The most prosperous city in Huozhou was Mu Er He. Owing to its geographical advantages, it had once been an important military garrison. A plague had struck a hundred years ago, and the military presence was withdrawn afterward — yet that very circumstance transformed the city into a free and open place that welcomed people from all corners of the world.
It was said that native-born people of Mu Er He were already a rarity. The majority of the city’s current residents were descendants of families who had relocated there generations ago — and after several generations, calling oneself a person of Mu Er He carried no irregularity at all. Among them were those who had risen, through three generations of hard work, to become the wealthiest family in Mu Er He. That was the Zou clan, whose fortune was built on rare and precious medicinal materials.
Yaoyi had always kept well-informed ears for jianghu affairs, and the news of that piece of jade had first emerged from Zou Mansion. To trace the matter back to its origin, one had to start with the family of Xiong Shi — the maternal relatives of the third concubine, who was the most favored among Master Zou Sifang’s concubines. Speaking of the family of Zou Sifang’s third concubine Xiong Shi: the Xiong and Zou families had long been bound together on the same boat. This marriage between their children was nothing more than relatives drawing even closer.
In its time, the Xiong family had also been a well-known landowner in the area outside Mu Er He. Bai Yaoguan, centuries past, had been a key point along a trade route, but had gradually fallen into disuse for reasons now lost to history and was eventually swallowed by the ever-expanding northern marshlands. It was precisely this desolate and uninhabited wasteland that the Zou family’s patriarch had long ago spotted as an opportunity for wealth.
The northern marshlands were not far from Guantian Gorge. Beneath the swamp lay an underground river flowing toward the Hunhe, and as the swamp filled with water, this underground river would flow in the direction of the gorge, slowly carrying certain things from deep within the marsh toward its edges.
Among these was a precious medicinal ingredient known as Lingqianxue — a crystalline substance that formed over the years inside the bones of deer that had become trapped and died in the marsh. Deep red in color and smooth as jade, it did not dissolve in water, but would dissolve in the blood of a virgin girl. A woman who consumed it was said to be preserved from aging.
Never mind whether the effects were genuine — the tales alone, spreading from one person to ten and from ten to a hundred, were enough to have wealthy and noble families willing to pay a thousand gold pieces to try it. The Zou family harvested the ingredient while the Xiong family guarded the territory. The two families had been running this miraculous medicine business together for three generations. The old patriarch of the Zou clan had been sharp-minded and had established a rule: no more than nine taels of Lingqianxue could be released for sale in any given year. This kept the supply scarce and the value high. Decades later, the price had not fallen — it had instead multiplied several times over.
With such wealth, the Zou clan had naturally become one of the richest families in the region, and the Xiong family had risen with them — even their daughters born of secondary wives were considered to be marrying beneath their station if matched with a county magistrate. The two families had coexisted in harmony for many years, but in the generation of Zou Sifang, troubles arose.
This brought matters to Zou Sifang’s principal wife, Zhao Shi. Zhao Shi was a true native of Mu Er He. Her family, though not especially wealthy in gold and silver, was considered genuine old nobility. By conventional reckoning, marrying into the Zou family was quite a good match. But no one could have foreseen that this principal wife, nearly seven or eight years after crossing the threshold, had failed to produce a single son. Faced with the prospect of the Zou bloodline dying out, Zou Sifang took on two concubines in quick succession — one of them being the Xiong family’s daughter, inserted by her clan.
This single development set off the drums of internal family warfare.
Zhao Shi felt her position threatened. She clamped her grip firmly around the opportunity of bearing a son, keeping the family members of these two new concubines locked out from the start. In Xiong Shi’s first year in the household, she didn’t so much as glimpse her own relatives’ faces. Beyond that, Zhao Shi had been whispering something in the master’s ear — she was scheming to buy up the Xiong family’s land in the marshland area.
As it stood, the medicinal materials business was entirely managed by the Zou family, while the Xiong family simply sat back and collected their share in exchange for providing the land. If the land were bought out from under them, the Xiong family could be cut off once and for all — with the Zou family as the sole dominant force, it was only a matter of time.
The Xiong family was desperate. They had tried every manner of scheme, open and covert, and recently had stumbled upon an opportunity by chance.
Roughly a month prior, Xiong Bingnan was making his rounds inspecting the family’s territory when, in a spot close to the deeper part of the marsh, he came upon a skeleton somewhat larger than a deer — by the look of it, a horse or an ox.
