From a tuberculosis patient to a martial arts master

As soon as they stepped into the painted boat, the gate was filled with brocade and splendor.

Then one sees a black lacquered stage in the center of the front hall, covered with scarlet velvet, with blue cloth curtains behind it and bamboo blinds hanging on both sides. Dozens of long benches are set up in front of the stage, covered with straw mats, and there are scattered seats on both sides, all occupied by well-dressed and respectable people.

On that day, a line of words was written in vivid vermilion ink on the signboard:

[Bai Xiuying, the actress]

Performance – The Small Banquet at the Palace of Eternal Life

The audience below was bustling, buzzing like a swarm of bees gathering nectar. Just as I was gazing intently, a sweet, honey-scented call reached my ear:

"Oh my, my distinguished guest, the spring breeze seems to have flown in with you!"

Zhu Hong turned his head and saw a woman gracefully approaching. Before she even arrived, her ripe, sweet scent, mixed with musk and orchid ointment, already enveloped him.

It turned out that "Mom" had arrived.

She was around forty years old, wearing a light purple satin jacket with butterflies and flowers. The neckline was lower than others. When she walked quickly, her figure didn't seem to be walking, but rather like waves pushing and swaying, with each step a sway.

The swaying of the shirt revealed a glimpse of the moon-white undergarment beneath.

She leaned closer. "This official looks unfamiliar. May I ask where he works?" Before she finished speaking, her hand, with its fingertips tinged with the faint red of balsam flowers, reached out and placed it on Zhu Hong's arm, subtly leading him into the inner room: "Please come in and sit down. It's chilly outside."

Having said that, he glanced inside:

"Spring peach blossoms, autumn moon—aren't you going to welcome our guests?"

With this shout, two alluring women with pink hair, their figures partially obscured by thin veils, emerged from behind the screen.

The moment their eyes met Zhu Hong's black robes, they were like cats seeing meat, swaying their hips and clinging to him. One spoke first, her voice soft and sweet: "Sir, how shall I address you?" The other followed closely behind, a subtle fragrance wafting from her sleeve.

"Judging by your bearing, you must be a high-ranking official in the government."

"I have been in this riverside community for years, and I have never seen such a handsome and dashing young man!" As she spoke, she reached out her hand and went straight to grab the official's arm.

But his fingertips stopped abruptly as they brushed against the black lacquered scabbard.

cold.

The scabbard was cold, but the hand gripping the hilt was even colder.

Zhu Hong remained completely still, not even glancing at the two women, whose beauty would make the poor men outside stare in disbelief. He simply turned aside. It was a gesture of disgust, made without any attempt to conceal it.

"Have self-respect."

The two words were uttered neither too softly nor too harshly, yet they caused the two women's faces to flush and turn pale.

Having spent half her life in the world of brothels, Madam Sai could tell from this scene that the virgin was not there for a tryst.

I suspect that the one carrying the knife is harboring ulterior motives...

No, they came with ill intentions.

Her eyes darted around, and with a flick of her fragrant handkerchief, she covered her mouth and giggled, "Oh my, look at my eyes! They belong to an official on official business." As she spoke, she gave a sidelong glance to the two maids:

"Get out of here, you unruly scoundrel!"

The two retreated dejectedly, muttering under their breath, "Hmph, what a cold-faced gentleman, so clueless about romance..." and other such complaints.

"Gentleman, do you look like you're on official business?"

Madam Sai toned down her soft and seductive manner, her fingertips lightly twirling a handkerchief, her face showing only worldly wisdom and tact: "If the official is looking for someone, I have been making a living in this Huai River estuary for many years, and I know everyone on land and water. You may ask around."

She paused, her gaze sweeping over the sword at Zhu Hong's waist, her tone softening:

"But if you intend to investigate this matter, I'll make it clear from the outset." Leaning forward, a rich fragrance enveloped him:

"Our White Dragon Boat mainly associates with officials and similar people."

