Volume One, Chapter 20: The Fragrant Pavilion

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At the entrance of the Fragrant Pavilion, the largest brothel in the capital city.

Fang Yang stood at the doorway with Wang Long and several guards.

He gazed up at the second-floor windowsill, where a coquettish woman fluttered a silk fan, not beckoning to passersby outside.

Fang Yang furrowed his brow slightly.

Outside, he asked Zhang Long, “Are you sure this is the finest brothel in the entire capital? Don’t try to save money by dragging us to some second-rate place.”

“Rest assured, young master,” Zhang Long replied in a low voice. “I’ve already inquired around. The Fragrant Pavilion is the top brothel in the capital. In fact, half the pleasure boats on Yongding Lake belong to it. Government officials and nobles often come here to entertain themselves.”

With a sudden snap, Fang Yang opened his folding fan, a roguish smile playing across his face. Clad in a flowing blue robe and wearing a blue silk headband, he exuded an air of careless elegance.

The young women on the second floor’s balcony immediately brightened, their eyes shining as each tried to catch Fang Yang’s gaze.

Fang Yang smiled faintly and said to Zhao Hu and the guards, “Let’s go! I’ll show you all a good time.”

With that, he strode inside.

As soon as he entered, a maid approached to greet him.

Seeing Fang Yang’s fine attire, she smiled and asked, “Young master, are you here for Miss Ping’er as well?”

“What?” Fang Yang was puzzled.

“Tonight, Miss Ping’er will perform on stage. She’s skilled in all the arts—singing, playing instruments, and dancing with exquisite grace. She captivates everyone present. Most of the gentlemen here tonight have come for her. I thought you might be as well,” the maid hurriedly explained.

“Sounds good. Since I’m here, only the best will do. Send out your courtesan queen to serve me,” Fang Yang said, folding his fan with a disdainful air.

“You’re generous, young master. We have several top courtesans, but the finest is Miss Ping’er. Most importantly, she’s still a pure courtesan, not yet bound to any patron. If you’re interested, you may have a look. But she has very high standards—becoming her favored guest depends entirely on your own ability,” the maid whispered.

Fang Yang’s eyes gleamed.

Why settle for secondhand when you can have the first?

He raised an eyebrow and said, “Fine, then it’s Miss Ping’er. I want to see what she’s really like.”

The maid smiled quietly, understanding the double entendre, and said, “Please follow me, young master.”

Fang Yang waved his hand, telling his men to find their own amusements, then followed the maid inside.

Only Zhang Long lingered, staying close behind.

“You’re coming too,” Fang Yang said, glancing at him.

“I’ll wait until you settle in,” Zhang Long muttered.

Fang Yang nodded without pressing further.

The two followed the maid to the back courtyard, winding through hallways until the surroundings grew quiet, the lively noise of the main hall fading away.

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Zhang Long instantly grew alert, wary of any tricks.

Before long, they arrived outside a small courtyard.

Above the gate hung a sign with the words “Floating Lotus Pavilion,” and a servant boy stood guard.

“Young master, to see Miss Ping’er, the entrance fee is ten taels of silver,” the maid glanced back at Fang Yang.

“A small sum,” Fang Yang said, casually tossing a silver ingot.

For him, it was trivial; for ordinary people, ten taels was a fortune, not easily earned in a few months.

The maid’s smile widened as she gratefully accepted the silver.

She quickly pushed open the gate.

Fang Yang stepped inside, where a small wooden building was brightly lit.

Upon entering, he realized the room was already quite full.

Both the main hall on the first floor and the gallery on the second floor were occupied.

“So many people?” Fang Yang exclaimed.

The maid chuckled softly, “Young master, Miss Ping’er is the courtesan queen of the Fragrant Pavilion. Everyone in the capital knows her. Moreover, she’s still a pure courtesan, not yet claimed by a patron, so naturally many come to see her.”

“Tsk, sounds promising. I’m eager to see for myself.”

Fang Yang snapped open his fan and fixed his gaze on the stage.

Yet, nobody had appeared yet.

The maid, seeing this, quietly slipped away.

“Is that you?”

As Fang Yang scanned the stage, a voice suddenly rang out sharply.

The crowd fell into hushed whispers, then all turned toward the source of the voice.

Fang Yang turned as well.

He was momentarily stunned upon seeing the speaker, then arched an eyebrow.

“Mu Ying? Didn’t expect the formerly solemn son of Duke Qian to come to a brothel.”

His words struck like thunder.

Everyone present froze in surprise, staring at Mu Ying.

Mu Ying’s face was icy and voice cold. “Brothel? I’m here because I heard Miss Ping’er is both beautiful and talented. I came to see for myself. And you—an uneducated wastrel—what are you doing here?”

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Fang Yang smiled faintly, folding his fan closed.

“First, after just one day, you don’t even recognize me as your elder brother? Second, I am indeed the capital’s greatest wastrel. Isn’t coming here just my usual pastime?”

Mu Ying sneered. “You got lucky yesterday. Do you really think you’re talented? The Duke of Cheng’s family must be ashamed to have you as a son!”

A sharp intake of breath swept through the crowd.

Tonight, there were two duke’s sons present, and judging by their hostility, this promised to be entertaining.

“Luck or not, at least you lost,” Fang Yang said calmly, unfazed.

“Hmph! A lucky win means nothing. I am the son of a noble, proud of my martial skills. If you have the guts, let’s spar outside. I’ll have you begging for mercy by night’s end!” Mu Ying snapped angrily.

Fang Yang looked at him with disdain. “Are you out of your mind? I came here to enjoy the company of courtesans, not to fight. Save your energy until after I’m done.”

Mu Ying was speechless.

At that moment, the Crown Prince, returning from a brief break, spotted Fang Yang and brightened.

“Master Fang!”

“And you are?”

Fang Yang, curious at the excitement, asked.

Chu Neng said eagerly, “At the Baihua Garden poetry gathering, I even called on you with a question!”

“Oh, Brother Chu, what a coincidence,” Fang Yang said warmly, moving to sit beside Mu Ying.

He then teased, “Brother Chu, how did you end up with such a rebellious character? Aren’t you afraid he’ll betray you one day?”

“Fang Yang!” Mu Ying frowned and warned coldly.

Fang Yang paid no mind.

The Crown Prince chuckled, “Fang, you’re wrong. Mu is actually a decent fellow. He just doesn’t know you well yet.”

“Fine, for Brother Chu’s sake, I won’t hold it against him tonight. After all, we shouldn’t ruin the mood at a brothel,” Fang Yang said.

Before he finished, someone said, “Young master, if you’re here for prostitutes, please take it outside. Miss Ping’er is no mere prostitute. Everyone here came for her talent.”

“Indeed. The son of the Duke of Cheng is notorious. I heard he recently sold off the family estate. Truly a wastrel. Seeing him now, his vulgarity is laughable.”

“Carrying a fan to pose as a scholar—he probably can’t even write his own name.”

Laughter erupted throughout the room.

After being teased for some time, Mu Ying heard others mocking Fang Yang.

He scoffed and said, “Fang Yang, stop embarrassing yourself. Miss Ping’er won’t look twice at you.”