The Tea Gathering fee was paid. They entered the courtyard, where seven or eight guests sat around a room warmed by burning charcoal, sipping tea and chatting in high spirits.
Six dancers in colorful robes and gossamer skirts swayed gracefully, their slender waists and full hips moving in rhythm.
Xu Qian scanned the room but didn't spot the courtesan queen — the woman who played the demure lady in public yet turned sultry and wanton behind closed doors.
A Tea Gathering wasn't all about drinking games. There were also musical performances and dance shows. The courtesan queen didn't appear at every session.
Similarly, guests needed "free space." Drinking games were entertaining, but they weren't conducive to private conversation.
Some guests came in groups to drink and strengthen bonds. They needed room to mingle on their own.
The three took their seats. Song Tingfeng shrugged, squinting with a smile. "Looks like Lady Fuxiang isn't planning to come out tonight."
Xu Qian asked: "Why do you say that?"
Song Tingfeng explained: "A Tea Gathering has a time limit — usually one shi-chen per group. Either you renew for another round or you leave. And a proper drinking game takes roughly one shi-chen to play out."
*So our batch won't be playing drinking games, which means Fuxiang won't appear... Why do you know the Bureau of Music's rules so well? You must be a regular...* Xu Qian nodded, filing away this new knowledge.
A dance concluded. The dancers took a brief rest.
A young man in a pale green scholar's robe stood, raising his cup and scanning the room: "Is a Mister Yang Ling present?"
He asked three times. No response. Disappointment etched his face as he sat back down.
At the adjacent table, a middle-aged man dressed as a wealthy householder asked with curiosity: "Brother, who is this Yang Ling?"
"'Slanting shadows fall across shallow water; dark fragrance floats in the moonlit dusk.'" The young scholar tilted his chin slightly. "Heard of it?"
"Rings a bell." The wealthy man thought for a moment.
"Naturally — when this poem surfaced, the literati called it the finest verse on plum blossoms in a thousand years. Even you gentlemen must have heard it." The young scholar lifted his chin proudly. "Only we scholars could compose such a masterpiece."
The wealthy householder frowned. "Then why is the young master searching for him here?"
Their conversation drew the attention of surrounding drinkers, who quieted to listen.
"Because this timeless poem was first presented right here at Yingmei Pavilion. Young Master Yang Ling composed it for Lady Fuxiang — likening plum blossoms to the lady herself, the two illuminating each other. Truly exquisite sentiment."
"No wonder Yingmei Pavilion has been packed with visitors lately. No wonder Lady Fuxiang rarely appears."
"Indeed — I hear she's practically stopped receiving guests."
"'Slanting shadows fall across shallow water; dark fragrance floats in the moonlit dusk'... Such beautiful verse. I'd love to meet Lady Fuxiang — and that talented poet."
Hearing this, the young scholar in green sighed with frustration: "That Young Master Yang only appeared at the Bureau of Music once, then vanished without a trace. The Imperial Academy sent someone to the Changle County school to find him, but there was no record of anyone by that name."
"What a strange affair!" The crowd buzzed with surprise.
The young scholar shook his head helplessly. "I come to Yingmei Pavilion every day just to wait for him. I'm not the only one — every scholar in the capital wants to befriend this man."
Song Tingfeng clicked his tongue. "Well then, Lady Fuxiang is no longer a woman we can aspire to."
Zhu Guangxiao sighed in agreement.
*Did I accidentally drive up her market value without realizing it?* Xu Qian guiltily sipped his tea.
Song Tingfeng turned to his new colleague. "A shame you're brilliant at solving cases but can't write poetry. If you could compose a timeless verse like that Yang Ling fellow, Lady Fuxiang would pay you for the privilege."
"Pay me?!" Xu Qian caught the key detail.
"You think the tales of courtesans falling for poor scholars are fiction? When a struggling poet occasionally produces a gem and gifts it to a courtesan, her reputation soars. It's mutually beneficial. And young scholars who achieve early fame? They're the ones courtesans compete to flatter."
"Forget about not charging — they'd even pay out of pocket. The Purple Sun Master of White Deer Academy was quite the poet in his day. After topping the imperial examinations, he spent three months at the Bureau of Music without spending a single coin," Song Tingfeng said.
Zhu Guangxiao nodded in confirmation.
Song Tingfeng noticed his new colleague's jaw had dropped, face cycling between shock and elation, his breathing quickening.
A maid serving drinks to guests abruptly left her post, stared at Xu Qian for several seconds, and lit up with wild joy. Abandoning her guest without a word, she fled the room.
Moments later, the courtesan queen appeared in full regalia, her long train sweeping the floor, jeweled ornaments in her dark hair complementing her exquisite features.
The thickness of her gown was just right — not bulky enough to obscure her mature, voluptuous figure, yet not so revealing as to seem indecent.
This was notably more refined than what Xu Qian had seen the first time. She looked less like a Bureau of Music courtesan and more like a high-society socialite with a widespread reputation for beauty.
Lady Fuxiang's luminous eyes swept across the guests, pausing briefly on Xu Qian.
