spoiled brat

Chapter 54 53. Duan Ming (3)

After being promoted, he coldly said, "I could never marry a prostitute."

You Ming still remembers Yao Niang's expression at that time, like a candle that was about to burn out, slowly dimming.

She said she understood and that he could leave.

As You Ming stepped out the door, the melodious sound of a moon lute drifted from the dilapidated little house behind him. The tune was not sad, yet it made people want to cry.

The wind carried the fragrance of flowers, and the yueqin gradually fell silent.

You Ming stood outside the door, staring coldly at the flowers that Yao Niang had planted, and said, word by word, "Consider that money as a loan, and I will repay you double in the future."

You Ming told himself that to achieve great things, one must always let down some people, give up some things, and sever some emotions.

Just like a few years ago, his parents asked someone to deliver a letter to him, saying that they were both seriously ill and would not live much longer, and asked him to come home to preside over the funeral.

He only read the first half of the letter before throwing it into the fire, and then followed his superior into the mountains to suppress bandits.

He was stabbed eight times. He lost half his life, but was promoted for his meritorious service. He would never know that the second half of the letter said: Son, it doesn't matter if you don't come back. We will be watching over you from heaven.

Now he flees in the pale yellow twilight, the night drowning the sun, and boundless darkness enveloping him.

In fact, if he had just stayed in the room a little longer, or pushed open the door to look at that face silently shedding tears, he would have gotten a heartfelt message that no amount of money could buy in the future: I had long guessed my fate. Being deceived and used by you was something I did willingly.

After getting rid of Yao Niang, he was promoted, made a fortune, married and had children, and put all the past behind him.

Only in his spare time does he recall the debt he once owed to a young prostitute.

Guilt? He has enough money to settle old scores.

With a wave of his hand, he tossed out a ten-thousand-tael silver note and instructed his steward, "Go to Qingyang County and give this money to a prostitute named Yaoniang."

After hesitating for a moment, he said, "Be fierce, I'm afraid she'll cling to me."

A few days later, the steward returned and handed the silver notes back to him intact: "Master, I've checked, the prostitute is dead."

You Mingkong paused for a moment, then dropped the teacup in his hand and shattered it. He stammered, "...Dead?"

The butler looked at him and said, word by word, "Yes, she is dead."

You Ming's mind was buzzing.

He didn't know that prostitutes could also have backbone; more than money, Yao Niang wanted a face-to-face apology.

She refused what felt like a humiliating attempt at redress and decisively paid the price for her past youthful ignorance.

You Ming remembers those most bitter and difficult days when he and Yao Niang depended on each other for survival, like two mice huddling together for warmth in a ditch.

Those fragmented memories, though touching, are mixed in with the unbearable past, like sugar that has fallen into the mud, impossible to clean even if picked up.

That's good; the dirty history of his rise to power should be buried.

He might as well forget about it completely; he owes no one anything anymore.

But along with the news of Yao Niang's death came bad luck.

His career was thwarted, he was sidelined, and became a powerless pawn.

His wife suffered a postpartum hemorrhage, his young son died of illness, and all the concubines he took in afterward suffered misfortunes and had no more children.

One day, You Ming gave all the servants a day off: "You may all leave." Then he stood in the empty courtyard, looking at the sunset before him, so magnificent, yet so despairing, just like that evening many years ago.

-

A red book was held up in front of him, and a voice in his ear pulled him back to reality: "Sir, this is the gift list for Prefect Xu. Please take a look."

You Ming suddenly came to his senses, and the ivory chopsticks in his hand fell to the ground with a crisp sound, startling the children at the table so much that they dared not move.

He smiled, but didn't laugh out loud: "Keep eating."

Hearing this, the children dared to continue eating, and their movements became much more refined than before.

The seemingly loving father and filial son before him was a facade. You Ming knew this, but he didn't care; he himself had climbed up the ranks by flattering and ingratiating himself.

He took the gift list from the butler, flipping through it as he whispered, "There's not enough food for the kids, tell the kitchen to make some more."

The butler whispered in his ear, "Exactly the same as the one on the table?"

The table was laden with fine grains and delicacies, but these poor kids couldn't tell the difference and ended up wasting it.

You Ming scoffed, "Just make some oily and greasy food."

When the steward returned with the dishes, You Ming had finished reviewing the gift list. Pointing out a few flaws, he said, "We didn't prepare enough of the best-quality goods. How can three thousand taels of gold be enough? Go check how much is left in the warehouse. Even if we empty it, we still need to gather five thousand taels."

His relationship with Xu Feng was not as close as it seemed on the surface. Not only did he do all the dirty and tiring work, but he also had to show filial piety to Xu Feng on a daily basis.

