Encountering Rain at West Lake

The autumn morning had just begun to paint the eastern sky with faint light. Milky white mist drifted through the ancient city. On the Qinhuai River, painted boats glided slowly, half-hidden in patches of thick fog, resembling jade palaces floating in the heavens.

In the dense autumn fog, Ning Yi jogged along the Qinhuai River road, humming a tune. This morning exercise had become a routine. He had plenty of time anyway. Along the way, ancient brick and wood buildings appeared intermittently. Various trees lined the road, and painted boats drifted on the river. Occasionally, he saw boatmen or weary courtesans at the prows of the boats.

This time of day was the most interesting period of renewal in Jiangning City. The disturbances and prosperity of the night had dissipated, and new vitality was just beginning. The outer city gates had opened, and farmers and vendors hurried in with early morning produce for the markets. He didn't encounter many people, but they all gave a sense of greenness and vitality. Occasionally, he saw people looking tired and disheveled hurrying along the road – likely patrons who had spent the night in a brothel and were leaving early for business. Most of the shops were just opening, and the beggars were not yet up.

Happiness often comes from unhappiness, and prosperity from contrast. For Ning Yi, who had seen modern metropolises, Jiangning's prosperity was nothing special. But these things weren't worth fussing over. The simple, natural flavor was real, and the people living here were easily satisfied, content with enough to eat and wear.

Ning Yi occasionally talked about these things with Qin Lao. Jiangning was considered a good city, but beggars roamed everywhere in droves. The phenomenon of selling children was not uncommon. Of course, there were also many wealthy households. If a child could be sold into a good household as a servant, they would never have to worry about food and clothing, which was considered a blessing from their ancestors. Thanks to the prevalence of the pleasure district along the Qinhuai River, there were many options for beautiful, impoverished girls. If they could learn poetry and singing, and if the madam was good at managing things, they could become famous courtesans who only sold their art, not their bodies. If they were lucky, they might marry into a wealthy household as a concubine. But most of the unlucky ones would sell themselves for life. When they grew old and their beauty faded, the madam might be kind-hearted and let them go free. Fortunately, there were many such places, so rules could be established. If they followed the rules, they could scrape by in this life. Of course, "good" and "bad" were relative. If an old prostitute had no money, most brothels would keep her to do odd jobs, rather than throwing her out. After living together for so long, they had that much conscience and provided that much welfare. If it weren't in cities like Jiangning and Yangzhou, even these things couldn't be guaranteed.

There were also those who raised "thin horses," as they were called. The "thin horses" of Yangzhou became famous in later generations, starting in the Ming Dynasty, but similar businesses existed at this time, though on a smaller scale. It was an investment accompanying the pleasure districts. Girls raised as "thin horses" had a better life than those sold directly to brothels because they at least had the opportunity to learn music, chess, calligraphy, painting, poetry, and singing. They were more likely to become famous courtesans.

During the flood season, there were always refugees. In good years, there were fewer, but there were always some. In bad years, such as the Yellow River floods or other natural or man-made disasters that occurred every few years, the city would be tense for a while. The army would guard the city gates, preventing refugees from entering. The prefect would convene wealthy merchants to discuss the situation, essentially soliciting donations to provide porridge and food. People froze to death in the winter, depending on the year. In good years, fewer died, but in bad years, it went without saying. Beggars had a hard time in winter. If it snowed, the next day, you would see people frozen to death, huddled together. It was a common sight.

People got used to these things after seeing them often. But Qin Lao would occasionally say, "These are not good years." There were good years too. The early years of the Wu Dynasty could be considered peaceful and prosperous. Emperor Wu Heng and Emperor Wu Hui were considered brilliant and far-sighted, but Ning Yi found it a bit dizzying. But every dynasty had some years of peace and prosperity. The Wu Dynasty at this time was very similar to the late Northern Song Dynasty. Outside the relatively prosperous area of Jiangnan, several peasant forces were rebelling, and bandits were common. The state of Liao, ruled by the Yelü clan in the north, frequently invaded the border, and each time there was a negotiation. A contract had been signed a few years ago, calling each other "brotherly states." Of course, Liao was the older brother and Wu the younger brother. Even with the contract, fighting continued, and small-scale border incursions never stopped.

