The setting sun played upon the water, while the evening breeze carried a gentle warmth from the south.
The carved wooden windows were tightly shut, enclosing the boudoir of the pleasure house in a rich, seductive atmosphere.
A plump and graceful middle-aged woman, waving a red silk peony fan woven with fine threads, craned her neck and called out from behind the screen.
“Mei Wu, tonight is your debut. You must not be late.”
From behind the peach-blossom-pink screen came the sound of splashing water.
The silhouette of a young girl, with a slender waist and full hips, her figure perfectly proportioned, appeared vividly on the other side of the screen.
Mama Yue swallowed hard, the anxiety on her face gradually fading.
Even she, a madam accustomed to all kinds of allure, couldn’t help but clap her hands in admiration.
This flower, cultivated for eight years to attract wealth, was sure to bring in a fortune tonight.
The girl emerged slowly, draped in a light, gauzy robe, her fragrance lingering in the air, her youthful face delicate and charming.
“Mama, why the rush?”
Su Tan’s eyes curved like crescent moons, still misty with moisture after her bath, enchanting and lovely.
At the corner of her right eye was a crimson beauty mark, like red plum blossoms on white snow, captivating and soul-stirring.
She sat before the bronze mirror, allowing the maids to dry her long hair and apply her makeup.
The beauty in the mirror parted her red lips and said, “Besides, men must first be indulged before they are captured. Let them order more wine and tea—it won’t hurt you, Mama.”
Mama Yue paused her fan-waving, her eyes darting, then suddenly resumed with even more enthusiasm.
She walked to Su Tan’s side, took the girl’s tender hand, and smiled broadly. “Mei Wu speaks the truth. Mama hasn’t spoiled you for nothing.”
“Let them wait a little longer, and we’ll fetch a higher price for your first night.”
Su Tan looked up at her, her eyes and brows brimming with charm. “Of course. Mei Wu must repay Mama for the eight years of kindness.”
Kindness.
Indeed, what kindness.
Soaking in icy water cells in the dead of winter, needles piercing her skin, going days without food or water—these were common occurrences.
Her legs had been broken, her feet fractured, only to be reset and healed anew.
In the dead of night, she listened to the brothel keepers violate and abuse the girls, huddling in a corner with her ears covered, too afraid to close her eyes for entire nights.
Since the age of seven, Su Tan had endured it all.
Mama Yue’s eyelids twitched, her expression displeased but not erupting. Instead, she patted the back of Su Tan’s hand meaningfully and heavily.
“As long as you understand, girl.”
She glared at the attending maid, her voice vicious. “You worthless wench, be quick with your hands and feet!”
The maid trembled and replied, “Yes.”
With that, Mama Yue swayed her plump waist, fanning herself with her right hand while her left hand fiddled with the jewels adorning her hair, striding out with great satisfaction.
A little temptress, no matter how fierce, had still been tamed into obedience by her.
If it weren’t for that face and that body, so utterly captivating, she would have long been thrown into the darkest corners of the brothel.
The title of courtesan was prestigious, and the price for her was high.
But in the end, starting tonight, she was nothing more than a lowly plaything, to be ridden by thousands and slept with by tens of thousands.
With a loud “bang,” the door slammed shut.
Outside in the corridor, a girl couldn’t contain her mix of joy and jealousy. “Mama Yue, a distinguished guest has arrived downstairs. You must hurry to greet him.”
“Have the young noblemen from the capital all come?”
“More than that, it’s…” The voice lowered as if whispering.
Then, Mama Yue exclaimed twice in surprise, her footsteps hurried. “Quick, quick, everyone, go attend to them!”
“Prepare the finest wine and tea!”
The commotion was as if all the gods and buddhas had descended.
Inside the room.
The beauty in the bronze mirror remained expressionless, a cold detachment surfacing beneath her radiant exterior. Her slender, pale fingers resting on her knees slowly clenched.
“I’ll apply the lip rouge myself. You may leave.”
“Yes.”
As dusk deepened, the streets of Yongchang Lane bustled with crowds, the lantern lights flickering in the twilight.
In the Fragrant Pavilion, red silks hung high, shadows of people moved about, and the sounds of pipes and strings filled the air.
The white-robed qin master, elegant and refined, sat quietly on one side of the high platform, playing the qin with serene detachment, as if removed from the mundane world.
Patrons who had arrived early were gathered in small groups in the hall, each with lightly veiled, thinly dressed girls nestled in their arms, yet their eyes curiously and repeatedly drifted toward the staircase entrance.
“Tonight, we finally get to witness the grace of Miss Mei Wu!”
“Ah, we can only look from afar, I hear the bidding starts at five hundred gold.”
“Five hundred gold!”
The lean merchant widened his eyes and clicked his tongue.
He was merely an out-of-town goods trader, having earned only a hundred gold from this trip, and had come tonight to broaden his horizons.
