As Yue Xiaochan read on, she found herself completely hooked, unable to put the pages down.
She desperately wanted to know what the swordsman would do next.
At the same time, the vivid descriptions left her utterly mortified, her face flushing as red as a cherry.
In that exact moment, she finally understood why Menglan had looked so flustered earlier.
Menglan must have blushed just like this, stealing glances at Xue Mu with eyes full of hidden passion, shifting between playful resentment and unspoken longing.
Meanwhile, Xue Mu kept writing furiously.
The story wasn’t long—if it were too long, people would lose interest.
In the finale, the swordsman’s enemies caught up to him.
Qianqian threw herself in harm’s way, taking a fatal sword strike meant for the swordsman.
Though the swordsman managed to slay his foe, Qianqian lay dying in his arms.
Summoning the last of her strength, she whispered, “This life is spent…
I only hope to serve you in the next, pure and unsullied.” To Xue Mu, this was just cheap, intentional melodrama.
But to Yue Xiaochan and Menglan, who were experiencing this kind of storytelling for the very first time, it hit like a truck.
Their noses wrinkled, and tears began to splash onto the floor.
“Xue Mu, you bastard!” “What?
What did I do?” “Why did you have to kill off Qianqian?!” “A tragedy is the only way to truly move people’s hearts,” Xue Mu replied.
“I don’t care!
You have to write her back to life!” Looking at Yue Xiaochan’s tear-rimmed, pouting face, Xue Mu couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Of course she’ll live.
Otherwise, how can our star courtesan Qianqian exist in the real world?” Yue Xiaochan froze for a second.
She exchanged a glance with Menglan.
It took both girls a moment of sniffing back tears to remember that this was all part of Xue Mu’s “Step Two.” Menglan asked cautiously, “How exactly are we going to use this story?” “This is what you call a native advertisement,” Xue Mu laughed.
“Didn’t you notice?
The setting is the Hundred Flowers Pavilion, and the protagonist is its star courtesan.
Once this story spreads, the Hundred Flowers Pavilion becomes famous, and so does Qianqian.
The key is whether the story can capture people’s hearts.
Judging by your reactions, I’d say we have a seventy to eighty percent chance of success.” It’s just like how the Shaolin Temple became so famous back home, he thought.
Who knows how much of that success actually belonged to wuxia novelists…
Yue Xiaochan was starting to catch on.
“So, you intentionally wrote those…
explicit scenes in such vivid detail…” “Exactly.” No matter the era, the world, or the culture, the fastest-spreading and most alluring content was always the erotic stuff—at least until people got sick of it.
It was simply human nature.
This was especially true in a world that neglected literature; if you wrote a profound, highbrow essay, nobody would read it.
But a piece of smut?
That guaranteed an audience.
Xue Mu left that last part unsaid, knowing Yue Xiaochan was smart enough to understand it on her own.
Given their upbringing, Yue Xiaochan and her peers had already seen erotic paintings and studied dual-cultivation arts.
Yet, even they were blushing at this tale.
Regular virgins and novices out in the world wouldn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell.
Xue Mu continued, “As for that complex, taboo dynamic in the text, it mirrors the actual background of the Hundred Flowers Pavilion, making the tale feel authentic.
Using a tragedy to evoke sympathy and sorrow is, in essence, a covert PR campaign.
When people mention the Hundred Flowers Pavilion or Qianqian from now on, they’ll think of a tragic, heartbreaking romance instead of just a brothel peddling fake smiles.
Later on, I’ll churn out a few more short stories.
Once the Hundred Flowers Pavilion becomes the absolute first thing people think of when anyone mentions a brothel, it will be impossible for you guys to lose money.” “So that’s the angle.” Yue Xiaochan’s gaze shifted once more as she looked at him.
She truly had no idea how this man’s brain was wired.
A single piece of writing contained so many layers of strategic calculation, and yet every single point made perfect sense.
Seeking guidance, she asked, “Should we take this to a bookstore now to get woodblocks carved for printing?” “No.
Have the girls hand-copy a few versions and give them out to every customer for free.
Given how starved this world is for good stories, I estimate it will spread naturally across the capital within three days.
There’s no need for us to print it ourselves.” Menglan was utterly filled with admiration.
“Please sign your name to it, Young Master.” To the people of this world, a signature was a massive deal.
Martial artists craved fame; making a name for oneself was the very first goal of anyone stepping into the martial world, and once famous, they guarded their reputation fiercely.
In Menglan’s eyes, such a brilliant story was more than enough to make him famous.
“My name?
No need.” Xue Mu waved his hand dismissively.
“This is to make the Hundred Flowers Pavilion famous, not me.” In reality, Xue Mu just felt that putting his name on a piece of smut was a bit trashy.