Ning Yi wasn't worried about this. The Jingkang Incident hadn't happened yet. Although the emperor was different, if it happened, it would definitely be different. The emperor hadn't moved the capital to Jiangning yet. The country still had some strength, and if it had to fight, it could support itself. Even if the capital was moved and the Wu Dynasty entered Southern Song mode, the Southern Song Dynasty survived for a long time. By the time the Jin invaded, he should have lived out his life. "Four hundred and eighty temples of the Southern Dynasties, how many towers and pavilions are shrouded in mist and rain…" Clearly, this wasn't about the Southern Song Dynasty. Ning Yi thought about it, but without any result, he tossed it aside. "Whatever. Anyway, life in the Southern Song Dynasty was definitely decent."

He didn't have the idea of saving the Chinese nation or establishing some great cause in ancient times. He was already tired, as if he had unloaded the burden of passion. He had long been accustomed to injustice and darkness. Modern society was also dark, and even the suffering of the world couldn't arouse his sympathy and resonance – not that he didn't have any, but it wasn't enough. As for becoming emperor or some other great achievement, thinking about things a hundred and twenty years away when you can only live for sixty years was childish. But then again, in other boring moments, such as when he had just finished running and was sweating, resting by the relatively secluded Qinhuai River bend, Ning Yi would think irresponsibly about things that others might consider slightly more positive.

For example, if he really wanted to do something, his status as a live-in son-in-law would be troublesome, but not a big problem. Business opportunities were everywhere in this era. Food lacked MSG. He knew the method of making MSG, which seemed simple but was actually a bit complicated. But he could probably mass-produce it in about a year. Then, he could create a food street with some new dishes and modern cooking concepts, and he could probably make a fortune.

There was no music in this era. Anyone who had lived in a world where they could download and listen to unlimited music every day could imagine how boring it was. The performances in those brothels might not be good, and the singing of the famous courtesans might not be good, but if you couldn't hear anything at all, suddenly hearing something even slightly passable would feel like celestial music. If he could create an entertainment center, it would be a great success, with songs, dances, and various games. The lyrics of modern songs probably couldn't be used, but the melodies and singing styles could be localized. He could use more subtle dance concepts that fit the style of the time, or copy out some poems for people to sing.

He had been bored for too long and was constantly thinking about food, drink, and entertainment.

As for moving beyond food, drink, and entertainment, spending decades creating guns and cannons to lay the foundation for an industrial revolution, rebelling, becoming an emperor, and allowing people two hundred years later to fly on airplanes, he wouldn't be able to enjoy any of it, no matter what. It seemed too stupid. It would be more meaningful to open a food street and an entertainment center.

The morning breeze was slightly cool. He stood by the stone river bend, throwing stones into the water while thinking about these ideas.

Actually, he couldn't do any of this for now.

As a member of the Su family, opening a brothel was out of the question. He could put that aside for now. The Su family ran a cloth shop. It would be troublesome for him to open a tavern. For example, he could first give the Su family's cloth shop a few ideas to prove his worth, and then… oh, then he would be assigned to the cloth shop as a shopkeeper, just like his previous job. Next, he could use his funds to open a tavern, and under their confused gaze, tell them that it was very profitable. After that, he would need to find someone to get a series of equipment, use his brain to do various experiments, and create a production line. And the reason for doing this was simply because he missed being able to put less than a gram of MSG in every meal. Wasn't that just asking for trouble…

Humming the melody of "Blue Caribbean Sea," Ning Yi couldn't help but laugh at his idea. It might not be that troublesome to do, but it was fun to think about. It would be better to buy a few hundred pounds of kelp, boil it, and dry the crystals. But kelp was easy to buy. If he did experiments on this, on the one hand, they would say he was wasting things, and on the other hand, someone might tell him that a gentleman should stay away from the kitchen…

He hummed the beginning of "Blue Caribbean Sea," but forgot the rest, so it turned into "Two Tigers." When he hummed "Two tigers running fast" for the second time, he heard a rooster crowing in the distance.

"Brother, brother, brother…"

"Cluck, cluck, cluck…"

Two sounds: one was a woman's voice, and the other was a hen's. He turned around and saw, in the faintly visible mist, a hen running frantically between the road and the trees. Then a woman in a gray and white cloth skirt appeared, holding a kitchen knife, relentlessly pursuing the hen. The two of them were desperately spinning around in the mist, appearing and disappearing.

