“Xiaodie, has there been any word today about that Master Long from Huaiyun Ward?”

Afternoon sunlight filtered through the leaves, scattering mottled patches of light across the courtyard. As she went out to empty a washbasin, Xiaodie heard the courtesan Xiuhong, from next door, seeing off a client, call out to ask her. She shook her head. “Still nothing. The authorities say he might be dead… and that Sun Wukong too.”

“Oh come now, you can’t trust what the authorities say—Young Hero Long’s a notorious outlaw, of course they’d curse him like that… Go ask around again when you have a moment. Let me tell you, that Squire Ren and Young Master Luo who came by yesterday, they simply love hearing about Young Hero Long’s exploits, always asking me about him…”

“Oh… I’ll go this morning…”

Xiaodie meant to say she’d already gone to Huaiyun Ward that very morning to ask around, but Xiuhong had already turned and swayed back into her own courtyard. Xiaodie’s spirits sank a little as she lowered her washbasin.

The tale of love and hate between Young Hero Long Aotian and Heroine Yan had originally been nothing more than gossip passed around within the pleasure houses of Golden Bridge Ward—two months ago, when that pair of brothers had first come to set up their stall in Yinqiao Ward, the handsome, striking, and remarkably well-mannered Long Aotian had briefly become quite the talk of the town. Later, when the “Living King of Hell” Yue Yun had come by to cause trouble, everyone in the pleasure houses learned that this Long Aotian was actually a figure from the martial world, possibly even the true lover of the heroine from “The Legend of Yan Jiuniang.” This sent his notoriety soaring, and several of the courtesans had privately discussed, half-jokingly, who might be able to lure him into bed to show off her skills. A few of the most self-regarding top courtesans had even gone to secretly get a look at him, and were soaked through with excitement.

But no matter what, within the pleasure houses, this was of course only inside gossip. A top courtesan could hardly tell a paying client that some other man was so much more remarkable. It wasn’t until the cannon fire at Huaiyun Ward two nights ago, combined with the increasingly complex turmoil gripping Fuzhou over recent days, that this topic finally became something the top girls brought openly before their clients. Over these past two nights, everyone had been telling the story of Long Aotian and Yan Jiuniang, embellishing it vividly, and quite a few people had already come to Xiaodie asking about how things would develop next.

Yes, within the “Long Aotian Fan Club,” the outgoing maid Xiaodie had always been one of the more enthusiastic members, and back at the start, she’d worked hard herself trying to get him into her own young mistress’s bed. And it was she who’d stood guard outside, keeping that wild Sun Wukong from barging in to cause trouble.

Yet according to the court, both men were notorious outlaws, and now, all of a sudden, both had simply vanished.

Xiaodie couldn’t understand it.

Sure, these two men were villains—by the earlier account, even lechers. Those two lechers had come to the neighboring Golden Bridge Ward and plundered whatever they pleased—money, women, whatever they wanted—and no one had gone to report it to the authorities. Why go and provoke the court’s wrath, only to end up killed by cannon fire in the end?

Carrying her washbasin back with a sulky expression, she found in the courtyard her mistress, Fang Ruitao, helping a scholar client put on his outer robe and straighten his collar.

Within the pleasure houses, keeping a client overnight meant the deepest of relationships—the sort that lasted until afternoon, when both would rise, eat lunch, and only then see the client off. Fang Ruitao was not tall, but voluptuous and sweet-faced. The scholar client with whom she shared this closeness was one of Fuzhou’s great households, nearly forty years old, with a long beard and an amiable, cultured face.

He held Fang Ruitao close, caressing her, and when he saw the maid enter, he smiled. “I gather Miss Xiuhong asked you about Long Aotian again?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“The city’s been unsettled these past few days, and it’s only getting worse from today on. Even if you’re out gathering news, don’t go wandering carelessly into the chaotic areas.”

“I see.” Xiaodie said. “This morning, out and about, I heard there were several armed clashes in the city already, and the court’s said to be sending out troops—though who knows what bandits they mean to fight at a time like this…”

“What bandits?” The scholar chuckled. “The court wants to send out troops, but the Ministry of Finance has no money—what’s to be done? Slaughter the wealthy households to appease heaven. The wealthy households, afraid it’s their own necks on the line, start stirring up trouble themselves—where are these bandits supposed to be? More likely as not, it’s all our own people doing it… Even a few of the girls in your own house, who knows, might have powerful figures behind them.”

