Hua Chongyang couldn't help but twitch her lips, glancing back at the two people, one fat and one thin, at the wonton stall. She only remembered going there to sell fried cakes; she had no idea when she became a steamed bun seller and even joined the Beggars' Sect? So this was what they meant by "gossip is a fearsome thing"—she figured people would be discussing who her father was next.
Sure enough, the fat man swallowed a mouthful of wonton and started chattering, steer the conversation back to Hua Chongyang's father:
"...I wonder whose child Hua Chongyang is. Back then, Hua Chuxue betrayed her sect, even abandoning her father Hua Chuntang to run off with Yan Zhao. I heard that their relationship only lasted half a year before Yan Zhao left her to find a new lover. I've never heard of them having a child!"
Hua Chongyang remained silent.
It turns out that everyone in the world knows that her mother, Hua Chuxue, once eloped with that "demon" Yan Zhao...
"Exactly! Yan Zhao even castrated himself later, who knows if he could have children before! Maybe he entered Lan Ying Palace under some pretext because he couldn't have children! So it seems Hua Chongyang is definitely not Yan Zhao's child!"
"That must be Ji Chong's!" The fat man clapped his hands, beaming as if he'd found his father. "Look at Hua Chongyang, he's not good-looking at all. Back in the day, Yan Zhao was considered the most handsome and charming man in the martial arts world, otherwise why would Hua Chuxue have fallen for him? If he really is Hua Chuxue and Yan Zhao's child, how could he look like a beggar? But his figure is quite good, long and slender, quite like Ji Chong when he was young..."
The skinny man interrupted the fat man, quickly interjecting:
"Oh, not necessarily! This Hua Chongyang does resemble Yan Zhao in some ways! Look at her androgynous appearance, isn't she just like Yan Zhao later on? Perhaps Hua Chongyang's father is Yan Zhao! Hahaha--"
"Bang!"
The laughter stopped, and the bowl in the skinny man's hand was smashed to pieces, soup spilling all over the table. The skinny man's free hand was still raised in mid-air, staring dumbfounded at Hua Chongyang, who stood aside and sneered.
"Who was it that just now said that Hua Chongyang's father was Yan Zhao?"
Hua Chongyang's voice sounded quite calm, and her expression was a half-smile, exactly the same as when she had been acting like a brat with the waiter earlier. She was almost as tall as a man, and with her broad shoulders, the darkness of the night obscured any feminine features on her face, which is why she managed to intimidate both the fat and thin men.
"...Who said that? Please repeat it to me."
She repeated herself again, her expression still a forced smile. The skinny man seemed stunned; he actually spoke again, trembling:
"...Hua...Hua Chongyang's father is...is Yan..."
Before he could utter the last word, Hua Chongyang threw a punch and slammed him against the wall.
Amidst the sounds of punches and kicks, and the cries of pain and pleas for mercy, the waiter at the beef noodle stall next door shuddered and covered his eyes, unable to bear watching any longer.
These days, the truly ruthless characters always pretend to be refined… The waiter sighed, secretly relieved: Thank goodness, he only ate our noodles without paying…
Having vented his anger by beating the man, Hua Chongyang took out his purse, weighed it in his hand, and tossed the purse and its eight copper coins to the fat man as he left.
"Excuse me. Use this money for your brother's medical treatment."
...Have I offended you?
The fat man dared not refuse, nor did he dare to ask Hua Chongyang if she had said "I have offended you." He simply stood against the wall with his purse in his hand, watching her gently shake her wrist and slowly walk away.
The wind was a bit chilly, the moonlight hazy, and Hua Chongyang's back looked truly listless, lost, and...helpless. The fat man could only assume she was tired from beating people. Passersby probably knew this was a case of江湖 (jianghu, the martial arts world) seeking revenge and provocation, and no one dared to intervene. The skinny man, groaning and wincing after a good beating, reached out his hand to the fat man:
"...At least... lend me a hand..."
The skinny man, still staring blankly at Hua Chongyang's retreating figure, muttered to himself after a long while:
"...Three monkeys."
"What?! I've really had the worst luck today. Even eating wontons got me a beating... Ouch! That hurts!"
"Three monkeys," the fat man steadied himself, squatted down against the wall, his eyes still a little dazed, and whispered to the skinny man, "...Do you think the one who hit people just now was Hua Chongyang?"
The skinny man paused for a moment, then nodded hesitantly: "Perhaps..."
"Did you see it just now?" The fat man's expression suddenly became excited. "I only peeked through the light, but I got a pretty good look. That person's appearance... maybe, maybe her father really is Yan Zhao!"
"……"
"Seriously, look at those eyes, look at that figure, look at that sneer, really, tsk tsk... What are you doing? Why did you poke me? Doesn't your hand hurt?"
"...Fatty, you, you shouldn't talk nonsense anymore, this world is chaotic..."
"I'm not making this up. You just didn't see it, but I saw it clearly..."
