Chapter 35#

Clues: Little Pei Goes South of the Yangtze (Part 3)#

Little Spring Garden was situated along the banks of the Huai River, filled day and night with music and song, and home to countless patrons who threw money around like water. The madam had navigated the pleasure quarters for decades and had seen more than her fair share of beautiful faces, yet today she nearly had her eyes pop out.

The young man who came walking through the rain was around eighteen or nineteen, dressed in a water-red robe, like a singularly exotic red lotus from the water villages. He fit the lyrics being played in the pavilion perfectly: “Face like congealed fat, eyes like dotted lacquer—this is a celestial being.”

Pei Xiting stopped beneath the eaves and smiled lightly. The madam’s old face flushed; she waved her handkerchief, bent slightly in a bow, and said with a laugh, “Sir, your face is unfamiliar. Are you a visitor from out of town?”

“I came to Ningzhou for sightseeing, and I heard that Spring Sound of Little Spring Garden is a sweet oriole. I’ve come specially to enjoy a performance,” Pei Xiting said.

The madam’s face fell. “Oh, that’s really unfortunate. Spring Sound is currently attending to an honored guest. It’s hard for him to come out. How about I assign someone else to serve you? It’s not like Little Spring Garden only has Spring Sound.”

Pei Xiting understood the rules of these establishments. “I came to your establishment precisely to hear the best voice. I know Spring Sound sets a high threshold, but I’ve come with sincerity. Madam, take a look?”

Behind him, Yuan Fang pulled a five-hundred-tael banknote from his sleeve pocket, dutifully playing the part of the young master’s attendant. “My master doesn’t intend to do anything else, just listen to some music. Is this enough?”

“Enough, enough, but… oh dear! Sir, let me give you some practical advice!” The madam stepped closer and whispered softly to Pei Xiting, who leaned down slightly to listen. “I’m not trying to swindle your money. Spring Sound really is attending to an honored guest right now—and I mean truly ‘honored.’”

A wealthy guest and an honored guest were different; the former only had money, but the latter was another matter entirely. Many guests came and went through Little Spring Garden, and the madam had seen her share of the world. Someone she’d emphasize as an “honored guest” was most likely a high-ranking official or noble.

Pei Xiting sighed, saying regretfully, “Then have I come for nothing?”

“Sir, if you truly just want to hear good music, I have another person here whose voice is no worse than Spring Sound’s,” the madam said.

Pei Xiting laughed. “Then how is it that Ningzhou only knows of Spring Sound and not this person?”

“Looks aren’t good enough,” the madam sighed, then smiled. “Out of a hundred guests who come to our garden, perhaps only one comes purely to listen to music. Most guests, when they listen, end up wanting to take off their pants, don’t they? In that case, they have to be served by someone good-looking or with some skill. Who would spend money on someone whose looks and temperament are as bland as water?”

Pei Xiting asked, “Then why does madam still keep him?”

“He’s not popular, but he’s good at needlework. The pouches he embroiders are very pretty and sell well in the house.” The madam led Pei Xiting toward a platform to the right on the first floor, pointing at a wooden stand filled with various embroidered pouches. “He only embroiders the patterns, but the fabric colors of these pouches are all his combinations. Some guests, when they see one they like, buy it and give it to the girls in the house or to their sweethearts outside. It also helps the house earn a bit of money.”

Pei Xiting picked up a water-green pouch with a water hibiscus pattern, examined it closely, and said, “The stitching is indeed fine and delicate, and the colors match well. I’ll take this… this one is good too.”

Visiting a brothel had instantly turned into buying pouches. Yuan Fang crossed his arms, watching Pei Xiting circle the wooden stand, looking like he liked this one and that one too.

The madam, however, was beaming. “If you buy them all, we won’t have any left to sell.”

“Who you sell them to is still selling. Does madam need to check the names on the silver notes?” Pei Xiting selected seven or eight and instructed, “Wrap them up. I’ll settle the bill later. Also, I’ll take him.”

“Certainly!” The madam immediately called over a waiter to pack up the young master’s purchases, then invited Pei Xiting upstairs. “Madam will take you up right away!”

