Chapter 347: The Pure-Guest Tea Shop

In the pitch-black night, a north wind howled. A modest winter snow drifted down. The Grand Canal was sealed in ice for a thousand li, its entire northern section impassable. Business always languished at this time of year. Yet outside the western wall of the brick city, the Drunken Fragrance Garden blazed with lamplight, lending the surrounding area an air of uncommon vitality.

Linqing, a hub of merchant traffic, was a notorious sink of extravagance. The Jin Ping Mei called it the place of seventy-two towers of pipes and strings, in every style imaginable. Though this spot lay near the northern stretch, the canal's convenience made its culture of luxury indistinguishable from Jiangnan. Among the Great Ming's two hundred forty prefectural cities, it ranked among the most prominent. Beyond the bustling city proper, the outskirts radiated far outward, their streets laid out straight and level.

Outside Linqing's walls, curfew was also in effect, but East Sluice Street was exempt. The entire street blazed with light. Gambling dens, brothels, and entertainment houses all plied their trade. Interspersed among them, a few tea shops and food stalls also kept late hours, waiting for custom.

The Drunken Fragrance Garden was the highest-class brothel outside Linqing, its style akin to those along the Qinhuai. Its main gate was understated and elegantly plain, attended by a few maidservants and servants. From within came no lewd tunes or suggestive words, only the faint, refined strains of string and bamboo music — a mark of considerable taste.

Across from the Drunken Fragrance Garden, several "pure-guest" tea shops still operated. These shops were tiny, each room seating no more than two or three people facing each other. Their proprietors, politely called "pure guests" and less politely called part-time pimps, were usually men of some education. They set up around brothels and pleasure houses, using their tasteful little tea shops to attract self-styled connoisseurs of romance. The pure guest would then keep them company in conversation and games — typically tea tasting, music appreciation, go, backgammon, and the like. Once rapport was established, the pure guest would introduce the customer to nearby brothels. If the customer went, the pure guest got a commission. In idle times, they might also run errands for a brothel's star courtesans, buying things and so forth, earning pocket money for such favors. Hence they were also called "hangers-on." They formed one link in the brothel ecosystem, yet were not formally on the brothel's payroll — more like temporary hires.

Directly facing the main gate, one pure-guest shop hung a ten-foot mottled-bamboo signboard. Though its shopfront was less than ten feet wide, the sign bore three bold, flowing characters: "Bamboo Cloud Leisure." Beside the large characters, a few bamboo joints were sketched in ink wash; above them, distant mountains and clouds. Amid a row of gilded, silvered, tassel-festooned signs, it stood out with striking originality, drawing the eye all the more.

"Just five points."

At that moment, a loud cry rang out from inside Bamboo Cloud Leisure. A clattering sound followed as two dice tumbled into a bowl, clicked twice, and came to rest — a two and a three. The guest with the hooked nose burst out laughing and moved a black piece into the six lines on the right, leaving only two on the left.

"Sir, you are truly a master. Giving me a one-point handicap is simply too generous." The pure guest opposite shook his head repeatedly, his face full of chagrin. Inwardly, he was secretly delighted. Pure guests excelled at these amusements and understood their customers' psychology well. After a bout of elegant posturing, they would often deliberately lose, then lavish flattery, giving the customer full face and elevating him to an exalted position. Only then would they introduce the brothel's girls. The young gentlemen, compelled to uphold that face, would spend freely. The two customers before him were beaming with pleasure — exactly the look of fish about to take the hook.

The younger of the two guests sat near the doorway of the small room. His mind seemed not on the backgammon. The pure guest assumed he was distracted by the brothel across the way and asked him, "Sir, has the Drunken Fragrance Garden across the way caught your eye?"

The one sitting at the door was Qin Rong. After Wang Erya had set that tone, he had been forced to revise the plan, canceling the second cover team. The cover personnel were now all lying low around the brothel, and the primary mission had been changed to assassination, which he would lead personally. The other two teams would separately torch the cigarette factory and the proprietor's residence.

Hearing the pure guest's question, he gave a faint smile. "The Drunken Fragrance Garden's reputation precedes it. So it's here — what a coincidence. I was just taking a few extra glances. But it looks rather ordinary."

The pure guest, paying no mind to the game, casually threw a seven and moved a piece, then said to Qin Rong, "Sir, what you may not know is that the higher-class a place is, the more ordinary its exterior appears. True refinement hiding in the marketplace is the rarest thing. With your and your companion's uncommon distinction, how could a common pleasure house be worthy of you?"

