"What did you say?"
"It's another dream--" The man paused midway through his sentence, curled his fingers to cover his mouth, hunched his back slightly, and coughed violently for a while. A bunch of messy black hair was shaken down in front of his face. After coughing, the man immediately stood up, took a step back, and leaned against the vermilion pillars of the lakeside pavilion. He looked as if he would be blown over by a gust of wind.
One of the principles of navigating the world is to mind your own business.
Hua Chongyang glanced at the sickly, unlucky fellow who had turned away and started coughing again, and suddenly felt it was best to stay away from him.
"You'd better watch yourself."
After saying that, she turned to turn around.
But after taking only one step, she heard the man ask indistinctly behind her:
"...Hua Chongyang? Is that you, Hua Chongyang?"
He paused in his steps.
She turned her head in surprise and met a pair of long, seemingly sleepy eyes.
A smile played on the man's lips as he gazed at her for a moment before leaning against a pillar beneath the pavilion, slowly closing his eyes as if asleep. His thick white fur coat draped to the ground, leaving him in only a light, soft gray robe, his upturned face etched with weariness.
Whether out of curiosity or pity, Hua Chongyang, who usually avoided meddling in other people's business, couldn't help but walk closer to examine him more closely.
Where have I seen this person before?
His broad, flat forehead was as white as jade, his long eyebrows reached his temples, he had a pair of slender eyes with slightly upturned corners, a straight nose, thin lips, a chin as sharp as if cut by a knife, and hair as black as ink.
With his eyes closed, he had the face of an ordinary man.
But when he opened his eyes, still half-drunk, he glanced at her and she couldn't take her eyes off him.
Covering her face with a handkerchief, leaving only her eyes exposed, she could probably fetch a high price at a brothel. Hua Chongyang couldn't help but think maliciously. If the brothel owner, Ye Qinghua, would even exploit someone like her—neither male nor female—let alone someone with such beautiful eyes?
Lost in thought, Hua Chongyang noticed the man's eyelashes flutter slightly. She quickly looked away, and when she turned back, she saw him glance at her blurry with his eyes, then impatiently flick his sleeve.
"You may leave... I'm tired."
Then she closed her eyes again.
Perhaps feeling a sudden surge of sympathy, Hua Chongyang hesitated for a moment, then picked up the fox fur coat from the ground and draped it over the man. The fox fur coat was thick, soft, and light, and she expected it to be very warm, but after only a moment away from the man's body, Hua Chongyang accidentally touched the man's fingertips and found them to be ice-cold, so cold that she shivered.
Then she straightened up and looked at the peaceful sleeping face under the thick fox fur coat, and suddenly felt that this trip was a bit of a pity.
...So she went back, picked up the remaining half-jar of wine on the stone table, and walked outside.
The brothel was named "Qinglou," and its owner, Ye Qinghua, was always proud of this name.
"If you're going to open a brothel, open it openly and honestly, give it a name that's easy to understand. Don't go for things like 'Drunken Moon Pavilion' or 'Peaceful Heart Courtyard,' I can't pull off that kind of refined elegance!"
Go through the quiet, secluded back door, and you'll find a path leading to it. The path runs along the wall of the brothel. Hua Chongyang, carrying a wine jar in one hand, walked along and could vaguely hear orchestral music coming from the Linchun Pavilion on the distant Spring Lake.
"Year after year, day after day, it's all before my eyes..."
Through the layers of withered branches and fallen willows, the lights on Spring Lake flickered in the distance, further highlighting the secluded and dark atmosphere beneath the wall. Suddenly, a rustling sound arose, and Hua Chongyang slowed his pace, his left hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at his waist.
Who knows what dangers lurk in this dark place?
There was another creak.
The sound came from behind the laurel tree in front. Hua Chongyang's hand gripping the dagger tightened suddenly. Before he could make a move, a figure emerged from behind the laurel tree, cursing as he spoke:
"You old cat! You escaped again! Next time I catch you, I'll skin you alive!"
The familiar voice made Hua Chongyang breathe a sigh of relief. She withdrew her hand from the dagger and quietly walked forward, speaking to the figure with his back to her:
"Blue and white porcelain."
