Chapter 49

In front of Yuanchun Pavilion, the vermilion gates glistened brilliantly in the morning sunlight, adorned with golden studs reflecting metallic light.
Since it was daytime, few patrons were inside. The courtesans, listless, stood at the entrance, fanning themselves to attract customers.
Just as a few of them rubbed their sleepy eyes, a fair and delicate young gentleman walked straight to the door. Their eyes lit up, but when the “young gentleman” spoke, the brightness in their eyes dimmed instantly.
The “young gentleman” wore a well-made turquoise robe, his long hair bound high to reveal a smooth forehead. His sword-shaped eyebrows slanted into his temples, and beneath them, his eyes shone like stars.
“This young master are you here to listen to music, or to see a certain young lady?” The madam at the door, keen-eyed, immediately locked onto Shen Qing.
Seeing her fair skin and refined demeanor, and noting that her robe was of exquisite material, the madam realized she was a wealthy young lady and quickly put on a welcoming smile.
Facing the enthusiastic madam, Shen Qing asked, “Is there a young lady here who can perform the ‘Eighteen Stanzas of the Hu Jia’?”
As she drew closer, the madam discovered Shen Qing’s secret.
Though she looked like a fourteen- or fifteen-year-old young gentleman from afar, the flat throat and clear, delicate voice revealed her true gender. The madam, experienced and discerning after years in the profession, immediately saw through Shen Qing’s disguise.
Her face flushed slightly, and she lowered her voice: “Young master, this is not a place for mischief. You should return home quickly!” She worried that if Shen Qing’s mother were influential in Chang’an, and found her daughter causing trouble here, it could bring disaster upon the establishment.
Shen Qing smiled lightly. “Madam, rest assured. My father and mother are away in Youzhou. I am bored at home alone. I just remembered the performance of ‘Eighteen Stanzas of the Hu Jia’ that my mother once invited to our residence. I’m here merely to try my luck, to see if any young lady can sing it.”
She flicked her fingers, taking a string of golden beads from her wrist and placing them in the madam’s hand.
Years of accumulated rewards from her father’s military exploits and Emperor’s gifts had filled the household treasury. Her mother never liked extravagance, but the accumulated treasures were abundant. Shen Qing had casually selected some small but valuable items to bring out. Such “lavishness” did not cost her much.
The madam held the golden beads. Each bead was perfectly round, engraved with intricate patterns. She recognized them as valuable, aesthetically pleasing even if kept personally.
Few clients were so generous at first contact. The madam’s heart wavered, and she followed Shen Qing inside.
“Rest assured. I’ve come to book a private room and listen to music. If I enjoy it, you shall receive your due reward.”
She placed another pouch in the madam’s hand. Feeling the weight, the madam opened it to find stacks of silver ingots, gleaming dazzlingly.
Someone rushing in to open pouches, tossing gold and silver, all for merely listening to music, what could be wrong with that?
The madam’s face brightened into a broad smile. “We do have it! Of course! But the ‘Eighteen Stanzas of the Hu Jia’ is an old song from over ten years ago. The young ladies who can perform it well are few and older. Perhaps you’d like to hear something else?”
In truth, the song was outdated. Few learned it now; the original top-ranking performers were old, their skills diminished. Modern girls were You’and beautiful, but not trained in this piece.
Tonight, a generous “silly young master” had come. Why not show the young, capable, and pricey performers?
Shen Qing clearly saw through the madam’s calculations. Smiling faintly, she said, “Whether a young beauty or a mature lady, I am here to listen to the song and nothing else. Simply line up all the young ladies who can perform the ‘Eighteen Stanzas of the Hu Jia.’ I want to hear who captivates me most.”
Finally, ignoring the madam’s astonished expression, she added, “The older, the better. Experience brings mastery and charm.”
Listening to music was just a pretense; the true aim was gathering information. Liu Wanxiu was sixteen now. In the memory segment from her realm, she was only about five, and it was unknown if the Xi Sang demon was alive. Judging from her crazed behavior and subtle cues, Shen Qing guessed that even if she hadn’t died, she wasn’t far from it.
Thus, she was merely inquiring about events from ten years ago.
She generously booked a top-tier room and silently waited for the madam to bring the performers.
Bored while waiting, Shen Qing pushed open the window. To her surprise, the room faced the water. Below was Huachun Pond.
The lotus leaves were round, the flowers blooming in lush splendor. A gentle breeze stirred the green leaves and pink petals, perfectly matching the imagery of “wind lifting the lotus.”
