A respectable young lady from an official’s family had become a cour…
The mist had yet to lift on this early spring morning.
It was still too early for the shops along the street to open, but several street sweepers were already at work, sprinkling water and sweeping the roads.
Dust and crushed flower petals were swept together into heaps along the roadside.
One of the sweepers suddenly bent down and plucked half a pearl hairpin from the debris. After a hurried glance around, he slipped it into his sleeve, secretly delighted by his good fortune.
Yesterday, the newly chosen Flower Queen of Nanxun Pavilion had paraded through the streets in magnificent style. Sweets, candied fruits, silk flowers, and copper coins had been tossed into the crowds in untold quantities, drawing people from every corner of the capital to scramble for them. It had been a major event in the city.
Unfortunately, he had arrived too late to pick up anything. Nor had he been fortunate enough to catch even a glimpse of the beauty said to rival a heavenly immortal.
At the thought, he raised his head toward Nanxun Pavilion.
The building stood five stories tall. On the side facing the street, the windows of the second and third floors were open, and figures occasionally passed behind them. Higher up, however, the building was veiled in thin mist. Every window was tightly shut, and nothing could be seen within.
The sweeper withdrew his envious gaze and returned to his work.
Whatever else might be said, a place like this was far beyond the reach of someone like him.
Just as he looked away, Mingzhu reached the third floor.
Her hair was half undone, her ornaments sat slightly askew, and her makeup was less carefully applied than it had been the night before.
A folded silk stole hung carelessly over the crook of her arm as she climbed the stairs, exhaustion written across her face.
At the turn of the staircase, she paused. Finding the air rather stifling, she pushed open one of the small windows on the third floor.
The cool morning mist seeped inside, sending a shiver across the delicate, pale skin of her forearm.
She drew a deep breath and continued upward, dragging her leaden limbs all the way to the fifth floor.
The door to her room stood ajar.
Someone was clearly inside.
Mingzhu frowned. Silently, she pushed the door open a little farther and leaned in.
A young woman was furtively reaching for the wine Mingzhu had left on the table.
Unfortunately, this particular “thief” had none of a thief’s caution.
Mingzhu had already come up behind her by the time she quietly asked what she was doing.
The girl shrieked in fright, stumbled backward several steps, and fell to the floor.
Mingzhu reacted swiftly, steadying the silver wine pot that was about to topple from the dressing table.
“What are you doing in my room?”
Chili’s eyes went round. Caught red-handed, she immediately turned the accusation around.
“Why didn’t you make a sound? You nearly frightened me to death!”
Mingzhu put the wine pot into a cabinet, locked it, then sat down at her dressing table to remove her makeup.
“Why should I make a sound when I’m entering my own room?”
Chili scrambled to her feet, gritting her teeth.
The room was furnished with quiet elegance.
Pale gauze curtains surrounded a soft, fragrant bed. A charm for peace and protection hung from a golden hook. By the window, a flourishing orchid rested on a tall stand. A work of painting or calligraphy by a renowned master adorned the adjoining wall, beneath which stood a writing desk furnished with a guqin, a complete set of writing implements, and several ancient texts.
At first glance, who would have thought this was the room of a courtesan and entertainer?
It looked far more like the private chamber of a wealthy family’s cherished daughter.
Who was she trying to impress with all these airs of refinement?
Chili cast a sour glance at the two large boxes of gold, silver, jade, pearls, and coral on Mingzhu’s dressing table.
And these were merely the gifts sent by powerful officials and wealthy young gentlemen yesterday.
Most of the presents had already been packed into trunks and delivered to Madam Wang.
That woman was probably so delighted she hadn’t slept a wink all night.
“You must be awfully pleased with yourself after stealing the limelight yesterday, aren’t you? From now on, you’ll be Nanxun Pavilion’s leading courtesan. Forget the rest of us—even Madam Wang will probably have to watch your moods!”
Mingzhu said nothing.
She continued removing her hair ornaments at an unhurried pace.
Her indifference only made Chili angrier, and her voice rose.
