Nightfall

Angry Mistress Jian in House of Red Sleeves

Many years later, standing along that lonely mountain cliff, Ning Que recalled the scene of meeting Mistress Jian for the first time. He still could not help but look back, and sighed for a long time, with a self-deprecating smile and emotion on his face.

At that time, he went upstairs with the hope that he himself was the so-called luckiest man of the night, walking all the way as if to see that top courtesan waiting for him. However, when a little maidservant pushed the red door and uncovered the bead curtain, he hadn’t thought of meeting such a woman, but rather a girl.

The old woman had very clear crow’s feet around her eyes but a perfect body maintenance, with plump breasts, a slender waist, and fat buttocks in a cloth gown. But she had an extremely wide forehead that was like an uplifted smooth dune on grassland—simple and kind eyebrows and eyes, as well as very thin hair under her straight nose and above the thick lips. She wasn’t ugly but could never deserve the title of a beauty in a million, let alone the top courtesan.

He was fond of the beautiful little girls of his similar age, slightly older ladies, and even charming mature woman over 30 years old. Nevertheless, Mistress Jian belonged to none of them, who was merely an ordinary woman over 40 years old with the man-like tolerance and calmness.

After a short time of hesitation, Ning Que immediately felt that he looked a little impolite, so he forced himself to calm down and put on a sincere smile, greeting a bow with hands folded in front to the woman, and then asked her, “What can I do for you, Mistress Jian?”

“Whose lad are you?” Mistress Jian asked, smiling at him.

Ning Que did not conceal but recounted his background.

“Although the applicants recommended by the Military Ministry aren’t few this year, you must be a talented one to have passed the preliminary test of the academy.”

The Mistress glanced at him with approval and continued, “Since you have come from the border town, you should have no idea of who I am. But my lad, it instead proves your stable character when you were able to calm down in our first meeting quickly.”

Ning Que tried his best to lower his head, deliberately not looking at her grassland-wide forehead or thin hair above her lips, and subconsciously tried to keep a low profile after listening to her.

Through the woman’s simple introduction and that little maidservant’s proud decorative narration, he finally knew why those people downstairs were particularly concerned about the name of Mistress Jian.

Thirty years ago, during the new reign of South Jin Kingdom, a song-and-dance troupe called House of Red Sleeves won the most applause in the ceremony, gradually broadcasting its reputation to the world. Just three years later, because of many Tang girls inside House of Red Sleeves, Tang Emperor specifically wrote a letter to ask it to move into Tang Empire, which the Emperor of South Jin Kingdom was not able to resist but only accepted.

Since then, House of Red Sleeves had been in Chang’an. For nearly two decades, they only danced in the Tang’s palace and court instead of other countries’ events, which caused their fame to vanish among the common people.

But for those high officials and noble lords, this song-and-dance troupe, which was specifically asked by the most powerful empire to perennially station in the greatest of cities, Chang’an, was no doubt still the best one in the world. Although there was no name for this brothel where they lived, it was and would always be the number one brothel.

As long as someone arrived in Chang’an—maybe the South Jin Kingdom envoy, or the Yuelun Kingdom officials came to pay tribute, or even the Tribe of Savages King on the grassland, one always came here to invite the House of Red Sleeves girls to sing and dance. It was said that Yan Kingdom Prince had spent the most difficult first two years in House of Red Sleeves, when he was sent to Chang’an as a hostage seven years ago.