“No.” Granny Gao replied. “He was born to Third Young Master’s concubine and is five years old this year.”
A concubine? Four years ago he married his first principal wife, but the concubine already had a son by then? This point was thought-provoking.
Mo Zi then asked, “How many concubines does Third Young Master have?”
“How could there be several? Just one. A personal maid who served Third Young Master since childhood, two years older than him, named Jin Si.” Granny Gao even knew the name.
Why not call her Golden Canary? Mo Zi felt something was off just hearing the name and was extremely repulsed. “Third Young Master dotes on her greatly?”
“Yes, how could he not dote on her? The two principal wives he married were like that, while Jin Si not only served at his side since childhood but also bore him children. If it weren’t for her status being truly incompatible, elevating her to principal wife wouldn’t have led to those scandals.” Being a common person herself, Granny Gao’s words leaned somewhat toward Jin Si.
“Granny, have you ever seen Third Young Master and Jin Si?” Mo Zi pressed her advantage with further questions.
“Just on this trip to Prince Jing’s Mansion, while accompanying the Old Princess Consort and Princess Consort in conversation, Third Young Master brought Jin Si and a pair of children to pay respects. I caught a glimpse. Truly a heaven-made couple, plus two children carved from jade—the envy of others. Unfortunately, Princess Consort dislikes Jin Si’s lowly status. After she paid her respects, she was told to return to her own courtyard, leaving only Third Young Master and the two grandchildren to talk. I saw that Jin Si was very sensible. Though Princess Consort kept a stern face, she didn’t get angry but finished the etiquette with a full smile, advancing and retreating with excellent propriety.” Granny Gao didn’t notice her heart growing more biased as she spoke.
“After all, he’s a legitimate son of a prince’s mansion. Taking concubines is fine, but the principal wife can’t be chosen casually, right?” Mo Zi herself didn’t have such thoughts—she was speaking from the perspective of society’s values as a whole.
“Who says otherwise? But the way Third Young Master looks at Jin Si—those eyes can’t accommodate anyone else. Even this old face of mine blushed watching. I heard Jin Si was taken into his household when Third Young Master was sixteen, and after bearing a son was elevated to concubine. Seven or eight years now, their affection is so tight there’s no room for anything to slip through.” Granny Gao looked at Mo Zi again. “Actually, those rumors I heard and that’s that—what do the truth or falsehood matter to us outsiders? I advise your young lady to consider carefully because I’m truly afraid she’ll suffer grievances after marrying over. Think about it—at home they’re all pearls in their parents’ palms. Who could bear marrying over only to have the husband dote on his concubine more than herself?”
So Granny Gao saw very clearly.
“Granny, your words make sense.” Mo Zi nodded in agreement. Whether divorcing the wives was because the two principal wives were jealous of the concubine and therefore used different methods to resist, or whether the concubine framed them, was probably hard to say. But one thing was certain—Third Young Master trusted the Golden Canary extremely and would stand on her side no matter what.
“Young Master Mo, there’s one more point—I should also advise against the marriage. If your young lady marries that far away, you’ll definitely have to go as part of her dowry. Then it will be hard to meet.” When Granny Gao said this, her eyes smiled into slits.
“It’s not like it’s a formal matchmaking proposal yet. What you’ve told me, I still need to tell Miss so she can consider for herself.” Mo Zi looked at the sky, braced her hands on her legs and stood up. “I’ve disturbed you for quite a while. I should go.”
“Stay for lunch before leaving.” Granny Gao tried to keep her guest.
“No, thank you for telling me all this. Otherwise it would have become a muddled affair.” Mo Zi walked toward the Gao family’s courtyard gate.
“No need to be polite. Because Third Young Master divorced his second wife, the Old Princess Consort is still angry with him to this day. When they meet, she keeps a stern face and doesn’t speak. No matter how Third Young Master coaxes her, it’s useless. I heard Princess Consort say that grandmother will only forgive him once a new daughter-in-law enters the door. It seems they’ve searched all the way to our Luo Zhou.” Granny Gao opened the door for Mo Zi.
