“Pei Tan, that brat, is nothing more than this.”
Indulging in wine and women—after all, he was young, and it hadn’t taken long before he gave in. The speaker’s face carried a faint, smug expression.
Zong Chuke’s voice was cold and sinister: “You think that is Pei Tan’s true nature?”
The man immediately restrained himself: “This humble one only meant that my lord has already exhausted himself over your son’s matter, and now must also be distracted by that brat. Is he truly worth your concern?”
This man was the very one who had schemed to help Zong Huo escape, now seeking to curry favor with Zong Chuke and secure his own position in court.
Zong Chuke was silent for a long time before asking: “Where is Huo’er now?”
The adviser, sharp-eyed, stepped forward: “Surely Young Master Huo has already escaped safely. Once he reaches his destination, he will certainly send word of his safety.”
According to the plan made with the loyal death warriors protecting Zong Huo, he should have already reached the designated town by now.
But the adviser also knew Zong Huo’s nature—lustful, lazy, indulgent. Once freed from Chang’an, he was like a fish in the sea. The death warriors could not force him to march day and night.
Zong Chuke’s expression darkened again, his gaze pressing like a blade:
“If that brat’s intentions are not pure, why would he deliberately act in such ways? What is he plotting?”
To Zong Chuke, Pei Tan would always be the man who nearly forced his son to death. No matter how others relaxed their guard, he never could.
“In fact, regarding this matter…” the adviser’s eyes gleamed, “Chancellor Wei himself has spoken. He believes Pei Tan’s literary and strategic talents are unmatched among the Pei clan’s sons. Now, as Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, his skill in solving cases even faintly rivals Judge Di.”
Judge Di. Those two characters alone could stir the hearts of all Tang citizens. Di Renjie had become the very soul of the Tang dynasty. And for Wei Xuanzhen, usually aloof and reserved, to compare young Pei Tan to Judge Di—Zong Chuke’s arms trembled, his face dark as ink.
The adviser bowed his head and added after a pause: “But Chancellor Wei also said that these past two days, Pei Tan has remained at Zuiqing Pavilion. In full view of all, even if he had Judge Di’s ability, he could not possibly be searching for Young Master Huo at the same time.”
In other words, Pei Tan truly did not know Zong Huo was still alive.
Zong Chuke’s fingers rolled a string of prayer beads. To outsiders, he remained the grieving Minister of War, mourning his son. He could not show a crack in his facade. One bead after another clicked under his fingers.
Zong Chuke still relied on the Wei family. Last time, they had not saved his son. This time, Wei Xuanzhen’s words were at least meant to soothe him.
But Zong Chuke was no benevolent man.
Darkness flickered in his eyes. He clenched the beads tightly: “Prepare. I must enter the palace. After so many years of service to the Wei family, they should at least grant me some demands.”
Jing Wan’er lifted her gaze to the sign of Zuiqing Pavilion, a faint smile in her eyes. She removed her veil and stepped forward, revealing a carefully arranged face. She passed lightly before the two attendants at the door:
“Gentlemen, please announce me.”
The doormen already found her strange. Women passing a brothel’s entrance usually avoided it. Yet this girl seemed unafraid of tainting her reputation by approaching such a place.
Jing Wan’er lifted the cloth covering her basket, revealing a sealed jar of wine: “Lord Pei Tan ordered a jar of wine from our Wangyue Tavern. I’ve brought it to him.”
The two attendants exchanged wary glances: “Our pavilion has countless wines. Why would Lord Pei need to buy from outside? Besides these past two days, Lord Pei has not touched a drop of wine.”
Indeed, it was suspicious. Except for the time Wei Xuanzhen had visited, Pei Tan had drunk only tea inside Zuiqing Pavilion.
Jing Wan’er’s eyes flickered, but her expression remained calm, her lips curved: “Whether Lord Pei ordered our wine or not, you need only go inside and ask him directly. Then all will be clear.”
Pei Tan’s status was undeniable. The attendants of Zuiqing Pavilion dared not risk offending him.
One of the attendants frowned and barked: “How dare you! Lord Pei is inside drinking with the courtesan. How could some stranger suddenly appear and disturb him with a single word?”
Yet they still hesitated. Jing Wan’er looked at them both, then, after a long pause smiled faintly: “Then there’s no helping it. If you truly cannot make an exception, I can only tell my master that the wine could not be delivered. He will have to apologize to Lord Pei himself.”
Saying this, she made as if to leave, reaching to cover the wine jar in her basket.
“Wait,” another attendant spoke after some hesitation. “Is it truly Lord Pei who asked you to deliver wine?”
Jing Wan’er turned back with a quiet smile: “I already said—just go inside and announce it to Lord Pei. That will be enough.”