The steward nodded and noted it down. You Ming continued, "It's obvious you're not serious about your work. What's the point of preparing a jade Buddha statue from the Northern and Southern Dynasties? Prefect Xu stopped believing in Buddhism a long time ago!"

“But…” the butler asked, puzzled.

"Who is Prefect Xu's superior? Isn't it the Imperial Concubine's father, Minister Wu..." You Ming's voice trailed off as he pointed to the sky obscured by the roof tiles: "He used to believe in Buddhism to curry favor with Minister Wu. Now that Minister Wu is increasingly favored by the Emperor, he was recently summoned to the palace to serve him during his fasting."

The steward understood; believing in Buddhism or Taoism was simply following the trend: "I'll go down and replenish some Taoist artifacts right away!"

Just as he was about to leave, he remembered something and said, "Master, the women we prepared before, Prefect Xu probably doesn't like most of them."

You Ming frowned: "I only pick the most beautiful women, even the most discerning lecher can be satisfied."

"Oh dear, Lord Xu doesn't like such a beautiful woman..."

The butler, finding it difficult to speak, whispered a few words in You Ming's ear.

Upon hearing this, You Ming's face turned pale, and he grabbed his hand, saying, "Where did you find out about this?"

“There is a maid in the inner quarters of the Xu household who is from the same hometown as me.”

You Ming frowned and muttered, "So that's why they wouldn't let us into the backyard of the Xu residence. Turns out it's all about this kind of thing. The women he likes aren't easy to find..."

He suddenly stopped and asked the steward, "Did anyone from the music academy come this morning?" "Yes, they did. Steward Sun said that the girl who was harassed by the Prince of Ning's mansion last night is unharmed. Last night, a young master requested her music, praised it highly, and asked Steward Sun about her price—"

Before he could finish speaking, You Ming interrupted, "Prepare the car and go to the brothel to pick her up!"

-

Without the embellishment and illumination of lights, the green tiles and beams of the music hall looked like a clump of withered straw. A wisp of wind squeezed in, swirled around, and could not escape.

Zhao Zhao smelled the cloying scent of cosmetics in the wind, looked at her face in the mirror, which was covered in powder and rouge, and felt inexplicably absurd. She smiled, and her poorly styled hair slipped down, its thick black strands obscuring her vision.

A snow-white hand gathered her hair back, and Wang Liuer in the mirror didn't seem very happy: "With your looks, if you take a few more years to recover, you might find a better client than Lord You."

Zhao Zhao smiled, but her eyes were icy cold: "I don't care for those who are better. The one I'm looking for is Lord You."

She learned everything about the past—the dirty, the sordid, the ungrateful, the unforgivable.

“Silly girl, his money isn’t easy to earn.” Wang Liu’er thought she was greedy for wealth and advised, “Just look at how I look now, and you’ll know that following him will only lead to a bad end. He’s a whore in officialdom, used to using women and money to please his superiors and win over his colleagues.”

She chuckled self-deprecatingly: "No matter who it is, getting close to him will lead to being exploited to the bone. He flattered me for eight months, and although I looked glamorous, I didn't earn as much money as some of the more hardworking girls in the brothel. I lost count of how many people I entertained during that time. He even forced me to entertain guests on the anniversaries of my parents' deaths... Could you live like that?"

Even though she felt utterly hopeless, Wang Liuer still stayed by You Ming's side.

Zhao Zhao recalled the conversation she overheard that night. Xu Feng was You Ming's godfather. Could it be that Wang Liuer endured all this just so that she could be introduced to Xu Feng one day?
Seeing her lost in thought, Wang Liuer raised her hand and waved it: "What are you thinking about?"

Both of them had their own worries. Zhao Zhao didn't like to pry into her friend's wounds, so she changed the subject to cover up her earlier daze: "I was thinking about when I was a prostitute in my eighth month."

Wang Liuer wanted to hear more, so Zhaozhao continued.

“When I was eight months old, the brand on my shoulder had just scabbed over.” She pulled down her clothes, casually revealing the brand. “I was young then, and didn’t know any better. I secretly ran away to play with a girl from a nice family. Over time, we became friends. One afternoon, she invited me to stay for lunch. Unfortunately, her father had been with my mother. When he saw me, he was stunned and said, ‘Aren’t you so-and-so’s daughter?’”

"That was the first time I felt ashamed of my identity. I lied and said I wasn't a prostitute, made up stories and fabricated a story about good parents, but what good did it do? They ripped my clothes off and exposed me completely."

Wang Liuer hugged Zhaozhao and rested her chin on her shoulder.

