Yan Qi had no patience for Yan Qin and instead asked her which dance hall Zhang Qingjun frequented. Yan Qin said it was the Golden Sun.

The attendant nearby whispered to Yan Qi, “The Golden Sun is a notorious den of extravagance. The prices there are exorbitant — it’s not a place ordinary people can afford.”

Yan Qi gave a cold laugh. Never mind ordinary people — even those with considerable spending power would not dare to casually visit the Golden Sun, where a single outing could easily drain an entire family’s fortune.

The group set out under the cover of nightfall and quickly arrived at the Golden Sun dance hall.

The Huaxi Quarter was lined with dance halls. Every evening when darkness fell, the district blazed with red lanterns and swaying willows, a scene of bustling splendor.

The dance halls here were categorized by class. Low-end establishments had worn-out equipment, less attractive dancers, and cheap drinks, but they suited those of modest means. Mid-range halls offered reasonable prices without the stigma of poverty, making them the preferred choice for most people. As for the high-end dance halls, there were only two or three of them in total, catering exclusively to wealthy magnates and members of the nobility. The Golden Sun was one such establishment, and its reputation spread far and wide throughout the district.

Yan Qi did not frequent dance halls. On the rare occasions he had visited, it was to accompany clients — but this did not prevent the sharp-eyed attendants from recognizing him as the eldest young master of the Yan Family. The Yan Family was not only among the wealthiest in the region, but their daughter now held the prestigious title of Young Marshal’s wife, and might one day become the Marshal’s wife. With both wealth and power behind them, the Yan Family’s every move naturally attracted a great deal of attention.

“Young Master Yan.” The manager came out personally to greet him. “What an honor to have Young Master Yan grace us with his presence. Please forgive our tardiness in welcoming you. This way, please.”

Yan Qi had no desire to spend the evening here — he simply wanted to find Zhang Qingjun as quickly as possible. But every trade had its own rules, and there was no reason for the establishment to comply with his every demand since he wasn’t a police officer.

So Yan Qi had the manager arrange a luxurious private room and ordered drinks.

From this open room on the second floor, one had a perfect view of the main stage on the first floor — an ideal vantage point.

On the stage below, several dancers in vivid costumes swayed to the music. The jarring sounds and boisterous atmosphere had a curious effect, causing the nerves that had been wound tight to ease into unusual relaxation.

Many people liked to come to such places for amusement — and it wasn’t without reason. Wine and music did indeed have the power to make one forget one’s troubles.

But Yan Qi had no fondness for such things, and naturally had little interest.

When the manager came over personally to pour drinks, Yan Qi asked, “Manager, I’d like to inquire about someone. There’s a man named Zhang Qingjun — is he a regular here?”

At the mention of Zhang Qingjun, the manager paused, then quickly smiled. “Young Master, we have our own rules in this business. A guest’s information cannot be casually disclosed to outsiders…”

The attendant at his side slipped a banknote into the breast pocket of the manager’s jacket. The manager’s unfinished words immediately shifted course: “Actually, it’s not much of a secret. Mr. Zhang Qingjun doesn’t try to keep it private himself — many people know.”

Yan Qin, having heard this, hurriedly said, “Big Brother, Qingjun’s talents must be admired by many. These people who know him surely appreciate his literary gifts.”

The manager’s eyes flickered, shifting between Yan Qin’s face and Yan Qi’s.

Yan Qi ignored Yan Qin and said directly, “She’s right. I have long admired Mr. Zhang Qingjun and have been looking for the opportunity to meet him. If he happens to be here tonight, could I trouble you to introduce us?”

“Well…” The manager hesitated. “Mr. Zhang Qingjun may not be available at the moment.”

The attendant slipped another banknote into the manager’s pocket. The manager set down the wine bottle, and every trace of reluctance vanished from his face. “Mr. Zhang Qingjun is in a private room on the third floor. Young Master, please follow me.”

“Very well.” Yan Qi had no interest in drinking. He rose and followed the manager up to the third floor. Yan Qin followed right behind the group, her expression defiant. She had already convinced herself in her heart that this was all a misunderstanding on Yan Qi’s part — she was determined to let Yan Qi see with his own eyes how Zhang Qingjun truly lived up to his name: a man of extraordinary talent.

When they reached the third floor, the manager stopped in front of a private room and knocked politely on the door.

Shortly, someone came to open it — a woman with heavy, elaborate makeup, dressed in revealing clothes. When she saw the manager standing outside, she quickly stepped to one side.

Before the manager could say a word, Yan Qi had already strode inside. Spread across the large bed was a man who was nearly naked, surrounded by three or four women who were equally barely clothed.

The man, unaware that anyone had entered, was reclining against the headboard with his mouth open, eating a piece of tangerine that one of the women was feeding him.

Yan Qi did not know what Zhang Qingjun looked like. He reached out, pulled Yan Qin over, and pointed at the half-naked man on the bed. “Look carefully — is that your Zhang Qingjun?”

Yan Qin was stunned speechless, for she had recognized Zhang Qingjun the moment she walked in.

This nearly undressed man was entangled with several women, and the way he looked at them was filled with undisguised desire.

This was the man who had told her every day that he only went to dance halls to listen to music and appreciate beautiful dancing. This was the man who had repeatedly declared that she was the purest woman in the world — and that other women held no interest for him, that he lacked even the desire to glance at them, let alone touch them. And yet here he was, with women on both arms, indulging in near-shameless debauchery.

