As one of Yangdu’s premier restaurants, the Hibiscus Tower naturally offered different levels of hospitality for guests of different standing.

The ground floor hall catered mainly to common folk, with dishes that were both affordable and excellent. The second floor offered private booths exclusively for VIP clientele — regardless of nationality, region, or race, so long as one was willing to pay, a seat was guaranteed. The third floor private rooms had even stricter requirements: one needed not only wealth but also status and rank. In other words, the nouveau riche with only money and the poor nobles with only pedigree were both turned away.

From the moment Wa’er entered the private room, his jaw hadn’t closed. The Hibiscus Tower’s servers flowed in like a stream, delivering over twenty plates of jewel-toned, crystalline pastries that looked like works of art. The cloying fragrance left Lin Sui’an’s head spinning. A bright-eyed young attendant stood at the inner chamber door, flashing them a textbook eight-teeth business smile.

“Guests, please enjoy at your leisure.”

Wa’er: “Lin Niangzi, what did you do?”

Lin Sui’an: “Saved someone in passing.”

“Who?”

“Someone called Hua Family Fourth Young Master, I think.”

Wa’er’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t get on his bad side, did you?”

Lin Sui’an: “Who is he?”

Wa’er’s expression turned a little evasive. “The most unconventional member of the Hua clan — itself the most unorthodox clan among the Five Surnames and Seven Lineages — Hua Family’s Fourth Young Master is the number-one dissolute son of Yangdu at only sixteen years of age. The legends surrounding him are simply inexhaustible: lavishing gold on a courtesan, lavishing gold on a bosom friend, lavishing gold on a beauty, lavishing gold on a fine horse, lavishing gold on a precious blade, lavishing gold on —”

“I get it,” Lin Sui’an thought to herself. This person might as well have the words “idle, rich, come quickly” carved into his forehead.

The inner chamber door opened, and a freshly changed Hua Yitang walked out. His round-collared long robe was white as snow — unremarkable at first glance — but as he moved, one noticed that the fabric had a peculiar quality: it shifted into entirely different patterns depending on the angle of the light. Looking more closely, one could see that over the white robe were layered five or six gauze silks, as thin as cicada wings, each embroidered with different floral patterns in white thread. Layered one upon another, they created a magical effect that shifted with light and shadow.

Yet even this outrageously extravagant robe was outshone by Hua Yitang himself. He was still of youthful age, yet his features were already strikingly beautiful. Sunlight fell in hazy halos across his nose bridge, earlobes, wrists, and fingers. His dark pupils were a shade larger than most people’s, and when he raised his long lashes to look over, Lin Sui’an felt a twinge behind her eyes.

This person was like a spotlight that shone at any time and in any place — too dazzling, too blinding.

Wa’er’s eyeballs looked ready to fly out of his head and paste themselves onto Hua Yitang’s face. Any ordinary person being stared at so fixedly would feel some discomfort, but Hua Yitang was clearly not ordinary — his expression was one of contented self-satisfaction as he smiled and looked over. The hand fanning his folding fan came to a stop.

He had been dizzy from the fall earlier and hadn’t gotten a clear look, only hearing that the person who saved him was a young woman. Now, looking properly, he could see that the benefactress appeared to be about his own age — long eyebrows, phoenix eyes, an heroic bearing, a short blade at her hip — clearly a wandering martial hero. But for some reason, the gaze she turned on him held a faint trace of disdain…

Hua Yitang quickly reviewed his own appearance: his body wore the Mist-Veiled Light Frost robe, his feet the Seeking Plum Treading Moon boots — both freshly changed — he had even applied Boundless Fragrance, and his fan was the carefully selected South Garden Spring fan. There was absolutely nothing inappropriate.

Reassured, Hua Yitang unfurled the smile that left countless Yangdu maidens dizzy, and said, “Why isn’t benefactress eating? Is the flavour not to your taste?”

This question only made things worse — the benefactress furrowed her brow even tighter and looked away.

Hua Yitang quickened the fanning of his fan. His personal attendant Mu Xia understood his meaning at once, and immediately had three incense burners filled with Boundless Fragrance brought over. Curling tendrils of fragrance framed Hua Yitang’s flawless features, as though a celestial being had descended to earth.

It worked — the benefactress looked back over, and even seemed to smile slightly.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t hear Lin Sui’an’s thoughts at that moment, or he would have spat up blood.

Lin Sui’an: What is this person doing? Is he planning to smoke himself into a Jinhua ham?

