Chu Xue

How much time does a woman spend on her toilette? It varies from person to person. And how long can a woman make a man willingly wait while she does it? That... varies from person to person. Chu Xue had once kept a great many of them waiting a whole night, right up until the next day's sun was nearly up, and then she'd have her maid come out and tell you: “My apologies. Miss Chu Xue can't find any powder or rouge to suit her mood today. Do come back another day, sir.” Even a respectable man would get angry over a thing like that. But angry or not, you mustn't lose your manners. If you swallow the insult and really do come back another day, then perhaps she truly will do you the honor of coming out to share a cup with you. But if you puff and glower on the spot, slap the table and start shouting nonsense, then never mind seeing Chu Xue again—you won't be getting through the doors of Qiliu Youran at all. Some might doubt it: could a brothel really wield that much power? Able to shut the door on those “respectable men”? Yes. It could. Because Master Shu had a great many “friends,” and his own true identity was already prominent enough—at least within the lands of Da Ming, there were not many who could touch him. ………… “Please have a seat for a moment, sir.” After Sun Yixie entered the “Winter” private room, a little maid who looked no more than fifteen or sixteen received him. Young as she was, from her eyes to her tone the maid showed none of the innocence and liveliness one would expect of a girl at the age of the hairpin ceremony; on the contrary, she seemed thoroughly practiced and calm. Looking at her, Sun Yixie felt only that it was pitiful, lamentable. But he said nothing, only settled himself at the table and waited in silence. The maid went around the screen, then through an inner door divided off by a beaded curtain, into the room beyond. He couldn't tell what she said to Chu Xue in there, but after a while she came out with a slip of paper. Now Sun Yixie panicked. If the girl wanted to play character riddles with him, he couldn't bear it. But as the saying goes, what you fear is exactly what shows up. This Chu Xue loved nothing better than to set character riddles for people, so before she had even shown herself she had already passed him one. “Sir, our young lady says she'd like you to look at a character first,” the maid said, laying the slip on the table before him. Nothing for it. It was right in front of his eyes now; whether he knew it or not, he had to at least take a look. With a touch of helplessness, Sun Yixie picked up the slip and unfolded it, and sure enough... he didn't recognize the character. The character written on the paper was “??”—outside it a traditional 門, inside it a traditional 見. Taken apart, Sun Yixie would have recognized both pieces, but put together like that, he couldn't even pronounce it. Good thing he couldn't... Had he known this character today, and answered that it was read “tí,” he would have been wrong. The character had to be looked at another way. First, “see” inside “gate”—many people could guess that one, taking it to mean “come in through the gate and meet.” But that wasn't all... hidden in there was another character: “ask.” Chu Xue knew Sun Yixie had come to ask her about something, and knew what that something was, but she could not speak of it—and note, not that she would not, but that she could not. Yet she did very much want to help him find an answer. So what was she to do? So she used an “ask” with no “mouth” in it to hint to Sun Yixie: “Walls have ears. Don't say the question out loud.” And the “ask” with the “mouth” taken off is simply “gate.” Therefore the character's second layer of meaning was this: only by “keeping the mouth shut about that question” could the gate make room for “see”—and only then could she answer him. A single character carried all that information. Tell me, this woman... isn't she a piece of work. Play this game with someone widely read and quick-witted and they might not crack it either—and you're playing it on Sun Yixie, this “illiterate”? Brother Sun stared at the character for a full ten seconds, then slapped the table, looked at the maid standing by waiting for his answer, and declared without a shred of shame, “Good! I get it!” If Huang Donglai had been at his side just then, he'd have seen through him at a glance and told him to his face, “Get what? You don't know squat!” Luckily... Brother Huang wasn't there. “Sir...” The maid was taken aback as well, because Sun Yixie hadn't pronounced the character, which made it seem he might really have understood. “You... truly understand?” “Ah... yeah.” Sun Yixie was quaking inside, but outwardly he kept up the pretense. “But... this... it's hard to say.” He had meant only to make a mystery of it and brush past with that remark, never expecting that “it's hard to say” would land exactly on target, matching precisely what the other side intended. Hearing that, the maid thought: so this young gentleman really has guessed. Startled and delighted at once, she paused a moment, steadied herself, and said, “Very well. Come with me, sir.” Sun Yixie thought he'd bluffed his way through, and was quietly pleased. He got up at once and followed the maid around the screen toward