After paying the entrance fee for the tea party, they entered the courtyard. Inside the room warmed by burning charcoal, seven or eight guests were seated, drinking tea and chatting, their spirits high.
Six colorfully dressed dancing girls wearing thin gauze skirts swayed gracefully, twirling their slender waists and full hips.
Xu Qi An scanned the room but didn’t see the flower of the brothel – the lady who was a proper young miss in public but seductive in private.
Tea parties weren’t just for drinking games; there were also performances like music and dance. The top courtesan didn’t always appear to entertain guests.
Similarly, guests needed some “free space.” While drinking games were fun, they weren’t conducive to private conversations.
Some guests came in groups to drink and socialize. At such times, they needed some freedom to interact on their own.
The three of them took their seats. Song Tingfeng shrugged and smiled with narrowed eyes, “It seems Miss Fuxiang doesn’t plan to entertain guests tonight.”
Xu Qi An asked, “Why do you say that?”
Song Tingfeng explained, “Tea parties have limited time. Usually, a group of guests stays for at most an hour, then either books the next session or leaves. And to fully enjoy drinking games, you need about an hour too.”
“So this batch of guests won’t be playing drinking games, which means Fuxiang won’t appear…” Xu Qi An nodded, indicating he had learned something new.
As one dance ended, the dancers took a short break.
A young man in a light cyan scholar’s robe stood up, raising his cup and looking around, “Is Yang Ling here? Yang Gongzi?”
He asked three times, but no one responded. Disappointed, he sat down.
At a nearby table, a middle-aged man dressed like a wealthy merchant asked curiously, “Brother, who is this Yang Ling?”
“‘Slanting shadows cross the shallow, clear water; A subtle fragrance floats in the air as the moon rises at dusk.'” The young scholar in cyan slightly raised his chin, “Have you heard of it?”
“It sounds familiar,” the wealthy-looking middle-aged man recalled after a moment.
“Of course, when this poem came out, it was hailed by contemporary scholars as the greatest quatrain about plum blossoms in history. Even people like you must have heard of it,” the young scholar proudly raised his head. “Only we scholars can compose such exquisite lines.”
The wealthy-looking middle-aged man asked, puzzled, “Then why is the young master looking for someone here?”
As they conversed, nearby guests stopped their chatter to listen.
“Because this immortal verse was born right here in the Yingmei Pavilion. The poem was gifted by Yang Gongzi to Miss Fuxiang, comparing her to a plum blossom. Their beauty complemented each other – truly a brilliant thought.”
“No wonder Yingmei Pavilion has been so crowded with guests lately. No wonder Miss Fuxiang rarely appears.”
“Indeed, I heard Miss Fuxiang hardly entertains guests anymore.”
“‘Slanting shadows cross the shallow, clear water; A subtle fragrance floats in the air as the moon rises at dusk’… What a beautiful poem. I’d love to meet Miss Fuxiang and that talented scholar.”
Hearing this, the young man in cyan sighed with regret, “That Yang Gongzi only appeared once in the entertainment district, then vanished without a trace. The Imperial College sent people to look for him at the Changle County School, but they found no such person.”
“How strange!” everyone exclaimed in surprise.
The young scholar in cyan said helplessly, “I come to Yingmei Pavilion every day just to wait for him. Not just me, scholars all over the capital want to meet him.”
Song Tingfeng clicked his tongue, “Well, it seems Miss Fuxiang is no longer someone we can aspire to.”
Zhu Guangxiao also sighed.
Did I inadvertently drive up the price? Xu Qi An lowered his head to drink tea, feeling guilty.
Song Tingfeng looked at his new colleague and said, “Too bad you’re good at solving cases but not at writing poetry. If you could write an immortal verse like Yang Ling, Miss Fuxiang would throw herself at you.”
“Throw herself at me?!” Xu Qi An caught the key point.
“Haven’t you heard the romantic stories circulating about courtesans and poor scholars? When a poor scholar occasionally composes a fine verse for a courtesan, her value skyrockets. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. Those young scholars who become famous are pursued and flattered by courtesans.
“Not only do they not have to pay, but the courtesans are even willing to pay them. The Purple Yang Resident of Yunlu Academy was quite talented in poetry back then. After becoming the top scorer in the imperial exams, he lingered in the entertainment district for three months without spending a single coin,” Song Tingfeng explained.
Zhu Guangxiao nodded in agreement.
Song Tingfeng noticed his new colleague staring wide-eyed, as if greatly shocked or hearing incredibly exciting news. His breathing even quickened.
A serving girl who had been attending to guests suddenly left her post, stared at Xu Qi An for a few seconds, then ran out of the room, unable to contain her excitement.
Soon after, the elaborately dressed top courtesan made her entrance, her long skirt trailing behind her, the exquisite ornaments in her black hair complementing her beautiful face.
Her dress was just the right thickness, neither bulky nor revealing, accentuating her mature, shapely figure without appearing overly seductive.
Compared to when Xu Qi An first met her, her attire was noticeably more refined. She looked less like a courtesan from the entertainment district and more like a socialite of some status and renown.
Miss Fuxiang’s enchanting eyes swept over the guests, pausing briefly on Xu Qi An.
“Oh, Fuxiang just looked at me,” Song Tingfeng was slightly shocked.
Zhu Guangxiao glanced at him, straightened his back, and said competitively, “She was looking at me.”
After greeting the guests, Fuxiang said in a soft voice, “This humble one will dance to enhance the mood for our esteemed guests.”
The guests were delighted, not expecting the most popular courtesan in the entertainment district to make an appearance.
More perceptive guests thought deeper: Fuxiang was known for her mastery of both zither and poetry, not dance. Why was she choosing to dance today?
“With that figure, if only she could dance ‘Pure Land of Bliss’ for me…” Xu Qi An appreciated the graceful dance while letting his imagination run wild.
As the dance ended, Fuxiang drank a cup of wine, her cheeks flushed as she took her leave.
Song Tingfeng smiled, “It was worth it.”
Zhu Guangxiao nodded.
Song Tingfeng raised his cup, gesturing to Xu Qi An, “Miss Fuxiang rarely dances. She often plays the zither, but for you, a newcomer to the entertainment district, to see her dance – the money was well spent.”