Miss Nanzhi had not been much interested in the poem Pan Yucheng gave her.

But when she heard that Ning Chen was the man who had written those works for the ages, something occurred to her, and she opened the paper in her hand at once.

The title of the poem was To Nanzhi.

When she saw what was in it her eyes lit all at once, and she read it out without meaning to.

向煖南枝趁早開， 讓渠獨佔百花魁。 The south branch turns to the warmth and opens before all the rest; let her alone be queen of the hundred flowers.

與時無競緘春在， 感子相思索笑來。 She does not contend with the season; the spring is sealed up in her; and, moved by one who longs for her, she comes out looking for a smile.

The poem was not the equal of Ning Chen’s own works for the ages, but it could fairly be called a fine piece of the kind one rarely sees… and above all, the first line had Nanzhi’s own name in it.

Everyone there was a lover of poetry.

Hearing Miss Nanzhi read it out, they nodded and praised it one after another.

“A fine poem. God damn it, that’s fine—”

Feng Qizheng clapped and shouted his approval. In fact he had not understood much of it… but shouting approval was the right thing to do.

The poets and versifiers rolled their eyes at him and cursed him for a coarse fighting man under their breath.

Miss Nanzhi looked at Pan Yucheng with her eyes shining and asked him prettily, “Was this poem written by Pan the Gold Coat?”

“No. Ning Chen wrote it.”

Pan Yucheng said it honestly.

Ning Chen had absolutely nothing to say to that. Old Pan is too honest by half. Say you wrote it. Then when Miss Nanzhi asks you for a poem later, you come and ask me for one. What is so hard about that?

Miss Nanzhi had the look of a woman who had expected exactly that.

There was nothing but envy in the way Miss Yudie looked at her. With this poem out in the world, there is no telling how many times over Nanzhi’s price will go up.

What Ning Chen was doing here amounted to driving the price up… but for the sake of Pan Yucheng’s love life, let it be driven.

“Miss Nanzhi, Old Pan really does like you… And he is an upright man, and the main thing is he is steady and he works hard. You cannot go wrong choosing him.”

As he said it he pointed at Ning Gan. “Now look at this one. The white face on him, the hollows under his eyes, the look of a man worn out with too much indulgence — who knows what filthy disease he has. One look too many and you would have to go home and wash your eyes out. Nobody in his right mind would look at him twice.”

“Ning Chen, you—”

The rage very nearly brought a mouthful of blood up out of Ning Gan.

Damned bastard. Miss Nanzhi was very interested in that jade flute, and the bastard has ruined the whole thing.

Ning Chen was contemptuous. “And bringing a broken-down jade flute to fool Miss Nanzhi with. What fine thing has she not seen? With her eye, is she going to look twice at a useless article like you?”

“Miss Nanzhi, this is Ning Gan, First Young Master of the Ning house, and he has had praise from His Majesty himself… These were the words. Fishing for a name he hasn’t earned. All show and nothing behind it. An embroidered pillow. Not worth a dog’s fart.”

There were strange looks all around. Is that praise?

“Oh, and he held an office once… He was not half a day in the post before His Majesty put him out of it.”

Ning Gan was shaking with rage and cold with it. He felt that everyone there was laughing at him, and his face burned. He fixed his eyes on Ning Chen and would have swallowed him alive and skinned him.

“What are you glaring at? Do you doubt I’d dig your eyeballs out and stamp on them like piss-bladders?”

Chen Chong roared it, pointing at him.

The rest stared at Ning Gan with sneers all over their faces.

Ning Gan wanted to die of shame and rage, and would have found a crack in the floor and crawled into it… There was no staying after that. He ran for it in disorder, missed his footing on the stairs, and rolled down them.

A roar of laughter went up.

Ning Gan paid no attention to the pain of it. He got up and went off limping.

Nanzhi’s fine eyes blinked, and she looked at Pan Yucheng. “If Pan the Gold Coat does not think it beneath him, would he come back to this girl’s room and drink a cup of tea?”

Everyone stopped dead.

And then the whole pack of animals set up a wailing.