The skinny man closed his eyes weakly and raised one hand tremblingly:
"Fatty, you, you should turn around and look, turn around and look..."
The fat man's face immediately turned half green. He instinctively knew that Hua Chongyang had definitely returned. But when he slowly turned around, he saw a tall, slender, and refined young man in a dark blue shirt, his face hidden in shadow, asking indifferently yet politely:
"My friend."
The fat man shuddered and mumbled something, then involuntarily moved closer to the corner of the wall... Could this be the girl's accomplice from earlier?
"Don't be afraid," the young man in blue stepped closer, pointing to his robes, "I simply wish to ask if you would be willing to part with that purse you're carrying?"
...Ah, it's not beating people, it's robbing people...But if I don't give it to them, they'll probably beat me up next...So, the fat man obediently handed over the purse in his arms.
The man in blue took the purse, glanced at it, stuffed it into his pocket, and politely said goodbye with a cupped hand.
"Thank you, then I'll take my leave."
"……"
...Did he say, "Thank you?"
The fat man silently watched another figure walk away.
...These days, are people who beat others and rob people all so polite?
After beating the person, Hua Chongyang realized that he had wronged the person.
From the age of five, when she became aware of things, she knew she didn't have a father. But back then, her mother, Hua Chuxue, was still alive and always told her that she had the most outstanding father in the world, the most handsome man in the world, whose smile could captivate the entire world…
The moment Hua Chongyang saw the infatuated look on her mother's face, she knew perfectly well that her mother was completely infatuated with her father, and that this infatuation was irresistible and unstoppable, until it led to the destruction of her family and her own death. Even when Hua Chuxue was six years old and seriously ill, her father called her to his side on his deathbed and said the same thing:
"Chongyang, your father is the best man in the world; after I'm gone, Chongyang, if you ever see him again, please remember to tell him for me that I never regretted being with him."
But even as she breathed her last, Hua Chuxue never revealed where Hua Chongyang was to find her father. Hua Chongyang dared not ask any further questions, so she could only follow the old monk Deyun to Shaolin Temple. After spending more than two years at Shaolin Temple as a boy, nine-year-old Hua Chongyang, even with her head shaved, could no longer hide her increasingly prominent feminine features. So Deyun sent her back to Wudang and entrusted her to Ji Chong.
From that time on, Hua Chongyang began to fight with people over the question of "who his father is".
So, the skinny girl was wronged. Her mother did indeed elope with someone and betrayed her sect and family. Then she was dumped, and after being dumped, she died of heartbreak and depression.
What's there to be angry about...?
What people say is mostly the truth.
Hua Chongyang's steps faltered, and he weakly raised his head.
Ahead lies Anyang Street, the most bustling street in Hangzhou. Turning off Anyang Street, you enter Chiyang Road, where the largest brothel in Hangzhou is located: the Qinglou.
Ye Qinghua, the owner of the brothel, is the very person Hua Chongyang is looking for tonight.
The streets of Anyang were now bustling with people, and everyone wore a joyful expression. The New Year had just passed, and the festive atmosphere was still strong. Stalls of rice cakes, sesame candy, melon seeds, broad beans, chestnut cakes, rose cakes, glutinous rice balls, children's toys like darts and sugar figurines were displayed all along the street. Hua Chongyang roused himself and joined the crowd, moving forward with the flow of people.
After squeezing through the crowd, your frustration should have mostly dissipated by now, right?
But after squeezing through the crowd, she was still standing alone on the deserted street, listening to the faint but cheerful voices in the distance behind her, and began to stare blankly again.
In the midst of a crowd, even the most lively atmosphere is just borrowing from others' excitement. Once she steps out, all she's left with is loneliness. Hua Chongyang stood quietly alone at the end of the street, a growing, unpleasant melancholy seeping into her heart.
Besides her, who else remembers that today is the anniversary of her mother's death? I wonder if her father, Yan Zhao, that prodigal son who abandoned his mother and castrated himself for another woman, that man whose mother followed him to the death, will think of his mother even a little bit today?
As night deepened, a faint crimson hue appeared in the sky, and in the blink of an eye, fine snowflakes began to fall slowly. Heaven was truly on time; the first spring snow of the year had unexpectedly fallen today. Hua Chongyang rubbed her icy arms and patted her somewhat stiff face, suddenly seized by an urge to drink. This urge was so strong that she turned around and went straight into the famous tavern at the end of the street, "Half-Curtain Drunk."
Half-drunk, half-drunk, half-rolled-up curtain half-concealing drunkenness.
On Anyang Street, there's a tavern called "Half-Curtain Drunkenness," with a thin, green bamboo curtain hanging at its entrance, the aroma of wine wafting out year-round. Opposite is a teahouse called "Half-Curtain Awakening," also with a half-curtain hanging at its entrance, the fragrance of tea filling the air. The aromas of wine and tea from both shops mingle in the street, creating a unique fragrance that draws people inside. Unfortunately, the owners of both shops seem to have eccentric personalities; they often close their shops for days on end, ignoring even those who knock on the door to buy wine, resulting in unusually quiet business.
