Chapter 423: The Flower Lady Chants with the Golden Fan

Jin Ling, Xinglong Fang, Jia Family Old Residence, Jia Cong Courtyard

Afternoon, the scorching sun blazed fiercely, its rays filtering through the dense foliage of the parasol trees in the garden, casting flickering specks of light upon the desk.

Dou Qi Guan was sound asleep on the sleeping couch in the study, while Ling Qi Guan sat at the desk, practicing calligraphy using the character samples left by Jia Cong.

Ling Qi Guan's jet-black, silken hair gleamed in the sunlight; on her pale, tender earlobes hung a pair of gold filigree earrings set with eastern pearls.

As her slender wrist moved the brush, the pearls on the earrings swayed gently, shimmering with a soft, milky luminescence.

A sunbeam flickering through the window seemed to disturb her vision; she set down her brush, rose, and stepped to the windowsill, rising on her toes to lower the bamboo sunshade.

Her supple, slender frame, now showing faint curves, resembled a bud just beginning to bloom on a young shoot—exquisitely graceful and enchanting.

She returned to the desk, picked up the brush again, wrote a few more strokes, then set it down with a sigh of listlessness.

Sitting before the desk, she propped her chin on her hands, staring blankly, bored.

Jia Cong had not returned to the estate these past few days; Ling Qi Guan had memorized every character he taught her, and even the book he bought her for amusement—The Romance of the Western Chamber—she had reread many times over.

It truly seemed there was nothing new left to do.

Since returning from the Zhen family's birthday celebration, Jia Cong had not come back; Ling Qi Guan missed him deeply.

Two days ago, Jiang Liu returned with word that the Third Master was occupied with urgent matters outside and would return only after finishing them.

Though she had Jia Cong's assurance, as day after day passed without his return, Ling Qi Guan grew increasingly anxious.

Since leaving Su Zhou with Jia Cong, she had grown accustomed to his presence.

She imagined that once they returned to Shen Jing, she would have to perform in the entertainment quarters with her opera troupe sisters.

She would no longer be able to stay by his side daily, reading, writing, and singing—how unbearable that would be.

Unlike Ling Qi Guan's longing, Dou Qi Guan showed no concern over Jia Cong's prolonged absence; she ate when hungry, slept when tired, practiced her opera as usual, and lived her days as happily and simply as ever.

Ling Qi Guan glanced at Dou Qi Guan, curled up in a ball, snoring soundly on the couch, and wrinkled her nose in envy.

Suddenly, she sensed light footsteps behind her, and a tall shadow.

She was quick-witted; Jia Cong's courtyard lay beyond the second gate, and besides herself and Dou Qi Guan, only two maids had been assigned by the Jia household—no one else would be wandering here.

Her heart leapt with joy; she turned around swiftly and called out: "Third Master, you're back! You've been gone so long, I didn't see a trace of you."

Seeing Ling Qi Guan's radiant face and bright smile, still as lovely as ever after days apart, Jia Cong blurted out: "Missed me, didn't you?"

He often joked like this with his personal maids like Zhi Shao; having not seen Ling Qi Guan for days, the words slipped out naturally.

Only after speaking did he realize it sounded odd—after all, Ling Qi Guan was different from Zhi Shao, Wu Er, and the others; it felt abrupt.

Yet he hadn't expected her to be so young, still half-understanding; she didn't mind at all, and pouted slightly: "You know I missed you, yet you didn't come back sooner."

Jia Cong paused, surprised by her frankness; her directness was rare, and reminded him faintly of Dai Yu's nature.

"I'm back now, and I brought you something."

Jia Cong unwrapped the bundle in his hands: inside was a blue book case; opening the ivory label, he revealed five neatly stacked blue-covered volumes.

The cover bore the title: The Romance of the Western Chamber, the same work later known as Wang Master's Western Chamber.

Ling Qi Guan had studied reading and writing with Jia Cong for some time; though she still struggled with some obscure characters, she recognized the characters on the cover.

Seeing the five brand-new volumes of The Western Chamber, her eyes sparkled with delight and admiration.