The hooked-nose man cut in: "I think it looks mighty ordinary too. Those maidservants lack a bit of spirit — so the girls inside probably aren't much either."

The pure guest turned back to him. "The six girls inside the Drunken Fragrance Garden — Qinxiang, Anxixiang, and the others — are the finest in Linqing, even lovelier than the girls in the city brothels. They're well-versed in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. That Anxixiang in particular is a master of backgammon. Sir, you could very well have a match with her."

The hooked-nose man raised his head and fixed his eyes on the pure guest. There was an uncommon ferocity in his gaze. The pure guest had seen plenty of men of the jianghu. These two were richly dressed, especially the hooked-nose man, whose movements were crude, whose speech was vulgar, and whose backgammon was a complete mess. He was most likely in league with some bandits from the south. But the pure guest did not dwell on it. Across the way were several street-fighter outfits, all with decent kung fu. He was not afraid of anyone causing trouble. As long as they paid silver, what did it matter if they were river pirates or mountain bandits?

The hooked-nose man gave a lewd grin. "A girl actually called Anxixiang — now that's interesting. Is this Anxixiang here tonight? If she is, I'll go have a look."

The pure guest's face suddenly clouded with difficulty. "Ah, tonight the proprietor of Dongyue is hosting a banquet for the various lords of the prefectural government office. All six girls have been called over. Perhaps, sir, you could find another girl for the night, and seek out Anxixiang in the morning — it would be no delay at all."

"What flavor is there in that?" The hooked-nose man bent his head back over the board. "I like playing backgammon while doing that sort of thing."

Qin Rong, at the door, had gotten the information he needed. He stood up. "No harm in just going over for a look. We'll be spending the night anyway. Finding a girl to keep company is better than sleeping alone. I'll go buy those girls a little greeting gift first."

The pure guest hurriedly said, "Sir, if you wish to buy a greeting gift, it's the fifth shop on the left. They have everything. All the things those girls like best are there. This humble one suggests you purchase osmanthus oil from the Dai Chunlin Fragrance Shop, anxi incense, patterned gauze, flowered pongee, painted pongee…"

Qin Rong was not listening at all. He walked straight out. Amid the swirling white dust, he fished out a cigarette and lit it. His fire striker failed to catch several times in a row. Qin Rong pretended to curse. From the corner of his eye, he saw the distant liaison agent leave, confirming the signal had been received. He made a loop, heading north to that spice shop, bought some anxi incense — a gesture of face.

While waiting for his change, Qin Rong swept his eyes over the shop. It was filled entirely with Dongyue cigarettes. He did not see a single pack of Wendeng Fragrance. On impulse, he bought a pack as well and lit one from the shopkeeper's candle. He took two puffs, then spat with a "pei" — the flavor was far inferior. And it had no filter tip, leaving his mouth full of tobacco shreds.

"What the hell kind of lousy cigarette is this? Don't you have any Wendeng filter-tip fragrance?"

The shopkeeper glanced left and right and said in a low voice, "Sir, if you want filter-tip fragrance, don't speak so loud. If the brokers hear, I won't dare sell it to you either. Around here, we can only buy and sell Dongyue cigarettes."

With that, the shopkeeper, like a thief, pulled out a pack of Wendeng Fragrance. Qin Rong, who was nearly finished anyway, immediately took it and flipped it over to inspect. The pack was rather long. The front bore the three characters "Wendeng Fragrance"; the back showed a voluptuous woman. It was indeed genuine. He handed over five fen of silver. The shopkeeper hastily waved his hand. "Sir, you're still short five fen."

"So expensive? One qian of silver for one pack!??" In Denglai, Qin Rong had never sold cigarettes this expensive. And the ones with the lady print had always sold for five fen a pack.

"Sir, keep your voice down. If those ruffians and scoundrels see, they'll snatch it from us. And the brokers will come levy penalty taxes." The shopkeeper peered around. Seeing no one, he continued, "On this whole street, only my place can still sell a tiny bit. The payoffs are much higher, so naturally it has to be a bit pricier."

Irritated, Qin Rong tossed out another five fen of silver. It seemed that in Linqing, they would indeed have to resort to harsh measures. According to Wang Erya's assessment, the Dongyue Cigarette Factory imitated the outward appearance technically and monopolized the market through the brokers. This year, the value of cigarettes sold out of Linqing was three hundred thousand taels. And their methods were utterly despicable. They had special cigarettes for customers to sample — cigarettes that were actually purchased Wendeng Fragrance, rewrapped in Dongyue paper. Once those customers were duped, they naturally would not return to Linqing to buy stock, and might even quit the cigarette trade altogether, shrinking the market.