“Huh?” Fang Ruitao thought about it. “So which side… should we be on?”

“Which side? You’re a nobody—what side would you take? Best to stay out of it entirely.”

“I’ll stand on your side, my lord.” Fang Ruitao reached out and embraced her client, drawing a hearty laugh from him.

The two flirted a while longer, then finally saw the scholar off. When Fang Ruitao returned, she asked, “Went to Huaiyun Ward again?”

“Mm, went to have a look this morning when I bought the newspaper… Mostly because so many of the girls in the house keep asking me about Master Long…”

“Is it really because of Master Long, or is it because of Master Sun?” Fang Ruitao asked, half-smiling.

Xiaodie pouted. “That… that’s for your sake too, Miss.”

“For my sake…” Fang Ruitao gave a helpless laugh. “The way you carry on, you’re making people think I actually had something going on with that Master Long. Truthfully, though, he is handsome, and I wouldn’t mind if he really had slept with me—but you’d best be careful.”

“I… what should I be careful of…”

“I’m coming of age—I’ll need to marry eventually. With a chest as small as yours, you’ll never make top courtesan in this house. Coming along with me isn’t such a bad thing… I know you girls have your little romantic feelings, but if I promise myself to Master Qi and you end up losing your innocence to that Sun Wukong, he might not even want you—and even if he does, he might not treat you well. Do you understand?”

“I… I…” Xiaodie lowered her head. “There’s nothing between me and Sun Wukong…”

“Just stay alert, that’s all. And another thing—Master Qi has connections everywhere. If he says things outside are chaotic, they must really be bad. Best not to go out for the time being if you can help it.”

“Mm-hm.”

Having said all this, Fang Ruitao returned to her room to catch up on sleep, while Xiaodie swept up the courtyard, then crouched under a tree counting ants. It had just turned to mid-afternoon, her usual hour of leisure each day. Sunlight fell through the gaps in the leaves, scattering across the girl’s head, her occasionally upturned face, and the ants crawling to and fro. A great column of ants was carrying the crumbs of bun Xiaodie had tossed down back to their nest. In her more than ten years in this house, this ant colony had become her longest-lasting companion here.

She had no family, no home—sold into this place while still too young to understand what was happening, watching people come and go, and before she knew it, she too had reached the age when she’d be expected to marry off. What would happen after that? The girl had no idea.

In her more than ten years here, she’d seen a great many things—the dazzling life of luxury she’d once imagined, the splendor of the Wu court in its heyday. She lived in Golden Bridge Ward, wandered over to Yinqiao Ward to shop, saw people from every corner of the realm, heard all kinds of gossip—but on the whole, nothing here had ever really belonged to her. Not even herself. According to her mistress, this chapter of her life in the house might be coming to an end soon, and she couldn’t imagine what lay ahead. Watching the ants, she felt afraid.

The ants got to go home every day.

Noise came drifting in from beyond the courtyard.

Turning to look, she saw several of the bouncers who worked as the house’s protection coming in from that direction—the one rumored to be the most skilled among them, “Fifth Master Qiu,” his face already swollen, and the other guards, all with bruised and bloodied faces. Behind them followed three figures, all wearing bamboo hats, though it was still clear that the man leading them was a tall, bald-headed monk.

“Old Qiu, is this the place?”

A middle-aged man walking beside the monk shook out his hand and asked.

Fifth Master Qiu nodded.

“And she is…” the middle-aged man pointed toward the girl crouched under the tree, arms around her knees.

“That’s the one who argues with Sun Wukong all day.”

As he spoke, Fang Ruitao opened her door and came out. “What are you all—” She stopped mid-sentence, seeing the wounds on Fifth Master Qiu’s face, then broke into a warm smile. “These gentlemen are…”

“And this one is…”

“This is Miss Fang Ruitao, that’s the one… you know…” Fifth Master Qiu lowered his voice, saying something to the group that Xiaodie couldn’t quite make out—likely something along the lines of “the one rumored to have slept with Long Aotian…”

“Ah, Ruitao.” The man from the underworld nodded. “Interesting.”

The leading monk had already reached out and shoved the guard in front of him aside, walking forward.