“This isn’t real.” Yan Qin cried out in a sharp, pallid voice. “That’s not Zhang Qingjun — he would never be like this. He said he only had me.”

Yan Qin’s shriek finally drew Zhang Qingjun’s attention. He squinted over in their direction, and the expression of lazy contentment on his face was instantly struck as if by lightning.

“A-Qin.” Zhang Qingjun scrambled off the bed without a second thought, but after two steps he realized he was nearly naked. He hastily snatched up a bedsheet and wrapped it around himself.

“A-Qin, listen to me — it’s not what you think.” Zhang Qingjun explained frantically. “I was only looking for inspiration.”

“You said you came here to listen to songs and watch dancing to find inspiration — not to be with these women…” Yan Qin raged, tears flying from her eyes. “You lied to me. You actually lied to me.”

“No, no — the article I’m writing now requires some insight into the collision between the soul and the flesh. I wasn’t here for pleasure. I was genuinely searching for inspiration in all of this.”

“Am I not a woman?” Yan Qin pointed at the beautiful dancers behind him and shouted, “Why look for it with them? You could have come to me!”

“No, that’s not— Ah!” Before Zhang Qingjun could finish his words, a slap landed on his face.

The stinging pain made Zhang Qingjun glare furiously at the person who had struck him. “Who are you? Why did you hit me?”

Yan Qi said coldly, “Using the pretense of seeking inspiration to swindle and cheat, manipulating an ignorant young woman — your behavior is more than enough to land you in the public security office. Attendants, escort him to the public security office for me.”

“Who are you? What right do you have to take me away?” Zhang Qingjun struggled, but Yan Qi’s men had already firmly restrained him.

“You want to know who I am? I am Yan Qin’s elder brother.” Yan Qi said furiously. “You actually dared to deceive my younger sister — cheating her of her money and her affections. You’ve got some nerve.”

Zhang Qingjun blinked. Wasn’t the man before him the head of the Yan Family? If he could get on his good side, wouldn’t the Yan Family’s vast wealth come flowing into his pockets?

But before he had even finished turning the thought over in his mind, Yan Qi had already seen through him. Without needing any order from Yan Qi, the attendants had already surrounded him and begun to beat him with their fists and feet.

“Big Brother, stop hitting him.” Yan Qin, hearing Zhang Qingjun’s cries of pain, couldn’t help but plead with a pained heart. “You’ll beat him to death.”

“This scoundrel deceived you, and I haven’t even begun to vent my rage.” Yan Qi yanked Yan Qin back as she tried to step forward. “Are you out of your mind? You saw with your own eyes what kind of person he is, and you’re still protecting him? All that talk about ‘finding inspiration’ — he was using your money to live it up. The money you gave him, the money meant to help him fulfill his dreams, ended up in the pockets of these women. Yan Qin, it’s time you woke up.”

Hearing Yan Qi’s words, Yan Qin let out a wail of despair and crumpled to the floor, sobbing in great heaving cries.

Although love had blinded her, she was not a fool. Now that Zhang Qingjun had been exposed right before her eyes, she finally understood that she had been used all along.

She had spent her private savings, emptied the shops that Old Master Yan had given her as dowry, pouring every last bit of her wealth into him — only to discover in the end that she had been thoroughly deceived. Zhang Qingjun had taken everything — both her money and her affections — while Yan Qin was left with nothing but a ruined reputation.

“So you were the fool he was milking.” One of the women remarked with undisguised mockery. “Zhang Qingjun has always been so generous with us. Whatever we asked for, he bought without hesitation.”

The woman shook her wrist, where a gold bracelet glittered brilliantly.

“We thought he was some big shot — until one night when the drink loosened his tongue, and we found out the truth. Turns out he’s just a kept man, living off a woman.”

“That’s right,” another woman chimed in. “He sweet-talked you to your face, but behind your back he used to say you were an idiot — that you were all brawn and no brains, stupid and clumsy, yet devoted to him like a loyal dog.”

Yan Qin had already collapsed onto the floor, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on Zhang Qingjun, who was still taking blows.

“I always said it would only be a matter of time before someone saw through him, and he’d get a good beating for it. See? My mouth is practically prophetic.”

The women finished speaking and covered their mouths, laughing.

Their laughter fell upon Yan Qin like acid burning into her skin. She couldn’t hold back — she lunged at one of the women. “Shut your filthy mouths.”

As the women erupted into a brawl, Yan Qi felt a buzzing in his head. He shouted furiously, “What are you all standing around for? Get over here and pull these madwomen apart!”

The attendants abandoned Zhang Qingjun and rushed over in a frenzy to break up the fight — but women who fight seem to go even more frantic.

Yan Qin’s hair was grabbed and yanked, leaving several strands on the floor. Her face was bruised in some places and flushed red in others — she looked utterly wretched.

The attendants finally managed to pull everyone apart with great difficulty. By then, Yan Qin’s nose was swollen and her face was black and blue, her clothes in disarray.

She was, after all, a pampered young lady of a noble family — she had no idea how to fight. Against these women, she could only take the blows passively.

It was some time before the chaos was finally brought under control. The commotion had drawn a crowd of onlookers from inside the dance hall, and the sounds of whispering and pointing fingers were unceasing.