Miss Nanzhi had a guest behind the curtain.

Taking a man back to her room did not necessarily mean giving herself. But to get inside one of the twelve houses was, to these poets and versifiers, the highest honor there was.

Pan Yucheng’s face went blank. I must have misheard. When he came back to himself he was so worked up he did not know what to do with his hands or his feet.

“Old Pan. What are you waiting for? Say yes.”

Pan Yucheng, tight with nerves, said “Mm” to her.

“Pan the Gold Coat. Please come with this girl.”

Pan Yucheng went up the stairs after her with Feng Qizheng and the others roaring behind him.

Chen Chong came at Ning Chen and got an arm around his shoulders, with an entirely serious face. “Are we brothers or not?”

Ning Chen rolled his eyes at him.

“Ning Chen, if we’re brothers then write one for me too. I want to give it to Miss Yudie… Your brother’s happiness is in your hands.”

“Get out of here. You’re married, and you’re still after Miss Yudie. Are you human?” Feng Qizheng shoved him aside and got an arm around Ning Chen’s shoulders. “Ning Chen, I’m not married. Help me out? You can be my own father from now on.”

Ning Chen had nothing at all to say.

“Young Master Ning. This girl wonders whether she might have the honor of drinking a cup of wine with you.”

It was Miss Yudie who had spoken. Her voice was very fine, like pearls falling on a jade plate.

That stopped Ning Chen for a moment. Then he laughed. “Of course.”

Another wail went up.

Miss Yudie has her eye on Ning Chen. There is no chance for us.

Feng Qizheng, who a moment ago had been ready to call him father, turned on him instantly. “Ning Chen. I’m breaking it off with you.”

“What has he got? All he can do is write a few sour verses. I am this handsome, and no girl ever looks kindly on me. Why is that?”

Chen Chong rubbed his stubbled chin, feeling sorry for himself.

All the rest glared savagely at Ning Chen, wanting nothing so much as to take his place.

Yudie came down from the stage to Ning Chen’s table, poured two cups of wine, handed him one, and looked at him with a great deal of feeling.

This woman has beautiful eyes. I wonder what her face is like.

Ning Chen took the cup and drank it off.

“Ning Chen, you’ve drunk the wine… Surely you have to write Miss Yudie a poem?”

Feng Qizheng started the others off.

The rest were full of expectation too. Every one of them loved poetry.

Yudie looked at him with hope in her eyes and said prettily, “This girl wonders whether she might have the honor.”

Ning Chen thought about it. It’s only a poem. I have plenty… and every one of them freeloaded anyway.

“Very well. I’ll write you one.”

Yudie looked at him with her eyes shining, full of expectation.

Ning Chen made a show of thinking, then snapped his fingers and laughed. “I have it.”

千呼萬喚始出來， 猶抱琵琶半遮面。 A thousand calls, ten thousand urgings, and at last she came out, still holding the lute across her face, half hidden behind it.

轉軸撥弦三兩聲， 未成曲調先有情。 She turned the pegs and brushed the strings, two notes, three, and before there was any tune in it there was feeling.

When he had finished he ran his eye over the room.

Every one of the poets and versifiers had gone red with excitement… because they had watched a work for the ages being born in front of them.

Miss Yudie’s breathing had quickened with it too, and those eyes like autumn water were fixed on him.

“Is the lady satisfied?”

She nodded over and over. “Yudie is very satisfied. To have a poem given her by the young master, Yudie has nothing left to regret in this life.”

“Young master. What is the title of the poem?”

Ning Chen laughed. “Call it To Yudie.”

Yudie was overjoyed, and her great liquid eyes curved into crescents… With that title on it the poem was hers, and nobody could take it from her.

“Thank you, young master.”

Yudie made a graceful bow.

She looked at him with her eyes full of expectation. “If the young master does not think it beneath him, this girl has good wine in her room… Would the young master come through and drink a cup there?”

The animals all around set up another wail.

That’s the end of it… Miss Yudie has a guest behind the curtain too.

(End of Chapter 78)