Xiaodie stood up in confusion, clutching her head, turning to try to slip away, but suddenly, a hand like an iron clamp seized her by the throat, lifting her entire body off the ground. Xiaodie felt herself choking, and then she heard her mistress’s scream. Both of them were carried into a room—she was thrown to the floor, while Fang Ruitao was tossed onto the bed.

The tall monk sat down at the round table in the room, looking at Fang Ruitao. “There’s word outside that you’ve slept with Long Aotian?”

“What?” Fang Ruitao lay half-collapsed. “I… I-I-I… I haven’t, really I haven’t, it’s all just wild rumors from around the house.”

“…I imagine so.” The monk looked into her eyes, then laughed. He turned his head, looking down at Xiaodie on the floor. “But you—you’re the one who’s always arguing with Sun Wukong, aren’t you? Isn’t that right?”

“Ah…” Under that gaze, Xiaodie felt as though she’d fallen into an icy pit. After a long moment, she managed, through tears, “…Yes.”

In her years in the pleasure house, she’d seen plenty of ruthless, vicious men, and all manner of bullying and exploitation. Even Fifth Master Qiu, when he was being unreasonable, was quite a figure in the underworld himself—when the tales of Yan Jiuniang and Long Aotian were being told around the house, Fifth Master Qiu had once given an enigmatic cold snort and said, “Just a bunch of young kids…” But of the three who’d come today, just one of the followers had left Fifth Master Qiu and the others’ faces covered in blood. Xiaodie knew nothing of the martial world’s inner workings, but she could sense clearly enough that these were men who could kill her and her mistress both in the blink of an eye, with no one daring to stop them.

The monk stood up from the round table, laughing. His figure was tall and imposing, blocking out the light, and then he gestured toward outside.

“Someone go tell that Pu fellow to pass the word. The girl young Master Sun cares about is here with me. Before the authorities arrive, if he doesn’t show, he can come collect her body instead.”

One of the followers nodded and turned to leave. The other one, who had been doing the beating, held Fifth Master Qiu and the others back. Xiaodie heard him say: “Old Qiu, we’re all men who scrape a living on this road. You surely know who’s come here today. Go out now and tell everyone to stay calm—maybe no one has to die. But if you report this to the authorities, not one of you will live.”

Having said this, he turned and closed the door with a faint, ambiguous smile. Inside the room, the monk walked over, bending down to examine Xiaodie closely, a chill running through her whole body under his gaze. Then he reached out a hand. “You… crawl over into the corner… and crouch there.”

Xiaodie crawled toward that direction, trembling.

Behind her, that figure moved toward the bed. Fang Ruitao screamed once, then was pinned down onto the bed, throat clamped, her clothes torn open with a ripping sound.

Xiaodie crawled to the wall, huddling there like a quail, sensing the shifting light and shadow in the room. The most celebrated courtesan of the house screamed and begged for mercy there, struggling even as her body responded to the bald man atop her. A familiar scent filled the whole space. At some point, Xiaodie lifted her head slightly, and it suddenly occurred to her—she wasn’t really the girl that little Sun fellow cared about, but could it be that annoying Sun Wukong wasn’t dead after all? She wanted to ask, but in the end didn’t dare.

The commotion in the room went on for a good while, and the disturbance rippling through the neighboring courtyards gradually died down. Someone whispered from a distance, someone gossiped, but in the end no one reported it, no one dared come cause trouble. The pleasure house was no place of pure virtue to begin with—every kind of person from every walk of life passed through here, all sorts of information converging in this one place. They knew something had happened, but that didn’t necessarily mean they’d say so.

After Fifth Master Qiu had reassured everyone and made clear no one was to report to the authorities, he returned, somewhat sheepishly, to the courtyard gate, striking up a conversation with the underworld man who’d beaten him earlier. “The one inside now—is he truly the one they say, that… great master?”

“If it were just me, Xiao San, I wouldn’t dare put on such a show today.”

“Hero Xiao’s reputation as the Axe King is known throughout the road—everyone admires him.” Fifth Master Qiu flattered him a bit, then produced a small pouch of silver and gold and offered it. Once the man had taken it, he lowered his voice. “It’s just, brother, I truly don’t understand what’s been happening in the underworld lately… Honestly, Miss Chen’s reputation is formidable, and I’ve had thoughts of joining her cause…”

“Forget it. Miss Chen is extremely strict about who she takes in—not everyone gets through the door.” Xiao San, having taken the money, offered a few pointers. “If you’re not summoned, don’t go charging in like a hothead. But if you run into something like today, do as you’re told, understand?”

