“Who on earth is that…”

“Never seen her before…”

“New here?”

After the Prelude to the Water Melody came to an end, scattered murmurs rippled through the crowd. Had anyone else sung this song, the verdict would likely have been either “unremarkable” or “wildly unorthodox”—yet at this moment, not a single person questioned the style of singing. All anyone could feel was the overwhelming impact carried within that calm, unhurried voice.

Nie Yunzhu had been one of the star performers at the Golden Wind Pavilion three years earlier. Born into an official family and renowned as a gifted young woman in her youth, she had gone on to achieve real mastery in qin and song at the Golden Wind Pavilion. Though her style back then still carried a certain rawness and edge, her skill was already among the very best in Jiangning—had she not deliberately held herself back from competing with others, she might well have had a real shot at being among the Four Great Courtesans, even the top beauty of Jiangning itself.

By comparison, Lü Xia, though the star performer of the Swallow Jade Pavilion today, ranked only somewhere in the top sixteen in the beauty pageant—far below where Nie Yunzhu had stood three years ago. Now, after three years of quiet cultivation and self-refinement, having washed away the powder and paint and shed the burdens and constraints weighing on her heart, Nie Yunzhu had undergone an even greater transformation in her musical and vocal artistry. Such a transformation was rare to find within the pleasure quarters—achieved only because she had since found someone to rely on, something to anchor her heart, allowing her true peace of mind. Compared to that, performing here tonight at the Swallow Jade Pavilion, there was really no contest to speak of at all.

Only up on the second-floor terrace and corridor did Xue Yan, Liu Qingdi and the others, having finished listening to the song, finally blurt out the question: “Who… is that?”

Lü Xia shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. “I’ve never seen her either…” Then she couldn’t help glancing over at Ning Yi, whose brow was faintly furrowed off to one side—the woman had sung Prelude to the Water Melody, which surely had some connection to him, so why did he look like that?

As they spoke, the woman who had finished her song onstage with such composure, having drawn every eye in the hall like a lily or ink-black lotus, had already poured her cup of tea and, holding it in both hands, was walking calmly up the stairs, making her way over. A moment later, the crowd instinctively parted, and everyone—Lü Xia included—watched as the woman walked past them, stopping in front of Ning Yi, bending her knees in a graceful curtsy, and offering the teacup to him with a smile.

Just moments earlier downstairs, Lü Xia had struck a similar pose, offering her cup of wine to Xue Yan. But now, with both women up on the same floor and not far apart, the contrast in presence between the red-robed Lü Xia and the white-robed woman was stark—the woman in white had, by now, become the sole center of attention. In the midst of all that focus, Ning Yi smiled, reached out, took the teacup, drained it in one gulp, and handed it back.

Behind him, Li Pin began to clap, and soon the rest of the Su family joined in, applause rising through the hall.

By this point, no one could fail to understand what was happening—clearly this woman had taken issue with Lü Xia choosing the Xue family and had come out to make a statement in support of Ning Yi; her choice of song alone made that plain enough. Had an ordinary woman come out and done something like this, it might have looked petty and small-minded, but this woman’s single song had utterly overshadowed everyone else present. Even knowing she’d likely been invited by the Su family, the crowd’s first reaction was simple curiosity about who exactly she was.

Up on the second floor, Ning Yi and the woman were, in fact, quietly exchanging words amid all the applause.

…

“You didn’t need to go this far…” Ning Yi said with a smile as he took the teacup, shaking his head. “Yuan Jin’er already filled me in on the situation earlier—it’s really not that big a deal.”

“I know your temperament well enough to know you wouldn’t make much of it.” Yunzhu smiled from behind her veil. “But I couldn’t just let it go.”

The words were simple, yet carried a quiet weight that needed no elaboration. Ning Yi had meant to say something else, but settled instead on: “Either way, thank you.”

“I don’t know much, and what I could offer up was really just this much.”

“You gave me quite a scare.”

“Hm?”

“Not just a few stories tall—more like a dozen or so.”

“Heh…”

The exchange passed quietly back and forth in these brief moments, the applause gradually dying down as the crowd watched Ning Yi and Nie Yunzhu standing there in the corridor, waiting to see what would happen next. Ning Yi glanced around, wondering whether he ought to have Nie Yunzhu take a seat somewhere, when he noticed she too was glancing about, turning faintly red. She lowered her head and murmured quietly, “You ought to give me a reward…”

“Hm?”

“A re…ward.”

Her words grew even softer, almost just lip movements at this point, since everyone nearby was watching. Ning Yi finally caught on, said “Oh,” and began digging for money on himself. “Right, right… I’ve got five hundred taels… my thanks to the young lady for her wonderful performance.”

The combined offering from the Su and Xue families for Lü Xia had only amounted to five hundred taels total, so this single reward was, frankly, staggering. Ning Yi’s manner was convincingly earnest too, delivering his thanks for the performance loudly, making sure those nearby could hear, before adding quietly, “I won’t write you a poem, though.” Best to keep the fallout as contained as possible for now—no need to stir things up any further. But having said this, Nie Yunzhu looked visibly flustered; when Ning Yi held out the promissory note and she didn’t take it, the awkwardness only deepened. Li Pin, off to the side, rolled his eyes, and stifled laughter broke out around them—only then did Ning Yi realize his mistake.

Nie Yunzhu, blushing, stamped her foot lightly, then shot Ning Yi a sideways glance. Ning Yi placed the note onto a small wooden tray held by a nearby Swallow Jade Pavilion girl, his face a study in awkward resignation.