Hua Yitang: “How does benefactress prefer to be addressed?”

Lin Sui’an: “Doesn’t matter.”

“Is benefactress a local of Yangdu?”

“No.”

“What brings benefactress to Yangdu?”

“Wandering.”

“When did benefactress arrive in Yangdu?”

“Irrelevant.”

“What dishes does benefactress enjoy?”

“Anything.”

“……”

Wa’er watched, mouth agape, as Hua Yitang and Lin Sui’an traded questions and answers — watching Lin Sui’an’s expression grow increasingly impatient while Hua Yitang’s smile grew increasingly stiff — and felt more and more like he was sitting on pins and needles.

“Hua Family Fourth Young Master,” Lin Sui’an finally lost patience too, and went straight to the point. “If you wish to thank me, there is no need for all this roundabout talk.”

“Pardon?”

“Just lavish some gold.”

Hua Yitang lost his grip on his fan — it fell. His smile failed to hold — it fell too.

Wa’er: “Cough cough cough cough cough!”

Lin Sui’an picked up a peach-pink pastry and popped it in her mouth. It melted on the tongue — very satisfying. “Can these be packed to take away?”

Hua Yitang: “……Yes.”

Wa’er let out a snort of laughter.

“Fourth Young Master, we pulled them out!” A cluster of pale, well-dressed young men poured in — Hua Yitang’s entourage from earlier. Lin Sui’an had wondered where they had gone; now she understood they had been off fishing someone out of the water.

Shoved in by the group were two men, one dressed in black and one in white — the very pair who had been chasing and attacking Hua Yitang earlier. Both appeared to be slightly past the age of twenty, similar in build; the man in black was soaking wet and shivering, while the man in white had a black eye.

A young man with thick eyebrows and large eyes pointed at the white-robed man and laughed. “Bai Shun, you at least pass for a man of letters — don’t you find it shameful to resort to such underhanded methods?”

Bai Shun was of average looks and spoke with a slight stammer. “Y-you had more people. I couldn’t win in a fight. What’s so remarkable about that?”

The large-eyed young man then glanced at the man in black. “Yan He, are you cold? Shall we light a fire pan for you?”

Yan He spat on the ground. “Hua Yitang, you may dodge the first but not the fifteenth! Yangdu will be ours sooner or later!”

Hua Yitang wore a smile on his face, unhurriedly fanning himself, and said, “Mu Xia, bring the Bai family young master a bowl of tea to settle his breath, and fetch my greatcoat to drape over Second Young Master Yan.”

Mu Xia immediately carried out the instruction.

Hua Yitang’s entourage was far from pleased, and spoke up one after another:

“Fourth Young Master, are you going to let this go peacefully again?”

“They were far too overbearing this time!”

“It was just a matter of a few lines of poetry — and they drew blades!”

“If not for your quick reflexes, Fourth Young Master, the consequences would have been unthinkable.”

“Never mind, never mind,” Hua Yitang smiled with harmless warmth. “Enmity is better resolved than cultivated. Feuding on and on like this is no way to go on. Please have the Bai family young master and Second Young Master Yan rest here for a while, have some tea, and let us have a good talk.”

Yan He looked quite pleased with himself and actually sat down to drink tea, while Bai Shun’s gaze darted about, as though he had been beaten into wariness.

Lin Sui’an watched the spectacle with great relish, snacking and packing pastries at the same time. “Do these two have a grudge with Hua Yitang?”

Wa’er sighed. “Yangdu is prosperous and produces a surplus of dissolute young men. In ordinary days they do nothing useful, preferring to band together and cause trouble. They fall into two factions, broadly speaking. One faction is led by Hua Yitang, consisting mostly of young masters from merchant families. Bai Shun and Yan He belong to the other faction, whose ringleader is named Feng Yuyi — his grandfather once held a senior post in the Censorate, and his uncle is the current Minister of Rites, so his followers are mostly sons of the scholarly gentry.”

Lin Sui’an was somewhat surprised. “Isn’t the Hua Family one of the Five Surnames and Seven Lineages?”

How had a prestigious clan become the representative of merchants?

Wa’er lowered his voice. “That’s exactly why the Hua Family is called the most unconventional of the Five Surnames and Seven Lineages — every single member of the Hua clan is an eccentric who never plays by the rules.” He glanced around furtively. “Lin Niangzi, these two groups of troublemakers have been at each other for years without a clear winner — both are difficult characters. We’d better slip away first.”