The “master and servant” followed the madam upstairs. On the right side of the third floor, a man lowered the hand that had been lifting the green gauze from the pillar and turned into the room behind him.

In the room burned the scent of lotus. A sheer curtain obscured the man’s view; Spring Sound was kneeling between the guest’s legs, and faint, ambiguous sounds could be heard.

The man lowered his head and said softly, “Master, I saw someone.”

“What remarkable person is it that you have to come in and disturb my pleasure?” The guest caressed Spring Sound’s slender neck, as if stroking his own possession through a layer of skin and flesh. His voice was low and hoarse, and he asked Spring Sound with a smile, “I’ve scared Spring Sound, haven’t I?”

Spring Sound clutched the guest’s robe, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes, unable to speak, only shaking his head pitifully, letting out choked sobs.

“Pei San,” the man said.

The guest’s fingertips tightened. Spring Sound suddenly gripped the robe in his hands, his face contorting in pain. The guest released his neck, and Spring Sound collapsed weakly at the guest’s feet, covering his throat and coughing incessantly.

“Pei San,” the guest said, wiping his hands with a handkerchief. His peach-blossom eyes lifted slightly. “Is it the Pei San I know?”

“It’s Pei Xiting,” the man said. “After all, with that face, I wouldn’t mistake him.”

The guest admired Spring Sound’s pathetic state, draped the handkerchief over his face, and said gently, “Wipe yourself.”

Spring Sound quickly pressed both hands against the soiled handkerchief on his face, extended his tongue and licked it, saying docilely, “Thank you for your reward, master.”

The guest patted Spring Sound’s head, rose, and stepped out from behind the curtain. “I received word earlier that Pei San had joined the Crane Cage and was coming to Ningzhou to review documents. I didn’t expect him to investigate all the way to a brothel. Is this a mistake in the intelligence, or has Pei San been… led astray by someone?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not a bad person.” Pei Xiting sat by the table and smiled at the young man dressed in white. “Don’t kneel. Come, sit.”

The young man obediently stood up, walked to the chair in front of Pei Xiting, sat down, and said softly, “What song would you like to hear, sir?”

Pei Xiting studied the young man before him. He wasn’t exactly bad-looking; in fact, he could be considered refined. But his features were bland from the inside out, and compared to the garden’s profusion of spring colors, it was indeed easy for him to be overlooked.

Besides, this was a pleasure house. This young man clearly lacked that kind of allure.

“No rush,” Pei Xiting said. “The pouches downstairs—you embroidered them, right? What’s your name?”

“Yes, I embroidered them,” the young man said. “My humble name is ‘Oriole Muttering to Itself.’”

An oriole muttering to itself—the “oriole” before him couldn’t speak freely. The name struck Pei Xiting as carrying a hint of pathos.

“Just now downstairs, I saw a water-green pouch with a cotton rose hibiscus pattern that looked exactly like a painting called ‘Summer Lotus’ exhibited two years ago at the Yejing Gallery. It was practically a miniature version of ‘Summer Lotus.’” Pei Xiting saw the young man bite his lip and grew more certain. “According to the gallery’s records, that painting was acquired by the owner from the artist himself during a trip to Ningzhou, with no middlemen involved. How did you see it?”

Oriole Muttering to Itself whispered, “I haven’t seen it. Perhaps it was an unintentional coincidence. Many paintings look very similar.”

“Two paintings by different hands, no matter how alike at first glance, can only be alike at first glance. Each of your pouch patterns is complete, with composition and color. The lotus on that cotton rose pouch has the same shy, withdrawn posture as ‘Summer Lotus.’ And also—” Pei Xiting tapped his own fan tip, brushing it against the side of the young man’s right index and middle fingers, “the calluses here shouldn’t be from needlework, right?”

“…” Oriole Muttering to Itself’s face went pale. He bent his knees as if to kneel, but Yuan Fang was quick-witted enough to grab him by the collar and haul him back, pressing him down into the chair.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m not interested in your personal affairs, and I won’t reveal your little secret to anyone. I just want to tell you that your painting is good. Selling it for thirty taels—that’s a loss. You definitely got cheated by the boss.” Pei Xiting tapped the table. “Fang, pour tea.”