“You’ve fooled everyone! I’m going to expose you!”
Mingzhu pressed a finger to her temple.
All that shouting was giving her a headache.
“What exactly have I lied about?”
“You’ve made everyone outside believe you’re accomplished in the four arts—music, chess, calligraphy, and painting! You’ve convinced them you’re some great talented lady, but the truth is…”
Chili rushed over to the writing desk, snatched up a book, and slammed it down again.
“The truth is, you never read, never play the guqin, and never paint! You’re just taking advantage of the fact that the other girls here can’t read!”
“When the rest of us paint our brows and color our lips, you insist on going without makeup.”
“When we put on beautiful dresses, you insist on dressing plainly.”
She hurried over to the incense burner and lifted its lid.
“Even this is different! The rest of us burn floral and fruity incense, but you have to use these horribly bitter herbs! I hate the smell!”
By now, Mingzhu had let down her hair.
Her long black tresses spilled all the way to the floor, sleek and lustrous as the finest silk.
Strangely, with the cosmetics wiped away, her brows and eyes seemed only more striking.
“This is Qingyue Incense, a blend I made myself. Its fragrance isn’t cloying. It begins bitter, turns sweet, and leaves a lingering scent that’s light and gentle. It also has a mildly calming effect. Those who like to make a show of refinement are especially fond of it. If you want some, I can give you a little.”
“I don’t want anything from you!”
“Then you may leave. I’m tired.”
Mingzhu set down her ivory comb, swept her long hair behind her back, and gave a soft yawn.
The establishments in the pleasure quarters opened from evening into the night. She had been awake all night, and her exhaustion was becoming unbearable.
“I—I haven’t finished talking!”
“Then take your time.”
Before Chili could open her mouth again, Mingzhu had already gone to lie down.
She reclined on her side behind the gauze curtains, her figure outlined in graceful, alluring curves. Even Chili couldn’t help looking twice before remembering what she had meant to say.
Fuming, she swept aside the bed curtains.
“Every girl in this pavilion has to drink with the guests! Even those who can’t hold their liquor are forced to learn by Madam Wang. Otherwise, they get beaten or scolded. So why should you be the exception? You can obviously drink! You even keep a whole pot hidden away. I saw it myself!”
Mingzhu kept her eyes closed.
Her long lashes cast shadows that blended with the faint bluish circles beneath her eyes.
“Not just anyone is entitled to drink my wine. It’s for the distinguished guest who comes to me on my first night. Two taels of gold per pot. Madam Wang knows about it too.”
According to Nanxun Pavilion’s longstanding custom, the newly chosen Flower Queen’s first night would be auctioned off on the third day after her selection.
It was not merely a matter of the highest bidder winning. The auction was also a contest of influence and power, conducted within the pleasure quarters.
Naturally, the entire affair took place in secret. Everyone understood the arrangement without ever speaking of it openly, and most officials in the capital would never appear in person.
After all, the laws of the Great Yu Dynasty expressly forbade officials from consorting with prostitutes.
Thus, as far as the outside world was concerned, Nanxun Pavilion was simply an elegant establishment where guests could enjoy tea and wine while discussing poetry and scholarly subjects.
No matter how wealthy a man might be, he was welcome to come in for a pot of tea.
But if he wished to go any further, his connections and influence would determine what doors opened to him.
Men might squander fortunes merely to win a courtesan’s smile.
As for ordinary people, they could not even hope to lay eyes on the Flower Queen.
Mingzhu decided to tease Chili a little.
The corner of her mouth lifted, and she spoke as though the thought had only just occurred to her.
“I hear Lord Ji will be coming the day after tomorrow.”
Ji Yuan was a fifth-rank official, an esteemed patron of Nanxun Pavilion, and one of Chili’s longstanding benefactors.
Before Mingzhu arrived, he had intended to support Chili’s bid to become Flower Queen.
At those words, Chili nearly jumped out of her skin, like a cat with its fur standing on end.
“Lord Ji would never do that to me!”