the inner room. Before lifting the beaded curtain, the maid stopped and announced, “Young lady, Young Master Sun—” “I heard it all. Let him in.” Before the maid could finish, Chu Xue called the order from inside. Chu Xue's voice took Sun Yixie a little by surprise. He had assumed that the voice of the house's leading beauty would be like an oriole stepping out of its valley, soft as water, sweet as song—but Chu Xue's was not that cloying, gentle thing at all... it was rather low and mellow, with a charm entirely its own. To put it as a comparison: when that voice reached the ear, it was like taking a bite of soft, glutinous fragrant rice and following it with a spoonful of rich, mellow broth—leaving you comfortable, and lingering on the tongue. A few steps more, through the curtain, and Sun Yixie at last laid eyes on the famous Miss Chu Xue. Both he and Huang had already heard Constable Dong describe her beauty, but seeing her in the flesh, Sun Yixie still froze. The girl wore an embroidered gown of plain, light color, a pale celadon gauze skirt beneath it. Her face was still as water, and she stood there, slender and graceful. Her looks were gentle and lovely without any want of dazzle; her air was dignified without losing its purity. Sun Yixie's gaze slid slowly downward. The figure of this Miss Chu Xue—an orchid breast swelling her silk robes, a willow waist a man's hand could all but span—even a mere lift of her hand or shift of her step was enough to set the imagination wandering... Even having lived two lives, Sun Yixie had to admit that a beauty such as this was rare in the world, and that to call her a fairy descended to earth was no exaggeration. You have to understand: Brother Sun had spent time in a world of advanced cosmetics, outrageous Photoshopping, and commonplace plastic surgery... and in the universe he came from, if he wanted to look at beautiful women, he need only open a browser and search, and tens of thousands would appear. In the single matter of appreciating beautiful women, his standards were plainly broader than those of the emperor of this Da Ming... Which meant that a beauty who could still make Sun Yixie marvel had to be one in ten thousand. “Sir, please sit.” That line from Chu Xue brought the somewhat stupefied Sun Yixie back to himself. “Ah? Oh... right, right.” Sun Yixie answered, and took a seat together with her. The little maid was quite tactful as well; once they were seated she made a wanfu salute and went out, leaving only Young Master Sun and Miss Chu Xue to talk at their leisure. As for Chu Xue, she was a little displeased at the way Sun Yixie had gone straight to “scanning” and staring the moment he set eyes on her, thinking: so this man isn't so different from the rest after all. But... a woman's “unhappiness” comes in two kinds. This kind was the false kind—in fact Chu Xue wasn't really angry at all, and even as she grumbled inwardly she was gaining a sense of superiority. Suppose a man walked in now and couldn't even be bothered to look at her properly, and after looking showed hardly any reaction—that, she would truly have been unhappy about. What women enjoy is not rejecting men, but “holding the power to reject someone.” Yet whether a man wins her or gives her up, the woman loses that power—and that... that is what truly displeases them. “Young Master Sun, do you truly understand what my character meant?” No sooner had they sat than Chu Xue tossed out the question. The less sure Sun Yixie felt inside, the louder his mouth got. “Ha! If I didn't understand, would I be sitting here?” This trick of answering a question with a question—sounding like a retort while working just as well as a question—was something Sun Yixie handled with practiced ease. He was, after all, the Fish Market Tycoon; if he couldn't work the art of passing off fish eyes as pearls, how would he ever have come through all that blade-flash and sword-shadow. “Good.” With that, Chu Xue lifted the wine pot from the table. The table had long since been laid with wine and dishes, cups, bowls, chopsticks, and spoons all in place. Now Chu Xue poured Sun Yixie a cup with her own hands, and lifted one for herself. “Then tonight we shall speak of romance only, and ask after nothing else,” Chu Xue said, raising her cup in toast. “Uh... sure.” Sun Yixie hadn't understood the character just now, so naturally he didn't grasp the deeper meaning behind this line either; he simply saw that she'd said it, and went along with it, taking up his cup to return the toast. They had exchanged only a single cup when Miss Chu Xue's face had already gone a little red. It wasn't that her capacity was poor; it was a matter of constitution. Plainly put: the capillaries, nerve endings, and blood circulation in her face were better than an ordinary person's, and with skin that fair, that tender, that ready to burst at a breath, the flush showed all the more plainly. Seeing that the girl's cheeks had already gone apricot and peach after one cup, Sun Yixie smiled at once. “Miss Chu Xue, the wine doesn't make the man drunk—the man makes himself drunk~” The little bit of ink in Brother Sun's belly could produce nothing better than that worn-out line, quoted to death in the modern world. Still, spoken here in Da Ming, it worked