Yuan Fang picked up the teapot, poured a cup, then lifted it to Pei Xiting’s lips and forced him to drink it all.

“Hey!” Pei Xiting fell back, leaning against Yuan Fang’s waist. He quickly wiped the tea dripping down his neck with Yuan Fang’s sleeve, frowning. “Don’t get my clothes dirty.”

“If they’re dirty, wash them. If they can’t be washed clean, buy new ones. Isn’t that the young master’s motto?” Yuan Fang said.

“This one is different. This one was a gift.” Pei Xiting flicked his sleeve. “You wouldn’t understand. Go stand aside.”

Yuan Fang rolled his eyes, took his teacup, and went off to play by himself.

It was then that Oriole Muttering to Itself spoke. “At the time, I needed money urgently. Thirty taels was already a lot for me. And since I’m not a famous artist, my painting wasn’t worth much.”

“I looked at the records. Your painting eventually sold for two hundred taels.” Pei Xiting smiled. “That’s pretty valuable, isn’t it?”

Oriole Muttering to Itself was startled, then gave a shy smile.

“That boss has been running his gallery for years. If he bought your painting from you, it means he thought it could make him money. Don’t sell yourself short.” Pei Xiting said. “Have you sold any more paintings in recent years?”

Oriole Muttering to Itself shook his head. “That boss once visited our garden. I overheard him saying he did calligraphy and painting business in Yejing. I really needed money, so that night I dressed up a bit, disguised myself, and did business with him. But normally, I wouldn’t dare. One, I haven’t met another gallery owner from out of town, and two, I haven’t been in urgent need of money since, so why risk it for that kind of income?”

“Your paintings… it’s a pity,” Pei Xiting said.

Oriole Muttering to Itself gave a self-deprecating smile. “It’s fate. I accept it.”

“You’re still in your teens, why accept fate? Make me a painting. I’ll pay you market price. With the money, you can redeem your own indenture contract, leave this garden, and then the sky’s the limit. There will still be time for you to wield your brush.” Pei Xiting said.

Oriole Muttering to Itself’s lips trembled. He looked at Pei Xiting for a moment before speaking. “Sir, you don’t know. People in our line of work can’t redeem ourselves. We can only be redeemed by a customer.”

Pei Xiting said, “I’ll help you.”

Oriole Muttering to Itself shook his head. “My situation is quite special. If you help me, sir, you will offend someone powerful.”

“Powerful?” Pei Xiting raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“Third Master Bai,” Oriole Muttering to Itself said.

“Third Master Bai of Hundred Brocade Company?” Seeing Oriole Muttering to Itself nod, Pei Xiting mused. “Does the Bai family count as powerful?”

“Naturally, merchants aren’t powerful, but the Bai family is connected by marriage to the Duke of Wenguo’s manor. Even the government offices show them some leniency,” Oriole Muttering to Itself said.

It turned out that Oriole Muttering to Itself had originally been a singing performer at Six Harmonies Hall, trained from childhood, selling art but not his body. When he made his debut at fourteen to sing, Third Master Bai took a fancy to him. After being refused, Bai took the chance to rape him. At the time, Oriole Muttering to Itself struggled desperately, almost turning Third Master Bai into a eunuch. Enraged, Third Master Bai beat him half to death on the spot, redeemed his contract from Six Harmonies Hall, and resold him to Little Spring Garden.

Oriole Muttering to Itself recounted the story in a calm tone, as if narrating an ordinary past event. Finally, he smiled at Pei Xiting. “You said my painting is good, sir. I thank you. You are a rare kind-hearted person. Please do not invite trouble for my sake.”

“Speaking of trouble, I have plenty of my own. Many fleas don’t itch,” Pei Xiting said flatly. “I’m not a kind-hearted person. I just like your paintings and don’t want to see you rot in the mud. Don’t worry about anything else. Just tell me—are you willing to go with me? Here, you’re constrained but have food and clothing. Out there, the sky is vast and you’ll have to make your own way. Stop or go, the choice is yours.”

The room fell silent for a moment. Oriole Muttering to Itself knelt and kowtowed. This time, Yuan Fang didn’t stop him.

