“Madam Fang? Madam Fang?”
A plump woman banged frantically on the door of a narrow wine shop tucked away at the end of the alley.
“Madam Fang, are you awake?”
“Don’t bother calling,” said another woman nearby, a tofu seller. “She hasn’t opened for three days now.”
“What? Oh no, what do I do? I ordered wine from her six months ago for my daughter’s wedding banquet — it’s the day after tomorrow!”
The tofu-seller frowned, puzzled as well. “That’s strange. Madam Fang’s always been the most diligent person in this street. She opens before dawn and doesn’t close till late at night. Every day, without fail. But now that you mention it… yes, I haven’t seen her open for several days either. I wonder if something happened.”
“Oh heavens! What should I do!” The plump woman slapped her thigh in distress. “Without her wine, how can I host the wedding feast?”
The tofu-seller sighed helplessly. “Maybe you should find another supplier for now. I’ll keep an eye out these next few days. If I see her, I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you, thank you! I owe you one. Ah — and I’ll take some tofu while I’m here.”
“Come in, come in. Take a look—”
“Madam, I heard the neighbors say Madam Fang hasn’t opened her shop in three days. Are you sure we should be out like this? If Mama finds out, she’ll scold us!”
A young girl in a light blue dress quickened her steps to catch up with the woman ahead of her — a lady dressed in gauzy pink silk, her inner layer a crimson blouse embroidered with golden peonies so vivid they seemed to bloom through the fabric. Every step she took was elegant, graceful, mesmerizing.
“Don’t worry, Mama won’t punish you,” the woman said lazily, her voice soft and honeyed.
The girl in blue huffed in frustration but didn’t argue.
“Linchun? Linchun?”
More knocking echoed through the alley, drawing the tofu-seller’s attention again.
She leaned out of her stall — but the moment she saw the pink-clad woman, her expression turned sour. The woman’s beauty drew every man’s gaze; her posture alone seemed to intoxicate them.
The tofu-seller spat. “Hmph, Madam Fang’s not here.”
The woman in pink smiled sweetly, unfazed by the hostility. “Sister, do you know where Linchun might have gone?”
As she spoke, her young companion took out a few silver coins to place on the tofu stand.
But the tofu-seller’s face twisted. She shoved the coins away. “Get out of here! I don’t want your filthy money dirtying my tofu!”
“You—!” The young girl’s eyes reddened, glaring angrily but unable to find words.
“You what? Get lost!” the tofu-seller snapped. “Shameless wench! You should stay in your brothel instead of parading around and fouling decent people’s eyes! I’m letting you off easy by not chasing you out with a broom!”
The girl’s eyes filled with tears. She looked at the woman beside her, silently pleading to leave.
“Let’s just go, Madam. We can send someone tonight to bring a message to Madam Fang.”
“No,” the pink-clad woman said firmly, shaking her head. “My right eyelid’s been twitching for three days. My heart’s uneasy. I have to see Linchun myself — or I won’t be at peace.”
The young girl bit her lip and cried quietly, trembling from all the judgmental stares aimed their way.
“Alright, alright, don’t cry,” the woman soothed, wiping her tears gently. “I’ll buy you something nice to eat later, alright?”
“But the shop’s locked. How will you see her?”
“That’s easy.” The woman took a key from her sleeve and unlocked the wine shop door.
“What are you doing!?” the tofu-seller shrieked, her watchful eyes catching every move. Her shout drew the whole street’s attention. “In broad daylight — you two shameless hussies! Trying to steal, are you!?”
The pink-clad woman’s smile faded slightly, though her tone remained polite. “You misunderstand, madam. Madam Fang gave me this key. I’m not here to steal anything.”
“Lies!” the tofu-seller barked. “You must have stolen it from her to rob the place while she’s away!”
A middle-aged man from a nearby stall stepped forward, puffing his chest self-righteously — though his narrow eyes roamed over the women’s figures.
The woman’s expression turned cold. Without another word, she pushed the door open and went inside.
Neighbors craned their necks, eager for a show.
Then—
“Ahhhh!!!”
A piercing scream ripped through the air.
“AAAAAAH!”
The girl in blue — Qingyan — stumbled out, pale as a ghost, shaking all over. She pointed at the shop, her lips quivering. “D–dead… someone’s dead…”
“Madam Fang is dead!”
“LINCHUN!!!”
The woman in pink — her name Peony — stumbled out after her, eyes wide, face drained of all color.
“Madam, please — please, call the authorities! Hurry!” she cried, rushing to the tofu-seller, all composure gone.
Then she turned and ran back inside, wild with grief.
“Linchun!”
“Madam, you’re having nightmares again!”
Qingyan hurried into the room at the sound of muffled cries. Pulling back the bed curtain, she found Peony drenched in sweat, eyes bloodshot.
“Qingyan… Linchun’s still alive, isn’t she?” Peony clutched her arm tightly, her gaze feverish.
