Why did everyone fear social death so much? It all came down to a rule of the Inner City. Unlike the Outer City, which had no curfew, the Inner City was where respectable people lived—and for the safety of high officials and nobles, nobody was allowed on the streets after the evening drum.
Everyone knew the Bureau of Music operated at night.
Which meant visiting the Bureau wasn't just about gathering intel. You had to spend the night.
That was why Xu Pingzhi had objected to Xu Qian going in the first place. Here was a young man burning with youthful vigor—staying overnight at the Bureau? One playful tease from the girls and who could resist?
So whoever went to the Bureau of Music would have to sleep with the women.
And the three men present all had carefully maintained personas:
The righteous gentleman, Xu Cijiu.
The man who never visited pleasure houses, Xu Qian.
The devoted family man, Xu Pingzhi.
All three understood the same truth: even with good reasons, sleeping with a courtesan was still sleeping with a courtesan. There was no spinning that.
*In my previous life I never visited a brothel, but I can imagine the sheer embarrassment of getting a call from the police notifying my parents... I'd honestly rather die...* Xu Qian sat up straight, his expression noble and dignified.
His mind conjured up a scandalous anecdote from the pleasure houses. Once, while listening to music, Warden Wang had shared a juicy story: some government official went to the Bureau of Music, only to run into his own son during the tea selection round.
Father and son sharing the same courtyard. The awkwardness was off the charts.
The next day the story had spread through the entire capital's bureaucracy. It became a legendary joke—even Magistrate Zhu had heard about it from Warden Wang.
For an era that took the Three Bonds and Five Virtues seriously—where reputation could make or break a career—this kind of thing was more than anyone's face could bear.
Xu Qian looked at Second Uncle and Cijiu, and a vivid mental image materialized against his will:
Xu Xinnian: "Yo, Dad! You're here too? I'll take this girl tonight, you can have her tomorrow."
Second Uncle: "Beat it. Who's the father around here? I sleep first."
Xu Qian: "You two can leave. I want her all to myself."
Just thinking about it made his skin crawl. Xu Qian coughed. "Let's shelve the Bureau of Music for now. We keep gathering intel—it's not like the Bureau is the only option, and we don't even know for certain that Lady Fuxiang will have anything useful to tell us."
"Let's reconvene the day after tomorrow to pool what we've got. If there are no new leads, then we can consider the Bureau."
When he said this, both Xu Xinnian and Second Uncle's attitudes improved immediately. They nodded in agreement.
Xu Qian thought to himself: *I'll take the hit. I'll go to the Bureau of Music tomorrow night.*
...
The next afternoon, Xu Qian took leave and returned to the Xu residence. The household, once lively, felt noticeably emptier. Half the maids and servants had been taken away, leaving old Zhang the gatekeeper and a handful of staff to manage things. Second Uncle and Xu Xinnian were both still out.
Xu Qian made his way to the inner courtyard with practiced ease, pushed open Xu Xinnian's door, and rummaged through drawers until he found the moonlight-white scholar's robe. The fabric was exquisite, embroidered with matching cloud patterns.
He stripped off his constable uniform and changed into his little brother's finest garment, fastening a jade pendant of decent quality to his belt.
Xu Qian stood before the bronze mirror, studying his reflection.
*Not bad... except this body is too aggressively masculine to pull off the delicate scholar look. If I had my previous life's devastatingly handsome face, I could totally rock this outfit. This vessel is just... lacking in immersion value...* He smoothed a wrinkle on his chest, satisfied enough, and headed out.
The capital of Great Feng could be described as a nesting doll: the Palace City at the center, then the Imperial City, then the Inner City, and finally the Outer City.
Compared to the densely populated and chaotic Outer City, Xu Qian thought of the Inner City as a modern CBD—only the wealthy could afford to live here. In this era, residing in the Inner City meant having both status and connections.
It was worth noting that Auntie had always wanted to sell their Outer City property and move to the Inner City. But with a money-devouring nephew under the roof, her Inner City dreams remained just that—dreams.
From the Xu residence to the nearest Inner City gate, even at Xu Qian's current walking speed, it would take three to four hours on foot.
He hired a carriage and arrived at the nearest gate in about an hour, producing his travel permit and passing through without incident. The guards carefully inspected the carriage. When they saw Xu Qian had no large luggage, disappointment flickered across their faces—no cargo meant no gate tax to collect.
...
The Inner City streets were wide and orderly. Main avenues were lined with handsome houses surrounded by green trees; side streets featured a variety of courtyards and estates. Whether it was urban planning, the quality of pedestrians' clothing, or the sheer number of carriages, everything outshone the Outer City.
"When I get the chance, I'm definitely bringing Lingyue here. The difference in prosperity is night and day." Xu Qian lifted the carriage curtain and gazed at the bustling scene, and in his mind appeared his cousin's delicate, exquisite features.
He didn't head straight for the Bureau of Music—it was still too early. The "seafood merchants," as he mentally dubbed them, didn't work during the day.
After paying the carriage fare, Xu Qian wandered the streets aimlessly.