The edges of the marsh were soft and yielding underfoot, and any animal with some weight to it would sense the danger of sinking into the mud at the periphery and would not venture deep into the marsh. Large prey like wild rabbits and field mice were too light to be swallowed by the swamp, and only smaller deer or river deer might fall into the bog. So a carcass of this size was immediately suspicious to Xiong Bingnan. He opened up the skeleton and found inside — a piece of jade.
The jade was square and flat, clearly cut by human hands but without excessive carving. Its luster and purity were unlike anything he had ever seen before.
How had jade come to be inside an animal’s remains? Xiong Bingnan was a rough man — he only knew it was something valuable, without knowing why it was valuable. After some deliberation, he figured the best course was to offer it as a gift, and so he privately called upon Master Zou and presented the jade to him.
Huozhou was a large territory, but Mu Er He was a small town. Word spread on its own, and interested parties had long set their eyes on Zou Sifang and whatever he had in his possession. Several parties had already approached his door with offers of purchase. But Master Zou was no fool — he had naturally sensed that something was unusual, and was all the more unwilling to let it go easily. And so arose the rumor that he had paid a handsome sum to bring in members of the Qu family to appraise the jade — which in turn had led to Xiao Nanhui’s current journey.
When all was said and done, aside from Master Zou and Xiong Bingnan, very likely no one else had actually laid eyes on what that piece of jade looked like. There would be no shortage of those who wished to find out. A mixed and motley place like an inn was certainly not the best choice of lodging.
As soon as Xiao Nanhui and Bolao entered the city, they headed straight for the liveliest street. In a place where the local customs were as open as they were here, entertainment establishments were always especially popular. A pleasure house of the caliber of Wangchen Tower would be on a considerably larger scale here than anything in Quecheng.
The last traces of the setting sun had not yet faded, and the sky still glowed with the red of the evening clouds — yet the entire entertainment district was already ablaze with lanterns. The air was damp and cold, but it was clearly not cold enough to chill the passionate hearts of Huozhou’s people seeking nighttime pleasures.
The whole street was suffused with a faint, hovering fragrance of cosmetic powder. These fine scented particles drifting through the air gave even the lamplight and shadows an almost tangible shape — the curling smoke rising like delicate ribbons, coiling around the nostrils of patrons and making their hearts itch with longing.
Wangchen Tower’s manager on duty that day was surnamed Zhou — known to all as Zhou Waiye, “Grandfather Zhou,” because every young entertainer in the establishment, male and female alike, was his “grandchild.”
Zhou Waiye was in particularly fine form today, having already intercepted several wealthy patrons in a row, driving the establishment across the street, the Plucked Blossom Pavilion, to fits of envy. The purple-breasted roller bird on his shoulder seemed all the more vivid and striking for it. He had a naturally agreeable, affable appearance of a mild old man, and stood greeting customers while tending to his bird — a far more appealing sight than any of the madams one might encounter elsewhere.
At that moment two more handsome young gentlemen came strolling in. The more presentable young entertainers were already occupied, so Zhou Waiye hurried to receive them in person.
“Gentlemen, you’ve truly come to the right place today. In a short while we have a centerpiece performance — and wouldn’t you know it, two of the reserved seats for the main hall were just vacated by guests who had unexpected matters come up. It’s as though these seats were made to order for the two of you — perfect for enjoying both the music and the dancing.”
Xiao Nanhui gave a quiet cough, reached inside her garment, and produced the thin paper packet Yaoyi had given her, which she extended forward.
The other man took it, broke the seal, and looked inside — it contained a single grey-brown bird feather.
The moment Zhou Waiye saw that feather, the smile in his eyes from one moment prior drooped entirely flat: “So it’s an honored guest from the imperial capital. You’ve come at quite the convenient time — right in the middle of my busiest hours.”
She had seen this kind of mercenary attitude from people like Yaoyi before and was well prepared for it. She signaled to Bolao, who produced the silver they had prepared in advance.
“We truly find it inconvenient to stay at an inn, which is why we’ve troubled you with this imposition. A small gesture — please do not refuse it, manager.”
This was, after all, a contact already arranged through a mutual acquaintance, and Zhou Waiye’s remarks had been little more than the venting of a sour mood. But her having handled things so tactfully was rather unexpected, and he nimbly swept the silver into his sleeve. He then casually called over a young attendant who happened to be passing with a stack of empty fruit trays.
