In June, White Jade City was like a giant steamer, simmering every living creature within.
The sun beat down mercilessly on the bluestone streets, sending up shimmering heat waves that distorted the very air, twisting the faces of every living thing caught in its glare.
Shop banners on both sides of the street drooped listlessly. Even the hardiest stray dogs lay in the mud beside the gutters, their scarlet tongues lolling as they panted, their muzzles wrinkled in discomfort.
The air was thick with the smell of baked dust, soured slop, and a putrid stench of dead fish drifting from the city moat, forcing anyone who caught a whiff to cover their nose.
Only at night could the city finally take a breath and relax, if only for a little while.
However, Fengyue Street, on the east side of the Imperial City, was another world entirely, one where day and night were reversed.
The bustle here stood in stark contrast to the dead silence of the rest of White Jade City, as if all the city’s vitality and desire had converged upon this single, brightly lit avenue.
Yixiang Building was the undisputed crown jewel of Fengyue Street and one of the most renowned brothels in all of White Jade City.
The five-story building was a marvel of upturned eaves, intricate brackets, and exquisitely carved beams. Glazed Wind Chimes hanging from its corners tinkled melodically in the night breeze, their sound crisp and delightful.
Dozens of huge red gauze lanterns, each as tall as a man, hung outside the building. They bathed the street in a light as bright as day, illuminating every detail of the greedy, intoxicated expressions on the faces of the patrons passing by.
The music of strings and flutes, the coquettish laughter of women, the shouts of men playing drinking games, the clinking of cups... These sounds mingled into a raucous, licentious wave of noise that surged from the open doors and ornate windows, crashing against the night.
Yet inside Jile Pavilion, the most secluded private room on the top floor of Yixiang Building, the scene was entirely different. Doors and windows were shut tight and curtains drawn low, sealing it off from the clamor below. It was like another world.
Expensive Dragon Saliva Fragrance burned within, its scent cloyingly sweet and so thick it was almost tangible.
A thick Persian Carpet covered the floor, muffling every footstep into complete silence.
Several Erotic Paintings with delicate brushwork and vibrant colors hung on the walls. The men and women within were depicted in a variety of provocative poses, explicit enough to make a proper lady blush crimson.
The display cabinet held no Antiques or calligraphy. Instead, it was filled with ingeniously shaped objects of ambiguous purpose, like Jade Positions and Mr. Jiaos, all gleaming with a soft or oily luster in the candlelight.
Seated there was the owner of Yixiang Building, Lady Yu. She had taken great care with her appearance today, applying plenty of rouge and powder. She wore a crimson robe embroidered with gold-threaded peonies, its collar cut daringly low to reveal the pale expanse of her chest and a deep cleavage.
A fine gold chain, from which hung a pigeon-egg-sized Ruby, rested perfectly in the center of her cleavage, swaying gently with each breath in a particularly eye-catching manner.
Her hair was swept up into a seductive Fallen Horse Bun, with a Red Gold and Jadeite Hairpin placed at a fetching angle. Delicate pearl tassels dangled from the hairpin, accentuating the flirtatious allure of her well-preserved, still-charming face. Her every glance seemed to carry a hook.
To her left sat Qian Tong, the Chief Shopkeeper of Yixiang Building. He was a middle-aged man in his forties, fair-faced and beardless, with small, bright eyes that shone with intensity.
They held the characteristic shrewdness and calculation of a merchant. He was dressed in a sapphire-blue silk shirt and habitually rolled a pair of glossy walnuts in his hand, polished smooth from years of handling.
On her right was Zhao Wu, also known as Iron Hand, the Guard Chief of Yixiang Building. He appeared to be in his fifties, but was in fact over a hundred years old.
He had a lean, powerful build and a stern, cold face. His temples bulged prominently, and his large hands were thick-knuckled and covered in calluses. He sat with his arms crossed, his gaze sinister, the outline of a dagger faintly visible at his waist.
And seated opposite Lady Yu, in the guest of honor’s seat, was a middle-aged man in a black brocade robe with an impassive face.
He looked to be around forty, but his true age was undoubtedly much greater.
He had a gaunt face, a hooked nose, and thin lips. His gaze was as sharp as a blade, and his every glance held the natural authority of a man long in power, tinged with the faint scent of blood. He was clearly not someone to be trifled with.
Hanging from his waist was a Black Iron Token engraved with a ferocious, lifelike wolf—the very symbol of the Chief Steward for Prince Zhenbei’s Mansion in White Jade City.
This man was Tu Gang, the Chief Steward dispatched by Prince Zhenbei’s Mansion to the Capital City.
With his Cultivation at the Super Grade Late Stage, he was one of the Northern King’s most trusted confidants. He was tasked with managing all the Prince’s Mansion’s affairs in the Capital City, both overt and covert, including liaising with various factions, gathering intelligence, and handling the dirty work that had to be kept in the shadows.
This, of course, had included supporting the Third Prince, Xia Wuchen—but alas, Xia Wuchen was now ruined.
"For Steward Tu to grace us with his presence truly brings light to my humble Yixiang Building."
Lady Yu personally took an ewer and filled Tu Gang’s cup with an amber-colored Wine, one of the finest vintages from the Western Regions.
Her voice was sweet enough to drip honey, and she leaned in subtly, her body brushing against his and stirring up a fragrant breeze.
Tu Gang was unmoved, his face an impassive mask. He lifted his cup and took a sip. His gaze swept over the pale expanse of skin at Lady Yu’s open collar for a brief moment before flicking away.
He said coolly, "You’re too kind, Lady Yu. The Prince’s Mansion and Yixiang Building go way back. Though the Third Prince is currently... indisposed, the Prince values old friendships. He’s still willing to do business with old friends, especially when it’s profitable business like this."
He mentioned the Third Prince and the Prince with clear intent: to remind her of their shared history and to hint at who Yixiang Building should be siding with now. Pick the wrong side, and it would be too late for regrets.
Lady Yu’s smile never wavered, but she cursed him internally. ’Old fox.’
After the Third Prince was deposed and made a eunuch, Yixiang Building had indeed begun to distance itself from him, and it was becoming more and more obvious.
After all, a Prince who had lost all value was no longer a worthy investment.
But now, for the sake of the profits to be had from the Eastern Palace, they had no choice but to rely on the power of Prince Zhenbei’s Mansion. It was inevitable they would be put in their place a little.
"The Prince is too kind, and I am endlessly grateful. The matter we discussed previously is a win-win; we can both profit handsomely. What do you think, Steward Tu?" Lady Yu sat up a little straighter as she spoke, her tone becoming serious. She was making it clear that this was a mutually beneficial venture, and that they had decided to bring Prince Zhenbei’s Mansion in on account of their shared history as backers of the Third Prince, Xia Wuchen.
Tu Gang set down his wine cup. His fingers tapped lightly against the smooth Purple Sandalwood tabletop, making a dull TAP, TAP sound. He seemed to be hesitating.
His voice grew colder. "Let’s not mince words. We have confirmed it again. The one in Wenhua Hall won’t make it through the summer, let alone the rest of the year."
At these words, the eyes of the others in the room lit up, as if they could already see vast fortunes and beautiful women flocking to them.

Comments

Loading...