Jia Cong smiled: "You once said your master couldn't read; she taught you opera scripts by memory, passed down from her own teacher. You said that once you learned to read, you'd read the scripts yourself."

"So I bought you this set of Western Chamber plays—many of the songs you've sung before are right here."

Ling Qi Guan eagerly took the books and began flipping through them, then suddenly paused and asked: "Third Master, have you finished your business outside? Will you stay at the estate tonight?"

Jia Cong replied: "The matter isn't settled yet. I came back just to see you and Dou Qi Guan—I'll leave again soon."

Ling Qi Guan's face fell; she frowned: "You're leaving again? How many days will you be gone? I've learned all the characters you taught me—I was waiting for you to teach me new ones."

Jia Cong smiled: "Reading and writing can wait. But this time, I'm taking you with me."

Ling Qi Guan's face lit up; she beamed: "Where are you taking me, Third Master?"

To care for Zou Min'er, Jia Cong had stayed at the old residence on Mingze Alley for five days.

He still held his post at the Ministry of Works' Firearm Division; his prolonged absence could be excused as handling Zou Min'er's funeral affairs.

But if he remained absent too long, people would grow suspicious—he needed to show his face.

Moreover, Zou Min'er's condition had stabilized; she no longer required his constant vigilance. Yet he couldn't remain at Mingze Alley at all times—she needed someone to accompany her.

But Zou Min'er was feigning death to escape; this matter involved the Jin Ling Zhongche Office, and Jia Cong dared not hire a stranger to care for her, lest word leak out.

So he decided to bring Ling Qi Guan to tend to Zou Min'er—it was the safest, most reliable option.

…

Su Zhou, Tie Ling Pass Wharf

Afternoon, the sun blazed like fire.

Every morning, many cargo ships docked, making that the busiest time for unloading.

Local laborers, who earned their living by brute strength, would rush to claim work then; if they labored hard just one morning, they'd have enough to eat for the day.

By midday, when the morning's unloading was done, the wharf entered its quietest period.

Exhausted laborers, in groups of three or five, sought shade under the wharf's coverings—drinking tea, gambling, or sleeping soundly to recover from their morning toil.

On the eastern side of the wharf stood a giant banyan tree, its shade the coolest spot on the entire dock.

Yet the laborers avoided this best spot, preferring less shaded places rather than risk bad luck beneath the tree.

A few days ago, a group of outsiders arrived—strong, muscular men who immediately seized much of the work.

Some local veterans resented this, confronted them to intimidate them into leaving.

But these outsiders weren't just strong—they were skilled in brawling and fighting.

In moments, they beat the challengers soundly; since then, no one dared provoke them.

On the wharf, laborers sold only their strength; they naturally respected brute force—if someone was stronger, you bowed to them. It was the unwritten rule of the trade.

Beneath the banyan tree sat six men, completely occupying the shade.

Four of them were burly men, clearly powerful and tough.

The fifth was a lean man, but his spirit was sharp, his eyes bright and alert.

The sixth man among them looked different—he was neither muscular nor lean and vigorous.

Compared to the others, he was much older—over thirty—wearing a gray short tunic, thin, with ordinary features.

In short, he looked nothing like a man suited for dock labor.

Yet in truth, he was the head of this group of outsiders, handling their contracts with ship owners, settling payments, and tallying earnings.

…

The lean man walked over and sat beside the middle-aged man: "Brother Zhang Wu, why did you send Yu Yu Xiuzhu out early this morning? He was acting so secretive—I asked him, but he wouldn't say."

The man called Brother Zhang Wu smiled faintly: "I sent him to visit a flower house."

The lean man was startled; his mouth dropped open: "You sent him to a brothel? Brother Zhang Wu, what's this about?

Third Master ordered us to come to Su Zhou to track down that man, yet you make us haul cargo and send Yu Xiuzhu to brothels…"

Brother Zhang Wu smiled: The Lord Weiyuan Marquis had pulled fifty men from somewhere, assigning four officers from the Jin Ling Zhongche Office to lead them, scattering them across the riverine prefectures to gather intelligence.

Su Zhou, being a major southern city, a hub of merchants and commerce, with thriving land and water routes, was one of the few places in the south where people and wealth converged.

Moreover, Su Zhou and Songjiang were the two primary seaports along the river; if Zhou Zhou Zhengyang fled by sea, he'd almost certainly pass through one of these two.

So half the fifty men were dispatched to these two locations; Zhang Wu alone brought twelve to Su Zhou.

Though Zhang Wu had been instructed not to inquire into their origins, through their interactions, he'd guessed their identities.

When they spoke of the Lord Weiyuan Marquis in private, they respectfully called him "General" or "Marquis"—they were clearly his military subordinates and comrades.

Their bearing, their military air, confirmed Zhang Wu's suspicions.

Yet among them, only Jiang Xiao Liu occasionally slipped and called the Lord Weiyuan Marquis "Third Master."

Zhang Wu was a veteran of the Jin Ling Zhongche Office, a seasoned undercover agent who knew well the prominent figures of Shen Jing and Jin Ling.

He knew Jia Cong's background intimately—he was from the Lady Rongguo Mansion in Shen Jing, and now, as acting head of the Zhongche Office, he was Zhang Wu's direct superior.

He knew Jia Cong was a native of Shen Jing, and so was Jiang Xiao Liu.

The familiarity in Jiang Xiao Liu's tone when speaking of Jia Cong suggested he'd once been Jia Cong's trusted subordinate in Liaodong—and likely knew him from before, back in Shen Jing.

…

Zhang Wu smiled: "Brother Jiang, you don't understand—I sent Yu Xiuzhu to the flower house not to enjoy himself, but to gather intelligence."

Jiang Xiao Liu was intrigued; he chuckled softly: "If you've got such a sweet assignment, why not let us do it? Yu Xiuzhu looks so bookish—he's useless for this."

Zhang Wu laughed: "That's exactly why I chose him—his bookish air suits the place.

You fellows all radiate strength and military bearing; if you went to places like that, you'd stand out too much—you'd give yourselves away.

You're best kept at the docks, where your strength blends in.

Others aren't as conspicuous, so I've assigned them to probe the markets."

Jiang Xiao Liu chuckled low: "Brother Zhang Wu, you've got so many layers—even gathering intel and visiting brothels have their rules.

But how will Yu Xiuzhu find Zhou Zhou Zhengyang in brothels?"

Zhang Wu said: "We have Zhou Zhou Zhengyang's confidential dossier—he's a lecher. Though he has a wife and concubines, he still frequents brothels and courtesans.

Even when hiding or fleeing, a man like him won't resist the urge to visit flower houses—it's a weakness common to lustful men.

Besides, brothels are crowded and chaotic—perfect places to hide."

Jiang Xiao Liu looked puzzled: "Brother Zhang Wu, how many brothels are there in Su Zhou? You want Yu Xiuzhu to check them all—he'll die of exhaustion."

Zhang Wu smiled: "Zhou Zhou Zhengyang was a third-rank military officer in Jin Ling—high-ranking and prominent. He'd never go to secret, back-alley dens—he'd go only to the most luxurious brothels in town.

In Su Zhou, there are only three or four such places—I told him exactly where. He'll need only half a day."

Jiang Xiao Liu muttered: "Three or four isn't few… Yu Xiuzhu's got little arms and legs—can he even handle it?"

…

As the two were speaking, a young man walked over from the dock, wearing a pale moon-colored silk long robe, a square cap on his head, and a folded fan tucked diagonally into the back of his collar; his gait swayed lazily, exuding an air of rakish charm.

Zhang Wu spotted the man and whispered with a smile: "Xiu Zhu is wasting his talent as just a common soldier—he'd suit our line of work better."

The young man reached under the big banyan tree and shouted: "You Zhang! How much of my cargo's still left unloading? I'm warning you upfront—if it's not all off by sunset—"

"You won't get a single silver coin!"