well enough... “Young Master Sun quotes the classics the moment he opens his mouth. This humble girl is of little learning and shallow skill; I'm afraid I can't keep up.” But this time Chu Xue was genuinely a little displeased. Her words were praise on the surface and a dig underneath. And there was no “can't keep up” about it—never mind you, Sun Yixie; set a top scholar in front of her and she could still answer fluently. It was only that she felt this Young Master Sun had been somewhat absent-minded ever since he saw her, all his attention fixed on her person, and his real business forgotten. Tonight, Chu Xue's hope was to pass along as much of what she knew as she could through their conversation, on the premise that someone was eavesdropping. She believed that from the character riddle Sun Yixie had understood her meaning—but just now he didn't seem to be heading in that direction at all. “Oh? Is that so?” Sun Yixie laughed on hearing that. “Ha! Actually I don't care for flowery talk either. Since Miss Chu Xue says so, I'll put my words a little more plainly from here on.” Now Chu Xue was baffled all over again, thinking: “Huh? Was that deliberate just now? Taking that opening to change the way we talk? Perhaps... what he says next hides some deeper point?” She... was overthinking it. “First...” The next second Sun Yixie quite naturally picked up his chopsticks and, with great rudeness and no breeding whatsoever, spoke while eating from the dishes. “I need to confirm one thing with you. What counts as ‘romance’? And what counts as ‘other’?” Hearing that, Chu Xue grew rather exasperated and spoke bluntly. “The thing you came to ask me about today is ‘other.’ Everything besides that thing is ‘romance.’ Put that way, does the young master understand?” Sun Yixie really did understand. He merely lacked education; his wits were fine, and he could take the meaning beneath the words—walls have ears, so it's inconvenient to speak plainly, that's all. In fact, even if Chu Xue hadn't put it so baldly, Sun Yixie had already guessed that someone would be eavesdropping. From the madam's martial skill to the boss's invitation, every bit of it showed how deep the waters at Qiliu Youran ran. “Got it! Got it, got it.” Sun Yixie answered several times and immediately changed tack. “Romance, is it... Then of these four arts—zither, Go, calligraphy, painting—let's start by chatting about the zither.” There really was a yaoqin set out in Chu Xue's room. “Young Master Sun... knows music as well?” Chu Xue assumed he meant to use the zither to exchange some kind of signal with her. “I do.” Sun Yixie raised an eyebrow. “I was even hoping to play a piece together with you, Miss.” “Do you mean that?” Chu Xue was beginning to feel unsure herself now; she truly could not tell what sort of stunt Sun Yixie would pull. “Heh heh...” Sun Yixie smiled, eyes narrowing. “Easily arranged, easily arranged. Me, I'm better at percussion...” ………… A while later, in Master Shu's room. By now Huang Donglai had gone, and Master Shu was once again alone inside. Knock knock—knock knock knock— The knocking came again. “Enter,” Master Shu answered. This time it was a man who came in. By his dress he was merely one of the lowest brothel drudges, but his eyes were very alert, and his movements especially quiet. “Boss, over at Miss Xue'er's side... something's off,” the man reported straight into Master Shu's ear, bending close. “Off in what way?” Master Shu's manner was rather leisurely. “Don't tell me she's been talking loosely.” “This subordinate doesn't know...” the man answered. “Hm?” Master Shu turned his head and glared at him. “What do you mean by that?” The man's face showed his difficulty. “That Young Master Sun said he wanted to study music with Miss Xue'er, and then he called for several gongs and drums to be brought in, and started banging on them in the room. This subordinate really couldn't...” “Hah...” At that, Master Shu couldn't help laughing. “Well now, Sun Yixie. He really knows how to enjoy himself...” “Master Shu, what should we do now?” The man seemed rather anxious and pressed on at once. “What. To. Do?” Master Shu repeated the three words one at a time, then threw the question back at him. “I'd rather ask you—what do you intend to do?” By now a note of mockery had crept into his voice. “When you killed Zheng Mukai, you were full of ideas, weren't you? Now the woman you're fond of is shut in a room with another man, doing heaven knows what... and you come running to me to ask what to do?” At that the man in the brothel drudge's clothes went tense all over; that pair of tiger eyes of his looked ready to bulge with blood, but he still held it in, not a word, not a movement. “Hah...” Seeing the man like that, Master Shu sneered on and on, and only after a brief pause did he speak. “Fine. Since you've asked, I'll tell you... do whatever you want to do. And if you don't do it, you're no man—you're a live wangba, a cuckold. As for what becomes of a turtle's woman... I don't need to spell that out for you, do I?” Before his words had finished, the man had left the room like a gust of wind, without even a word of leave-taking. Master Shu looked toward the door, his face turning savage, spat once, and only then rose and shut the door himself.