On the ninth day after the New Year, when other shops were closing, Banlianzui opened its doors instead.
Since she had no money anyway, she decided to try her luck inside. If she was lucky, she'd get a free meal; if not, she'd be kicked out and could just complain to Ye Qinghua. With a "what the hell" attitude, Hua Chongyang entered Banlianzui, immediately feeling a wave of warmth wash over her. She sat down at a table, warming her hands while waiting for the waiter to come and serve her, but after waiting for a long time, no one appeared. She called out several times towards the counter, but still no one came.
She waited for a full quarter of an hour, having already looked through all the calligraphy and paintings hanging on the wall, her patience finally wearing thin. Hua Chongyang's temper flared, and she walked towards the small courtyard behind the shop.
3. Zu Xian
The further we went, the stranger it became.
The garden, though seemingly small, is surprisingly spacious. A long corridor is flanked by bamboo shadows, and fresh snow gradually covers the remaining snow. Occasionally, there is a soft rustling sound of snow falling, caused by bamboo poles bending under the weight of the snow and causing the accumulated snow to fall. Looking in the direction of the sound, one can see the fallen snow chunks forming a silvery line.
The surroundings were desolate.
Hua Chongyang sighed inwardly. Even her family's ancestral garden, Huajian Garden, which had always been lonely and dilapidated, didn't look this desolate. She walked and walked, deeper and deeper, until she finally saw a sizable lake, with a corridor leading all the way to the pavilion in the middle of the lake.
Hua Chongyang stopped in his tracks.
Two large red lanterns hung beneath the pavilion in the middle of the lake. The dim candlelight shone through the thin red paper, casting a hazy red glow that vaguely illuminated the person inside. She stood at a distance, watching through the increasingly thick, vast white snow curtain, as a man in a white fur coat sat in the pavilion, holding a wine cup.
As she watched, she gradually forgot that she had come to cause trouble and vandalize the shop.
There was no wind; snowflakes drifted down slowly and heavily, blanketing the lake in white, and the pavilion was also laden with snow. The garden was empty and clean, like a pale shadow, except for a warm red glow and a blurry figure on the pavilion in the center of the lake. Hua Chongyang lifted his feet, which were a little numb from the cold, and carefully walked across the winding bamboo bridge. The snow under his feet made a soft "crunch, crunch" sound, startling the person in the pavilion who seemed to be dozing.
The man, who had been nestled in the chair, slowly stood up, one hand holding a wine glass and the other behind his back, and walked slowly out of the pavilion.
Only a tall, slender man like him could make such a thick, soft fox fur coat look so good. Soft red candlelight enveloped him, his long, jet-black hair cascading loosely over the snow-white fur. Silent snowflakes landed on the man's fur collar, instantly melting into tiny droplets with his breath, shimmering under the lamplight.
A simple, tall figure wrapped in a fox fur coat stunned the swirling snow. Even Hua Chongyang, who considered himself a man of many talents, couldn't help but hold his breath.
But after a long while, the man finally lifted his face from the collar of his white fur coat, slightly raising his eyebrows, and looked at Hua Chongyang as if he were looking at him but not really.
"...Who is it?"
Hua Chongyang was slightly disappointed.
This once again proves that many people are only meant to be viewed from behind.
From afar, he seemed to possess an air of elegance, but up close, his features were utterly ordinary, especially his hoarse voice tinged with an unpleasant drunkenness. Thinking this, she cleared her throat and raised her voice:
"Are you the shop owner? Why is no one greeting customers when the shop is open?"
"...A greeting? Heh." The man chuckled softly, tilting his head as if deep in thought. After a moment, he turned back, his tone turning cold. "I have a bit of a headache today. You can go now. If you need anything, we can talk about it tomorrow—cough, cough, tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, how many tomorrows are there?" Hua Chongyang walked into the pavilion, a sneer on his face, and approached the man. "You've ruined my mood today, who will be here tomorrow—"
The conversation suddenly stopped.
She stared blankly at the pair of eyes that seemed so familiar.
The man lowered his eyes as if he were not listening, his eyes long and dark, his beautiful eyelashes drooping slightly and fluttering, revealing the deep, lake-like waves in his eyes, as if they could entangle and suffocate a person until they drown.
Where have I seen these eyes before?
The man slowly raised his eyes and glanced at Hua Chongyang, then slowly opened his long, phoenix-shaped eyes and raised his eyebrows.
Hua Chongyang took another breath.
The fingers pinched her chin so thin it looked like it would be crushed, and coupled with that breathtakingly beautiful, hazy gaze from just now, Hua Chongyang could only stare blankly as a hand gently supported her waist and softly pulled her closer, a faint scent of alcohol wafting towards him.
"...You've finally decided to come see me."
A cold hand touched her face, and Hua Chongyang shuddered. How could a man's hand be so cold? If one didn't know better, they would probably think it was ice pressed against her face. She paused, then removed the man's hand: