Su Hongyu, like Yao Xishui, was also one of the six top courtesans that Wanhong Pavilion vigorously promoted.
Su Hongyu had achieved fame several years earlier than Yao Xishui. Approximately twenty-three or twenty-four years old with a voluptuous figure and an extremely beautiful face, she sat before a pavilion wearing a snow-white fur garment. Her purple and blue gauze skirt spread out like a flower in full bloom as she tuned her zither facing the pond in the courtyard where lotus leaves stood withered. The pebble-paved walkway along the pond’s edge was covered with snow that had not yet accumulated substantially.
Han Qian looked up at the sky, not knowing when the snow had stopped, though the firmament remained lead-gray and gloomy.
Seeing Han Qian barge directly in, Su Hongyu glanced up at Yao Xishui following behind him but made no other indication, continuing to bow her head and intermittently pluck the strings.
From this brief exchange of glances, Han Qian could confirm that Su Hongyu, like Yao Xishui, was a core figure at Wanhong Pavilion privy to secrets.
At Wanhong Pavilion, the six top courtesans sold their art but not their bodies, each with their own specialty. Yao Xishui was renowned for her sword dance, while Su Hongyu’s zither artistry was unrivaled in Jinling, provoking hundreds and thousands of young masters in Jinling to lavishly spend a thousand in gold just to hear one melody.
Han Qian could only barely be considered a high minister’s son. His father held junior fourth rank office, but it was a sinecure position. Therefore, among Jinling’s aristocratic sons, he could not be considered first-rate in prominence.
He had previously been obsessed with the courtesans of Wanhong Pavilion but had never had the opportunity to hear Su Hongyu play the zither, much less the chance to watch Yao Xishui perform sword dance.
That was not quite accurate—half a month ago, Han Qian had seen Yao Xishui come at him with a sword.
Capable of cultivating figures like Su Hongyu and Yao Xishui, not knowing how many assassins and killers they had trained and hidden in the shadows—what kind of organization was Wanhong Pavilion really?
Not to mention Wanhong Pavilion controlled such abundant resources—why would Marquis Xinchang and Consort Shi Madam Wang feel secure cooperating with them to fully support the Third Prince Yang Yuanpu?
How could Marquis Xinchang and Consort Shi Madam Wang so easily believe that after pushing Yang Yuanpu to the imperial throne, Wanhong Pavilion would not harbor other malicious intentions?
What was the story behind the Third Prince Yang Yuanpu’s statement that Consort Shi Madam Wang and the woman in black gauze had mutually supported each other and shared hardships at the Guangling Military Commissioner’s mansion?
Could it be that Consort Shi Madam Wang’s ability to serve beside Empress Xu and thus have the opportunity to receive Emperor Tianyou’s favor and give birth to the Third Prince Yang Yuanpu was all part of Wanhong Pavilion’s scheming?
When the Third Prince Yang Yuanpu was born, Emperor Tianyou was still the Huainan Military Commissioner and had not yet officially founded the Chu Kingdom, while Empress Xu’s younger brother Xu Mingzhen had only inherited the position of Guangling Military Commissioner a few years prior.
If Wanhong Pavilion had already been scheming and plotting before that time, what kind of existence was Wanhong Pavilion really?
Han Qian harbored too many questions about Wanhong Pavilion in his heart. Walking into the pavilion and seeing brocade carpets laid inside, he removed his boots and entered, sitting down leaning against the railing without speaking.
Seeing Han Qian at this moment acting like a willful child who had suffered a tremendous grievance, Yao Xishui found herself at a loss. She smiled bitterly at Su Hongyu with open palms, indicating that today’s situation was somewhat out of control, then also followed Han Qian into the pavilion to sit down.
“Has little sister Xishui suffered anger from Young Master Han?” Su Hongyu asked with a face full of smiles like flowers. “Little sister Xishui is young with high spirits. If there was any disrespect, this humble woman will play one melody to help Young Master Han dissipate his anger?”
At this moment, Han Qian had no energy or spirit to match wits with Su Hongyu and Yao Xishui. He sat there without answering, only listening to Su Hongyu play the zither. Seeing pastries on the long table in the pavilion, he directly took them to eat. When the sky darkened, he climbed up to put on his boots and walked toward the exit of Wanhong Pavilion. Sure enough, Fan Dahei, Lin Haizheng, and Zhao Wuji were waiting outside the courtyard holding horses for him.
“Why didn’t the young master say something before running to Wanhong Pavilion to listen to music?” Fan Dahei, being straightforward by nature, could not help complaining when he saw Han Qian emerge from Wanhong Pavilion. “With such a major incident happening at the residence today, the young master should at least have made a trip back first before coming out to make merry.”
Han Qian looked up at Lin Haizheng and Zhao Wuji. Seeing they both appeared rather impatient from waiting outside Wanhong Pavilion, he guessed that staying together with the guards from Marquis Linjiang’s mansion, they had long since learned what had happened at the morning court session today.
With such a major upheaval occurring in the Han family, possibly even resulting in complete ruin, yet he had run to Wanhong Pavilion to seek pleasure—as household soldiers, Fan Dahei and Lin Haizheng could not possibly have no thoughts or feelings of their own. Their anxious mood was perfectly normal.
The matters involved were too complex to explain clearly in a short time. Han Qian lowered his voice and said to Fan Dahei: “Do you think what your eyes see and ears hear is the truth of the matter? Things are sometimes far more complex and bizarre than what you witness with your own eyes.”
Fan Dahei did not speak further but dismissed Han Qian’s words. He kicked the purple-maned horse once, driving it to Han Qian’s side.
