When the steward called Huashao heard a cry, he suddenly thought of a certain lad who often appeared in the House of Red Sleeves in the 13th year of the Tianqi era. His heart tightened as he followed the source of the voice and saw that the person beside Young Master Chuzhu was none other than the wicked person who didn’t pay up after meeting one of their girls. His body stiffened and his expression turned ugly. He lamented that they hadn’t seen each other for a long time, so they might as well not meet again.
The mind and behavior of those in the service industry could never be in harmony. Though he was cursing Ning Que in his head, the smile on his face had blossomed like a flower and welcomed him without hesitation. He placed his hand to his lips and shouted at the girls in the quiet and lonely upper floor. “Girls! Young Master Ning Que is here!”
His voice stunned countless people in the building. Students who were feigning shyness or faking experience as a matter of pride were all drawn to Ning Que’s table. Situ Yilan’s mouth was open as she held her teacup. Jin Wucai could no longer maintain his calm exterior. They both marveled at the reception Ning Que received and how it seemed everyone in the House of Red Sleeves knew exactly who he was. The students looked upstairs in a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and doubt. They wondered how many girls would show up after hearing Steward Hua.
The bamboo beat and light song from the stage had unknowingly ceased, causing the building to fall into silence. There weren’t any beautiful women rushing out to meet Ning Que nor any women waving at him with a smile. There weren’t even any of the ladies sending their handmaids to check out the situation. The students who were anticipating a show were disappointed, though some finally regained a sense of balance. Just as Situ Yilan was beginning to feel bored, they heard a flurry of footsteps.
The sound was a dissonance, of beads large and small falling on a jade plate, and of rain heavy and light clattering on the Spring Breeze Pavilion. Six or seven ladies accompanied by their handmaids stepped out of the backyard amid the sounds of shaking pearls and feminine murmurs and filled the hall like a river. They approached Ning Que, all questioning his absence lately through quiet accusation, doting care, or frowning worry. All in all, it turned out to be a lively scene.
Just then, a little girl with two lovely tufts of hair stuck her head out from the lonely top floor. She was Xiaocao, Mistress Jian’s handmaid. Her dark eyes swept the crowd but she didn’t see the person she was looking for. She shouted unhappily, “Ning Que, where’s Sangsang? You’re keeping her hidden in the shop again!”
On the night the ladies of the House of Red Sleeves were preparing for the palace dance, they became so bored that they teased the fragile and sensitive Ning Que so much that he ran inside the building. Since then, a subtle change took place. Whether it was the most popular courtesan like Dewdrop and Lu ue or ordinary ones, they all treated him warmly. There were mainly three reasons for this.
Firstly, it was thanks to Ning Que’s clean and refreshing looks. He was one of the rarely seen teens in the brothel. He was articulate, adorable, and respected the ladies. Since they didn’t share that kind of relationship, they were able to have a pure and relaxed friendship. After exchanging gossip many times in the brothel, they gradually became familiar with one another. Secondly, Dewdrop pampered this teen very much due to some personal reason. This caused the other ladies to pay him more respect too.
The most important reason was naturally Mistress Jian herself. She had once expressed a certain degree of concern for this teen. It wasn’t obvious, but it was a rare display of emotion for Mistress Jian who was cold to and sometimes disgusted by men. It might not matter for Dewdrop or Lu Xue, but the other ladies were willing to treat Ning Que warmly and even sleep with him if it meant winning Mistress Jian’s favor.
But his classmates from the Academy didn’t know this or how many times he had visited the House of Red Sleeves this spring. Looking at the prosperous scene beside the wine tables and listening to the tender and beautiful sounds, they had long become dumbfounded.
Situ Yilan gradually closed her mouth and put down her cup. She couldn’t help turning to Jin Wucai, who was dressed like a man and gasped. Lu Xue, the lady who had refused her invitation twice, was seated next to Ning Que and gently feeding him melon seeds as they engaged in idle chatter. “Chu Youxian wasn’t lying. Ning Que really is a VIP in this place. This guy is given more respect than any of my pretentious cousins.”
While they were still conversing, Ning Que ended his chat with the ladies and bade them farewell with his hands folded in front of him. He lifted the beautiful Lu Xue’s hand and together they walked toward Situ Yilan’s table. He said with a smile, “Miss Situ, I present to you the beautiful Lu Xue. Please consider how hard she worked at dance practice recently and allow her to leave early for a rest.”
Situ Yilan stood up, feigning anger. “That’s between us girls. Mind your own business.” She then turned and bowed to Lu Xue. “Sister Lu Xue, I’ve been wanting to meet you. I’ve always wanted to ask you about the Middle Three Kicking method of the Hu Xuan dance. Since I’m fortunate enough to meet you here, I hope you can enlighten me.”
Lu Xue frowned. She was, in fact, somewhat tired but she knew she didn’t have the privilege of putting on airs as a popular courtesan.
