Chapter 18: Aura

Since Nie Yunzhu and Hutao, her maid, left Jinfeng Tower two years ago, they had lived together like sisters. Both tried their best to take on what work they could, but ultimately, the master-servant dynamic remained. Hutao still handled most of the housework, with Nie Yunzhu only doing simpler tasks. Nie Yunzhu spent her days embroidering beautiful brocades, occasionally sewing shoe soles or handkerchiefs, and teaching qin at Jinfeng Tower every few days to support their home. However, her embroidery was a labor of love, a pursuit of exquisite craftsmanship. While the quality was high, the effort and cost involved were also significant, so it didn't generate much income.

Last month, when Hutao fell seriously ill, Nie Yunzhu inevitably had to take over these responsibilities. She could cook simple meals and do the laundry, though perhaps not as skillfully or cleanly as Hutao. However, a few days before the Mid-Autumn Festival, she bought an old hen, intending to stew it to nourish Hutao, but her attempts ended in a series of blunders.

She dared not kill the hen, which later escaped. Chasing it, she jumped into the river, threw away her cleaver, and even accidentally implicated a kind passerby who rescued her. Her first reaction upon waking was to slap her rescuer. The next day, she was seen by the same person while trying to retrieve the cleaver, and he even helped her kill the chicken.

Normally, she was a composed and dignified woman, having met many people during her years in the brothel and always valuing her image. Yet, this time, she had been seen only in embarrassing situations, which she found mortifying to recall. A few days prior, she had also fallen ill with Hutao, fortunately, it was just a mild cold and she recovered after the Mid-Autumn Festival. She felt remorseful that she hadn't even asked her benefactor's name. She thought it might be Huoyan Leifeng, but wasn't sure. Who knew she would meet him again today?

Nie Yunzhu had encountered many people in her life. This young man, likely in his early twenties, appeared scholarly. Yet, upon reflection, his actions were quite different from others; his speech and demeanor were remarkably casual. This was evident from his reaction after she slapped him when he rescued her, to his simply helping her kill the chicken and then leaving. Nie Yunzhu followed him now and saw that he indeed wanted to buy charcoal, but after he examined the charcoal and conversed with the shop owner, the situation changed.

As late autumn approached and winter neared, most households would buy charcoal. There were naturally places that sold it loosely, but this particular shop sold charcoal bagged by weight. After speaking with the owner, the man emptied a large bag of charcoal onto the ground. He then took a cloth bag, squatted down, and began meticulously selecting individual charcoal sticks. Few were deemed suitable; he would often draw a few lines on the ground with a stick before finally placing it into his bag. The shop owner didn't seem annoyed, merely asked a few curious questions, then returned to his business.

After watching for a moment, Nie Yunzhu approached and stopped slightly behind him. She bent down and said, "Benefactor?"

"Hmm?" The man turned to look at her and recognized her. "Oh, it's you. What a coincidence." He continued diligently selecting charcoal.

His reaction and words were somewhat peculiar. Confucian culture, having reached its peak by this time, dictated elaborate and complex social etiquette. Typically, a man encountering a woman would stand at attention, bow, and act with gentle courtesy—this refined demeanor was ingrained in society. However, "Oh, it's you. What a coincidence," spoken so casually, was something Nie Yunzhu had never encountered before, yet it felt strangely natural. She paused slightly, blinked, then gathered her skirt and squatted beside him.

"Benefactor..."

"Haha, it was just killing a chicken. No big deal, you don't need to call me benefactor," the man said with a laugh, waving his hand dismissively.

"Does benefactor only remember killing the chicken, and not saving this humble one from the river?"

"Ah..."

He froze for a moment, then realized. Nie Yunzhu couldn't help but let out a small laugh. They were now squatting side-by-side in front of the pile of charcoal. Nie Yunzhu tilted her head to look at him. "My name is Nie Yunzhu." She waited a moment, ensuring he registered the name, then continued, "Is benefactor's name Huoyan Leifeng?"

"Hu- Huoyan Leifeng..."

For a moment, the man's expression seemed to twitch, a complex mix of emotions, before he finally laughed. "Haha, Ning Yi," he said. "Ning Yi, courtesy name Liheng."

Hearing that name, Nie Yunzhu was stunned.

"Shuidiao Getou...""That person is Ning Yi, courtesy name Liheng...""The live-in son-in-law of the Su family...""Perhaps he bought the poem just to gain fame..."

The astonishment from first seeing that poem in Jinfeng Pavilion still lingered in her mind, and the girls' gossip suddenly flashed before her eyes. Ning Yi, Ning Liheng. She had initially simply admired the poem itself, not yet fully digesting its inherent beauty, and had little interest in discussing gossip. So, the name had been completely irrelevant to her then; she hadn't even given it a thought. But now, it hit her with an impact.

