Volume Two: A Season of Tumult, Full of Twists and Turns Chapter Ninety-Eight: The Refined Scholar and the Enchanting Courtesan

Chen San lay sprawled on the bed in the private chamber of the Winter Plum establishment, eyes half-closed, nearly asleep. Outside in the long corridor, the laughter and chatter of passersby drifted in and out, lulling him into drowsiness.

Suddenly, the sycophantic laughter of the madam, accompanied by heavy footsteps, entered the room. Chen San bolted upright, hastily tidying his garments and the bedding.

At the moment the madam opened the door, a reluctant yet powerless expression flickered across Chen San's face. The madam nodded approvingly.

She sat beside him and whispered, “From now on, you shall be called Dong’er. Mother cares for you and has found a refined gentleman for you. Serve him well. For your first time, mother gives you a generous red envelope. Be good.”

With that, she drew a red packet wrapped in paper from her sleeve, placed it into Chen San’s hand while stroking it gently.

Though it contained only two copper coins, Chen San, having done nothing, accepted them, lowering his head in quiet joy.

The madam turned to the official who had entered with her, flicked her fan coquettishly, and said, “Sir, please be gentle with our Dong’er. She is inexperienced. If there is anything amiss, I hope you will be understanding.” With that, she closed the door and left.

The official, a burly man with a large sword slung at his side, bore a fierce countenance. His eyes reddened as he glanced at Chen San, stroking his stubbly chin, licking his lips, and advancing.

Chen San still looked down, foolishly grinning at the red packet in his hand.

“Beauty, they say your name is Dong’er. Raise your head so this gentleman may behold your lovely face.”

Suddenly, the large hand lifted Chen San’s chin; startled and stunned, Chen San froze. Seeing this official, he became even more dazed.

Indeed, the madam cared only for silver, not appearances. This was no refined gentleman. His face was covered with rough stubble, his brow furrowed fiercely, and his broad, muscular frame seemed overwhelming—two Chen Sans could not match his weight.

In that instant, those two copper coins felt worthless. Chen San thought that if other girls met such a “refined” gentleman, they might lose half their lives.

Frowning, Chen San leaned back, panting.

“Sir, I am a bit afraid. Could you please put your sword on the table?”

“Oh, such a beauty! Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. I care for you.” He set the large sword on the table and hastily started removing his clothes.

Suddenly, Chen San was startled, sprang up, pressed close, and took out the yellow talisman given by Yang Chengzi, sticking it onto the official’s chest before exhaling in relief.

Afterward, the official kissed and touched, doing all that should and shouldn’t be done.

Chen San pulled down the curtain, sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, furrowing his brow. Staring at this bear-like fat man, going up and down, he was utterly dumbfounded. With such a big belly, he was surprisingly vigorous—Chen San was impressed.

Fearing eavesdroppers, Chen San had Wan’er cooperate with a few struggling sounds. If it weren’t for her weak body, she might have slapped Chen San a few times, coldly replying, “You do your own calling, you pervert.”

Chen San rolled his eyes, muttering, “Isn’t it because we’re afraid the madam is listening outside? Fine, I’ll do it myself.” Then, mimicking the moans from the neighboring room, he began calling out, sultry and incessant.

Wan’er, full of disbelief, nearly concluded that Chen San must have been a top courtesan in his previous life—if not the star, then certainly a renowned beauty, unparalleled among women. Why else would a man be so innately seductive? It was rare indeed.

After several rounds of passion and exertion, Chen San, sensing deeply with his cultivation, found nothing unusual. At last, the official stopped and lay on the bed, panting heavily.

“Dong’er, you truly are the most delightful beauty I’ve encountered since arriving at the Tianxiang Courtesan House. Once I’ve saved enough silver, I’ll redeem you. Such a beauty should be mine alone. Tonight, I return to my smelly old wife at home, but there’s time ahead. Here’s your reward, and let me kiss you once more.”

From beside the pillow, he produced a purse, took out a piece of silver, and Chen San eagerly caught it.

No doubt, this official was a true gentleman—more generous than the madam, who dealt only in copper.

The official smiled contentedly, rose, lifted the curtain, and dressed.

Chen San’s eyes sparkled as he held the silver—this was hard-earned.

Wan’er, already convinced of Chen San’s past as a courtesan, grew even more certain seeing his joy, and looked at him with disdain.

The performance had to continue. The official finished dressing and tidied his attire.

Chen San peeked from behind the curtain, eyes bewitching, coy yet joyful.

“Sir, please come again. Dong’er will be waiting for you.”

Shyly, he slipped back under the curtain. Wan’er was disgusted, the goosebumps rising on her scalp, but she and Chen San were becoming increasingly synchronized, almost as if one soul inhabited two bodies.

Meanwhile, in the Spring Orchid establishment’s private chamber, Yang Chengzi sat cross-legged on the bed, sensing the surroundings. The strange thing was the demon aura here was scattered, intermittent, faint—how had it so befuddled his mind before?