Jin Wucai also stood up and used her hand to gently knock her open fan into place. She smiled. “Lu Xue, my sister Situ wants to learn the method and perform the dance as a gift for the 60th birthday of the general of Yunhui. She doesn’t have to learn it today. She just hopes you can spare some time teaching her.”
“So that’s what it is.” Lu Xue smiled. “I’ll just perform a brief dance tonight. The next time Miss Situ needs me, just inform me in advance. It doesn’t matter whether you come here or I visit your mansion. Both are convenient.”
…
…
The Hu dance had nothing to do with the Tribe of Savages in the grassland. Instead, it originated from the Yuelun Kingdom and was said to be the ritual dance of a rainforest tribal there. It was known for its quick and pleasing rhythm. There was a clear sense of contrasting beauty with the upper half of the dancers posed in the manner of a static celestial beauty scattering flowers while their lower half was rapidly trembling with moving waists, abdomens, and thighs along with the rhythm of the song.
This dance was exceedingly difficult. Down Three Kicking was relatively easy to achieve, but it was a challenge to complete Middle Three Kicking or even Up Three Kicking while keeping the upper body still. The best Hu dancer in the world was in the Chang’an city of Tang Empire, namely Lu Xue of the House of Red Sleeves.
The gentle, quiet sound of the pipe floated amid the tinkling sound of the small lutes. Under the dim light of the quiet building, the curtains opened to reveal Lu Xue dressed in a tight dance costume that revealed her abdomen. Her eyes were gentle and she kept them lowered as she crossed both her hands in front of her chest. Whether it was her eyelashes or fingertips, none trembled even the slightest. Her bare snow-like feet danced slowly along with the beat. As the sounds of the lutes became quicker, her steps became more urgent. Her tightly wrapped thighs and hips shook non-stop as if struck by lighting. Her exposed abdomen revealed a subtle beauty mark…
The dance was welcomed by thunderous applause. The hall then returned to its former lively and warm atmosphere. Situ Yilan solemnly toasted Li Xue with a cup of wine and the others chimed in with a few words. The exhausted Lu Xue gently excused herself and returned to her yard to rest.
Beautiful ladies and Hu music were the best companions for wine drinkers. There were more than 20 lively young students in the hall of the House of Red Sleeves. The wine was quickly finished. The sounds of students playing elegant book-guessing games mixed with the rattling of students throwing the dice in another game. The noisy hall was full of cheerfulness.
Tonight, Chu Youxian and Steward Hua helped Ning Que enjoyed a great triumph. He naturally became the center of the merrymaking. Whether or not they were close to him, his classmates all approached him with their wine cups and tried to get him drunk using a variety of reasons. In the beginning, they would still make him drink under the pretense of a drinking game. Soon they realized Ning Que was somewhat of a genius of such games. After he won more than ten rounds of the game, they just made him drink directly instead.
Ning Que loved drinking and savored the aftertaste of wine. He had basically never stopped drinking in all his years with Sangsang. Unfortunately, or perhaps pathetically, his tolerance for alcohol had never increased. He would basically get so drunk that he wouldn’t even have the chance to go on drunken escapades.
Ning Que was very soon completely drunk thanks to his classmates’ encouragement. He forced his half-lidded eyes wide open, wanting to fake sobriety to scare off his enemies. But his slurred words had betrayed his low alcohol tolerance. He tried to hold up his cup and look at the moon to avoid his classmates, only to find no moon hung in the sky that night. He then tried to lean against the handrail, feigning despair as he recited a poem. But he found that he couldn’t reach the handrail nor recall any poems.
He couldn’t remember poems from his past life or current life.
He didn’t know since when but the table he sat at was moved to the side of the handrail behind the hall, just close to the small pool of wet bamboos. But he was half-paralyzed, limping over the edge of the table, and had long forgotten what he was planning to do.
It was much quieter here than inside the hall. Situ Yilan sat next to him with her foot on the handrail, vacantly watching the stars and gently shaking a small pot of cold Yu Louxue wine. It was clear the noble lady’s alcohol tolerance much higher than his. With a bright luster in her eyes, she asked him,
“Ning Que, how did you meet the Princess?”
He raised his head and rubbed the space between his eyebrows. He then raised his chopsticks and continued to look for vinegar-pickled vegetables, answering casually, “We met on the road.”
“How did you meet on the road?” Situ Yilan turned, staring at him with interest.
He stuck his chopsticks into a small pastry. As he clutched his forehead, he answered in annoyance, “I picked her up on the road, so we met each other.”
Situ Yilan helplessly said, “I think your memory must be faulty. You couldn’t have picked up the Princess on the road.”
The drunk Ning Que laughed. “My memory is indeed faulty. What I picked up on the road were all precious things. I wouldn’t have picked up an idiotic block of wood. Where did I and the Princess meet? Oh, you know, I was a soldier of the City of Wei…”