◎Heart of Fragrance◎

Bo Ying finished off the plate of peanuts down to the last one, then strode up to the entrance of the Heart of Fragrance House with Qu You in tow, full of swagger — only to be stopped by an errand boy at the door, hand held out.

“You two…” A flicker of suspicion crossed the errand boy’s eyes. “We don’t welcome scholars here.”

They didn’t welcome scholars?

Since ancient times, pleasure houses had always been the favorite haunt of literary men — even one set up on North Street would surely draw the occasional impoverished scholar. Not welcoming scholars at all — did that mean they only served laborers?

But this crowd hardly had the money to spend that scholars did.

Bo Ying’s eyes flicked over, and he immediately switched his tone, speaking gruffly to Qu You. “I told you already — why put on airs pretending to be a scholar when you can’t even read a single character, and now here you are acting all high and mighty!”

He turned back to the errand boy. “Where would this brother of mine ever get the money to study? He’s just envious of how refined the scholars on the street look, so he came here to put on a show.”

Qu You quickly played along, calling out to him with feigned shame and anger. “You haven’t got two coins to your name yourself, and you dare talk about me! I bet these gentlemen just took one look at how poor and shabby we are and wouldn’t let us in!”

Hearing her coarse manner of speech, and seeing that the clothes on both of them were indeed cheap, the errand boy’s expression softened at once. “Now what kind of talk is that — our business is everyone’s business here. Dingxiang, come out and greet the guests.”

No sooner had he finished than a woman in yellow, her face wreathed in smiles, came forward to greet them, taking Bo Ying by one arm and Qu You by the other, sweet as syrup as she led them inside. “Gentlemen, what sort of lady do you fancy? I’ll find you just the one!”

Qu You put on a leering act, stroking her chin, and asked in a gruff, feigned tone of displeasure, “Where’s the madam of this place? Why don’t we see her around — doesn’t she want to receive us?”

“Not at all, not at all — Mama’s caught a chill these past few days, Dingxiang here will look after you just fine.” Dingxiang smiled, eyes narrowing, and called out once more. Before long, the very women the two of them had spotted from the teahouse across the street came filing down the stairs, lining up in front of them.

Bo Ying looked mildly startled, and put on a look of awkward embarrassment as he said sheepishly to Dingxiang, “The ladies certainly look fine — it’s just, why bring all of them down at once, sister? As for our coin…”

Qu You cut in, speaking loudly, “Big Brother, we’ve got money! I just earned fifty coppers yesterday…”

“What matters most is that our guests enjoy themselves — just tip a couple of them as you like.” Hearing the two of them speak, the errand boy who had followed them in smiled even more broadly, shot Dingxiang a meaningful glance, and turned to leave the shabby main hall.

Qu You glanced around at her surroundings. The two-story building looked old and worn both outside and in — the beaded curtain on the ground floor was coated in a thick layer of dust, and even the drapes had faded somewhat.

Yet the women standing before her were even more striking than Qu You had expected. She’d only ever set foot inside the Hall of Spring Breeze and Timely Rain before, but looking at these women’s faces, they’d have held their own even in the most glamorous part of the city.

Dingxiang seemed to sense their hesitation and grew slightly suspicious. “Gentlemen…”

Qu You hastily pointed at one of the women at random, and let her lead her and Bo Ying up to the second floor. As they climbed the stairs, she heard the sound of porcelain shattering somewhere behind them, and Dingxiang, following close behind, quickly explained with a smile, “New girl, doesn’t listen well.”

The two of them were shown into a small room, the air heavy with the scent of cheap incense. Bo Ying gave her a subtle shake of the head, signaling that there was nothing toxic in it.

The moment the door closed, the woman who had followed them up began, expressionlessly, to undress.

Bo Ying startled, and quickly grabbed back the clothing she’d just removed. The woman froze, and it was then that Qu You spotted a tattooed mark behind her ear. She lowered her voice. “Are you from an official household?”

Only then did the woman’s expression truly change. She glanced behind her, then said aloud, “This one is called Zhi Ling, my lords.”

Zhi Ling had them sit at the table, then went to close the window, all the while deliberately keeping up the chatter. “And what line of work are you two gentlemen in? You’re both so handsome.”

From somewhere, she produced a brush with frayed, splayed bristles, dipped it in the tea on the table, and began writing — the characters drying almost as fast as she wrote them: Can you two read?

Bo Ying played along, teasing back in the same vein. “As if anyone could compare to the lovely Miss Zhi Ling!”

Qu You nodded, but her heart sank.

So her guess had been right after all — there was something deeply wrong with this Heart of Fragrance House!

The errand boys stationed at the door were probably listening in on whatever happened inside the room, which was likely why Zhi Ling had no choice but to communicate by writing.

