The Ning estate.

Ning Chen was out in the yard, holding a horse stance.

This body had been malnourished for years, and coming off a serious illness on top of that, it couldn’t stand up to a strong wind. He needed to train it properly.

If the body had been up to it, Ning Mao wouldn’t have gotten away yesterday.

He held the stance and thought about what came next.

The Ning estate was no place for him to stay. He had to find a way out, and soon.

The way things stood, if he didn’t leave, Chang Ruyue and her sons would finish him sooner or later.

He had a hundred taels now. Enough to buy a small courtyard house somewhere out of the way.

Ning Ziming would be back from court before long. He’d go and lay it out for him then.

Ning Ziming had no room in his heart for this son either, so he would probably agree. As for Chang Ruyue and her sons, they would likely be delighted to see him go.

The West City, then. All sorts mixed in together over there. He could sell poems, and also make some things this world had never seen and sell those.

He was still turning it over when Ning Gan and Ning Mao came charging in with a handful of household men carrying clubs.

One look and he was backing toward the base of the wall without thinking about it. That was where the woodpile stood. Grab a split log and you had a weapon.

“Big Brother, was I wrong? This bastard has money for new clothes. He must have stolen it from you.”

Ning Mao leveled a finger at Ning Chen and shouted it.

Ning Gan narrowed his eyes. His face was sly. “Ning Chen. I lost five taels of silver yesterday. Did you steal it?”

Ning Chen’s voice was ice. “Ning Gan. If you’re going to frame a man, shouldn’t you at least find a reason that fits? You lost your silver yesterday, and yesterday the two of us never laid eyes on each other.”

Ning Gan smiled a nasty little smile. “When a thief steals, does he let the owner watch him do it?”

“You say you didn’t take it. Then let me ask you — where did the money for new clothes come from?”

Ning Chen kept his face hard. “I earned it myself.”

Ning Mao jeered. “You can’t carry a load on your shoulder or lift one in your hands. You’re useless. How would you earn anything? I say you didn’t earn it. I say you stole it from Big Brother.”

Yesterday, Ning Chen had come after him with a stick and he had run with his head in his hands. The more he thought about it afterward, the worse it sat.

In the end he remembered Ning Chen’s new clothes, and he took the matter to Chang Ruyue.

Chang Ruyue laid out the plan for him. This was the result.

Their aim was plain enough. Get it done before Ning Ziming came back from court — beat Ning Chen bloody, strip the new clothes off him, and see how he got through the winter.

Ning Chen didn’t bother explaining. The two brothers had come looking for trouble, and explanations were no use.

The people who wrong you know far better than you do how wronged you are.

So explaining is a waste of breath. It does nothing at all.

He picked up a split log and said, his face blank, “Get out.”

Ning Gan laughed coldly. “A bastard born of a mother and never taught by one. Crude, ill-mannered, rotten through.”

“I am your eldest brother. You steal my silver, and then you speak to me like that? Today I’ll teach you properly.”

“All of you. Give him something to remember. And search him for the silver he stole from me.”

The household men closed on Ning Chen with their clubs, murder in their faces.

Ning Chen said furiously, “You dogs. I may be out of favor, but I am still the Fourth Young Master of the Ning house. Lay a hand on me and think hard about what comes after.”

But today those words didn’t frighten them.

They were acting on the lady’s orders now.

And this Ning Chen was not the old Ning Chen, who lay still and let himself be carved up.

He threw it straight at them.

One of the men couldn’t get clear and took it in the chest, letting out a yelp.

Another hadn’t even reacted before a second log came flying and caught him across the head. Blood was running down his face on the spot.

Split logs flew, and the men kept giving ground. For the moment not one of them could get at him.

“You useless trash. Get in there. Get in there!“

Ning Mao screamed it at them, hopping with rage.

Uncle Chai was busy inside when he heard the noise, and came limping out.

He saw the men with their clubs closing on Ning Chen and panicked at once, shouting:

“What do you think you’re doing? He is the Fourth Young Master. You can’t treat him this way.”

Ning Mao took two quick strides over, kicked Uncle Chai to the ground, and set on him with fists and feet.

“You old dog. Very loyal to your master, aren’t you? Have you forgotten who your real master is?”

“That’ll teach you to bark. That’ll teach you to yap. Tomorrow I’ll have Mother throw you out of this house.”

He swore at him the whole time he was hitting him.

“Uncle Chai—”

Ning Chen’s heart was on fire and for one moment he lost focus. One of the men saw the opening, rushed him, and brought a club down on his leg.

Ning Chen’s leg buckled and he went down flat.

The trouble was that this body was too weak. His mind caught up, but the body couldn’t keep up with it. Otherwise he’d have dodged it easily.

Ning Gan bellowed, “Beat him! Beat him to death!”

The men swung their clubs down onto his thin body.

He covered his head with both arms and curled into a ball, and let the clubs come down on him like rain, and never made a sound.

“Move. Let me.”

Ning Mao left Uncle Chai and came toward Ning Chen.

The men stopped.

Ning Mao swaggered up, crouched down, and patted Ning Chen on the head. “Go on, Ning Chen. Be arrogant. Get up and chase me with a stick.”

Ning Chen caught his arm and bit down on it.

There was a sleeve in the way, and Ning Mao still felt it go straight through to the bone. He let out a scream like a pig on the block.

“What are you standing there for? Get him off!”

Ning Gan came to himself first and roared it.

The men scrambled, trying to pull the two of them apart.

But Ning Chen had gone at him like an animal, and he had that arm in his teeth and would not let go.

“First Young Master. We can’t get them apart.”

One of the men was sweating through his clothes.

“Useless. Beat him. Beat him until he lets go.”

They set on Ning Chen with fists and feet.

It took a long time before Ning Chen finally let go — because he had been beaten unconscious.

Ning Mao was shaking all over from the pain. He pulled up his sleeve and looked. The flesh of his arm had nearly come away, and the blood was running freely.

Lucky the sleeve had been there. Otherwise the piece would have come off.

“That bastard bit me. Beat him. Beat him to death.”

Ning Mao was raving like a mad dog.

The men were about to start again when Ning Gan stopped them.

“No more. Any more and there’ll be a death here. That would be hard to explain when Father gets back.”

“Strip the clothes off him. In the shape he’s in, he won’t last many days.”

The men set to it and pulled the new clothes off Ning Chen.

“First Young Master. Look at this.”

One of them had found the silver note.

Ning Gan took it and looked, and couldn’t hide his shock. “A hundred taels?”

Ning Mao leaned in for a look and cried out, “Where would that bastard get this much money?”

Something flickered in Ning Gan’s eyes, and greed came over his face. “Now that I think about it, it wasn’t five taels I lost. It was exactly a hundred.”

Ning Mao caught on. “Right. Big Brother lost a hundred taels. This bastard, stealing money inside his own household — death is too good for him.”

Ning Gan looked down at Ning Chen, lying unconscious on the ground in nothing but his underclothes, and gave a thin smile. “We’re leaving.”

They had just turned to go when they saw Ning Ziming coming in through the courtyard gate.

(End of Chapter 8)