“Well then, I’ll be off.” Yunzhu said with a smile, and amid the surrounding laughter and chatter, lowered her head and slipped out of the circle of onlookers, heading for the stairs. Ning Yi let out a breath—the Su family men would surely no longer feel outdone by the Xue side tonight. Of course, there were still plenty of matters to consider going forward. Nie Yunzhu had stayed out of the public eye for three years; becoming a topic of gossip again because of this certainly wasn’t ideal—but she’d taken the stage for his sake, and whatever her reasoning, if trouble came of it, he’d have to help smooth things over himself.

As Ning Yi mulled this over, Nie Yunzhu had already reached the top of the stairs, still trailed by plenty of lingering gazes and whispered murmurs. But amid all that, another, distinctly different commotion had begun to rise—faint at first, unnoticeable, until someone let out an audible “huh.” Liu Qingdi, who’d still been watching Nie Yunzhu, turned his head now too, eyes going wide, muttering under his breath. Ning Yi turned to look down at the stage as well; Yunzhu, who’d kept her head lowered under everyone’s gaze, turned too, glancing toward the stage—and froze the instant she saw it.

The music had already started up. A woman in a green skirt now stood on the stage, dressed with an elegant simplicity, her figure tall, slender, and supple—clearly a body built for dance. Her waist swayed gently, a flower held lightly in her right hand pressed to her pale lips, her gaze drifting toward some point on the hall’s ceiling, a faint trace of seductive, intoxicated allure in her hazy eyes. As her body slowly turned, her gaze swept briefly across the second floor.

This was merely the opening moment of the dance—the woman’s figure was graceful, her few simple movements already clearly the work of a master. But what truly startled everyone wasn’t those simple movements—it was that, already, someone in the hall had cried out.

“Yuan Jin’er…”

“It’s Yuan Jin’er!”

“She’s actually here…!”

Up on the second floor, Ning Yi’s mouth fell open in shock. “This is getting way too out of hand…” Over in the corridor, Nie Yunzhu too stood dumbstruck, glancing instinctively at Ning Yi, who happened to glance her way at the same moment. Had they not been in a brothel, but rather in the familiar setting of an ordinary morning together, the two of them would probably have ended up sitting side by side on some step, holding their heads in their hands.

Yuan Jin’er’s figure was graceful, her manner typically lively and spirited, but her dance training was genuinely deep, her body supple to an extraordinary degree—at this moment she seemed to be winding up slowly like a spring, and the instant the main melody kicked in, her entire body burst into motion all at once, her skirts blossoming outward like lotus blossoms on water, spinning ceaselessly through the air, her hair whipping wildly, occasionally revealing a fleeting glimpse of striking beauty, her gaze intent and focused throughout the dance.

The dance… had begun…

Ning Yi stepped back and sank into his seat, lightly pressing a hand to his forehead, then, after a moment, finally let out a helpless sigh, craning his neck to watch from where he sat.

Well, as far as the dance itself went, it really was quite something to watch.

Might as well enjoy it while it lasted—whatever came next could be dealt with later…

…

No one knew why Yuan Jin’er had suddenly appeared here, but once her name rang out, the hall filled with either shock or admiration for the dance, and within moments, hardly anyone even remembered what Lü Xia had done earlier. She was supposed to have been the night’s centerpiece, but by now that had become entirely beside the point.

The dance started out lively and quick, Yuan Jin’er unfurling one astonishing move after another as if walking a tightrope; after a while the tempo eased into something gentler, weaving an atmosphere of grace and vitality. Her standing among the Four Great Courtesans hadn’t been mere boasting—she genuinely possessed both talent and mastery in this art. As the dance finally came to a close with a graceful bow, Yuan Jin’er tilted her head slightly and broke into a smile, and the hall erupted into thunderous applause.

“Yuan Jin’er, well done!”

“Miss Jin’er…”

Cries rang out from every direction. Yuan Jin’er stood on stage, smiling as she basked in the applause and attention for a while, then tilted her head, reached up to smooth her hair, pressed her lips into a small smile, and let her gaze sweep across the hall a few times without saying a word. After another glance around, she walked to the side of the stage and leapt lightly down.

The crowd watched, stunned, as she poured herself a cup of wine, then, holding it in both hands, walked upstairs with her head lowered.

It was almost exactly the same route, the same expression, as the woman in white before her. Quite a few people had already turned to look at Ning Yi sitting there; Li Pin glanced from her to Ning Yi and couldn’t help a low chuckle. Aside from a few knowing or startled laughs, the hall had otherwise gone quiet, everyone simply watching Yuan Jin’er’s approach. Ning Yi sat there, his expression twitching through a complicated mix of emotions—Nie Yunzhu had worn white just moments ago, and now Yuan Jin’er wore lake-green; perhaps the legend of the White and Green Snakes had been inspired by exactly this sort of pairing…

As these thoughts ran through his head, Yuan Jin’er’s gaze had already found him before she even arrived. Ning Yi met her eyes. Of course, a look alone couldn’t kill anyone, and soon the entire hall watched as Yuan Jin’er walked up to Ning Yi, bent her knees in a graceful curtsy, and, smiling, offered him the cup of wine.

“Still not enough chaos for you, is it…”

“Hmph, I’m helping provide cover.”

“Making trouble out of nothing…”

“Whatever—hurry up and reward me.”

“This is basically robbery.”

“Better than robbery.”

“Fine, I concede defeat today… but…” Ning Yi let out a breath and began digging through his pockets, eventually pulling out some loose silver. A man and a woman exchanged a look in that charged little space, meaning layered and complicated. “I’ve only got four taels of silver left in total…”

Yuan Jin’er glanced instinctively around at the crowd—people nearby were already closing in, expressions thoroughly complicated…