a bad idea.
In the mornings, Ning Yi taught, and in the afternoons, he strolled around or played chess at Master Qin's — though only when it wasn't raining.
Xiao Chan continued to accompany him most of the time, often joining him at the academy to listen to the lessons — she loved the stories Ning Yi told, filled with strange and unusual tales. When she returned home, she would brag about them to her two sisters. Ning Yi suspected that Su Tan'er had perhaps instructed Xiao Chan to follow him more closely after he wrote Shui Diao Ge Tou, and he understood why, though he didn't mind.
What puzzled him, however, was that his wife had likely come up with some explanation for how he was able to write that poem. In the first few days, while they were eating, her scrutinizing gaze was quite noticeable. But later, it shifted. She returned to focusing on her work, coming and going by carriage as before, and her tone and demeanor during meals and conversations reverted to their usual. There was no more probing in her words, which intrigued Ning Yi: What reason had she found to accept and understand it? He couldn't quite figure her out.
Aside from this unchanged daily routine, Ning Yi occasionally inquired about martial arts or internal energy. The Su family had a group of guards, and it was said that some were skilled in hard martial arts, but they were at best on par with modern-day military qigong practitioners — able to break bricks with their heads, for example. As for the more mystical internal energy, based on what Ning Yi had heard, it likely existed in this era, and some experts from prominent martial sects might possess it. However, learning it would be difficult.
For now, Ning Yi was just beginning to gather information on this topic — it was what intrigued him the most. Whether as an official, a businessman, or even a rebel in this era, it was all just an extension of the systems he had already encountered in modern times, interactions between people. Only martial arts held something new. If he had the chance, he genuinely wanted to explore internal energy — he just hoped it wasn't as fake as it had been in the modern world. He wasn't asking for much, just to be able to jump a little over ten feet in the air. Of course... he wouldn't mind two dozen feet either...
If he wanted to practice martial arts, he needed a good body first. Finding a hero to teach him right now wasn't realistic, so he focused on practical steps. Each clear morning, he continued his physical training, doubling the intensity for maximum effect. Sit-ups, push-ups, long-distance running. A few days ago, as he passed Nie Yunzhu's residence, she, dressed simply, happened to see him. As he ran closer, she gave a respectful bow, "Master Ning."
Covered in sweat and out of breath, Ning Yi struggled to muster a smile, barely managing to wave. He couldn't even utter a 'Hi' as he ran past...
Nie Yunzhu stood there, stunned for a moment.
She had finally decided to greet him, but he was already gone...