Han Qian glared at Fan Dahei but, thinking he was also worried about the Han family’s affairs, held back from rebuking him. He mounted the horse with a gloomy expression and, surrounded by Fan Dahei, Lin Haizheng, and Zhao Wuji, passed through streets and alleys to rush home.
Arriving at the residence, night had already darkened and snowflakes fluttered down from the night sky again. Han Qian handed the horse to household soldiers waiting at the outer residence to lead away. Walking through the decorative gate, he saw his father standing with hands in sleeves before a pomegranate tree with withered branches and fallen leaves, watching the snow. Fan Xicheng and Zhao Kuo stood silently behind his father.
Han Qian removed his cloak, shook off the accumulated snow, and handed it to Zhao Ting’er who came from the west corridor to meet him. Seeing his father still lost in contemplation and not noticing his return, he called out: “Father, I’m back.”
“Why so late?” Han Daoxun turned around and asked.
“After accompanying His Highness to meet Marquis Xinchang this afternoon, my heart felt stifled, so I went to Wanhong Pavilion to listen to music,” Han Qian said. After saying this, his eyes glanced at Fan Dahei standing behind him, still somewhat emotional. He thought that if the historical trajectory did not change, this simple-minded fellow would most likely be the first to step forward and stab him in the back.
“It’s good that you met with Marquis Xinchang.” This was what Han Daoxun cared about; everything else was minor details.
From the emergence of the “Memorial on the Epidemic Waters” and subsequent implementation to make it most beneficial to the refugees, most had been Han Qian’s ideas. He believed Han Qian could grasp the appropriate measure of things at this time.
“Marquis Xinchang Li Pu came forward to undertake this matter on behalf of Marquis Linjiang’s mansion. Anning Palace will most likely become vigilant. Moreover, Father, not only has your reputation suffered this time, you may also face retaliation and suppression from Anning Palace. Father, are you truly willing to accept this?”
Han Qian had not thought to ask Yao Xishui what methods she would use to seal Feng Yi and Kong Xirong’s mouths. But even if the matter of his serving the Third Prince did not spread through Feng Yi’s mouth, as long as Marquis Linjiang’s mansion undertook the relief of refugees, Anning Palace and the Crown Prince’s faction could not possibly remain completely unaware.
To be honest, Yao Xishui was right. If not for Marquis Xinchang Li Pu and the others forcing his hand this time, he had still been thinking of delaying for a while, even considering whether to wait until some refugees had crossed the river heading north before bringing out the “Memorial on the Epidemic Waters.” Only then would it not alarm Anning Palace and not place the Han family in danger.
However, many things might not develop as he anticipated. Now they could only hope that Marquis Xinchang’s mansion and Wanhong Pavilion could fully recognize that his father and he still had great use, that they would exert effort to protect them to the death, making it difficult for Anning Palace to scheme and frame them.
“Are you afraid?” Han Daoxun smiled and asked.
Han Qian groaned painfully in his heart: Of course I’m afraid! If not for fearing you would stubbornly confront Emperor Tianyou to the death, if not for fearing that one day you would be beaten to death with rods before the hall and I would be torn apart by chariots in the marketplace, would I go to such lengths?
Han Daoxun naturally did not know what Han Qian was thinking in his heart. He looked up at the elegantly falling snowflakes and smiled:
“Though Anning Palace is domineering, even if they become aware, at most they will interfere and strip me of my official position. But if this winter we can prevent even a few refugees from freezing or starving to death, what does it matter if my reputation suffers or my position is stripped? However, regarding the Third Prince, you still need to watch closely. Each day grows colder than the last. With each day that passes, countless corpses pile up along the roads…”
“The Third Prince and Marquis Xinchang have doubts, but I told the Third Prince and Marquis Xinchang that the first batch of plague-infected refugees could be settled on the lake beach at Taowu Market between the Qiuhu Mountain villa and Chishan Lake. Seeing they were quite moved, perhaps they will have a decision in the next couple of days,” Han Qian said. “Marquis Xinchang’s mansion may be preparing in haste. Father can have Manager Fan and the others return to the Qiuhu Mountain villa first to stockpile some grain in case of urgent need—so that from the moment refugees migrate to Taowu Market, not one person will go hungry.”
“Excellent. Xicheng, you return to the estate immediately. Don’t concern yourselves with affairs in the city,” Han Daoxun nodded and immediately instructed Fan Xicheng to act according to plan. He asked Han Laoshan again: “How much money and goods remain in the residence?”
“Still over twenty thousand coins,” Han Laoshan said with a bitter smile.
This year the floods were severe, and with year’s end approaching, grain prices in Jinling City had soared. Twenty thousand coins could at most buy two thousand catties of grain.
Two thousand catties of grain was enough for the seventy or eighty people in the residence for one month, but if thousands or tens of thousands of plague-infected refugees truly surged into Taowu Market, two thousand catties of grain would not even suffice for one meal of thin gruel!
“Zhao Kuo has over a hundred ingots of gold stored away. Use them all first,” Han Qian said with feigned generosity.
During this period, Feng Yi had dominated with his undefeated gambling technique, and Han Qian had profited greatly, unknowingly accumulating over a hundred gold ingots. But such business could only continue temporarily. With Feng Yi only winning and never losing, no one would gamble black and white touzi with him in the future.
Bestowing small favors and kindnesses in exchange for the loyalty and gratitude of household soldiers and tenant farmers, and gaining a good reputation—Han Qian was willing to do this. But thinking about having to bring out all the gold he had accumulated with such difficulty during this period, only to exchange it for an approving and gratified look from his old man, he felt his heart dripping blood as if stabbed by a knife.