Chapter Thirty-Three: The Little Princess of the Jiang Dynasty

[Master, that was so scary just now! No matter how I called, you couldn’t hear me!]
“It’s all right now. This zither has quite a temper.”
[Master!]
Jiang Jiu touched the strings with her fingertips, and hearing the little imp’s anxious voice, couldn’t help but smile. “Just now, by accident, we formed a contract. Now it no longer rejects me.”

With a gentle flick of her finger, a bamboo leaf drifted down from above, and as it met the blade of sound, it was deftly split in two, fluttering down as twin halves.

[Master, this phoenix wood body and thousand-year ice-silk strings—what a masterpiece!]
“Indeed. Since the zither now acknowledges me as its master, it shall serve as my weapon from now on.”

In her previous life, she never had a weapon that truly suited her; she had simply learned to wield a variety of cold weapons. Now fate had made her the master of an ancient zither, but given its quality, she would grudgingly accept it.

[Master, shall we give it a name?]
“Phoenix, phoenix, reborn from the ashes… Let’s call it Nirvana.”
[What a fine name! Phoenix’s Nirvana, rebirth through fire—how magnificent!]
“Nirvana!”

A resonant note thrummed in response, making Jiang Jiu even more satisfied. A weapon that understood its master’s will—such a bond would make it easier for the instrument to develop a spirit in the future.

When weapon and master are of one mind, their combined power is doubled.

[Master, it’s getting late. We should return to the palace.]
“Mm, let’s go.”

With a thought, Jiang Jiu sent Nirvana into her storage space to keep the little imp company.

Leaving the State Preceptor’s residence, Jiang Jiu did not immediately return to the palace, but instead headed toward Drunken Fragrance Pavilion.

Night was about to fall, and Drunken Fragrance Pavilion was bustling with people. Without solid proof, a steady stream of people continued to flow in and out of the establishment.

After a quick disguise, a dashing and handsome young gentleman appeared out of thin air on the street in front of the pavilion.

A number of women, clad in bright and revealing attire, waved their handkerchiefs, their bodies dusted with fragrant powder, faces adorned with makeup—some heavy, some light—and their smiles alluring and coquettish.

Many a man was entranced, stepping willingly into this place notorious for devouring men whole.

Jiang Jiu conjured a folding fan, and, mimicking the airs of a rakish young lord, strolled nonchalantly up to the entrance.

“Oh! What a handsome young master! Care to come in and spend a spring night with me?”

A woman in red caught up the thread, swaying her willow-like waist:
“Come, young master, come inside. My sisters and I will see that you are well tended to!”

Jiang Jiu smiled, draped both arms around the women’s shoulders, and lowered her voice:
“Very well, then. You two ladies can keep me company for a good time.”

Upon entering Drunken Fragrance Pavilion, the lavish décor immediately caught the eye: red gauze draped from the ceiling, a rain of petals cascading down, and pearl curtains separating the main hall.

A matron, dressed in red and swaying her hips, minced up to Jiang Jiu with a fawning smile:
“A glance tells me this young master is extraordinary. Dieyi and Zijuanner here are two of our very best girls!”

Dieyi and Zijuanner hid their faces behind their handkerchiefs, feigning shyness.

Jiang Jiu lazily tossed a pouch of silver into the matron’s hand. “A private room. I do not wish to be disturbed.”

The matron’s smile stretched from ear to ear at the sight of the silver. She immediately offered the finest suite, and before Jiang Jiu went upstairs, she leaned close and whispered in Jiang Jiu’s ear:
“You have fine taste, young master. Dieyi and Zijuanner are the best we have!”

Jiang Jiu paused for a heartbeat, her ears flushing red. She replied politely, “Mm,” then, with both ladies in tow, hurried upstairs to the suite.

[Master, why are you at Drunken Fragrance Pavilion—with two ladies, no less?!]
[Silence. I have business to attend to!]

The little imp was stupefied. No way, no way… Hastily quelling its dangerous thoughts, it fell silent.

Once inside the suite, Jiang Jiu shut the door firmly behind her and sat in a chair, sipping tea.

It was the first time Dieyi and Zijuanner had seen such a guest—one who, upon entering, simply sat and drank tea—leaving them uncertain and hesitant by the door.

“Ladies, do either of you play an instrument? Would you do me the honor of performing a piece?”

Though puzzled, the two complied with the guest’s wishes, as was their duty.

Dieyi picked up a pipa from the side, and Zijuanner began to dance in time with its melody.

When the song ended, Zijuanner pretended to trip and fell into Jiang Jiu’s arms. Jiang Jiu made no reaction—after all, she herself was a woman.

Zijuanner flashed a seductive smile and reached out to tease her. But as her hand landed on Jiang Jiu’s chest, she suddenly sat bolt upright, struggling free from Jiang Jiu’s embrace.

That sensation just now—there was no mistaking it, a woman’s body! The person before her was a woman!

“Miss! This is no place for a lady! I suggest you return to where you came from!”

Dieyi stared in shock at Zijuanner’s words, unable to believe the handsome young master before her was actually a woman. She asked in disbelief, “Sister Juan, she’s a girl?!”

Zijuanner, flustered, exclaimed, “Dieyi, go and fetch Madam Chen! There’s a woman masquerading as a man in here!”

Snapping to her senses, Dieyi rushed to open the door, but Jiang Jiu had no intention of letting them sound the alarm. With a casual gesture, she formed a seal, and a small barrier enveloped the suite, blocking all sound from within.

Dieyi crashed headlong into the invisible barrier, leaving her forehead swollen and red.

Clutching her throbbing forehead, Dieyi glared. “You’re a spirit cultivator? Why would a spirit cultivator leave the mountains to come here?”

Jiang Jiu propped her face lazily on one hand. “So many questions—which one should I answer first, I wonder…?”

Dieyi pointed at Jiang Jiu, about to lose her temper, but Zijuanner held her back.

Zijuanner took a step forward. “Miss, our Drunken Fragrance Pavilion and your spirit cultivators have always kept to our own paths. Please, spare the two of us.”

Jiang Jiu sat up straighter, her fingertips tapping rhythmically on the table.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

“Sister Juan, look at her! She’s going too far!”

“Don’t be rash! We can’t afford to anger a spirit cultivator—don’t forget…” Zijuanner mouthed something silently, and Dieyi, subdued, obediently stood behind her.

Thud… thud…

Jiang Jiu ceased her tapping. “What are you two whispering about? Why not let me in on the secret?”

Zijuanner clamped her mouth shut.

“Oh, your mouths are sealed now? No matter—I have plenty of ways to make you talk…”

[Little imp, do you have any truth-telling pills? Give me two.]

[Sure thing, Master! Truth Pills—one is all you need, and the effect is guaranteed!]

With the pills in hand, Jiang Jiu instantly appeared before Dieyi and Zijuanner and forced them to swallow the medicine.

They choked and coughed, jabbing their fingers down their throats in a desperate attempt to vomit the pills out.

“No use struggling. The medicine has already dissolved.”

Dieyi glared murderously, still clawing at her throat until her face flushed red, but managed only to spit up some saliva. “What poison have you given us? Are spirit cultivators so despicable?!”

Jiang Jiu laughed at her indignation. Who said spirit cultivators couldn’t resort to trickery or underhanded moves? If that were true, why would the world of cultivation have assassins? It was laughable—but not entirely false.

“Relax, the medicine will kick in shortly. You’ll see for yourselves.”

Jiang Jiu’s nonchalance drove Dieyi almost mad, but she was utterly helpless to resist.