"ah--"
"Don't call me! Don't call me! It's me!"
With a long scream, Ye Qinghua turned around quickly, and only stopped screaming and started cursing when she saw that the person was Hua Chongyang:
"You want to die?! You suddenly spoke up behind me! You almost scared the hell out of me—"
The light coming from the building across the street was dim, but by the faint glow, Ye Qinghua could see Hua Chongyang's expression. Her cursing abruptly stopped, she raised her eyebrows and stared at him for a moment, then suddenly changed her tune:
Are you alright?
"Hmm, what's wrong?" Hua Chongyang replied casually, raising the wine jar in his hand and smiling slightly at her. "Oh, by the way, I brought a jar of wine. Do you have any wine cups?"
Ye Qinghua raised an eyebrow, and after a long while, she sighed silently, nodded, and turned away.
"Let's go to my room."
The suite was draped with layers of gauze and satin, and a large red tablecloth embroidered with butterflies hung on it. A candlestick sat beneath the curtain separating the inner and outer rooms, burning in the distance. Ye Qinghua laid out two wine cups, and Hua Chongyang lifted the wine pot to pour. The aroma of the wine wafted out. Hua Chongyang handed the cup to Ye Qinghua, then picked up the one in front of him:
"Come, come, blue and white porcelain! Let's drink and be merry today!"
She tilted her head back and downed the drink in her glass, then looked back at him:
"It's too quiet here. Shall we call Ah Da, Er Er, and Xiao San over? Drinking is more lively with more people!"
Ye Qinghua, being extremely astute, carefully observed Hua Chongyang's slightly upturned lips as she held her wine cup:
"This wine is truly delicious."
But as she lowered her head and took a sip of her drink, her expression instantly turned strange:
"I've lived in Hangzhou for over thirty years, and I've never tasted this kind of wine before."
Hua Chongyang glanced at her, then poured himself a glass of wine, still with a slight smile playing on his lips.
"I've walked past the 'Half-Curtain Drunkenness' shop on the streets of Anyang for years without ever going in. I never expected to find such fine wine there."
Seeing Ye Qinghua's expression change again, she still smiled:
"Not only is the wine good, but the people are interesting too. I just went in and ran into a drunk guy, he was really funny—Qinghua, you should know him, right?"
Otherwise, why would his expression keep changing?
Ye Qinghua hesitated for a moment, put down her wine cup, and looked solemnly at Hua Chongyang:
"...That person might be the legendary physician Zu Xian."
Zu Xian?!
Hua Chongyang was also surprised.
The legendary healer Zu Xian, renowned in the martial arts world for ten years and said to be able to "kill doctors," yet rarely showing his face? Even he's come to Hangzhou to join the martial arts tournament? The deeper her doubts, the more she couldn't help but ask:
"Why is he at Banlianzui? Is he here to watch the martial arts tournament?"
Ye Qinghua avoided eye contact and spoke vaguely:
"I can't say anything more, but Chongyang, that person—I advise you to stay as far away from him as possible."
Hua Chongyang stopped drinking from his cup:
"Why?"
Ye Qinghua hesitated for a moment, then said solemnly:
"Zu Xian is skilled in using poisons and antidotes. As far as I know—and there are many rumors in the martial arts world—he has maintained close ties with the Lan Ying Palace in private over the years. This is why many people consider him the 'Evil Healer Immortal.'"
So that's how the Evil Doctor came to be; anything associated with Lan Ying Palace is mostly considered evil—like Yan Zhao, who became a universally condemned and feared demon precisely because he entered Lan Ying Palace. Hua Chongyang slowly raised his wine cup to his lips, swallowed the second cup, and slowly smiled:
"If you don't tell me, I won't ask. I just never imagined that a martial arts tournament could turn Hangzhou into a city teeming with hidden talents."
"That goes without saying," Ye Qinghua's expression returned to its usual playful tone. Leaning against the round table, she leaned forward and looked at Hua Chongyang with a smirk. "In just half a day, the name of Hua Chongyang, daughter of Hua Chuxue, has spread throughout Hangzhou. Several people have already come to me asking who you, Hua Chongyang, really are."