“Jin Dou’er, come here a moment — show these two gentlemen to the rear courtyard. Isn’t there an empty side room next to A’Xi’s? See to having it tidied up.”
The attendant paused, looked at Xiao Nanhui and Bolao: “You two, follow me.”
Xiao Nanhui and Bolao made a bow of courtesy to Zhou Waiye, who returned the greeting with equal politeness. The three then each went their separate ways.
Threading through the interlocking pavilion rooftops of Wangchen Tower, the lively sounds of voices gradually receded. The moment they stepped into the rear courtyard, quiet descended on all sides at once — this had been a place designed with deliberate intent, its purpose to afford the “principal occupants” within a measure of peace and calm.
The rear courtyard was a compound built in a square-ring formation, its inner courtyard a riot of red and green blossoms. A few of the entertainers who were not receiving guests that day lay idling among the flowers amusing themselves. Upon spotting Xiao Nanhui and Bolao, they fell silent in surprise. Those who found the newcomers handsome were bold enough to pluck flowers and toss them over. Bolao cheerfully accepted each and every one.
Over on the far side, Jin Dou’er had already climbed to the third floor and was leaning against the wooden railing, urging them from above: “Hurry along now, don’t dawdle.”
Xiao Nanhui quickly pulled Bolao upstairs. Jin Dou’er looked no older than twelve or thirteen, yet carried herself with a practiced air of experience through every motion. She led the two of them to a door carved with an openwork pattern of jade hairpin flowers, and pointed to the latticed blossoms above: “This is the white jade hairpin room — yours for the duration of your stay. When coming and going, do mind yourselves carefully; from dawn through midday, please keep your footsteps light and avoid disturbing those on either side.”
She agreed to everything carefully, gave the room a good look, and found it satisfactory. She then turned to Jin Dou’er: “There is just one more matter I’d like to ask of you — our two horses are still tied at the front entrance. Would you be kind enough to have someone look after them?”
Jin Dou’er seemed to pause for a moment, then bowed her head in a compliant manner: “Of course — I’ll send someone right away.”
She noticed nothing unusual and replied with courtesy: “Thank you for the trouble.”
“Not at all. I still have things to attend to and will take my leave now.”
Jin Dou’er made a small bow, then turned and left quickly.
Xiao Nanhui and Bolao settled their belongings, and the very first thing they did was peel off their somewhat damp outer robes and change into fresh dry clothing.
She lifted down the cloth bundle she had been carrying on her back. Bolao spotted it from the corner of her eye and snatched it away without ceremony: “You actually brought it along? Didn’t we agree to keep a low profile?”
She reached out to take it back, but the other girl dodged with nimble ease. She could only look on in helpless resignation.
“Can’t I just carry it for peace of mind?”
Bolao shook her head: “That’s purely in your head. This time we’re not heading into battle — and besides, you’ve got me. There’s nothing to worry about.”
You?! You’re the one I can’t stop worrying about!
But Bolao had already rummaged through the luggage, fished out a short dagger, and tossed it to her: “Use this for now.”
Xiao Nanhui had something more to say, but at that moment a man’s voice drifted in from the corridor, carrying the tone of complaint.
“That Zou person cancels without a word of notice — I turned down Master Li’s gathering on his account and offended the man for nothing.”
A younger voice, sounding considerably more composed, replied quietly: “Master Xi, please keep your voice down — everyone in the building can hear you. People will talk.”
So this was A’Xi — their “neighbor.”
She had not expected that Master Zou, with three concubines waiting at home, would still come to a place like this to seek different company.
Xiao Nanhui and Bolao pulled the door mostly closed, drew their heads back in, and continued listening.
“It’s not as though I need to say it — this news has already been flying through the air for everyone to hear, hasn’t it? And Yan Jie was strung along too — chances are she’s going to start throwing things any moment now.”
Well, well — so it had been a plan involving both men and women. Quite the appetite.
“There’s nothing to be done about it. I heard from Little Six of the Huichun Hall that Master Zou is gravely ill — has been for some time. They say he can’t even get out of bed anymore — can he possibly come to a place like this?”
Gravely ill? Wait —
She shoved the door open. Beneath the startled gazes of the two people in the corridor, she spoke quickly: “Is what you’ve said true?”
The one called A’Xi was indeed handsome, with a pair of naturally flirtatious peach-blossom eyes that now carried a thread of wariness. He looked Xiao Nanhui and Bolao up and down: “You’re new? What shocking manners.”
