Chapter Thirty-Six: An Auspicious Visitor Approaches

In ancient times, Yu the Great passed his own doorstep three times without entering, so devoted was he to taming the floods. Now, there is the hungry ghost of lust, Feng Jingshe, third son of the Feng family, lingering before the door of Scarlet Sleeves, hesitating and finally turning away.

Such a scene, for this famed entertainment house in Chang’an, was hardly worth notice. Yet, it so happened that Feng Jingshe’s departure was observed entirely by someone behind a certain window on the second floor.

Snap—

An exquisitely crafted, expensive oxbone fan broke in two, and the person sharing the room could not help but feel the moment was somewhat out of control.

“He’s nothing but a minor character, insignificant to the grand scheme—why is it that every time, he unsettles your mind so?” The speaker was an elderly woman, at least so she appeared: wrinkled countenance, hair streaked with gray, skin dull and lifeless, the very image of twilight years. Yet, seated on a round stool, her back was straight and slender, her waist narrow enough to be encircled with a hand, her chest proud, rivaling even Su Hongluan herself. Of course, she ought to be addressed as Su Hongluan now.

“That damned lecher! Every time I see him, my blood boils. It’s not even dusk, and he’s already so eager to seek pleasure among flowers and willows! Disgusting, base—he’d best not cross my path again, or I’ll surely make him regret it…”

Remembering how this man had tried to publicly force himself upon her in court, Su Hongluan could not quell her furious indignation. Coupled with the incessant tune ringing in her ears these days, she feared she would go mad if she didn’t vent her frustration soon.

“‘Slow, Slow Song!’ Again, it’s ‘Slow, Slow Song!’ Are those people downstairs not tired of it yet? Those nonsensical lines, sung for nearly two months now—will they never stop?”

The familiar, irritating melody drifted up from below. Su Hongluan pressed her hands tightly to her ears, nearly burying her head in the ground.

“Take your hands away! With such a temperament, how can you be expected to complete the task? If your heart is so easily disturbed, all these years of cultivation have been wasted!”

The old woman slammed her palm on the table; at once, fine cracks spread across its surface. Her raspy voice was like a sharp awl, piercing Su Hongluan and sending cold sweat down her spine.

“Tower—Tower Mistress… I don’t usually act like this… It’s just that Feng…”

“Silence! A mediocre Feng Jingshe, a simple little tune, and you’re agitated to this extent? Do you realize how much has been invested behind this mission, by the entire Green Robe Tower?”

Berated, Su Hongluan dared not show a hint of temper, and her agitation swiftly subsided.

The seductive, fox-like charm returned to her face; she was once again the bewitching Su Hongluan, the foremost courtesan of Chang’an.

“I don’t care what means you use, but you must obtain the invitation from Minister Chen Tongnian of the Ministry of War for the seventh day of the seventh month.”

“Rest assured, I shall not fail in my duty…” Su Hongluan’s eyes fluttered flirtatiously, her smile faint.

“To avoid exposure and complications, from today until the day of the mission, we shall not meet again. As for a new song, I will see to it that you get one…”

Hearing this last remark, Su Hongluan was startled. When she wished to ask further, the elderly woman had already vanished from the room…

With light steps, the distance between Warm Jade Pavilion and Scarlet Sleeves was merely from one end of the street to the other. Unexpectedly, the bustle before Warm Jade Pavilion was no less than that at Scarlet Sleeves.

To Feng Jingshe, business seemed even more prosperous. As he and his companion stepped inside, the madam greeting guests instantly brightened. She could recognize Feng Jingshe even if he turned to ashes; indeed, Warm Jade Pavilion owed much of its thriving business to him.

Whenever he composed a simple tune, it elevated their girls to the status of uncrowned queens of Chang’an. Though Meng Xiaodie lacked the official title of top courtesan, none dared claim she was not the first.

“Oh my… Now I know why the magpies have been chattering on the rooftop all day! They were reminding me that a distinguished guest would arrive tonight!”

The madam shouted and hurried over, waving her silk handkerchief so fast it left a blur.

“Do you know me, Madam?”

“Of course, of course, I know you all too well! Third Young Master Feng graces us with his presence; Warm Jade Pavilion is honored beyond measure. Please, come inside, quickly—please!”

Feng Jingshe scratched his head, thinking how many membership cards one must buy to receive such treatment! In truth, he had misunderstood; her extraordinary courtesy meant she had something to ask of him.

All the invitations sent, whether from Warm Jade Pavilion or in Meng Xiaodie’s own name, had vanished without a trace. “Slow, Slow Song” was lovely, but after two months, even the sweetest tune grows stale.

Thus Warm Jade Pavilion, or rather Meng Xiaodie, desperately needed a new song to secure her status as Chang’an’s uncrowned queen. Tonight, Feng Jingshe’s arrival was not merely that of a patron, but more valuable than gold.

“Haha… Madam Flower, I wonder if Miss Xiaodie is free tonight?”

“Of course, of course, she is! Young Master Sun, you may not know, but our Xiaodie has been longing for Third Young Master Feng, watching the door day and night!”

Ignoring the sidelong glances of other patrons, the madam took Feng Jingshe’s arm and personally led him toward the inner courtyard. The curses from nearby were simply dismissed as so much hot air.

A winding corridor connected the outer and inner courts, passing through a spacious garden. Paths branched off toward various rooms, and from time to time, drums and music could be heard from within.

A few dozen steps further, passing by a certain chamber, strange cries—sometimes shrill, sometimes low—echoed out.

“My word, starting business this early!” Feng Jingshe muttered inwardly, then skirted a small pond, where moonlight revealed a figure standing in the corridor.

Little Dou had just finished bathing her mistress, and upon seeing Flower Madam leading Feng Jingshe in their direction, she grew so excited she covered her mouth, then ran for the pavilion, shouting as she went.

“Miss… Miss… Feng… Feng…”

The carved wooden door burst open, startling Meng Xiaodie as she set down her eyebrow brush.

“What’s gotten into you, girl? If you trip, so much the better!” Meng Xiaodie feigned annoyance, but her skin, fresh from the bath, glowed rosy and soft like a newly shelled egg.

“Miss… Miss… It’s Young Master Feng… Flower Madam is bringing him here…”

“Ah… Who? Who did you say?”

“Miss, it’s the one you dream of night and day, Feng Jingshe… Third Young Master Feng! Flower Madam has brought him to the door!”

Only then did Meng Xiaodie recover from her surprise, and immediately leaned over the bronze mirror.

“Quick, Dou, bring me my jade hairpin… And that new dress from two days ago…”

The two women fussed about in a flurry, all to greet Feng Jingshe in their most beautiful attire.

As for those originally scheduled to be seen tonight, whether inside or out, they were all forgotten, banished to the farthest corners of memory…