The young man's brazen words drew the attention of local laborers resting nearby; they even saw Boss Zhang bowing and scraping, inviting the young man to sit and rest with tea.

So these men guessed the villagers must have overreached, snatched too much business, and failed to unload in time—now the shipowner was going to stiff them on payment.

Such things were common at the dock; the local laborers paid no mind, mostly casting amused, malicious glances—no one paid attention to this side.

The young man sat down, glanced around briefly, then lowered his voice: "Brother Zhang Wu, I went to the brothels you mentioned this morning. The first few yielded nothing useful."

Then I went to Panxiang Lou in the north city. Following your method, I called for the top singing girl—her name was Hua Niang, famed in Su Zhou's brothels for her golden voice."

After listening to her sing a little tune, I chatted with her—and I actually got something useful."

Jiang Xiao Liu, beside him, looked baffled and asked: "Brother Zhang Wu, why did you tell Xiu Zhu to pick singing girls in the brothels? What's the trick?"

Zhang Wu smiled: "Zhou Zhou Zhengyang isn't just lustful—he has a peculiar habit: every time he visits a brothel, he picks the top singing girl."

And before anything else, he always makes her sing a brothel tune first."

Jiang Xiao Liu's face twisted in disgust: "This dog of an official really has strange tastes."

Zhang Wu continued: "We didn't know this secret until the Sun Dali Temple failed to capture Zhou Zhou Zhengyang—his wife and son had already fled."

But they caught his concubine and illegitimate daughter. The Sun Dali Temple's chief, Yang Yang Hongbin, was an expert interrogator—his methods were brilliant."

He uncovered that Zhou Zhou Zhengyang's concubine had been the top courtesan of Jinling's Deng Hongchun Brothel ten years ago. In her youth, she was not only stunningly beautiful but born with a golden voice."

She specialized in singing brothel love songs, which delighted Zhou Zhou Zhengyang so much that he paid a fortune to free her and took her as his concubine."

But after she bore him a daughter, she grew older and lost her beauty—yet Zhou Zhou Zhengyang's habit stuck. Every time he visits a brothel, he follows the same ritual."

Jiang Xiao Liu, hearing this bizarre tale, wore the same strange expression again. After struggling to speak, he blurted out: "This dog of an official really has strange tastes!"

Wang Xiu Zhu, listening to this odd story, chuckled softly.

He went on: "Hua Niang said that not long ago, a customer came just like me—he called for a top singing girl, and she served him."

He especially loved a tune called… what was it… ah, yes—'Scattered Gold Fan.'"

Because Hua Niang had a naturally golden voice, she sang 'Scattered Gold Fan' so well that he visited her several times."

But he hasn't come in the last seven or eight days. And every time he came, he brought attendants—he clearly wasn't an ordinary man."

I gave Hua Niang five taels for rouge and asked her to describe the man. Based on her description, he looked just like the portrait of Zhou Zhou Zhengyang."

But I didn't dare show her the portrait for fear she'd grow suspicious."

Zhang Wu's eyes flashed with sudden intensity; his expression stirred slightly. "This is Zhou Zhou Zhengyang's unique habit—very few others have such a quirk."

This man must be Zhou Zhou Zhengyang. At the very least, it proves he was in Su Zhou seven or eight days ago—perhaps he's still here!"

Jiang Xiao Liu asked: "If he's a lustful man and visited her multiple times, why hasn't he come in the last seven or eight days?"

Wang Xiu Zhu said: "Seven days ago, the Sun Dali Temple issued a new portrait of Zhou Zhou Zhengyang, replacing the old one from the Ministry of War. The new likeness is said to be extremely accurate."

Posters are plastered everywhere now—Zhou Zhou Zhengyang wouldn't dare show his face."

Zhang Wu glanced at Wang Xiu Zhu, his expression showing approval of his sharp mind.

He said: "Today's been a major breakthrough. I'll write the letter immediately and send a messenger to Jinling tonight—await orders from the Marquis of Lord Weiyuan and Miss Zou." (End of chapter)