Among them were ripened seed pods, reminding Shen Qing of her mother peeling lotus seeds every late summer.
The seeds were round, plump, smooth, and delicate, like carved white jade. A bite revealed soft sweetness, almost intoxicating.
At the thought, Shen Qing’s mouth watered. She decided that once the days passed, before the lotus-picking girls harvested, she would take a boat to enjoy the fun of plucking seed pods herself. In previous years, her mother had painstakingly peeled them. This year, she would do it herself for her mother.
No sooner had she thought this than two elaborately dressed young women entered, led by the madam. They lined up inside and bowed toward Shen Qing by the window. “We pay our respects, young master.” Their voices were melodious and pleasing to the ear.
The madam smiled. “Young master, they have been brought to you. Enjoy your time. If any of the girls displease you, tell me and I will correct it!”
Shen Qing asked, slightly puzzled, “Why only two girls?”
The madam hesitated. “Young master, you may not know. Few girls in this establishment know the ‘Eighteen Stanzas of the Hu Jia.’ Over the years, some were redeemed, some fell ill. In the end, only two remain who can perform it well.”
“Very well, you may leave.” Shen Qing waved her hand, a touch disappointed.
“Ah, yes!” The madam retreated, yet made a show of thoughtfully closing the door behind her.
Shen Qing sipped her tea, her expression calm as she observed the two women before her.
Both were graceful in their own way, not as sprightly as the teenage girls inside the brothel, but not old either, seemingly around thirty.
Perhaps under prior instructions from the madam, they maintained decorum, standing properly without doing anything inappropriate.
The one in purple stepped forward first, holding her zither. “I am Shanzha. I pay my respects to the young master.”
The other, in green, said, “I am Haitang. I pay my respects to the young master.”
After introducing themselves, Shen Qing, intrigued, asked, “Your names are all based on flowers?”
Shanzha, clearly the more authoritative of the two, stepped forward with her zither and replied gently, “Indeed.”
“But with so many girls in the house, more than flowers, what will you do once the flowers run out?”
Shanzha pursed her lips. “Young master, you may not know. Not all girls here are named after flowers. Some are named for scenery, some for objects. We happened to be named during that period, which is why we were fortunate to receive satisfying names.”
Shen Qing nodded slightly, a faint smile in her eyes. “Then let’s start with Haitang. Sing the ‘Eighteen Stanzas of the Hu Jia’ well, and you shall be rewarded.”
Haitang was momentarily stunned. She had assumed that Shen Qing’s conversation with Shanzha meant Shanzha would perform first, yet unexpectedly, it was herself who was chosen.
Haitang furrowed her brows, placed her zither on the table, and began to play. Within moments, two sweet, melodious notes flowed out. Gradually, she sang.
Her voice was like a trickling stream, clear, lively, and light. The melody sometimes brushed like a gentle breeze, sometimes lingered like rain just passed, carrying hints of melancholy and sorrow.
Yet the song’s inherently mournful tone, paired with her too-clear voice, made it charming but slightly lacking in depth.
Shen Qing beckoned to Shanzha, the eldest-looking of the two, to come forward.
Shanzha approached gracefully. “Young master.”
Shen Qing’s eyes curved in a smile. “Sister, there’s no need for formalities. Let’s just talk as ordinary sisters in the house.”
Shanzha looked up, surprised.
She was astonished that Shen Qing would so openly reveal her female identity. While experienced girls in the house could usually spot such things at a glance, few would so plainly expose themselves to a brothel girl. Shen Qing’s candidness marked her as straightforward and amiable.
Shen Qing courteously took Shanzha by the elbow and helped her sit. “The zither is heavy. Sister should put it down.”
At this, Shanzha’s impression of her improved.
This young master seemed genuinely like a pampered young lady, visiting Yuanchun Pavilion out of curiosity.
Her tone softened further. “Thank you, young master.”
Shen Qing held her face in her hands, eyes gleaming. “I don’t know your age, sister, but you remind me so fondly of the singer my mother invited ten years ago to our residence.”
She continued, “Ten years ago, I was bedridden, confined indoors with bitter medicine. My mother, pitying me, invited a singer to sing for me. That sister had a gentle disposition. Seeing my boredom, and my mother busy, she stayed with me for days, singing daily.”
“When the usual righteous songs bored me, she secretly sang the ‘Eighteen Stanzas of the Hu Jia,’ and gave me the protective talismans her mother brought. She even brought me small toys and treats. She truly cared for me. My illness eventually healed, yet I never found her again, only hearing from my mother that she had been a singer invited from Yuanchun Pavilion.”