Ning Yi stood under a tree by the river, watching this scene with his chin in his hand.

Theoretically, calling like a chicken was supposed to give the chicken a sense of security, enticing it to come over. But now the hen was so scared, what was the use of calling "brother"? Calling "sister" wouldn't work either.

Thinking this, he watched the human-chicken battle for a while. Just as he thought the woman had a good figure, the hen suddenly turned and ran towards him, rushing past Ning Yi and jumping into the river.

The woman, looking anxious, closely followed. The morning mist was thick, and Ning Yi, standing under a tree, wasn't very noticeable. The woman probably didn't see him. Seeing the riverbank ahead, she swung the knife down. She put a lot of force into the swing, and even let out a "hum," but she didn't hit anything. Instead, the knife flew out of her hand and splashed into the water.

Ning Yi was startled by the decisiveness and momentum of the strike. Then he realized that the woman's body was leaning forward, her arms waving, about to fall into the river. He instinctively shouted, "Hey!" and reached out, grabbing one of her hands. The woman turned around, and her other hand instinctively reached out. Ning Yi was about to pull her back when a stone under his feet gave way…

"Ah—glug—" A short exclamation.

Bang—

Then there was the sound of violent splashing, flapping and thrashing on the river surface under the dense fog.

Ning Yi was a good swimmer in his previous life, but he didn't bring that skill with him. This body was originally a weak scholar, not a good swimmer. His constitution was weak and he had been injured. Although Ning Yi had recuperated for a few months and exercised, the improvement in a few months was limited. The woman didn't seem to be a good swimmer either. The two of them struggled desperately in the not-very-deep water. Ning Yi calmed down several times and tried to speak, but he was pulled underwater each time.

"You… glug…"

"Hey… glug glug…"

"Don't… glug glug glug…"

It was said that many good swimmers who tried to be heroes were dragged down and killed by panicked drowning people.

He didn't know how long it took, but Ning Yi dragged the woman up the steps of the riverbank a few dozen meters away. He was soaked, disheveled, and had to lie on the bank, spitting out water to recover. Then he looked at the woman he had rescued. She had swallowed a lot of water and was unconscious, motionless.

"Hey!" Ning Yi slapped the woman's face several times. Her long hair was like seaweed, looking miserable. She didn't react.

"San Ou Floating Emerald Pond… You live by the Qinhuai River and can't swim…" Ning Yi sighed helplessly a few times. Then he straightened her body and started performing first aid, following the steps he had learned before.

Even if the other person was a woman, this first aid wasn't a pleasant task. She wasn't a swimsuit model. At this moment, the woman's body was wrinkled, and her messy hair made her look like a drowned water ghost. Ning Yi was anxious. He did several chest compressions in a row, making her spit out a lot of water. Then he slapped her face and found that she still wasn't responding, so he pinched her cheeks and started mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

After doing it for a while, the woman woke up groggily. Ning Yi was about to lean down when a slap rang out on his face. In the morning breeze, the slap was crisp and clear. The woman cried, her voice mournful, "You scoundrel… cough… what are you doing…" She hugged her chest and frantically backed away. Her clothes clung to her body, and her slender legs kicked on the ground. She looked pitiful and thin.

If other pedestrians had passed by at this time, they might have beaten Ning Yi for this.

"I knew it would be like this…" Ning Yi tilted his head for a while, lowered his shoulders, and let out a long breath. Then he sat down on the road behind him. The two stared at each other for a while by the river. Ning Yi raised his hand, "Are you okay?"

The woman glared at him, not speaking.

"If you are okay, then it’s fine." He answered himself, forcefully got up, and turned to walk in the direction he came from. A cool wind blew, and it was so cold.

Behind him, the woman sat there huddled up, watching his figure disappear in the distance…

That woman was pitiful. She lost her hen and her knife. While walking back, soaked to the bone, Ning Yi gloated to himself. Being exposed to the cold wind was a painful thing, but thinking that others were more pitiful slightly lessened his pain.

Regarding small matters, he always had his own open-minded way. Since things couldn't be changed, he had to use this method to make himself happy for the moment.