It seemed he wouldn’t even get close enough to touch the hem of the beauty’s skirt.
It was said that the Fragrant Pavilion was a renowned den of extravagance in the capital, and indeed, the reputation was well-deserved.
A pink-skirted girl attending to the guests lifted the wine pot to pour, her voice soft and tinged with envy: “For Miss Mei Wu’s first night, the young masters are practically fighting over it.”
Several followed her gaze toward the curtained private booth.
There, a man in a dark cyan brocade robe slowly fanned himself with a folding fan, affecting an air of sophistication, though his appearance was portly, with a round face and thick neck.
The Lin family were imperial merchants; not to mention five hundred gold, even a thousand gold would be nothing to them.
There were also dandy young masters in lavish silk robes, gathered in twos and threes, indulgent and unrestrained, eagerly awaiting who would become the first to share the flower maiden’s intimate company.
The merchant inwardly clicked his tongue, sighing at the difficulty of winning such a beauty, while envying the wealthy and powerful who could fulfill any desire with their riches.
“Hey, who is that in the innermost private booth?”
He looked toward the farthest corner.
Every table and private booth in the pavilion was packed, bustling with a lively crowd.
Only that spot had its curtains drawn low, tightly concealing what lay within.
Another green-skirted attendant girl pointed upward and lowered her voice: “That’s not someone we should speak of.”
The seasoned and tactful patrons immediately fell silent.
Inside the curtained private booth.
Two young men, one in blue and the other in black, sat facing each other, while the purple-robed gentleman in the host’s seat leaned casually against the carved railing.
His posture was languid, carrying a hint of playful irreverence.
His fingers were distinct and slender as jade, with prominent veins on the back of his hand, making the white porcelain cup he toyed with seem almost inadequate by comparison.
The blue-robed gentleman, refined and courteous, looked at him with a gentle smile: “You’ve only recently returned to the capital, and with the Emperor’s favor at its peak.”
“Yet you dare to come to this den of pleasure—aren’t you afraid those old pedants will seize the chance to impeach you?”
Hearing this, the purple-robed gentleman curled his lips into a faint smile and replied nonchalantly: “Impeach me?”
He took a small sip of wine and raised his eyes.
“I’d welcome it.”
The man’s brow arches were high, exuding an air of unyielding pride.
His eyes were long and deep, and after drinking, a dormant sharpness lurked within their unrestrained depth.
When he lifted his gaze to look at someone, the corners of his eyes tilted slightly upward, the curve perfectly restrained.
The sharpness in his eyes dissolved into shimmering fragments, captivating and stirring the heart.
With such striking looks, even after years away from the capital, he still secretly captured the hearts of noble ladies.
Many had waited for his return, stubbornly refusing to marry anyone else.
The black-robed man to his left drained his cup and laughed heartily, chiming in: “Naturally, Xiu Wang has no fear of those old fools.”
He then shifted the topic, set down his cup, and leaned in with his ruggedly handsome face to scrutinize him.
“But after eight years stationed in Yong City, how is it you haven’t developed even a hint of a general’s commanding presence?”
He remained just like the carefree and unrestrained young marquis of old, who especially loved listening to music, admiring flowers, riding horses, and savoring tea.
And he had grown even more strikingly handsome.
The harshness of the frontier had not worn away the innate pride in his bones; instead, it had only intensified.
Shen Xiuwang leaned back against the carved railing, his long brows slightly raised. “Cheng Yue, you’re not a maiden. Why stand so close? This Military Governor has no interest in you whatsoever.”
He teased further, “Besides, which law of Great Wei dictates that a general must be stern and ruthless to be worthy of the title?”
Cheng Yue scoffed in annoyance, retorting, “Oh, the Grand Commandant is truly remarkable, hiding his depths so well.”
Shen Xiuwang spread his long legs slightly, exuding an air of triumphant superiority.
“Naturally.”
The blue-robed man, Qi Qingheng, burst into laughter. “Haha, you two have been bickering since childhood. Even I find it exhausting.”
After the jest, Qi Qingheng composed his expression. “Xiuwang, your visit here tonight surely has a purpose.”
As soon as he finished speaking.
The flirtatious clamor outside gradually faded, replaced by gasps of astonishment, sighs of admiration, and expressions of longing.
A melodious zither note drifted through the air, heralding the arrival of a beauty.
All three turned their gazes outward.
Through the curtain, the high stage in the flower hall was clearly visible, where a stunning figure stood like a graceful silhouette. The maiden resembled a tender sprout on a soft spring night.
Her presence stirred a gentle flutter in the heart.
Shen Xiuwang held a cup in his right hand, his thin lips brushing its rim. After draining it in one go, he smirked lightly. “Not bad.”
Whether this was a response to Qi Qingheng or not remained unclear.