Yet she couldn’t help remembering how Lord Ji had once praised Mingzhu right in front of her, calling her something like “a fairy among the clouds, a secluded orchid in a mountain valley.”
Her eyes reddened with anger.
“I hate you!”
With that, she stormed out and slammed the door.
Mingzhu opened her eyes.
Her body was still terribly weary, but Chili had chased away half her drowsiness.
She rose to replenish the incense, then opened the cabinet to inspect the wine once more.
The pot was made entirely of silver, its surface intricately engraved with a scene of the Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea. Every figure was so lifelike that even the finest strands of hair were rendered in exquisite detail.
Leaving aside the wine itself, the vessel alone was a rare treasure.
Mingzhu lifted the lid and peered through the narrow opening.
The wine was clear and bright, golden in color.
But two herb leaves floated conspicuously within it.
She had put them there herself.
Chili had been right about one thing.
Mingzhu was a woman who knew how to get what she wanted.
Many people would be coming the day after tomorrow.
And her target was Ling Jing, the Minister of Justice, whose power and influence at court were currently at their height.
Until now, she had met this second-rank official only once.
He had listened from behind a curtain as she played Guangling San on the guqin.
As he was leaving, he had drawn aside the beaded curtain, and their eyes had met.
“Well played,” he had remarked before departing.
He was a man of average height and unremarkable appearance, but his gaze was piercing, his presence so intimidating that Mingzhu had been too frightened to meet his eyes directly.
No wonder he was the man in charge of the imperial prison, she thought.
Afterward, however, she received a guqin of exceptional quality.
She suspected it had been a gift from Minister Ling.
So he was a man who appreciated the guqin and its music.
An idea had immediately taken root in her mind.
After all, if she wanted her father’s case reopened and his innocence established, her only hope lay with the newly appointed Minister Ling.
Thin curls of smoke rose from the incense burner, carrying a faint, clean bitterness through the room.
Drowsiness overtook Mingzhu once more.
She put the wine away and returned to bed, her black hair spilling down around her, her pale cheeks touched with a delicate flush.
For a long while, she gazed at the protective charm.
Then, in the full light of day, she turned onto her side, buried almost her entire face in the soft pillow, and gradually drifted to sleep.
Mingzhu dreamed of her mother.
But in the dream, her mother said nothing.
She merely sat beside the bed, weeping silently.
Mingzhu knew why she was crying.
For her husband, who had died unjustly.
For her young son, banished to a distant land.
And for…
Her poor, ill-fated daughter.
By the time Mingzhu woke, it was already afternoon.
She sat up in a daze and raised a hand to wipe the tears from the corners of her eyes.
After taking a moment to collect herself, she called for someone to attend her.
Two young maids entered to help her wash and dress, then brought her something to eat.
Before long, Madam Wang, the brothel’s madam, came to visit.
She stayed for a while, showering Mingzhu with praise before handing her a list of distinguished guests expected that evening, telling her to consider which ones she wished to receive.
Mingzhu acknowledged her instructions.
For all its outward elegance, Nanxun Pavilion was still engaged in a business that could not bear the light of day.
Its patrons were either wealthy or powerful, each one a source of riches whom no one could afford to offend.
Maintaining their favor was also how the women of the pavilion survived.
The women who had fallen into the pleasure quarters, Mingzhu included, all had tragic stories when one traced their lives back to the beginning.
For a woman to have someone pay for her freedom, remove her name from the register of the lowly, marry her, and treat her well afterward—that was already the very best fate she could hope for.
Most remained in the pavilion until their beauty faded and visitors stopped coming. Then they were sold off, disappearing into obscurity, with no one left to care what became of them.
When her father had served as magistrate of Songqing County, he had repeatedly tried to shut down the brothels within the city.
Not only had he failed, but complaints had been lodged against him with the prefectural authorities, earning him a reprimand from his superiors.
Her father had spent his life working diligently and honestly, never taking so much as a dishonest coin.
But he had been far too upright, too stubborn and unyielding.
No matter how highly the local people praised him, no matter how deeply they appreciated his service, he was never given an opportunity for promotion.