This way, they bore no responsibility. A single word from Pei Tan would resolve the matter.
The attendant studied her deeply for a moment, then turned to his companion: “I’ll go announce it. You, keep an eye on this girl. If Lord Pei says it’s false…”
The warning and threat were obvious.
To run a brothel in Chang’an—especially one as renowned as Zuiqing Pavilion—meant having hidden methods and powerful patrons among the high-ranking officials.
Jing Wan’er stopped in place: “Please be sure to tell Lord Pei that this wine was sent from Wangyue Tavern, as agreed…” She smiled at the attendant who had gone inside.
The remaining attendant glared at her darkly. Jing Wan’er, carrying her basket, stood calmly, waiting. She had no fear of fleeing; she had come to see Pei Tan. If she left without meeting him, it would be a loss.
For Jing Wan’er, Pei Tan being at Zuiqing Pavilion was perfect. If he were still at the Court, how could she possibly meet him?
Her thoughts wavered as she noticed the attendant at the door glaring at her with hostility.
The messenger seemed to be taking too long. She wondered—had something gone wrong? But surely, after hearing “Wangyue Tavern,” Pei Tan would understand.
Another half a moment passed, still no response. Jing Wan’er’s expression grew tense. The attendant at the door, coldly watching her, placed his hand on the hilt of his knife.
Jing Wan’er tightened her grip on the basket handle. If necessary, she would have to run.
Suddenly—thump! Someone rushed out from inside. It was the messenger, pushing past the revelers on the first floor to reach the door.
Jing Wan’er looked at him. His expression was cold: “Lord Pei said, if you wish, you may leave the wine and depart.”
Jing Wan’er’s eyes flickered. What did that mean—*if she wished*, leave the wine and go?
She thought for a long moment, then said slowly: “This wine is sealed in a special way. I must explain it to Lord Pei in person.”
The attendant stared at her for a moment. She had gambled correctly—he did not stop her. He stepped aside and said coldly: “Go in. Lord Pei is in the first private room on the third floor, left turn.”
Jing Wan’er secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Carrying the basket, she went upstairs. Though she kept her head lowered, many people noticed her immediately.
In brothels, only men ever entered from the street. One vulgar guest jeered: “Hey, this little beauty—is she new here?”
But the attendant at the door said coldly: “She belongs to the household of a distinguished guest on the third floor.”
At those words, no one on the first floor dared jeer again. The third floor was reserved for officials of the third rank and above; anyone connected with them—even a maid—was not someone ordinary guests would risk provoking.
Jing Wan’er ascended the stairs smoothly. Almost at once, the noise of the first floor seemed like the sound of another world. From the second floor upward, Zuiqing Pavilion grew quiet and serene. She glanced toward the third floor, where one door stood slightly ajar.
A brothel was not always a filthy den of lust; those were the lowly establishments. The noble officials of the court came to such places not to leer at women like the hungry beasts downstairs, but for refined diversions.
After steadying herself, Jing Wan’er pushed the door open and entered.
Unexpectedly, only Pei Tan was inside. There were no songs, no music, no imagined beauties surrounding him. He sat alone at the table, and when the door opened, he looked directly at her. “What are you here for?” he asked calmly.
Jing Wan’er still held the wine basket she had used as a pretense. She looked at him and said softly: “My lord.”
“Come in and close the door,” Pei Tan instructed.
She obeyed, stepping inside. Setting the basket down at her feet, she freed her hands and slowly shut the door.
After a moment, she turned: “My lord, Wan’er has something she must tell you.”
Pei Tan looked at her, his expression unchanged.
She walked closer. Earlier, when he had told her to leave the wine and go, it was out of concern that her identity might be exposed—or perhaps because he thought she had nothing urgent to say.
Pei Tan spoke in a low voice: “Many of those in Zuiqing Pavilion are nobles of Chang’an who have frequented the palace. Do you realize that appearing here is entirely different from being at Wangyue Tavern?”
That was why he had not summoned her earlier. As Jing Wan’er herself had said, at Wangyue Tavern no one would ever recognize a palace maid’s face. But here, under the eyes of Zuiqing Pavilion, she was far less safe.
Jing Wan’er lowered her head for a long time before saying: “Wan’er understands. I did not come to trouble you without thought. Today’s visit was carefully considered.”
Pei Tan gazed at her steadily: “Then speak. What was your consideration?”
Jing Wan’er slowly raised her head. Her pure and graceful bearing—despite years in the palace—had not dimmed the elegance of a daughter of the Jing clan. Pei Tan’s concern was not misplaced. Not only the men downstairs, but anyone at all would notice her at a glance.