"Huh — Fuxiang just looked at me," Song Tingfeng said, mildly stunned.
Zhu Guangxiao glanced at him, straightened his posture, and declared with competitive pride: "She was looking at me."
After bowing to the guests, Fuxiang spoke in her soft, honeyed voice: "This humble one will perform a dance to enhance your enjoyment."
The guests were thrilled — they hadn't expected the Bureau of Music's most sought-after courtesan to make an appearance.
The perceptive among them noted something deeper: Lady Fuxiang was renowned for her qin and poetry, not her dancing. Why dance today of all days?
*What a figure... If only she'd dance 'Paradise on Earth' for me...* Xu Qian admired the graceful movements while letting his imagination wander.
The dance ended. Fuxiang drank a cup of wine, her cheeks flushed rosy, and withdrew.
Song Tingfeng grinned: "Worth every copper."
Zhu Guangxiao nodded.
Song Tingfeng raised his cup toward Xu Qian. "Lady Fuxiang rarely dances — she plays the qin far more often. For a newcomer like you to witness her dance, that silver was well spent."
Xu Qian raised his cup in return. "If only I could spend the night in her chambers."
Song Tingfeng burst out laughing.
Zhu Guangxiao shook his head slightly.
Song Tingfeng had barely finished laughing when a maid approached and said: "Young Master Yang, my lady invites you to her chambers for tea."
Song Tingfeng and Zhu Guangxiao stared blankly at Xu Qian, their expressions freezing one degree at a time.
Xu Qian patted Song Tingfeng's shoulder. "Tomorrow at the Hour of the Rabbit. Gate entrance. Don't be late."
The scholar in the pale green robe shot to his feet, face alight with shock and ecstasy. "Young Master Yang — you're Yang Ling? You're really Yang Ling? Brother Yang, Brother Yang... My name is Du Ying..."
Xu Qian paused to clasp his fists in farewell, then followed the maid out.
*Yang Ling...* Every drinker in the room widened their eyes. Several scholars in robes lit up with excitement.
Song Tingfeng and Zhu Guangxiao exchanged a silent look: *???*
...
A bedroom warm as spring. Behind a screen, a wooden bathtub.
Xu Qian soaked in hot water strewn with flower petals, exhaling in deep comfort.
Fuxiang, draped in gossamer, her fair skin and striking figure on full display, knelt beside the tub attending to him, her soft hands massaging his body.
"A few days apart and you've grown even more handsome, sir." The courtesan queen admired Xu Qian's powerful physique, her bright eyes unable to look away.
The previous Xu Qian had been decent-looking, with sharp features. Today, though his appearance hadn't changed, he radiated an indescribable aura.
"As long as you like it, my transformation was worth it," Xu Qian said with a raised eyebrow.
Fuxiang's delicate cheeks flushed, a shy pleasure on her face.
Her expression turned plaintive. "You only say sweet things to fool me. Sir clearly doesn't think me worthy."
What man could hold her all night without doing a thing?
The courtesan queen had woken the next morning with her confidence in her own charms shaken to its core.
"That night I was just tired..." Xu Qian thought. The excuse sounded like something a forty-or-fifty-year-old man would say.
He quickly changed the subject: "Are you cold?"
The courtesan queen nodded immediately, pouting: "Cold~"
"Then let's bathe together." He pulled her into the tub.
*SPLASH...*
An unexpected shriek.
Fuxiang nestled against Xu Qian's chest, coquettish. "You're awful."
She sat on his stomach, arms looped around his neck, chatting idly while asking him to teach her poetry.
Xu Qian was a fraud, but he had plenty of poems memorized. The occasional verse that slipped out sent the courtesan red-faced with excitement.
"Oh — have you heard about Vice Minister of Revenue Zhou's dismissal and exile, Young Master Yang?"
The seemingly casual remark set Xu Qian's instincts on edge.
"I have. Sounds like he was impeached by Marquis Weiwu," Xu Qian said.
The courtesan queen lifted her flirtatious, almond-shaped eyes to his face, studying him with a knowing smile. "Apparently it was because that young Master Zhou couldn't let go of his obsession and abducted the Marquis's illegitimate daughter."
"That proves beauty is a blade that cuts to the bone," Xu Qian replied with a mix of surprise and sighing.
As a seasoned criminal investigator, no one could easily extract information from him. But Fuxiang might have grown suspicious.
What were the odds? She'd barely mentioned old history, and Zhou Li actually made a move on the Marquis's daughter... Not necessarily suspicion, but definitely curiosity.
*I need to strengthen this woman's affection for me — make her genuinely inclined toward me, so she never mentions my name to some official...*
"Watching you dance just now stirred something in me. A few lines came to mind..." Xu Qian drew the beauty closer and recited: "Ornamental hairpins and cloud-like buns shatter to the beat; blood-red silk skirts stained by overturned wine. This year's laughter echoes into next; autumn moons and spring breezes pass in idle hours."
*This year's laughter echoes into next; autumn moons and spring breezes pass in idle hours...* The courtesan queen's eyes filled with tears. "Is sir trying to twist this humble one's heart? How cruel you are."