Lin Sui’an chewed her pastry, eyes gleaming. “We’ve already come this far. Let’s watch a bit longer.”

Going by what Wa’er had said, she had a feeling the real entertainment was still ahead.

Looking back at Hua Yitang, he was happily chatting with Bai Shun and Yan He, heading toward something like a magnanimous reconciliation. Hua Yitang’s faction of young idlers was quite disgruntled and sat to one side fuming.

Lin Sui’an noticed that the large-eyed young man from earlier had disappeared.

“That person is called Pei Shijun, the seventh son of the Pei Family. Nearly all of the best-run taverns and teahouses in Yangdu are under Pei clan control — including this Hibiscus Tower,” Wa’er said.

So this was Hua Yitang’s turf after all. Lin Sui’an continued watching the spectacle in peace.

After two rounds of tea, Bai Shun had relaxed considerably, and Yan He’s clothes had dried. The two put on an air of departure — and just when the conversation had been meandering, Hua Yitang suddenly produced a sentence: “These past few days I heard two lines of verse making the rounds in the streets. I find them quite intriguing — have either of you heard them?” He rose, fan swaying as he paced. “‘Fragrant learning hides a rotten stench, a belly of filth flows from the hall of literature.'”

The color drained from Yan He’s and Bai Shun’s faces.

Hua Yitang’s eyes curved with a smile. “Judging by your expressions — could it be that you came to cut me down over these two lines of verse?”

Bai Shun: “Hua — Hua Yitang, d-don’t play dumb. It was — was — was you who did it!”

Yan He: “Do you think you can bear the crime of slandering the Feng clan?”

“Oh my — when did I ever say these lines had anything to do with the Feng clan?” Hua Yitang tapped his fan rhythmically. “Oh my, oh my — so you’re saying these verses are about the Feng clan? Oh my, oh my, oh my — so are you saying you already knew the Feng clan had unspeakable skeletons in its closet?”

Bai Shun: “I — I never said that!”

Yan He: “Don’t you babble!”

Hua Yitang’s faction of young men also chimed in, one saying “So much for a cultivated house of learning — turns out they’re no better than swine,” another saying, “Well, what an education — people actually showing up to collect their own scolding,” and yet another summing up, “Here stands the guilty party, confessing before being charged,” and so on.

Lin Sui’an nudged Wa’er. “What is this poem about?”

Wa’er: “The Feng clan is Tang’s most celebrated family of literary tradition. The Feng clan private academy is even acclaimed as the ‘Hall of Literature’ of Tang — there’s a saying that four out of every ten scholars in the realm came out of the ‘Literary Hall.’ But this poem I have never heard before. It must have started circulating within the past half month. Whoever composed it was ruthless — it might as well be pointing directly at the Feng family and cursing them to their face.”

Interesting. I wonder if they have a rule here that forwarding it five hundred times counts as spreading rumours, Lin Sui’an mused.

Yan He was hopping with fury. “Utter nonsense, slander and lies — this poem has nothing to do with the Feng clan!”

Bai Shun: “N-nothing at all!”

“Oh~? Did everyone hear that?” Hua Yitang raised his voice. “They say this poem has nothing to do with the Feng clan.”

The young men in chorus: “We — heard — it — all!”

Pei Shijun emerged from the inner chamber, followed by several young men in white, each carrying a stack of papers covered in dense writing. Hua Yitang casually took one and read aloud: “Today, Bai Family Young Master and Yan Family Second Young Master have stated: the recently circulating doggerel verse ‘Fragrant learning hides a rotten stench, a belly of filth flows from the hall of literature’ bears absolutely no relation to Yangdu’s Feng clan. This is hereby made known to all citizens of Yangdu.” At this point his brows arched slightly. “Seventh Young Master Pei, how many pages did you write?”

Pei Shijun: “Five hundred pages.”

Bai Shun and Yan He went white as sheets. “Hua Yitang, what do you think you’re doing?!”

Hua Yitang let out a sigh. “I have known Brother Feng for many years — naturally I cannot stand by and watch him be slandered. Naturally I must clear his name. Seventh Young Master Pei, scatter all of these.”

“Hua Yitang!”

“S-stop! Stop!”

Bai Shun and Yan He shouted and lunged forward, but it was far too late — Pei Shijun and the young men laughed uproariously as they scattered the declarations from the windows, like flowers chasing the moon, drifting and fluttering across the sky, prompting passersby to pick them up and read, as peals of laughter rang through the Jiuchu River.

