Qin Chang Ge, dressed in men’s clothing and disguised as a dark-skinned, thick-browed man, held Xiao Baozi’s hand as they stood on the bustling East An Street, both craning their necks to look up at the towering, ornately decorated main gate with its three golden characters “Prince Zhao’s Manor” gleaming brilliantly.

“Wow—” Xiao Baozi gnawed on his finger, his face full of envy. “Such big characters—taller than me—how much gold must that be? Can we scrape some off?”

“Oh,” Qin Chang Ge replied without the slightest surprise, “once you learn martial arts and can fly, you can go scrape it yourself.”

“Martial arts…” Xiao Baozi deflated. “I want to learn from the person with the best martial arts.”

“Guild Leader Su is exactly that,” Qin Chang Ge looked at him in puzzlement. “I say, Rong’er, don’t you love Xiliang, love martial arts, love your mother? And martial arts ranks even before your mother. With Guild Leader Su, that golden, brilliant number one in the world right before your eyes, why don’t you cry and beg to become his disciple?”

“It’s all because of you—” Xiao Baozi complained resentfully. “Of course I know his martial arts are good and he’s formidable, but every time I see him smiling at you, I get angry. Being angry affects my interest in becoming his disciple.”

Qin Chang Ge turned to look at him, raising one eyebrow. “I say, Rong’er, you don’t have a mother complex, do you? You wouldn’t go wielding a knife to kill your stepfather if I ever get married, would you?”

“You’re getting married?” Xiao Baozi shrieked. “To whom? Who? Who? That Guild Leader Su? Or that effeminate guy? Who?”

He spun around in circles, furious. “No way—none of them are good people!”

Raising her head to the sky, Qin Chang Ge silently lamented, but Baozi suddenly pounced over, clinging to her leg and whispering mysteriously, “I think, if you absolutely must marry, you should marry that uncle we met last time—the one with the bad leg, the one I gave the jade lock piece to.”

“Huh?” Qin Chang Ge blinked, not quite believing her ears. Baozi’s taste was quite… unique.

“Don’t be one who disdains the poor and loves the rich,” Baozi accused. “That uncle is actually quite good. You were too far away to see, but I saw his eyes—very beautiful!”

“Beautiful eyes make someone a good person?” Qin Chang Ge looked at Xiao Baozi curiously. “I remember Prince Yu also has very beautiful eyes—quite enchanting.”

“Him!” Xiao Baozi snorted dismissively. “Different, completely different.”

“What’s different?”

After gnashing his teeth and tilting his head in thought for a long while, Xiao Baozi finally gave up in defeat. “I can’t explain it, but it’s just different…”

Qin Chang Ge ignored him, glancing at the Four Seasons Spring restaurant not far away, and suddenly said, “That day when Qi Heng came back covering his nose—that was your doing, wasn’t it?”

Xiao Baozi blinked with a grin. “Wasn’t it you who taught me? That porridge—I taught the head chef how to make it. He didn’t believe me at first. I said when you make this, Master Heng loves it most and will definitely reward you, so he made it.”

He smiled like a fox that had stolen a chicken. “That day, Miss Wancui, who sings so well, was singing at Uncle Heng’s table again. Uncle Heng was drinking porridge while listening, even saying today’s porridge had a special flavor, and rewarded the chef with silver. Then—he got a nosebleed. The whole restaurant erupted in laughter. Miss Wancui’s face turned red as a big red cloth. Haha, Uncle Heng lost such face—he won’t dare go drink porridge for at least a month… Haha…”

The unscrupulous mother and son looked at each other and smiled—identically.

Taking her son with her, Qin Chang Ge strode toward Prince Zhao’s Manor—toward the side entrance.

Prince Zhao’s Manor welcomed talented scholars from across the realm. With three thousand house guests under its roof, regardless of family background, as long as they were of clean origin with virtue and talent, all could be honored as distinguished guests of the manor. Therefore, destitute but learned scholars often came seeking patronage. To demonstrate sincere appreciation for talent and maintain orderly management while preventing opportunists from muddying the waters, Xiao Chen had specially set up several side halls at the manor’s side gate, with dedicated personnel for registration and examination. Those who were truly without learning or skill couldn’t pass even these side halls, let alone enter the manor proper.

Qin Chang Ge had originally intended to become a servant in the manor, but then thought servants might not necessarily have access to Xiao Chen. She’d heard that house guests often received special attention from Xiao Chen, so she changed her plan. As for why Xiao Baozi appeared—because he absolutely refused to let Qin Chang Ge go, insisting on climbing mountains of blades and descending into seas of fire together with his mother. Qin Chang Ge strongly suspected that climbing mountains of blades and descending into seas of fire was false—following mother for fun and excitement was the truth.

The two swaggered into the side hall, hearing from afar a group of people talking and laughing loudly. A shrill voice said, “That Prince Consort of Princess Yincheng is as soft as a powder puff. I saw him once back then and immediately said he had the makings of a fine male prostitute! Look now—wasn’t I right? West Manor Street, Princess Manor, raising a whole nest of rabbits!”

Raucous laughter erupted, with someone chanting in a strange voice, “A secluded stream with fragrant grass moistened, two mounds of jade cattails with smooth jade pillars—the exquisite pleasures within, Brother Dongfang, you’ll never experience in this lifetime.”

Another burst of unrestrained laughter. Qin Chang Ge frowned, thinking these so-called learned scholars not only gossiped about others’ private affairs but spoke so crudely. Xiao Chen pampered them too much—they should really be sent to Xuantian Gate to build walls. If they were worked to exhaustion, they wouldn’t have the energy for such lustful thoughts when well-fed and warm.

But suddenly, amidst the loud laughter, someone said coldly, “Utterly shameless!”

The laughter stopped abruptly, as if cut by a sharp blade, leaving an awkward silence.

Yet in this complete silence, someone asked with pure innocence, crystal clarity, and childish sweetness, “Father, what’s a male prostitute?”

“Oh, a rabbit’s master.”

“A rabbit’s master raising a nest of rabbits?”

“That’s right,” Qin Chang Ge smiled as she bent down to pat her son’s big head, praising his very timely scholarly curiosity. “Let me tell you a philosophy about rabbits—keeping them isn’t as good as watching them, watching them isn’t as good as stealing them, and being able to steal them isn’t as good as not being able to steal them!”

…

This silence could truly be called deathly quiet.

After a long moment, someone came stamping out, saw the two people at the door, froze for a moment, then cursed, “Where did you brats come from? Seeking death? Daring to cause trouble at Prince Zhao’s Manor!”