She stood there stunned for a long moment, then finally reacted. "Young Master Ning... what will you use this charcoal for?"

"Hmm, for writing." Ning Yi tapped a wooden board on the ground, which was painted white. Then he took a fine piece of charcoal and wrote the character "Nie" on the ground. He probably intended to write "Nie Yunzhu," the name he had just heard, but paused at the last stroke of "Nie," likely realizing it might be impolite to simply write her name. He moved slightly and wrote the characters for "Ning Yi."

The calligraphy was in the Kai script style, bold and powerful. As he finished the last stroke, the charcoal snapped in his hand. Nie Yunzhu herself was skilled in calligraphy; she quietly assessed it. The technique for holding charcoal was different from that of a brush. If she were to write with charcoal, her characters would be far inferior. The fact that he could casually write like this with charcoal indicated he had already mastered calligraphy.

In those days, poetry and calligraphy were often intertwined. Those with profound achievements in calligraphy were often considered great scholars, or at least very close to it. It seemed entirely plausible that someone who could write such characters would also be capable of writing "Shuidiao Getou." Nie Yunzhu thought to herself that rumors were indeed often unreliable. Little did she know that Ning Yi's brush calligraphy was merely passable, but he had truly practiced various artistic styles with chalk and pens. Later, with his status and composure, his handwriting gained an added air of presence. Looking at the two characters now, he felt they had regressed slightly, but were still good enough to impress others. Practicing calligraphy wasn't something achieved overnight; he couldn't let the students who painstakingly practiced brush calligraphy all day think their teacher's handwriting was poor.

"I'll take this to the classroom and use this whiteboard to write on. It can be erased. A sand tray isn't clear enough; you constantly have to sweep it, and it's flat, which makes it tiring for students. This can be hung vertically."

"Classroom... school? Is Young Master Ning a teacher at a school?"

"Yes, a small school, teaching some incredibly slow students how to read and write..."

"Haha... Young Master Ning, is this one suitable?"

In the world of brothels, knowing how to interact naturally with people was a cultivated social art. Given preparation, Nie Yunzhu was confident she could converse naturally with anyone without feeling awkward. This time, their conversation felt natural, but not due to her own effort; rather, it felt due to his demeanor. They selected charcoal until the small cloth bag was full, their hands now stained black. When paying, Ning Yi paid an extra ten-plus coins for the small bag of charcoal.

"The shop owner is so unreasonable, charging over ten more coins for these few charcoal sticks," Nie Yunzhu said after they stepped outside.

"Haha, it's not good to trouble them. They probably let me be so picky because they heard it was for a school. Being a teacher is quite useful."

"If Young Master needs to buy more next time, you might as well buy a few bags to take home and select. Since you'll use it at home anyway, you can save that money."

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

Soon after, they washed their hands by the Qinhuai River. One carried the wooden board and charcoal, while the other carried a cloth bag and a medicine packet. They walked one behind the other. Nie Yunzhu again brought up the incident of falling into the river and him rescuing her. Ning Yi simply waved it off, saying it was nothing important, lightly dismissing the topic.

They occasionally chatted, the atmosphere strangely natural. After walking some distance, Nie Yunzhu, a step behind, thought of the artistic imagery of "Shuidiao Getou." Suddenly, she felt that perhaps only someone so uninhibited and composed could write such a poem.

They walked for a considerable distance until they reached a river bend, where Ning Yi finally stopped to bid her farewell. Nearby, the river glistened calmly, willows were a vibrant green, and a teahouse along with several small shops were nestled there. Beside the teahouse, a small chess stall hosted two old men calmly playing a game, one of whom was dressed in luxurious silk, appearing quite distinguished.

She bowed and said goodbye. After exchanging a few more words, she paused briefly before walking on. He also walked a short distance, heading towards the teahouse and chess stall. The two old men seemed to know him; they laughed and said something. She vaguely heard his voice: "...These past few days you two have made me miserable... This morning, Yu Zixing came looking for me..."

As she walked away, she looked back one last time. The man was sitting there, watching the chess game, gently sipping a cup of tea. There hadn't been much interaction between them. Without the pretense of repaying kindness, in the vast city of Jiangning, they might never meet again. His way of speaking and treating people seemed devoid of self-interest or ulterior motives, a quality almost unique among the talented scholars and renowned figures she had met. Throughout their encounter, he had been calm and natural, unconstrained and unrestrained, with few formalities, yet he never gave an unpleasant impression. He maintained a clear distance, almost like the rumored character of Tang Dynasty literati. Nowadays, scholars all claimed to be gentlemen; perhaps a gentleman should indeed possess such an elegant demeanor.

Perhaps they wouldn't meet again, and he didn't treat their "kindness" as a big deal, but his figure was now etched in her memory.

Ning Yi, Ning Liheng...

Nie Yunzhu thought this as she walked home.