Nightfall

A Conversation Changed Chang'an Jianghu World

Ning Que had not the slightest clue that the owner of the House of Red Sleeves was staring at him coldly from the top floor, let alone that the owner was already furious at him for teasing the girls playfully. Sitting casually as usual beside Dewdrop, Ning Que continued to chat her up to know more about the death of Zhang Yiqi.

“I like the way you smile, and your cute dimples.” Dewdrop cast sheep’s eyes at Ning Que and said, “Back to the point, now that you’re going to take the exam of the academy, you ought to study properly. If you don’t enroll, people may say it’s us, the prostitutes, who distracted you. How would you pay us for such a bad name?”

Another girl teased. “It’s not about us. Ning Que comes here every day only to see you. How could that have anything to do with us?”

What Dewdrop said might sound like banter, but yet she is quite concerned. Ning Que’s heart suddenly felt warm, and with a smile answered something comforting like, “No need to worry, I’m already prepared”. Sangsang was off to the side eating sunflower seeds while chatting with a maidservant called Xiaocao, and fell into secret thinking. “The young master’s words were total crap, the academy entrance exam had six disciplines altogether. How much did you review even though I urged you every day?”

Although Sangsang did not need to dress up to appear like a manservant, the girls in the brothel had acquired a sharp eye over all these years to know that she was a plain-looking nobody. Xiaocao, chatting with Sangsang, felt a lot of sympathy for her, thinking to herself, “Ning Que must dislike Sangsang for her plain appearance and shamelessly comes to brothels for pretty girls.”

In one of the top floor rooms, a middle-aged man clad in an indigo robe strolled toward the backstage and stood abreast with the owner of the House of Red Sleeves, looking downstairs at the lad who sat in a chair chatting up the girls that surrounded him. The corners of the middle-aged man’s mouth curled up, and his face seemed to light up suddenly.

The man said with a smile, “If this lad is the last tenant at Lin 47th Street, I certainly have no reason to allow him.” He continued, “Throw him out. All the rental deeds are in my hands now. By the time I transfer them to the yamen, I bet you couldn’t think of any excuses to refuse if the Chang’an Local Government was going to sequester the street.”

“All the shopkeepers at Lin 47th Street were once driven off by you, except me. Have you ever seen me lowering my head?” The indigo-robed man smiled and continued, “Let alone, you aren’t capable of turning him out of doors.”

“Really?” The man stared at his eyes silently and suddenly laughed, saying, “You might be right. I bet no one dares to make a move merely upon hearing your name—Old Chao from Spring Breeze Pavilion.”

The indigo-robed man smiled, but said nothing, turning to sit back in his chair.

Earlier on he was informed by Lao Si, and was already aware of what happened at Lin 47th Street today. A young scholar who came from nowhere showed little fear at the imminent gang battle, even asked for a fleecing, and scrambled one year’s rent from his hand. Unfathomably, the lad did not ask for an arbitrary price but dealt with it very carefully. In other words, his bearing was impressive.

On the first day of the opening of the Old Brush Pen Shop, he went to Lin 47th Street, not for seeking shelter from the rain, but to find out which dimwit was foolhardy enough to rent one of his shops. After examining the lad’s presence, he knew that the boy was no dimwit whatsoever, even if he didn’t have a clue what happened in the Jianghu world of Chang’an.

No fool in this world could write down those admirable calligraphy works, and no fool would have such heavy calluses between his thumb and forefingers, revealing his frequent use of swords. Thinking about those calligraphy works hanging on the wall that were oozing great strength and a somewhat hidden intent of killing, and what Qi Si described today, the middle-aged man suspected that the lad had killed a man. More specifically, he suspected that he had killed countless men.