Qin Rong took the cigarettes and walked back past several small tea shops, pretending to choke on the smoke, coughing repeatedly. He slowly returned to Bamboo Cloud Leisure. The pure guest was still inside, spinning his tales to the hooked-nose man.

Qin Rong waited at the doorway of the small room, paying close attention to the sounds outside, his eyes fixed on the night sky. Only when the light and shadows there began to shift did he give a cold smirk and nod to the hooked-nose man.

The hooked-nose man was happily absorbed in his backgammon game with the pure guest. Seeing Qin Rong's signal, he suddenly seized the pure guest by the collar, dragged him down, and pinned him against the board. Before the pure guest could cry out, a single punch struck his temple, and his whole body convulsed as he passed out. The hooked-nose man then twisted the pure guest's neck until it snapped, and pulled two Japanese swords from his bundle, handing one to Qin Rong.

Outside, shouts of "Fire!" arose, then gradually spread. The maidservants and servants at the Drunken Fragrance Garden's gate were all pointing south. After a moment, the garden's main gate creaked open. Two men who looked like street fighters rushed out, stood in the middle of the street peering around, then hurriedly ran back inside.

More people filled the street. Many neighbors and shopkeepers, carrying fire hooks and hemp-wrapped poles, rushed toward the cigarette factory — including five or six street fighters from the brothel. This was not out of the goodness of their hearts, but because they knew how easily a fire could spread. Fighting the fire was fighting for their own survival.

A group of people also ran out of the Drunken Fragrance Garden. At their head was a large man with a face full of anxiety, the tallest and most imposing in that crowd, his features highly distinctive. His appearance matched the intelligence provided by the trading company. This was the plan Qin Rong had revised: use the fire to draw out the proprietor, then cut him down right at the brothel gate.

This proprietor of the Dongyue Cigarette Factory was frantic to the point of tears. The fire had started near the warehouse, where the tobacco leaves alone were worth tens of thousands of taels of silver. Punching and kicking, he drove several household guards to go fight the fire. In a flash, only the proprietor and a few officials remained.

Qin Rong concealed his Japanese sword in his sleeve and shouted, "Fire! Everyone, go help!"

From the surrounding tea shops, seven or eight team members who had been lying low emerged simultaneously. Several carried eight-foot hemp-wrapped poles — the basic Ming-dynasty firefighting tool, its head made of hemp, soaked in thick mud to resist burning.

Qin Rong drew closer. The Dongyue proprietor was loudly directing the arriving people. That flock of officials and gentry were like lambs to the slaughter, yet they remained utterly oblivious, ceaselessly calling on those approaching to go fight the fire.

"Strike!" Qin Rong roared.

Using the crowd as cover, the five or six team members who had closed to within a few steps simultaneously tore the hemp cloth from the heads of their poles. Right at the gate of the Drunken Fragrance Garden, they launched a ferocious thrusting assault with their eight-foot spears against the cluster of gentry and officials before them. The remaining few surrounded the Dongyue boss and attacked with short blades. The officials and gentry, unaccustomed to physical exertion, could not even flee in time. All were stabbed and toppled to the ground, which ran slick with blood. The common folk who witnessed it screamed and fled in panic. In an instant, even the firefighting efforts ceased.

The action team members killed with ruthless efficiency. Their orders were to eliminate the enemy in the shortest possible time, for their window would never be ample. Qin Rong severed the Dongyue proprietor's head with one stroke. Another masked company operative pointed out the assistant prefect. Qin Rong beheaded him as well. The other team members used this brief interval to continuously stab down at the figures on the ground. Those not yet dead screamed in agony. This scene terrified the firefighters into stopping. They all watched from a great distance. Fighting a fire was one thing, but what they were witnessing was murder and plunder. No one dared step forward to help.

Once the heads were secured, Qin Rong shouted, "Everyone, withdraw!"

The team members with spears dropped them simultaneously and followed Qin Rong as he slipped into an alley, quickly vanishing into the darkness. The sky was a mass of black clouds pressing down on the city. The snowflakes had turned into a heavy fall of goose-feather snow. (To be continued.)

PS: Begging for monthly tickets.