After bathing, they lay on the magnificent brocade bed. Xu Qian leafed through an illustrated volume placed beside the pillow.
The courtesan queen's brown eyes gleamed dark and moist like a forest fawn, her cheeks flushed a vivid peach-blossom pink — shy and bashful, yet offering herself entirely.
Delicate features, a full, voluptuous figure, flawless, silken skin — like a jade figurine come to life.
"What does this mean?" Xu Qian glanced at her and raised the illustration.
Fuxiang pressed her lips together, too embarrassed to answer.
*You really thought I was a virgin who needed instruction?* Xu Qian scoffed and tossed the volume aside.
That night, the courtesan queen's bed creaked until well past midnight.
...
The next morning at the Hour of the Rabbit, Xu Qian dressed under the attendants of the slightly haggard beauty, ate breakfast, and bid farewell to the lovestruck Fuxiang.
The senior maid attending Fuxiang looked at him this morning with eyes full of worship, putting a spring in Xu Qian's step.
Stepping out of Yingmei Pavilion's courtyard, he found his two colleagues looking chipper at the gate.
*They didn't ask me for reimbursement... I really shouldn't freeload, but the beauty's grace is too heavy...* Xu Qian said brightly: "Morning, gentlemen."
The three walked out of the Bureau of Music's alley shoulder to shoulder. At the parting point, Song Tingfeng squinted and couldn't help asking: "Lady Fuxiang... how was the experience?"
The taciturn Zhu Guangxiao looked over too.
Xu Qian gazed straight ahead, three parts defiance, three parts rogue, his lips curling: "That girl... very smooth!"
...
He bought several bolts of silk in the inner city and hired a carriage back to the Xu residence.
Second Uncle had taken the day off to wait for news. Xu Xinnian wasn't studying either — no mood for it.
Only when Xu Qian had servants carry in the silk did the family finally breathe a sigh of relief.
Xu Qian didn't explain much. He gestured at the fabric and smiled: "For Aunt and the girls to make new dresses."
Aunt was still nursing a grievance. She lifted her sharp, porcelain chin and snorted.
Little Lingyin grabbed his trouser leg and tried to climb up, chattering: "Big brother, big brother! I saw sister crying secretly yesterday!"
The melon-seed-faced Xu Lingyue blushed crimson.
In front of family, it wasn't appropriate to be too intimate. Xu Qian smiled at the beautiful young girl, then kicked Little Lingyin into the air like a shuttlecock and caught her deftly.
Aunt nearly had a heart attack. Little Lingyin, oblivious, giggled with delight.
Second Uncle froze. "You've entered Qi Refinement."
Receiving Xu Qian's confirmation, Second Uncle broke into the warm smile of a proud father.
In the study, Xu Qian gave a brief account of events to Second Uncle and his cousin.
Father and son were both shaken with lingering fear.
Xu Xinnian studied his older cousin: "Why would the Princess Royal send someone to follow you?"
*I'd like to know that myself...* Xu Qian offered a guess: "Perhaps because on the day of the anomaly at the Academy, I was the only outsider present?"
The day the Second Sage's Palace had produced its miracle, the Princess Royal had also been at the Academy. She would certainly have taken notice. Monitoring the sole outsider from that day was perfectly logical.
Xu Xinnian said gravely: "The Princess Royal is deeply calculating. She studied at White Deer Academy for years and has something like a half-master relationship with Wei Yuan. Her strategic brilliance is exceptional. Recommending you as a Night Watchman was no idle gesture."
"If she ever summons you in the future, don't be surprised. Above all — be careful. Treat it with caution."
Xu Qian murmured agreement.
That someone as proud and discerning as Xu Xinnian treated this woman with such wariness spoke volumes.
Xu Xinnian paused, then raised his chin: "I've entered the Self-Cultivation stage."
*I've become a Realm Eight Confucian master!*
Xu Qian brightened. "What supernatural abilities does Self-Cultivation grant?"
Xu Xinnian's lips curved: "'Where righteousness stands, though a million men oppose, I shall advance.'"
In that instant, a surge of valor washed through Xu Qian — the courage to face an army alone.
The inexplicable bravery lasted a quarter-hour before slowly fading.
"Self-Cultivation is the process of tempering the literary courage. At this stage, a Confucian's every word and action carries persuasive force. Just now, for instance, you felt what I said was reasonable and instinctively agreed. When I enter court as an official, my case-solving will rival yours."
No — I rely on real skill. You're cheating! Xu Qian thought.
*This is basically a courage buff — the embryonic form of 'words become law'...* Xu Qian's eyes lit up. He exchanged a glance with Second Uncle, then said: "Cijiu, your big brother hasn't treated you poorly..."
"Get lost!" Xu Xinnian cut him off with a flick of his sleeve and strode away.
*Crude martial artists.*
...
Xu Qian returned to his courtyard for a nap.
He woke abruptly with no clear reason. The source of the disturbance was the jade mirror hidden beneath his pillow.
On the mirror's smooth surface, a line of small characters had appeared:
【Nine: Where are you?】