The dim light shone down, revealing Hua Chongyang with his back to the candlestick. His flat forehead, sharply defined chin, snow-white face, deep black eyes, and crimson lips, along with his long, arched eyebrows—it was undeniably a beautiful face, yet now it carried a hint of cold sharpness. He tilted his head back and drank another cup of wine, his elbow resting on the table. His face was lowered, but he raised an eyebrow at Ye Qinghua, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"All they really want to know is whether I am Yan Zhao's daughter."
Ye Qinghua was speechless, watching the strange and alluring beauty that appeared when the woman raised her thick eyebrows—anyone who saw this expression and demeanor would surely not doubt the relationship between Hua Chongyang and Yan Zhao. In this world, who else could possess such an expression and demeanor?
"Once famous, you're known throughout the land." Ye Qinghua sighed, "From now on, I'm afraid your days will be even harder."
As she spoke, she raised the wine pot to pour Hua Chongyang another cup of wine, but Hua Chongyang reached out and blocked the cup:
"That's enough."
Ye Qinghua put down the wine pot and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow:
"What's wrong with you today? Normally, you'd still be playing drinking games and riddles even with half a jar of food, and you could take down the sixth and seventh brothers all by yourself!"
Hua Chongyang raised his eyes and frowned:
"This liquor is too strong; I can't handle it."
"Alright, so you don't embarrass yourself later." Ye Qinghua chuckled and stood up. "Sit down and rest for a while, I'll go find you some clothes to get you dressed up."
Hua Chongyang waved his hand, climbed onto the table, closed his eyes, and all he could see was the intoxicated man in the Half-Blind Drunken Octagonal Pavilion.
She could handle half a jar of Shaoxing wine without a problem, but she was already dizzy after just three cups of this. He actually drank half a jar of such strong liquor by himself; no wonder he was so drunk—was he courting death?
According to Ye Qinghua, makeup can make men look dashing and women look young and beautiful... so it should also be able to turn a slovenly man into a celestial beauty.
Hua Chongyang had never really considered her own appearance before—even though her mother was once the most beautiful woman in the martial arts world. But in recent years, this "lack of concept" has gradually been replaced by Ye Qinghua's concept of "beauty as delicate as powder."
According to Ye Qinghua's logic, a woman cannot be considered a beauty if her face is not covered with a pound of powder.
Each time, Ye Qinghua insisted on personally applying makeup to Hua Chongyang.
A thick layer of powder was applied to her face, turning her snow-white complexion deathly pale, then a touch of rouge was added; a dark blue stylus was drawn across her brow, leaving a delicate moth-like mark amidst the thick layer of powder. Hua Chongyang, oblivious, toyed with the wine cup in her hand, then brought the rim to her lips after a long while, sniffing it. On one side of the wide, huanghuali wood couch was a carved dressing table, a two-foot-tall bronze mirror reflecting Hua Chongyang's figure as she leaned against it, one hand around her knee, the other holding a cup. She wore a bright red silk dress, her snow-white undergarment half-open, her loose hair piled up beside her ears, and her slanted, peach-blossom eyes gazing dreamily at the wine cup in her hand.
Ye Qinghua rudely lifted Hua Chongyang's chin and stuffed a piece of red paper into her mouth:
"Print."
Hua Chongyang obediently pressed his lips to hers.
"Seventh Sister is already hiding under Phoenix Terrace. When you go there in a bit, as usual, stomp your foot on the floor once, and she'll start playing the piano. Stomp your foot again, and she'll stop. Then you stand up, bow, and come down from behind the curtain."
"Hmm." Hua Chongyang responded casually, not even bothering to lift his eyelids to look at his reflection in the mirror.
"You better pay attention!" Ye Qinghua seemed to be annoyed by her nonchalant attitude. "Even if you're just pretending, I still pay you. And you take the money and you're still so irresponsible! Last time you actually fell asleep on stage! Do you think I picked up my money on the street?"
"……"
"Remember to stand up straight when you go on stage! And remember to twist your waist when you walk! I really liked your physique! Don't just stand there like a log!"
"……"
"Did you hear me? Did you hear me?!"
"Uh-huh."