Their earlier remark about “not welcoming scholars” was probably because so few of the people who frequented North Street could actually read.

Zhi Ling had remained guarded around the two of them at first, but the moment Qu You wrote the three characters “Gu Xianghui” on the table, she couldn’t help but let her guard down.

Her lips trembled, and even the hand holding the brush shook slightly, though she kept up her act, saying with practiced ease and not a trace of shame, “No need to rush, my lord,” and similar lines.

Bo Ying played along too, adding a few more lines of banter.

Zhi Ling dipped her brush and wrote with astonishing speed. Qu You watched from the side, growing more alarmed by the second — if she hadn’t been worried about arousing suspicion, she might have swept the teacups off the table right then and there.

She forced herself to stay calm, patiently continuing to watch. But before even the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn down, a distinctly ringing sound of bells came from outside the door.

Hearing it, Zhi Ling flinched as though she’d heard something terrifying. She dashed to the window, pushed it open, glanced out, then turned back and wrote with trembling hands: Young Master Yan is here.

Young Master Yan?

Wasn’t Young Master Yan the very lover of Gu Xianghui, the one surnamed Yan?

Qu You walked to the door and opened it a crack, catching a faint voice saying, “How dare you let people in—” She was just about to call Bo Ying over when she felt a sharp, icy sting at the back of her neck.

Zhou Tan closed the case file in front of him and realized it was already dusk.

The slanting evening sun filtered in through the bamboo lattice window of his study. The room had originally been called the “Hall of Careful Conduct,” the traditional office of whoever headed the Ministry of Justice. After he’d arrived, he’d had the blood-stained plaque bearing that name taken down, and from then on everyone simply called it “the study.”

Old bloodstains still lingered faintly on the window frame. Zhou Tan, despite his mild cleanliness compulsion, reached out and brushed the dust from it instead of having it removed. He turned to go wash his hands, when two knocks sounded at the door, and He San, a guard from the Ministry of Justice, pushed it open and bowed respectfully to him. “Lord Zhou.”

Zhou Tan gave a slight nod but said nothing. He San drew a register from his side and presented it to him with great deference. “We’ve confirmed that among the two hundred and three people in the Court of Judicial Review, only one is surnamed Yan. His name is Yan Wuping. He’s only nominally registered with the Court of Judicial Review — in truth, he’s a close confidant of Peng Yue, the Chief Minister of the Court of Judicial Review. The Court of Judicial Review has no file on him at all; it seems we’ll need to notify Minister Peng and coordinate the investigation with him.”

He kept his head bowed, and it was a long moment before he heard Zhou Tan give a soft, entirely unsurprised “Mm.”

Not daring to hold anything back, He San continued, “There’s one more thing. While we were looking into Yan Wuping, we found that he happened to go to the Heart of Fragrance House this afternoon, and he still hasn’t come out. The men you assigned to follow my lady discovered that she went there as well. You told us before not to alert anyone prematurely, but since this concerns my lady’s safety, I came back to ask whether we should go in.”

Zhou Tan paused, then said, “No need.”

So Lord Zhou really was as cold-hearted as they said, He San thought privately. He’d only ever heard, back when he first came to the Ministry of Justice, that the man was ruthless in his methods — but he’d never imagined that, for the sake of not alerting anyone prematurely, he wouldn’t even care about the safety of his own newlywed wife.

He bowed respectfully, hands lowered, and was about to leave when he remembered something else, and lowered his voice. “My lord, the matter you asked me to handle — it’s done.”

Back when Zhou Tan had first arrived at the Ministry of Justice, he had once instructed He San to deliver a sandalwood box on his behalf, handing it over privately to a man in black at Fan Tower. A few days ago, he’d had him deliver a large sum in banknotes to that same man as well.

Zhou Tan had no confidants at the Ministry of Justice, and the fact that he often turned to He San for such things was probably because He San rarely spoke much.

The less one knew about the doings of powerful men like this, the safer it was — He San understood this well, and never asked more than necessary.

Zhou Tan gave a simple “Good,” but then walked right up to him. He San glanced up, somewhat nervous, only to see Zhou Tan draw a fifty-tael banknote from his sleeve and hand it to him.

He San felt a wave of dizziness wash over him — his mother had been ill for a long time, and just her medicine alone cost a tael a month. His salary barely covered it as it was; he’d never seen this much money at once.

“This is your reward,” Zhou Tan said, his voice giving away nothing. “You’ve done well. Don’t let anyone know of this.”

Hush money, without a doubt.

Whatever it was Zhou Tan had asked him to do — it might not even be anything so simple.

He San gave a start, and immediately dropped to his knees in a deep bow, nearly biting his own tongue in the process. “Yes, my lord.”