Qingyan froze, frightened. She tried to gently pry her hand away, whispering, “Madam Fang has passed away… Mama said you must prepare to entertain Lord He tonight…”
Her words blurred. Peony’s eyes went vacant; she slumped back against the cushions, unhearing.
Moments later, a knock sounded outside.
“Miss Peony, Mama says Lord He wishes you to join him at the garden tonight.”
Qingyan glanced nervously at her mistress, who remained motionless. She called back quickly, “Thank you, Sister Zijuan! We’ll be ready soon!”
“Hmph! Putting on airs just because a noble favors you,” came the muttered reply before footsteps retreated.
Peony’s face was deathly pale, her exhaustion etched deep. Suddenly she sat up, gripping Qingyan’s hand. “Today… is it Linchun’s funeral?”
“Ah? Y-yes.”
“Help me dress,” she said hoarsely. “I must see her one last time.”
“Madam, you can’t! Mama won’t allow it — and the neighbors won’t let women from the brothel attend the funeral!”
Peony said nothing.
Qingyan bit her lip, tears pooling in her eyes. Unable to dissuade her mistress, she left quietly to give her space.
Peony lifted her head slowly. The tears on her pale cheeks had dried into faint trails.
She took out the clothes she had prepared long ago and dressed herself. When no one was watching, she slipped out.
Ten miles of street — she had never run so fast in her life.
In the brothel, she was always the picture of grace — elegant, composed, untouchable. But now she ran barefoot and frantic, hair disheveled, eyes swollen.
Linchun had no family in this world. Peony was the only one who had ever treated her like kin. If she didn’t go to send her off… Linchun would leave this world utterly alone.
The funeral had been arranged by Linchun’s neighbors. Peony had secretly sent money to ensure she’d be buried in a fine coffin, in the best cemetery they could find.
Paper money fluttered in the wind. Peony slowed her steps, her legs trembling with exhaustion, each step heavier than the last.
The tofu-seller spotted her disheveled figure and scowled. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see her off,” Peony said softly, voice breaking as her eyes fixed on the approaching coffin.
The tofu-seller looked ready to lash out again, but another woman stopped her. “Don’t cause trouble on a day of mourning.”
The tofu-seller huffed and turned away — only to catch a few leering men staring at Peony from afar, their hungry eyes roaming.
“What are you looking at, you filthy dogs! I’ll gouge your eyes out!” she shouted.
The men turned away, muttering curses.
Just as the burial began, a commotion rose at the back of the crowd.
“Isn’t that the girl from Yichun House? What’s she doing here?”
They turned to see a slender, elegant figure approaching — Peony’s madam’s servant, the brothel keeper himself following behind.
“Apologies, everyone,” the brothel keeper said smoothly. “I’m just here to take someone home.” He clasped his hands toward the coffin. “Please forgive the interruption.”
Then his eyes hardened. “Peony. Will you come quietly, or must I drag you?”
“…”
“Please,” Peony said quietly, “just let me stay — let me send her off.”
“Enough,” he hissed, gripping her arm tightly. “Don’t make a scene. Lord He is expecting you tonight. If he hears you disgraced yourself here, Yichun House will suffer — and you know what that means.”
Her shoulders sagged. “…Alright. I’ll go. Just… let me bow to her once.”
He released her with a warning glare. “Be quick.”
Peony knelt by the coffin, ignoring the murmurs around her.
“Thank you… for saving me.”
“Thank you for never despising me, even as a courtesan.”
With each word, she lowered her head and struck it against the ground.
“Enough!” the brothel keeper barked, motioning for the guards. “She’ll ruin her face!”
“Your wine was always the best…”
“Linchun… let’s be sisters again in the next life.”
Summoning the last of her strength, Peony pulled free from their grip and pressed her forehead against the coffin one final time.
Thud.
The coffin was sealed.
And from that moment on, there was no more Fang Linchun in this world.
“Come on, drink! Drink!”
“Cheers!”
“Brother Gu, you’re a generous man!”
The man they called Brother Gu had flushed cheeks and a dazed smile, swaying slightly as he lifted his cup.
“Say, where’d you get all this fine wine? You never used to share!” one of his drinking buddies teased.
Another, dressed in green, clapped him on the back. “Hey now, don’t insult Brother Gu! He’s the future top scholar’s cousin — show some respect!”
Then he promptly poured himself another full bowl.
“Ha! So much for moral speech!”
“Ha ha ha!”
“Wait,” a man in a white robe squinted into the distance. “Do you guys see that? Something red…”
“What, you’re drunk already?”
“No, really — it’s a woman!”
“Impossible!”
“Look! A woman — and with quite the figure!”
Everyone turned to look.
Indeed, a graceful silhouette moved faintly in the mist, seemingly carrying something heavy.
“It’s so late… who would be out here now?”
They were drinking in the lakeside pavilion. The surrounding streets were silent.
A chill crept over them. One man’s hand trembled as he whispered—
“Could it be… a ghost woman?”