In the end, he had been falsely implicated in a major criminal case and died unjustly in prison.
Her younger brother, only ten years old at the time, had been exiled to Lingzhou.
Their mother, already frail and frequently ill, had been devastated by the tragedy.
She had died with tears in her eyes.
And now, in the blink of an eye, five years had passed.
Five years.
Mingzhu had journeyed from Songqing County to the capital.
And from the capital, she had entered Nanxun Pavilion.
A respectable, innocent young lady from an official’s household had become a refined courtesan in a brothel.
Slanting sunlight spilled through the window lattice.
Someone knocked several times on the door.
Mingzhu returned to her senses.
“Come in.”
A young servant boy, barely into his teens, pushed open the door.
Both hands were laden with parcels, and his face was all smiles.
“Sister Mingzhu, I’m back!”
He set down the packages with practiced ease and began checking them one by one.
“All the medicinal ingredients are here. Chinese spikenard, sandalwood, mint… The shopkeeper said they’re all excellent quality too, though I wouldn’t know about that. Have a look, Sister Mingzhu. If he’s cheated me, I’ll go straight back and settle accounts with him!”
Mingzhu smiled and patiently began sorting through the herbs.
Her mother had suffered from poor health for years, and Mingzhu had learned some medicine while caring for her.
She was hardly an expert, but what she knew was enough for her purposes.
“And there’s all this too.”
Xiao Jiu’s movements became noticeably more careful.
He gently took out several brocade boxes from his bundle, opened them one by one, and arranged them on the table.
There were seals, teacups, an intricately pierced silver incense sachet, silk instrument strings, and other objects.
Xiao Jiu couldn’t identify most of them.
He had simply handed Mingzhu’s shopping list to the proprietors of various antique, jade, and other specialty shops, checked that the quantities were correct, and brought everything back.
Mingzhu examined the items carefully.
Satisfied, she nodded and handed him two taels of silver.
“Thank you for your trouble. Buy yourself something nice to eat.”
Xiao Jiu beamed.
He was just about to thank her when her expression grew serious and she added, “No drinking. And no gambling.”
He scratched his head sheepishly.
“I only drank twice, and I only gambled once…”
Mingzhu said nothing more and went on putting things away.
Xiao Jiu hurriedly withdrew.
He had barely taken a few steps when someone suddenly grabbed him and dragged him into another room.
“Ow!”
He looked up and recognized the person.
“Sister Chili!”
Chili released him and returned to the bronze mirror to apply her face powder.
“What did Mingzhu make you buy for her this time? You’re forever running errands for her. I suppose the rest of us don’t even exist in your eyes anymore.”
Xiao Jiu grinned.
“I’m happy to run errands for any of you sisters. Is there anything you’d like me to buy, Sister Chili? I heard Jiaoyue Tower has a new rouge out. Thirty-six taels of silver for one box! If you want some, I can go get it right now.”
Chili gave a disdainful little snort.
Pride crept into her expression as she tapped a lacquered fingernail against the lid of a rouge box on her dressing table, producing a crisp click.
“Lord Ji gave me this. It’s the kind of rouge the ladies in the imperial palace are wearing these days. Who would want anything from Jiaoyue Tower?”
But the mention of Lord Ji reminded her of Mingzhu’s provocation.
Her expression darkened, and she gave another irritated snort.
“Mingzhu doesn’t have anything like this, does she?”
Xiao Jiu shook his head.
Then, unable to help himself, he added, “Sister Chili, Sister Mingzhu is a very good person. She’s kind to everyone. You really don’t have to be jealous of her. You’re beautiful, and she’s also—”
“Xiao Jiu!” Chili snapped furiously. “Get out of here, now!”
Like a slippery little loach, Xiao Jiu immediately ducked his head and slipped away.
Still seething, Chili went to shut the door.
Just then, a melody drifted unexpectedly from Mingzhu’s room.
The notes of a guqin flowed like running water, cool and crystalline, as pleasing to the ear as birdsong echoing through a forest.
And for no reason she could explain, some of the anger in Chili’s heart quietly dissipated.