She kept her patience and explained: “You’ve misunderstood, young sir. My young companion and I are both friends of Zhou Waiye’s, just staying here for a few days.”
A’Xi’s expression eased somewhat upon hearing this, though he remained somewhat languid: “Honored guests, then — I won’t keep you. As for what was just said — you may as well pretend you heard nothing.” With that, he stepped toward the room next door, the one carved with begonia blossoms, pushed the door open, and went inside. A moment later he noticed the person who had been following behind him had not moved.
The person behind him — who had the appearance of a young attendant — was staring in the direction of Xiao Nanhui, and seemed fixated on the door of the jade hairpin flower room standing open behind her, a blank look on his face.
A’Xi called out with a note of displeasure: “A’Lu.”
The one called A’Lu snapped back to himself, quickly gave Xiao Nanhui a brief bow, and hurried inside, pulling the door shut behind him.
Xiao Nanhui opened her mouth, then swallowed the question she’d been about to ask.
She had made deliberate inquiries before setting out, and learning that Wangchen Tower was a place Master Zou frequented regularly, she had pestered Yaoyi shamelessly for the arrangement to stay here. Yet it now turned out to be such poor timing — the man was holed up at home and not coming out.
Still, hearsay and rumor were prone to inaccuracies. A few complications were nothing to worry about. As long as Zou Sifang hadn’t left Mu Er He, she refused to believe she couldn’t track this man down.
But — Zou Sifang, gravely ill?
The face of a certain someone flashed involuntarily through her mind.
While she was still turning the thought over, Bolao reached into her discarded outer garment and felt around until she found something, held it under her nose and sniffed, then spoke with a puzzled air: “Why do you have a Zhidan pill? And a white one at that?”
She looked back blankly: “A Zhidan pill?”
Bolao placed the object in her palm. Xiao Nanhui stared at it and murmured: “That’s what Hao Bai gave me on the boat — he said it was to thank me for the incident on the river.”
Bolao clicked her tongue: “He’s a genuine sort, at least. Zhidan is a fine thing — just not easy to come by in the jianghu these days. The ones I used to steal from my master were bright yellow. I’ll have to track him down and get more out of him one of these days.”
Xiao Nanhui stared at the small white pill, lost in thought.
Two streets away, in a large manor house, the three concubines of Master Zou were weeping in the main reception hall with all the beauty of pear blossoms in the rain. Seated in the center was Zhao Shi, the principal wife — her makeup immaculate, but unable to fully conceal the exhaustion beneath.
Zhao Shi uttered the final word of her account and had nothing more to say. She returned to her tea with composed self-possession.
This had to be the countless time in the past ten days that she had recounted the circumstances of Zou Sifang’s collapse. The listeners had rotated through one group after another; the concubines’ tears had flowed and flowed again — and yet Master Zou showed not the slightest improvement. And this person in front of her now, who didn’t even have a single hair on his chin — how reliable could he possibly be?
Thinking of it, she didn’t even have the energy to be angry. She felt only weariness. She waved a hand to summon the household steward: “Has the consultation fee been prepared? If Master Hao is not able to help, let him take his silver and be on his way.”
The white-clad and white-booted young gentleman standing before her — with not a hair yet grown on his chin — was none other than Hao Bai.
Hao Bai wore an expression of deep contemplation, and clearly had no intention of taking the money and leaving.
“Master Hao?”
Hao Bai returned to himself and produced once more the pouch filled with silver needles: “Madam, please do not be hasty. I may be young, but I have traveled widely over many years and have encountered no small number of difficult and unusual ailments. What you have just described to me is by no means the most dire situation I have seen.”
“This is not dire?” Zhao Shi was taken aback — tea sloshed and nearly spilled half the cup. “He has been in a deep sleep for an entire half month. Never mind taking medicine — he cannot even drink water. Were it not for the occasional breath still passing through him, I’d have sent someone for a coffin long ago.”
“If Madam will trust me, please allow me to conduct an examination in person.”
Zhao Shi fell quiet. She knew that at this point, there was nothing left but to try everything possible. If Master Zou were to simply die like this, the three concubines would inevitably tear into her. With no son of her own to her name, if she wanted her future to be bearable, the head of this household absolutely could not be the first to draw his last breath.
“In that case — we shall be in your capable hands, Master Hao.”