Before his doubts could be resolved, laughter from the madam sounded outside.

“Chun’er, mother is coming in! A graceful young gentleman wishes to see you.”

Yang Chengzi was puzzled. Who was Chun’er? Was she speaking to him? It seemed the madam was addressing someone inside.

Whether or not, better sit properly first; sitting cross-legged like this and being seen would be troublesome to explain. Best to avoid unnecessary complications.

He sat upright by the bed, his crimson silk gown covering his ankles. His restless hands found no proper place to rest.

Just then, Yang Chengzi (Wen) began to smooth her hair, her nervous expression easing.

“Chun’er? Mother’s coming in?”

With a creak, the door opened. The madam entered, followed by a scholar-like young man.

“Chun’er, mother called you. Didn’t you hear? Come greet the gentleman.”

Shyly, Yang Chengzi (Wen) lowered her head, took a few small steps, and held the madam’s hand softly.

“Mother, Chun’er has just arrived here and has much to learn. If there is anything amiss, please teach me.” She turned her face aside, even more bashful.

The madam patted her hand happily.

“Good girl. Having someone as sensible as you is a blessing for Tianxiang Courtesan House. Here is a red envelope—keep it safe. Now, come, don’t keep the gentleman waiting. Go greet him properly.”

Yang Chengzi (Wen) turned to look at the gentleman the madam mentioned—a refined young scholar indeed.

He was well-mannered and handsome, but she wondered why such a scholar would come to a place like this.

“Sir, Chun’er greets you and apologizes for any earlier neglect,” she said, bowing slightly.

The scholar smiled, returning the gesture. “You are so courteous. This is my first visit to this place of pleasure, and to find such bright eyes and radiant beauty here is as if stepping into a painting. Truly, as the poem says: ‘Fish sink, birds alight, startled; flowers shy, the moon hides, trembling in sorrow.’”

“Sir, with such literary talent and charm, might I accompany you to chat about poetry and the seasons, while enjoying some fine wine to enliven the evening?”

The scholar’s refined manner marked him apart from common men. Yang Chengzi (Wen) spoke just the right words to touch his heart.

Cheerfully, he instructed the madam, “Bring us good wine and delicacies. Tonight, I shall compose poetry and share laughter with Chun’er. Please do not disturb us unless necessary, so as not to spoil the mood.” He readily produced silver coins.

The madam’s face lit up at the sight of the silver—today was indeed fortuitous. Effortlessly, these wealthy men proved generous. She resolved to treat these two treasures well, then withdrew to prepare their feast.

After several drinks, poetry, and joyous conversation, Yang Chengzi (Wen) handled it all with ease.

Yang Chengzi pondered that if a female wandering spirit had been summoned, someone not a courtesan in life, she might not manage such situations as well as Wenliang did. The scholar drank cup after cup, unburdening his troubled heart. It was clear he had found a kindred spirit.

As the wine flowed, the scholar, named Luo Shiqiu, grew more talkative and less restrained. He was from a family of some means but without connections, having just failed the imperial exams, burdened with frustration.

Ten years of study could not match the advantage of privileged sons. Seeking solace, he wandered until reaching the gates of Tianxiang Courtesan House.

His gloom was palpable, but the madam—skilled in reading people—quickly discerned his troubles. With a few words, she coaxed him inside. Sharing his bitterness with Yang Chengzi (Wen) brought him comfort.

The bright moon hung high, its light spilling through the window. Though the street outside still bustled, the night was deep, and the gathering of yin energy should have made the demon aura easier to find. First, they had to subdue him.

Yang Chengzi (Wen) gently took Luo Shiqiu’s hand. “Sir, the night is deep. Allow me to serve you to bed. Such a fine time and enchanting moonlight would be wasted otherwise.”

Luo Shiqiu, single-minded in his ambitions and innocent of worldly matters, could hardly resist such a graceful and talented companion.

Yang Chengzi (Wen) slipped beside the bed, lowered the curtain, and Luo Shiqiu, eyes reddened, staggered inside.

Afterward, Yang Chengzi paid him no mind, sitting cross-legged at the bed’s foot, focusing on sensing the demon aura.

After several bouts of passion and tender moments, Luo Shiqiu collapsed into exhausted sleep. Yet Yang Chengzi found no clue. Though the yin energy was said to intensify late at night, the demon aura was no stronger than during the day.

By day, the aura was faint but present; now, it seemed as if the demons were asleep. Yang Chengzi frowned, troubled. He could not return to Changyu’s side, unsure if she faced danger.

Birdsong heralded dawn as sunlight flooded the room. Noise and clamor rose again.

Chen San had enjoyed an undisturbed night, while Yang Chengzi suffered restless vigil beside Luo Shiqiu, unable to sleep, chanting spells through the night.

Regardless, he had infiltrated the place and survived the first night. If no mishaps occurred, finding the demon within the brothel would bring relief.

