Chapter 23: Onward, Second Son of the Fang Household! (Part I)

The Pingkang and Chongren Wards stand side by side, separated only by a street. Because this intersection serves as a bustling hub for both markets, the area is alive with noise and activity day and night, the glow of lanterns never fading—a spectacle unmatched by any other district in the capital.

The courtesans of Pingkang Ward are registered with the Office of Music and have received rigorous training in song, dance, poetry, and musical instruments since childhood. Their primary clientele consists of imperial officials, bureaucrats, and aristocratic scholars who delight in literary pursuits. As they are frequently summoned to serve at banquets, they possess a high degree of cultural refinement and taste, and their fame has long since spread throughout the land.

As the evening lanterns were lit, several carriages arrived in succession before the grand entrance of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion. The coachmen reined in their spirited horses, lifted the curtains, and assisted the noble passengers inside to disembark.

The youths descending from the carriages were all in their teens, uniformly dressed in brocade caps and sable furs, wearing expressions of haughty indifference.

One of them, however, did not wait for his coachman’s help. With a nimble, athletic movement, he leaped from the carriage.

His complexion was slightly dark and his build sturdy; while not exceptionally handsome, he was certainly a fine-looking young man. A faint smile played at the corners of his mouth as he looked up at the gold-lettered sign of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion, his eyes glinting with an inscrutable amusement.

Who else could it be but Fang Jun?

A young man behind him, seeing him study the signboard, walked over and laughed, "I heard that my virtuous brother displayed great might here the other day, wreaking havoc in the Drunken Immortal Pavilion and thrashing the local bully, to the point where even His Highness the Prince of Qi was forced to call a halt to his own ambitions. Your formidable reputation has long since spread across the Guanzhong region. It is a pity that I was occupied that day and missed the grand spectacle; it is truly a regret."

Fang Jun turned back to see that it was Li Zhen, the eldest son of the Duke of Ying, Li Ji. He smiled and replied, "You flatter me, brother. Truth be told, I was the one who got beaten black and blue that day. It is quite shameful, truly shameful."

Li Zhen laughed heartily. "Where is the shame in that? As the saying goes, two fists are no match for four hands. Knowing you were outnumbered yet still standing your ground with such fearlessness—that is true heroism. I have nothing but admiration for you."

Li Zhen had just reached his twentieth year. He was tall and lean, with a handsome face full of vigor. To Fang Jun, this was what a real man looked like—possessing both good looks and a masculine spirit, far superior to "sissy" types like Du He or Li You.

The Duke of Ying, Li Ji, was stationed far away in Bingzhou and rarely visited Chang'an. Li Zhen, in the prime of his youth, was one who lived life with style, riding fine horses and flaunting his status; he never feared trouble—in fact, he only feared that the trouble wasn't big enough.

Li Zhen was not speaking empty words. He genuinely admired this young Fang Jun. Although they had little contact in the past and there was a four- or five-year age gap, this encounter convinced him that this fellow was very much to his liking. He hardly seemed like a callow youth at all.

People are sometimes like this—some share a bed but dream different dreams, while others feel as if they have known each other for a lifetime upon their first meeting.

Today was Li Zhen’s birthday, and a group of local aristocratic playboys had gathered to celebrate. After drinking at the Li estate, Qu Tuquan had insisted on visiting a pleasure house. Everyone had heard of the incident at the Drunken Immortal Pavilion involving Fang Jun, so they had collectively clamored to come here to see the celebrated courtesan who had supposedly caused "Yan Hongliang to provoke with words, and Fang Yi'ai to strike in a fit of rage."

Only Fang Jun remained silent. *Damn it,* he thought, *when did I ever strike in a fit of rage over that courtesan?*

Furthermore, rumors about this affair had been rampant in the capital recently. With so many mouths, the story had twisted and turned until it lost all resemblance to the truth. There were hundreds of variations, but aside from those in high-status households who knew the details, the common folk rarely mentioned that he had also beaten up the Prince of Qi, Li You.

If the Emperor, Li Er, wasn't behind this, Fang Jun would eat his hat. That Great Emperor was truly something—to secure a marriage for his daughter, he was even willing to stomach his own son getting a beating.

As they talked, they reached the main entrance of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion.

This group, with their fine clothes and spirited horses, exuded such an aura of wealth and status that the procuress immediately led several of her girls out to greet them personally.

Upon seeing their faces—some familiar, some not—the procuress’s eyes crinkled into a smile.

What makes a pleasure house popular? Or, for that matter, what brings fame and a stream of guests to a celebrated courtesan?

One word: Promotion.

And who does the promoting? Two kinds of people: scholars and high-ranking officials.

A single good poem from a scholar could make a courtesan renowned, and a wealthy official tossing gold to earn a smile could multiply her value a hundredfold.

Facing such a group of wealthy second-generation heirs, how could the procuress not be overjoyed? Her eyes, sharpened by years in the world of pleasure, swept over the group and immediately identified Li Zhen—tall, handsome, and surrounded by the others—as the host of the day.

Though the procuress was a woman of a certain age, one could still see the traces of her former beauty. Her lingering charm was only bolstered by her worldly experience.

"Oh my, I wondered which young noble was so dashing and handsome, and it turns out to be Young Master Li! It has been quite a while since you graced the Drunken Immortal Pavilion. Could it be that my girls didn't serve you well enough?"

As she spoke these suggestive words, she pressed her soft body against Li Zhen, her chest brushing against his arm. The sensation caused Li Zhen’s heart to flutter, but compared to Fang Jun, Li Zhen was far more experienced. Far from being embarrassed, he reached out and gave her a subtle squeeze, laughing, "It’s my birthday today, and my brothers have been kind enough to come and enjoy themselves. You must bring out your best girls. Truth be told, I have a virgin here in our group; if any of your girls can help him shed his innocence, I will reward her handsomely!"

At these words, the group of troublemaking youths burst into laughter, teasing Fang Jun mercilessly.

In the past, Fang Jun would never have come to such a place—not out of fear, but because his mind had not yet opened to the pleasures of men. He had been a step behind his peers in maturity, his heart set only on martial arts, and he had truly had no interest in such matters.

That was why everyone called him "Fang the Second Fool."

The procuress was delighted at this news. Courtesans loved such "fresh" ones; not only would they waive the fees, but if the young man was satisfied, he might even offer a generous bonus. If the youth had any reputation, word would spread among her peers for a long time.

Following Li Zhen’s gaze, she looked toward the back and saw a familiar face.

He had thick brows, large eyes, and regular features. His skin was slightly dark, but under the lights of the pavilion, it radiated a healthy glow. Dressed in simple blue cloth, his sturdy, steady build lacked any hint of coarseness.

Most striking were his eyes, which glimmered with intelligence. Paired with the faint smile on his lips, he showed no embarrassment at the teasing, but rather a quiet, understated confidence.

Without handsome features, flashy clothes, or an overbearing arrogance, he stood there with an air of natural, unforced ease. His refined and elegant temperament seemed to be a part of his very being.

The procuress, who had seen thousands of men in her time, felt a flash of admiration.

A man like this must be a person of profound wisdom, one who hides his brilliance behind a mask of simplicity.

Fang Jun, noticing the procuress’s gaze, offered an apologetic smile. In his mind, he recalled how he had intentionally picked a fight with Prince Li You and trashed the pavilion last time. A prime minister's son and a prince clashing—with other nobles involved—must have caused significant damage. For the Drunken Immortal Pavilion, it must have been an unmitigated disaster.

He had expected to be unwelcome, and indeed felt quite guilty.

But as it turned out, things seemed to be the exact opposite.