“Understood, understood.” Fifth Master Qiu nodded. “Also… those two boys from Yinqiao Ward, what’s their background, exactly? To think that great master would go to such trouble over him today? I heard… at Jiuxian Mountain, he fought you all in a great battle—how could this be…”

“Why couldn’t it be? Yan Qiao, Nie Yongci… died one after another at his hands. And you think it’s easy to kill someone the court needed cannon fire to bring down at Huaiyun Ward?”

“I thought that was just exaggeration spreading through gossip…” Fifth Master Qiu said quietly. “Those two young men, when they had their stall in Yinqiao Ward, I saw them too… At the time, I thought they were just a couple of ordinary pretty boys…”

Late afternoon was drawing toward evening, sunlight in the courtyard turning golden, an evening breeze rustling the leaves. Xiao San had not yet spoken when a cold sensation rose up from behind Fifth Master Qiu.

“White your mother.”

A hand had already seized his ear.

Xiao San’s hand darted into his robe, meaning to draw his twin axes! But before he could, a club came whistling through the air and slammed into the side of his head and face. His vision spun, his ears rang, and blood burst across his face.

…

Xiaodie was still crouched in the corner, watching the ants.

On the floor of the room, one ant was crawling this way and that, unable to find its way home. She thought that today, perhaps, she too was going to die.

It was strange—the terrifying monk in the room had said she was the girl that little Sun fellow cared about, yet she and Sun Wukong had absolutely nothing to do with each other. She was just a lowly maid at the pleasure house, arguing with him every day only to lure Long Aotian into her mistress’s bed—what did that have to do with anything?

With her small, frail body dragged into something like this, she might well be killed by these bandits as a hostage. But thinking it over carefully, she felt this wasn’t entirely frightening after all—if she really turned out to be someone’s cared-for girl, even for a day, wouldn’t that be wonderful? A small trace of self-pity welled up inside her, and she found herself quietly cherishing the feeling, unable to hold back tears.

The light outside the window was drawing closer to evening, the wind stirring the shadows of the trees. Suddenly, faint sounds of commotion came from outside. In the room, the monk, seated at the table, suddenly began to laugh.

She heard his voice ring out: “So you’ve come after all. Why bother with all this? This one wishes to talk with you, and comes with sincerity.”

Xiaodie lifted her head.

A voice sounded from outside.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you took two hostages—so I’ll take two of yours…”

That voice, which had so often argued with her before and which she’d always found noisy and ignorant, now seemed filled with an overwhelming, menacing force. As the words rang out, the door was kicked open, and two tall figures came crashing in—one was Fifth Master Qiu, the other the underworld tough who had beaten him earlier, both their faces covered in blood. That thunderous voice continued.

“…Whatever you did to them, I’ll do the same to your men.”

Huddled like a quail, arms around her knees, Xiaodie blinked, some instinctive sense telling her this wasn’t right—you shouldn’t put it that way. And in the room, the monk’s brow furrowed too, his eyes narrowing to slits.

“Indeed… a hero risen young.”

Sun Wukong’s figure, trailing dust and bloodstains, stepped into the room.

The monk gestured toward the bed, indicating the woman there, disheveled and covered in some strange fluid, then gestured toward Fifth Master Qiu and Xiao San.

“…Then go right ahead.”

“…Hm?”

Sun Wukong’s brow furrowed seriously. He glanced at Fang Ruitao on the bed, then back at Xiaodie in the corner, then at Fang Ruitao again.

The air fell silent for a good while.

Tunyun raised a hand to remind him: “You just said, whatever I did, you’d…”

“You just had sex with her…”

The young man’s gaze was sharp.

…

“Right, so now you should also…”

Tunyun tried to emphasize the point.

…

But in the next instant, the young man hurled the club in his hand, whistling toward him.

Tunyun flicked his sleeve, batting it aside.

…

Before him, the young man drew a flash of blade-light, and in an instant, an unstoppable killing strike came sweeping down upon him…

…

“Hahahaha, bald donkey, prepare to die————”

He was fired up!

Ning Ji, trained as an army medic, knew from his professional expertise that this moment, right now, was Tunyun’s weakest.

A martial grandmaster, at his very weakest moment.

Perfect opening—

…

Inside the room, the air roiled and surged as two great forces collided head-on with a thunderous crash—