He wondered where the problem lay. The faint and elusive demon aura clearly meant a creature lurked within Tianxiang Courtesan House. The weak energy suggested no great demon, but how could a lesser spirit be so secretive as to evade even a Maoshan master? Surely, some detail had been missed.

A knock came at the door. A maid brought breakfast and fresh clothes. Luo Shiqiu and Yang Chengzi (Wen) ate together before bidding farewell.

After washing up, Yang Chengzi wished to stroll, but the maid said the madam would soon arrive to settle accounts, so she must stay inside.

Obediently, Yang Chengzi opened the window for fresh air, gazing at the elegant scene outside.

Before him lay the Three Immortals Mountain, dressed in perpetual spring’s blossoms, the early morning mist weaving a mesmerizing tapestry. Nearby stood the drum tower and opera stage, resplendent with flowers. Such beauty, yet seen from a brothel window, made Yang Chengzi sigh.

Watching the bustling crowd, he recalled Changyu’s question by the stream, lost in reflection.

Once more, a knock sounded.

“Chun’er, mother is here. Are you up? Dong’er has come to see you too.”

Dong’er? He called himself Chun’er? Could it be that Chen San was Dong’er?

“Up. Mother, come in. I just bathed and changed clothes, opened the window to air the room.”

With a creak, the door opened. The madam entered, fanning herself, smiling brightly. Behind her followed a shy, coquettish young woman, face veiled by a gauzy scarf.

The madam took Yang Chengzi’s hand, and the three sat down.

“I don’t know why you come so early,” Yang Chengzi (Wen) shyly asked. “Did I do something wrong yesterday?”

The madam waved her fan dismissively, forbidding such talk.

“Nonsense. You two are far more obedient than the others. Yesterday’s two guests were very pleased, even gave extra silver on their way out. They said they’ll be back again.”

The madam placed silver coins in Yang Chengzi’s hand.

“Here, this is what you earned. You won’t starve here. You have beautiful clothes and delicacies. Use this silver to buy what you like. Women shouldn’t treat themselves poorly.”

Grateful, Yang Chengzi accepted the money.

The veiled young woman’s eyes sparkled at the silver in Yang Chengzi’s palm. Who else but Chen San could she be? She had been wondering who Dong’er was.

After a few words, the madam departed, leaving Chen San and Yang Chengzi to whisper together. Early morning was the only quiet time in the brothel.

“Take it off, take it off! You walk twisting this way and that. Who can’t recognize you? And still covering with thin gauze—who are you fooling?”

“Hehe, you recognized me? You really can read people!”

“What’s there to read? You’re almost a head taller than the madam. Who wouldn’t know?”

“Well? Am I pretty? Could I be the top courtesan here? I heard her name is Qian’er. She’s seductive to the bone. No man can resist.”

Yang Chengzi frowned, looking at Chen San with disdain. “What? You’re not going to Puxian Temple anymore? Changed your mind to be the top courtesan here? Can you have some ambition?” Then he smacked Chen San’s head, nearly sending the hairpin flying.

Chen San, equally disdainful, smoothed his hair with mock seriousness.

“Why are you so stubborn? Don’t you need money for the journey? Going to fortune-tellers? Being a pimp on the street is worse than being the top courtesan here. You don’t even have to work. Are you stupid? Are you stupid? Annoying.”

He flicked Yang Chengzi’s shoulder mischievously. The overly effeminate “Annoying!” nearly made Yang Chengzi draw his sword. Yet Chen San’s words had some truth. Earning more now meant no need to beg later.

Downstairs, the madam sat at the account desk, clicking her abacus. The pimp stroked her hand, leering.

“Should we keep an eye on those two? Aren’t they too obedient?”

The madam smiled slyly, confident all was under control.

“No need. Women must learn about men. Maybe they even like it. With so many watching, two weak girls can only obey. As long as the guests pay, that’s all that matters. As long as they don’t escape, everything else is manageable.”

“They can’t get out. I told the servants. Today Chun’er tried to leave but was stopped. Now she’s behaving. If needed, I’ll be stricter. These two girls are delicate and rare in the brothel.” She licked her lips.

“True. That official never spends money, always complaining. Not pretty enough, not entertaining enough… a real pain. But after Dong’er served him yesterday, he was a changed man. Gave silver and said he’d come back.”

“An official? He gave silver? That bully?”

“Yes, a little—just some small silver. Still, he gave. If he’s willing to pay, no need to watch them so closely. They’re harmless.”

“What about Chun’er? Did the guest like her?”

“I gave her silver before I left the room. Wouldn’t you say he was satisfied? Compared to Dong’er, Chun’er knows poetry and song better. Scholars and literati love that. Tianxiang Courtesan House needs girls who can recite poetry and sing, dance and enchant.”

“Hehe, you say that and I feel tempted... Such slippery hands...”

Before the pimp finished, the madam waved him away, brushing off his hand.

“Get lost! Early in the morning and already feeling lustful? Believe it or not, I’ll break it off. Doors open for guests soon; mind your business and move along.”

Receiving no further benefit, the pimp wisely departed.