Before he finished speaking, the pockmarked, burly man who had been guarding the entrance to the White Dragon Boat came from the side corridor, leaned close to the madam in charge's ear, whispered a few words, and then secretly glanced at Zhu Hong.

Li Hang?!

Mother Sai's expression changed, and a glint of light flashed in her eyes. Her waist suddenly went limp, and she moved softly half a step closer to Zhu Hong, like a peach soaked in honey.

"oops!"

She let out a short laugh, her eyes soft as spring water: "So you're Master Hang's esteemed guest! My eyes deserve punishment, truly punishment!" As she spoke, she leaned closer, her body soft and inviting her upwards: "Upstairs, we have freshly arrived dragon tea buds. Would you do me the honor of going up to rest?"

Her breath was light and warm, penetrating right under one's ear:

"Master Hang will be back in a moment."

"Please rest assured... and wait a moment."

Zhu Hong didn't stand on ceremony. He shook his hand, flicked his sleeve, and stood up. "Then I'll go upstairs and wait."

Upon reaching the second floor, a completely different world unfolds.

If downstairs is a scene of "demons dancing wildly," then this place is a scene of "refined scoundrels."

Gone was the blatant clamor; the air was filled with the more refined scent of sandalwood, and the music was deliberately tuned to be melodious and lingering, like whispers. Many gentlemen in silk robes either pretended to ponder the poems inscribed on the fans in the singers' hands, or used the pretext of playing drinking games to slip their hands under the water-red silk robes.

The soft laughter and the rustling of clothes were more tantalizing to the ears than outright cries of pleasure.

"Huh? What's this constable doing here..."

Zhu Hong's black official uniform made him stand out somewhat, like a crow landing among peacocks.

"Could it be that some kind of lawsuit has broken out?"

"What is Mother Sai up to, bringing up this evil spirit and ruining the whole pleasant atmosphere for no reason?"

"No, no!"

"I think that constable is a kindred spirit."

"..."

Just as the air in the room seemed to freeze, Sai's mother hurried upstairs, her steps quick and intermittent.

"Oh dear, gentlemen, what's going on here?" The voice was so soft it could melt your heart: "He's just a friend from the government office, who's boarded the boat to visit an old friend and ask for a drink. How did he manage to spoil your refined mood?"

She laughed, her voice trembling:

"Can't you even listen to the performance of Miss Bai on stage?"

The words were spoken in a single sentence.

The whole scene immediately came alive.

The young man in brocade robes, leaning against the railing, had long suppressed his panic. Now, emboldened by the wine, he waved his folding fan and teased, "Mother Sai, you'd better smile more in the future." He lightly closed his fan and shook it slightly, "That snow-white, fluffy milk bun trembles..." His tone was wanton and unrestrained.

"All the courtesans in Kohiho are alluring!"

His words elicited a chorus of low laughter from the surrounding young men; some slapped the table in agreement, while others let out a soft whistle.

"valid reason……!"

Instead of getting angry, Mom Sai put her hands on her hips and gave her a flirtatious wink: "Alright, alright, I won't argue with you anymore."

After saying that, she swayed her waist and led Zhu Hong to a private room with the character "地" on it.

"Please have a seat, sir."

Her smile remained as sharp as a honey-coated blade, sweet yet dangerous: "What would you like to have, sir?"

Zhu Hong took off his waist knife.

With a soft "clang," it made a sound.

The goose-feather knife lay across the tabletop decorated with gilded begonia flowers.

"Since Li Hang is hosting, how can we refuse to accept this offer?"

Zhu Hong straightened his cuffs, sat down with an air of authority, his back ramrod straight, a stark contrast to the slumped figures around him, lost in their pleasures. "Take your best wines and most expensive dishes, the ones that take the time and are all show, and prepare enough for ten people." He looked up, his gaze like two nails, piercing the madam's heavily made-up face, and added:

"Keep it all in Li Hang's account. If he asks, just say—" He grinned.

Zhu Hong thanked him for his generosity.