It wasn’t exactly the kind of prestige he wanted.
However, Menglan looked visibly moved by his words, and Yue Xiaochan’s eyes sparkled.
After a long pause, she spoke softly, “I know you’re not doing this for yourself.
But you should still sign it.
Otherwise, I refuse to use your story.” “Fine…” Xue Mu picked up his brush, pondered for a moment, and wrote down four characters: San Hao Xue Sheng (The Three-Loves Scholar Xue).
“Is that a moniker you came up with for yourself?” Yue Xiaochan asked curiously.
“What does it mean?
Which three loves?” “The character ‘Hao’ means to love or crave,” Xue Mu said, tossing his brush aside.
“I love plush breasts, I love long legs, and I love a slender waist.
People in the martial world call me the Three-Loves Scholar Xue.” “People in the martial world?
Is there anyone more shameless than you?” Yue Xiaochan burst out laughing.
She shot him a coy, lingering look and purred, “Are you really into that?
I couldn’t tell.” Xue Mu stared blankly at her flat chest, completely silent.
Yue Xiaochan covered her chest and fled in tears.
“Whatever!
Master’s are huge anyway!” Yue Xiaochan fled the room in tears, causing Xue Mu’s gaze to subconsciously drift over to Menglan.
Far from minding, Menglan proudly flaunted her exquisitely curved figure and shot him a sultry wink.
“Young Master…” “Yes?” “While I’d be more than happy to satisfy your three loves, I’m much more terrified of the Young Sect Master making my life a living hell.” Menglan chuckled as she gathered the manuscript, gliding gracefully toward the exit.
At the doorway, she glanced back with a teasing smile.
“I’d better get to work on our actual business.” She wasn’t using her charm arts this time, yet her natural allure was still utterly intoxicating.
Xue Mu, however, showed no outward reaction, merely offering a polite smile to wave her off.
A flicker of disappointment flashed through Menglan’s eyes before she turned to leave again.
Suddenly, Xue Mu called out to stop her.
“Has the Sect Master returned from The Six Gates yet?” “I’m not sure,” Menglan replied, blinking in surprise.
“Are you looking for her, Young Master?” Xue Mu simply pursed his lips and didn’t answer.
When all was said and done, the Star-Moon Sect was ruled by Xue Qingqiu through absolute martial might and unparalleled prestige.
Anything he wanted to accomplish required her stamp of approval.
If he could earn Xue Qingqiu’s trust the same way he had earned Yue Xiaochan’s, he could use the Star-Moon Sect as his ultimate launchpad.
With them backing him, the sky would be the limit.
Besides, he still harbored a few rather unspeakable, hidden desires…
Yue Xiaochan was far too young, and Menglan was just an external disciple with no real authority.
If—and this was a massive if—he could somehow manage to seduce Xue Qingqiu…
Right in the middle of his wild fantasies, a massive explosion erupted in the distance.
The ground trembled and shook violently, the shockwaves faintly reaching all the way to their location.
Menglan’s face instantly lost all color.
“That’s coming from the direction of The Six Gates!
Could the Sect Master be fighting someone?” Xue Mu couldn’t sit still either.
He rushed out the door alongside Menglan.
Reaching the entrance of the Hundred Flowers Pavilion, they spotted Yue Xiaochan holding onto their Martial Aunt Qingqing, frantically discussing something.
“What happened?” Xue Mu asked.
Yue Xiaochan turned around.
Seeing it was him, she let out a deeply annoyed huff, but explained anyway.
“The Six Gates refused to release our people.
Master lost her temper, smashed their outer jail to pieces, and let a few convicts escape.
She told them that for every day they refuse to release our people, she will tear down another one of their prisons.” Xue Mu stood there, completely dumbfounded.
Based on his previous understanding, the conflict between the Demonic Faction and the Righteous Sects was an open war, while they had seemingly reached some sort of truce with the Imperial Court.
Even if they actively opposed the government, it was supposed to happen in the shadows.
After all, they owned businesses right here in the capital; shouldn’t they avoid offending the authorities on the surface?
What was the meaning of launching a frontal assault on The Six Gates?
Did they not care about keeping their businesses open anymore?
Had he fundamentally misunderstood how this world worked?
A moment later, Xue Qingqiu drifted down from above like a literal immortal.
She tossed over a set of local constable uniforms with an entirely nonchalant expression.
“Chan’er, find one of the girls to change into this.
Tell our customers that starting today, we offer a Divine Constabulary roleplay option.” Xue Mu tucked his hands into his sleeves, staring speechlessly at Xue Qingqiu’s cool, unbothered demeanor.
I guess, he thought to himself, this is what a true big shot looks like…