Before long, he arrived at a market. Looking up, he saw an archway at the street entrance: Yongkang Street.
The breadth of this street was something Xu Qian had never seen before—two hundred meters wide, paved with smooth blue flagstones stretching to the horizon. Shops and houses lined both sides in neat rows, wide enough for ten carriages to pass abreast without crowding. Pedestrians flowed in constant streams.
This wasn't a street. It was a full-blown plaza.
Standing beneath the archway, Xu Qian gazed at the spectacle with genuine awe.
"Second Uncle mentioned Yongkang Street was big, but I didn't expect it to be this massive," he murmured.
The generous width of the main avenue served a purpose: when the Emperor or royal relatives traveled, guards would clear the road ahead. Two hundred meters rendered most military crossbows and firearms useless. Even if assassins tried to ambush from buildings on either side, that distance would force them to step away from the keyboard and type "666" in helpless admiration.
Xu Qian roamed Yongkang Street like a dog off its leash, though his limited budget kept his spending impulses in check.
Suddenly, a lavish carriage caught his eye—blinding enough to rivet his gaze. It was drawn by four powerful horses, with a domed roof plated in silver and gilded gold. Yellow silk curtains hung from the windows, and below them, decorative panels wrapped in translucent white jade shielded against dust.
The wheels were studded with a neat ring of gold nails, the hubs also wrapped in jade. But the true luxury lay in the material: golden nanmu wood, reserved exclusively for the royal family.
*I probably couldn't afford a single wheel after an entire lifetime of hard work...* Xu Qian thought mournfully, feeling the familiar sting of his previous life as a corporate drone.
The magnificent carriage had pulled over to the roadside. A squad of soldiers in black armor stood guard with long spears. Interestingly, another squad was playing a pitch-pot game.
The stallkeeper was an elderly Daoist in a tattered robe, his graying hair pinned up with a wooden clasp, loose strands hanging in disarray.
On his stall lay copper coins, silver ingots, gold ingots, Daoist scriptures, Bodhi prayer beads, jade mirrors... a motley collection of treasures. Never mind the other items—the fact that gold and silver ingots sat on display without being snatched told Xu Qian this old Daoist was no ordinary fellow.
He stopped to watch.
After observing for a moment, he understood the rules. The player stood thirty paces from a ceramic vase, blindfolded, facing away, with three arrows. Land one arrow and you won third-tier prizes—small gold, silver, and jade items. Land all three and you could pick any one first-tier prize.
The first-tier prizes were just two items: the Bodhi prayer beads and the jade mirror.
"Missed again! Damn it!"
"Move over, it's my turn."
The armored soldiers took turns pitching, but every one of them failed. The pile of silver before the old Daoist grew steadily higher.
After fifteen soldiers had failed through another round, Xu Qian noticed the carriage curtain move slightly. A soldier standing by the window leaned in to listen, then walked toward the stallkeeper.
"Old Daoist, my master offers sixty taels of gold to buy everything on your stall," the soldier announced loudly.
*So the pitch-pot isn't working, and now they're trying to pay-to-win?* Xu Qian stood nearby, watching the scene unfold.
Faced with sixty taels of gold, the old Daoist shook his head. "Rules are rules."
The soldier's body tensed. He stared hard at the old Daoist for a long moment, then spun on his heel and returned to the carriage to report.
Seconds later, the carriage's owner recalled the soldiers and prepared to leave.
Xu Qian seized the moment, stepping forward to the old Daoist's stall. "Old Daoist, how much for one round?"
The elderly Daoist, sitting cross-legged on the ground, looked up, handed him three arrows. "One mace of silver."
Xu Qian took the arrows and smiled, feeling victory was already in his grasp. A thirty-pitch throw was no great challenge for an Essence Refining martial artist. But doing it blindfolded and facing away? Nearly impossible. Vision was the most critical of the five senses—without it, a fighter's instincts dulled and accuracy plummeted.
Whether he could land a shot came down entirely to luck.
Xu Qian's luck wasn't great, but he had absolute confidence. Because he hadn't picked up any stray silver for several days running.
*Is it because I'm about to enter the Inner City and encounter this pitch-pot game that my luck points have been silently accumulating? If I hit all three, those gold and silver ingots are mine... Ah, the life of a luck-favored king is so simple and unexciting...*
Xu Qian walked thirty paces away, turned around, tied the black blindfold over his eyes, and casually tossed the arrows backward over his shoulder.
*Thunk, thunk, thunk.*
All three arrows landed in the vase almost simultaneously.
Passersby gasped in amazement. The commotion caught the attention of the departing carriage. From behind the curtain came a soft, melodious voice:
"Stop the carriage."
PS: I have to go on a business trip tomorrow. Sigh, I really don't want to go—the pandemic isn't fully over yet, and I'm a bit scared. But a man's gotta eat, so I'm bracing myself and flying out. That means no computer nearby tomorrow, so I probably won't be able to update during the day. Consider today's noon chapter an early update for tomorrow—not extra, just early!