After leaving the Immortals’ Abode, the maid in the carriage couldn’t hold back her laughter.
“Third Young Master is usually such a serious person—who would’ve thought he had an old flame?” she said, laughing.
Even a fool could tell that the way that young woman treated Xu Maoxiu was out of the ordinary.
“How is Third Young Master serious?” Ban Qin shook her head. “He is very, very…”
She couldn’t quite think of the right word.
“A refined gentleman?” the maid offered with a smile.
Ban Qin quickly nodded in agreement.
“That’s exactly why he’s unforgettable,” the maid laughed.
“Third Young Master is worthy of it,” Ban Qin said, though her tone carried a hint of displeasure. “Still, that lady is already married—couldn’t she show a little restraint? Her husband’s face turned green!”
“Let’s hope he doesn’t end up resenting our young master,” the maid said with a frown.
“Well, that’s a concern…”
Ban Qin, too, looked a little uneasy.
As they spoke, the carriage came to a stop in front of the gate. The two of them quickly fell silent, got out of the carriage, and turned to look at Cheng Jiao-niang.
“Miss, what do you think?” Ban Qin asked.
“Think about what?” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
“Third Young Master, of course,” Ban Qin said.
“He is very nice,” Cheng Jiao-niang answered.
The maid and Ban Qin both chuckled—Miss always seemed to be speaking on a different wavelength from the rest of them.
“That couple…” they started to say.
“That couple—what about them?” Cheng Jiao-niang interrupted, stepping down from the carriage.
Ban Qin was about to say more, but the maid gently tugged her sleeve with a smile.
“It’s nothing,” she said with a laugh, reaching out to support Cheng Jiao-niang. “Miss, what should we eat tonight?”
Why are we suddenly talking about food? Ban Qin was a little puzzled, but she never liked to overthink things. If she didn’t get it, she’d just let it go. Just understand what she could, and that was enough.
“How about some cold noodles?” she said.
The mistress and her two maids were just about to enter the gate when someone called out from behind.
“Lady Cheng.”
Cheng Jiao-niang turned her head and saw Young Master Qin slowly walking over from the far end of the bridge.
He was dressed in a round-collared robe and summer silk shoes, his pace unhurried—gracefully concealing his limp while giving an air of composure. With his handsome features, he truly looked like a refined young gentleman. Several young women passing by on the street peeked at him from behind their silk fans.
Cheng Jiao-niang gave a polite bow.
“I’m troubling you again,” Qin Shi’san returned the bow with a smile.
“Go ahead,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
At the gate, the mistress and her two maids were all looking at him. Jin Ge’er had already opened the door and was also looking at him, yet none of them showed the slightest intention of inviting him in.
Come to think of it, that little habit had only formed over the past half-month, and yet now that things were back to “normal,” it somehow felt unfamiliar?
Qin Shi’san smiled to himself.
“Can I drink alcohol now?” he asked.
“No,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
Qin Shi’san chuckled.
“That’s a shame,” he said.
“You’re still under dietary restrictions. I’ve already spoken to your mother about it—go home and ask her,” Cheng Jiao-niang said as she bowed slightly and lifted her foot to step forward.
Qin Shi’san took a step closer.
“Then… may I invite you to drink instead?” he asked.
Cheng Jiao-niang turned back to look at him.
“You may,” she said with a nod.
That’s it?
Such a quick and straightforward answer left Qin Shi’san momentarily stunned.
“Why does it feel like… everything has changed?” he said with a smile. “Could it be that now my legs are healed, and I can stand straight, even the world looks different?”
“Everyone feels that way right after recovering,” Cheng Jiao-niang said. “Give it some time—it’ll pass.”
Qin Shi’san burst out laughing.
“It’s getting late today, so I won’t disturb you further. Tomorrow at noon, I shall come to invite you to a wine banquet,” he said, bowing deeply.
Cheng Jiao-niang returned the gesture, then stepped through the gate and went inside.
As night fell and households closed their doors, Desheng Pavilion remained brightly lit, filled with music and laughter. The sounds of string instruments and joyous voices flowed through the interconnected halls and pavilions.
On the outer balconies of the lofts surrounding the central courtyard, no fewer than a hundred women were chatting and laughing, fluttering about like a hundred butterflies in flight—dazzling to the eye.
Yet to a seasoned frequenter of such places, it was still possible to pick out exactly what they were looking for.
“Look, those two over there—where are they headed?”
Suddenly, a guest downstairs called out, pointing in a direction.
Everyone around turned to look and saw two young men crossing a corridor bridge between the buildings.
That path led directly to the residence of the top courtesan of Desheng Pavilion.
The crowd downstairs instantly burst into an uproar.
Lady Zhu had not received any guests for quite some time due to seeking justice for her father. This hadn’t stirred any resentment; on the contrary, it had earned her even greater admiration and reverence.
Previously, to put it plainly, Lady Zhu was merely a courtesan of exceptional beauty and talent. But now, with the added identity of having once been a government official’s daughter—and the fact that she chose not to leave the profession even after clearing her family’s name—such refusal to distance herself from her “impure” past was seen by many as the height of integrity.
Rumor had it that those waiting to see her were already scheduled well into the next year.
And now—someone was actually getting to see Lady Zhu?
Who was it? Who was lucky enough to win her favor?
As they all watched, one of the two young men on the bridge waved down toward them.
“Hey, hey! The view from up here—Desheng Pavilion looks even more magnificent. Feels just like an immortal’s realm!” the man called out with a grin. “You mere mortals—this young master is off to ascend to heaven first!”
Cheng Si-lang was already feeling uncomfortable all over. When he heard the sudden shouting and saw the crowd downstairs erupt like a drop of water falling into a boiling pot of oil, he wished he could run away on the spot.