"I was kicked out of the house by that girl's father, still clutching the candy she had given me. I didn't want to leave, so I stood outside her window, hoping she would come out and say we were still good friends. But when she peeked out the window, her expression of disgust was as if she had a grudge against me. She pointed at my hand and said childishly, 'You don't deserve to eat it, throw it away!'"

Zhao Zhao mimicked the little girl from her memory, making herself laugh: "I spread my hands and said, 'Come out, I'll give it back to you.' I really wanted to give it back to her... but she spat at me and said it was dirty and she didn't want it anymore."

"Sister Liu'er, guess what I was thinking at that time?"

"What are you thinking about?"

Zhao Zhao nuzzled Wang Liuer's fair earlobe with the tip of her nose and whispered, "I'm thinking that every wrong has its perpetrator and every debt its debtor. Whoever made me born inferior to others, I will cut them into a thousand pieces and never let them go."

The smell of hatred was fishy and bitter. Wang Liuer smelled it and asked firmly, "What if that person could crush you with one foot?"

"Same."

Footsteps came from the wooden corridor outside the door, and a man said in a deep voice, "Hurry up and let her come out and come with us. The master is getting furious waiting at home!"

Normally, at this time, Manager Sun would urge people to leave quickly, but today he put on airs: "The girls here must be sent out looking beautiful, unlike those prostitutes who just walk away after getting up."

The man's momentum waned, and he muttered, "Grandma Sun, you're talking like a firecracker today. Who offended you? I'm just out here on business. Why are you making things difficult for me?"

As they spoke, two figures landed on the paper frame, and the door creaked open.

When the man who had been sent to pick them up saw Zhao Zhao sitting at a low table doing her makeup, he was stunned. How could this be a little girl?

"Is she the one who played the moon lute last night?"

"Correct."

"On such a fine day, why am I being sent out to do this job that harms children?" The man gave a bitter smile, took out some silver and stuffed it into Steward Sun's hand: "Hurry up, I'm so embarrassed."

Manager Sun said to the man and Wang Liuer, "You two go out first. I have something to say to Zhaozhao."

The door opened and then closed, letting in light that fell directly on Zhao Zhao's face. She put down the lipstick in her hand, looked at Steward Sun in the shadows, and asked knowingly, "Grandma, what do you want to tell me?"

Steward Sun walked step by step to Zhao Zhao, gently cupped her face in his hands, and after examining her closely, said, "You look just like your mother."

Zhao Zhao said, "It's a pity she's not as pretty as my mother."

Steward Sun picked up face powder and lip rouge and applied them to Zhao Zhao's face, trying to make her look vulgar: "When you meet Lord You later, if he can't stand the makeup on your face, you'll be set for life."

As she spoke, she picked up a domino and pinned it to Zhao Zhao's chest, making her look every bit the prostitute.

Knock, knock, knock. The man outside the door grew impatient and muttered, "Is it done yet? Grandma Sun, you can't teach me those bedroom tricks! Once you get involved, you just—"

Before the words were finished, the door opened, revealing a face heavily made up. Such a young girl! The man cursed inwardly, "What a waste!" and waved to Zhao Zhao, saying, "Come with me."

Wang Liuer looked at Zhao Zhao's frail figure and sighed with a mixture of disgust and helplessness. Just as she was about to leave, Steward Sun, who came out of the house, called out to her: "Liuer, come in."

Her foot wasn't fully healed, so Wang Liuer had to lean against the wall to walk. She went inside, head down, trembling as she held onto the chair, too afraid to sit down.

Steward Sun used his fan to lift her skirt and glanced at the size of her embroidered shoes: "What size are they?"

"Grandma, it's almost four inches."

Three inches is considered a golden lotus, four inches a silver lotus, and anything over four inches is considered a bronze lotus. A woman's natural feet should be eight or nine inches, but to bind them halfway smaller goes against human nature; how could that be an easy thing to do?
The sight of the deformed foot sent a chill down Steward Sun's spine. She looked away and said, "This is the kind of suffering that should have taken years to endure, but you rushed through it in just a month or two. What was the point?"

Wang Liuer raised her head and revealed a smile befitting a prostitute: "What else could it be? My biggest client used to be Lord You, but he never even considered redeeming me. Other officials only treated me like a plaything... I have to find a way out for myself."

That makes sense.

Manager Sun pointed to the chair: "Sit." Staring at Wang Liuer's face, he said, "I won't ask where you heard the news, but you definitely made the right bet."

Wang Liuer thought that the information she had obtained at great expense must be correct.

Everyone says the new prefect is honest, just, and not interested in women.

Shit.

He was clearly so vulgar that he only dared to do his dirty deeds in his own backyard. As a result, few people knew that this old man only slept with three types of girls: pregnant women who were about to give birth, girls with bound feet that were small and pointed, and girls in their early teens.

(End of this chapter)