Mo Zi saw no one in the alley and joked, “Having divorced all the eligible women in the capital and scared everyone else from daring to marry him, what choice is there but to expand outward?”
Granny Gao cried out “Oh my!”
When Mo Zi reached the alley entrance and looked back at her, she was still leaning against the doorway, waving at her and laughing so hard she bent forward and backward.
Leaving the Gao household, Mo Zi didn’t return to Cinian Hermitage but went to another place instead. The purpose was the same—to investigate Third Young Master Xiao. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe what Granny Gao said, but regarding those two marketplace rumors about the divorces, she wanted to know more. Besides, having already gone out, there was no reason to return so quickly.
Mo Zi walked through the residential district and arrived at Qingqiu Ward, the most prosperous area of the eastern city.
In Qingqiu Ward was Wangqiu Tower, the best grand restaurant in all of Luo Zhou. Wangqiu Tower was famous for three beauties—fine wine, fine cuisine, and fine people. Of course, the fine people attracted wealthy merchants and nobility most. Fundamentally different from ordinary brothels, at Wangqiu Tower you could call for beauties to accompany you even when drinking during the day. They accompanied guests composing poetry, singing songs, playing instruments, and playing chess. They could accompany at the table, pouring wine, conversing, and listening to guests. They could also accompany playing cards, embroidering, and performing impromptu skits. They could accompany male or female guests—you just had to afford the private room’s price. The beauties’ quality far exceeded that of brothel girls. They sold art, not bodies, working on annual contracts with the restaurant. Beauties were divided into four ranks—dancers, singers, musicians, and table companions—each rank with its own price. Table companions were highest because they had to master singing, dancing, and music before being allowed to serve at tables. The restaurant owner took seventy percent commission to cover instructors, costumes, and daily expenses. But tips the beauties received from guests belonged to them—the owner didn’t interfere. When contracts expired, both parties had equal choice.
Wangqiu Tower’s outer hall was just like an ordinary restaurant, at most with more spacious and brighter decor. To enter the inner hall, private rooms, or even eat at the pavilions and waterside gazebos in the garden, the prices were different. A high platform was erected in the garden where newly hired singers, dancers, and musicians had scheduled performances daily—both practicing their skills while hall guests could enjoy them. Killing two birds with one stone.
As soon as Mo Zi entered the outer hall, a server came to ask where she would dine.
“Inner hall.” The outer hall had too many people with loose tongues, and no stage to divert people’s attention.
The server saw Mo Zi wasn’t dressed particularly well but didn’t dare look down on customers. He led her into the inner hall, handed her over to the people inside, then withdrew. The division between inner and outer was strict. The servers inside didn’t look like servers at all—each wore the same blue short robe and white silk pants, with identically embroidered name pouches at their waists, full of spirit.
“Ding Zi, this guest is going to a private room. You attend to other tables—I’ll lead them upstairs.” A man in a blue long robe, around thirty years old, came forward to speak to the server leading Mo Zi.
His pouch was embroidered with the characters Zhao Liang.
“Steward Zhao, yes.” Ding Zi went to add tea for people.
“Please follow me.” Steward Zhao went up the central staircase, then opened the southernmost room door. “Please wait a moment. Someone will come to take your order.”
“Much obliged.” Mo Zi entered and looked at the menu on the table, increasingly exquisite.
Steward Zhao closed the door behind him and left.
Mo Zi opened a window that faced directly onto the high platform, where three very young musicians were plucking out the melody of High Mountains and Flowing Water. Their skill wasn’t deep, their technique could only be called proficient, not exquisite. But the beauty was that the three played as one, not a single note off, as if one body. When the piece ended, continuous calls of approval came from downstairs—it seemed they truly attracted customers.
Suddenly, a light breeze made Mo Zi’s hair tickle her cheek. Turning around, she saw that middle-aged man of short stature who insisted on wearing a bright green brocade robe. She couldn’t help but smile.
“Chief Steward Cen, seeing you in that outfit, why do I feel like even this tiny private room is sprouting green leaves?”