“What are you doing?!” he shouted, yanking Wang Shi’qi away from the edge of the bridge.
“Just having some fun,” Wang Shi’qi said with a grin, still looking down at the crowd. “Look, look at those people—dying of jealousy! Hahaha—hey, this young master…”
He was about to wave down again, but Cheng Si-lang grabbed him tightly and held him back.
“That’s enough! Do you want to leave here alive?” he hissed under his breath.
“That’s right, young master.”
The young maid leading the way turned back and gave them a faint, indifferent smile.
“When those people get riled up, they really will throw punches. If someone gets beaten to death, the whole crowd will scatter, and even the authorities won’t be able to do anything.”
Only then did Wang Shi’qi rein himself in, quickening his steps to catch up with the maid.
“Many thanks, many thanks,” he said cheerfully. “To have the honor of meeting Lady Zhu—I was just too excited.”
Ever since Lady Zhu began receiving guests again, the young maid had seen plenty of men like this. Her expression was openly tinged with disdain.
As they spoke, they crossed the covered bridge and walked a bit further, stopping in front of a reception hall.
“Young Master Wang and Young Master Cheng have arrived,” the maid announced.
“Please, show them in,” came a lady’s voice from inside.
Just the sound of that voice made Wang Shi’qi go weak in the knees. He reached out to steady himself by holding Cheng Si-lang’s arm.
The door was pulled open.
“Gentlemen, please come in,” Chun Ling said with a smile.
Wang Shi’qi stumbled in with uneven steps, and Cheng Si-lang had no choice but to follow him inside.
Seated gracefully inside was a lady, lightly made up, yet stunningly beautiful. She wore the kind of flamboyant gown typically worn by official courtesans from the Music Bureau, baring a generous portion of her chest—but somehow, she didn’t appear vulgar or tawdry at all.
“Zhu Heng here, greets the two young lords,” she said, bowing her head in a formal salute.
“So your name is Zhu Heng,” Wang Shi’qi said as he half-collapsed into his seat, sounding dazed.
“What do you think?” Lady Zhu looked up at him. Her expression seemed part surprise, part delight, with a hint of playful challenge—like a child awaiting praise after doing something well.
Wang Shi’qi felt his mind sway, his thoughts in disarray. He had no idea what to think—though even with a clear head, he probably wouldn’t have known how to answer. Flattery was just second nature to him.
But with such a beauty before him, he would never let himself be rude. Summoning what little clarity he had left, he nudged Cheng Si-lang.
“What do I think?” he whispered.
Naturally, such little gestures didn’t escape the notice of those in the room.
Lady Zhu looked toward Cheng Si-lang.
“I’m just joking—please, sir, don’t take me seriously,” she smiled.
Cheng Si-lang’s face immediately flushed even more.
“Not at all, not at all. Heng is for someone dependable,” he quickly said.
“Thank you for your praise,” Lady Zhu smiled. “Then this poem must be…”
“This is Young Master Cheng,” Chun Ling said.
“This poem must be written by Young Master Cheng, right?” Lady Zhu said with a smile, taking a few sheets of paper from the table. Her eyes shone with admiration and reverence. “You write very well.”
Cheng Si-lang suddenly felt prickles all over his body and couldn’t sit still. It wasn’t that he had never been praised before, nor that he was inexperienced in social interactions, but to be looked at with such admiring and astonished eyes by a stunning beauty felt like countless cats clawing at his heart.
“I—I don’t dare, I don’t dare,” he stammered.
Lady Zhu then turned her gaze toward Wang Shi’qi.
“This is Young Master Wang,” Chun Ling quickly introduced.
Hearing his name mentioned, Wang Shi’qi, who had been staring blankly at the beauty, suddenly snapped back to attention.
“Ah, yes, yes,” he hurriedly replied.
The two young maids kneeling behind them stifled their giggles.
Lady Zhu didn’t smile but looked seriously at Wang Shi’qi.
“Chun Ling said it was you who wanted to see me, and that you asked Young Master Cheng to write this poem. I don’t quite understand—then why didn’t you leave your own name, but instead credited Young Master Cheng?” she asked, blinking her big eyes.
“Oh, that poem wasn’t really mine to claim,” Wang Shi’qi laughed heartily. “Why should I take credit for it? Besides, this isn’t something I can just possess whenever I want. Even if it got me close to you, it wouldn’t stay a secret for long. I am who I am—I don’t need to pretend to be anyone else.”
“You really are an honest and straightforward gentleman!” Lady Zhu said, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and admiration, her eyes gradually filling with reverence.
Under the gaze of such a beautiful woman, Wang Shi’qi felt as if he had fallen into a dreamlike fairyland. His whole body felt light and dizzy, unable to tell north from south anymore.
The two maids stood up, went out to bring in food and wine, and closed the door behind them. One of them chuckled quietly.
“Where did these two country bumpkins come from? What a shame—they lose their composure so easily just from a few common flirtations…” she whispered. “And Sister, too, was so full of flattery for them.”
“She wasn’t flattering them for their sake. She meant well,” the other replied softly, glancing back at the door. “She wanted to comfort Chun Ling. Chun Ling was so mixed with joy and sorrow over meeting her hometown folks in front of her. Naturally, she wanted to cheer her up; otherwise, she wouldn’t have even seen those two strange men.”
“She truly treats people with sincerity,” the first maid sighed. “Chun Ling’s lucky to have helped her and to be remembered so kindly.”
“We’re lucky, too,” the other smiled.
They both laughed as they walked lightly down the corridor.
Behind them, the sound of a pipa floated through the air, lively and bright, tinkling melodiously and delightfully pleasing.