“Hua Yitang, you’ve gone too far!” A young man in a cyan robe kicked the door open, followed by another group of fair-skinned young masters — evidently the legendary Feng Yuyi and his company.

Hua Yitang leaned against the window frame, his smile dazzling as sunlight. “Brother Feng, your timing is perfect — I just finished clearing your name.”

Feng Yuyi was so furious his eyebrows bristled. “Beat them —”

Hua Yitang was equally unintimidated, raising his fan and calling out: “Everyone — charge!”

The two factions unleashed a thunderous roar and crashed into each other in a brawl — slapping faces, pulling hair, low kicks, biting ears, spitting — every underhanded method imaginable was deployed. In an instant it was a scene of complete pandemonium.

Wa’er stared wide-eyed. “Lin — Lin Niangzi, what do we do now?”

Lin Sui’an finished packing the last pastry and stood up, taking hold of Qian Jing.

Hua Yitang, left hand yanking Feng Yuyi’s hair and right knee driving into Feng Yuyi’s stomach, frantically waved his right hand fan to call out to Lin Sui’an. “Benefactress — benefactress! Lend a hand!”

Wa’er: “……We’re not helping?”

Lin Sui’an pushed a clean path through the crowd and walked out.

“Hey hey hey, benefactress, see a job through to the end, send the Buddha all the way to the west — damn it, Feng Yuyi, how dare you bite me! I’ll bite you back! Aiyaaaa!”

Hua Yitang’s shouts were left far behind Lin Sui’an.

What did it have to do with her? She liked watching chaos, but she absolutely had no intention of getting swept up in it.

An hour later, Mu Zhong finally arrived fashionably late. The grand brawl on the third floor had long since concluded. Strangely, for all the chaos the group made, the guests on the second and first floors appeared completely unfazed — eating and drinking as usual — and when the combatants had finished fighting and were helping each other limp away while exchanging parting insults, the onlookers actually offered thorough critiques:

“Guess who won today?”

“My bet’s on Hua Family Fourth Young Master — look how gleefully he’s smiling.”

“Feng Family Second Young Master’s face is as black as the bottom of a wok — he definitely lost.”

“You know, these trust-fund brats are truly bored to death — minor scuffle every three days, major brawl every five. They never tire of it, but I’m exhausted just watching.”

“Hua Family Fourth Young Master went a bit too far this time — what was the point of writing that trashy verse? The Feng clan prizes face above all — this will make them want to fight to the death.”

“Was that poem really written by Hua Family Fourth Young Master?”

“Before today, who knows — but after today’s spectacle, the Feng clan will certainly pin it on him regardless.”

These pampered heirs really do have too little homework and too much time, Lin Sui’an thought.

“Lin Niangzi, you really ran into Hua Family Fourth Young Master?” Mu Zhong asked.

Lin Sui’an gave Mu Zhong a slightly puzzled look — he had already asked this same question three times.

“Mu Gong, what exactly are you trying to say?”

Mu Zhong shook his head with a smile. “I simply find it remarkable — the way fate weaves people together.”

Lin Sui’an: “Hm?”

Mu Zhong said nothing more, just smiled with an air of hidden meaning — a smile so meaningful it gave Lin Sui’an goosebumps all down her arms.

After supper, following Mu Zhong’s recommendation, Lin Sui’an chose lodgings at an inn called “Yun Lai” in the Shuxing Quarter on the city’s east side. She had planned to rest briefly and then head out when night fell to explore the famous Yangdu night market, but the moment she closed her eyes, she fell straight asleep. When she woke, she could faintly hear the sound of fists pounding on the door — thud thud thud — her eyelids were heavy as stone, and several attempts to open them failed.

The pounding grew louder and more frantic:

“Open the door in there! Open up! Open up! Open the door! Open the door!”

“If you don’t open the door we’ll take it off its hinges!”

For a split second Lin Sui’an felt a strange disorientation — as though she were still lying in the inner chamber of the Luo residence, the air thick with the sharp stench of blood, and she had only to turn her head to see Luo Shichuan’s corpse.

Lin Sui’an jolted upright, eyes snapping open. Almost simultaneously, the door was rammed open and seven or eight law enforcement officers in black robes with red sashes poured in. Lin Sui’an hadn’t even managed to sit up when a blade was laid across her throat.

“The suspected murderer is apprehended — take her to prison immediately!”

Lin Sui’an: Oh, here we go again?!