“Sir, your life-saving grace is beyond repayment. If I can leave this place, I will serve you like a beast of burden to repay your kindness,” Oriole Muttering to Itself said, voice trembling.

“I’m not helping you so you can go from being a chicken or duck to being an ox or horse. It’s for that painting. If I’d seen it a few years earlier, I would have bought it. Consider it making up for a regret.” Pei Xiting said. “If you really feel burdened, just answer one question for me, and tell me the truth… Get up.”

Oriole Muttering to Itself wiped his face, stood up, and sat properly. “Ask away, sir. If it’s something I know, I won’t hide it.”

“Is there a man in the garden named Ma Bi?” Pei Xiting said.

“There is such a person—a guard in the garden. But I haven’t seen him for the past two days,” Oriole Muttering to Itself said.

Tapping the table with his fan tip, Pei Xiting said, “Do you remember what he looks like?”

Oriole Muttering to Itself nodded. “I used to see him often, so naturally I remember.”

Pei Xiting said, “Draw it.”

Yuan Fang pulled a portrait from his bosom. “Is this him?”

The man in the portrait was about forty years old, with thick brows and an eagle nose, about five feet nine inches tall, with a sturdy build.

“No,” Oriole Muttering to Itself shook his head after a glance. “Completely different.”

Pei Xiting and Yuan Fang exchanged a look, saying nothing.

That morning, Bai Yunduan had secretly brought Third Miss Bai’s personal maid to meet Pei Xiting. Behind a screen, she recounted the situation from the evening before last when Third Miss Bai had gone missing.

At that time, Third Miss Bai had insisted on dressing as a man to go to none other than Little Spring Garden, prompted by a jade pendant delivered by a guard named Ma Bi.

According to the maid, when her young lady received the jade pendant, she was very surprised and shy. She forbade the maid from following and quickly left the house alone. The maid waited in the courtyard for half a day without seeing the young lady return. Growing anxious but not daring to raise a fuss, she hurriedly sought help from Young Master Yunduan. But soon after, the Bai family received the kidnapper’s letter.

Since ancient times, sachets and jade pendants had been tokens of affection. Third Miss Bai’s reaction upon receiving the pendant suggested she had formed a secret romance with someone—and that someone was not her fiancé. That was why she kept it hidden, even from her personal maid.

Third Miss Bai was betrothed to the fifth son of Magistrate He’s family. The Bai family valued this marriage highly. If the secret were exposed, how could they explain it to the magistrate? The maid would also suffer a miserable fate for failing in her duty and concealing the matter. Therefore, the maid hadn’t dared to inform her master and mistress. She only revealed the truth this morning after Bai Yunduan pressed her repeatedly.

“So, do you know where this Ma Bi lives?” Pei Xiting asked.

Oriole Muttering to Itself shook his head. He had a bland personality and wasn’t close to anyone in the garden, so how would he know others’ private affairs?

“But it will definitely be in the employment register,” he said. “The register is in the accounts office. If you want it, sir, I can get it for you.”

Pei Xiting was curious. “How?”

“I’ll steal it,” Oriole Muttering to Itself said seriously.

“Forget it. I don’t think you have the makings of a thief. I won’t trouble you,” Pei Xiting said. “But you must keep today’s events confidential. I’m not trying to scare you—this matter is very dangerous.”

Oriole Muttering to Itself nodded. “Rest assured, sir. I’ll follow your instructions.”

Pei Xiting asked for the location of the accounts office, then said, “Sing a song. Sing ‘Song of the Yue Boatman.’”

Oriole Muttering to Itself responded with an “Ah,” stepped back a few paces, and began to sing softly. His voice wasn’t as sweet as Spring Sound’s, nor as tender and emotive, but it was truly a clear, spring-like voice.

Yuan Fang slipped out silently. The sound of the door opening and closing was masked by the singing. When it was knocked on again, there was a slight commotion.

“Keep singing.” Pei Xiting opened his eyes, stood up, and walked to the door. He could vaguely see two people standing outside. He opened the door and suddenly found himself looking into a pair of peach-blossom eyes.

Seeing a face that was three-tenths similar to Zhao Yi’s, Pei Xiting was startled for a moment but put on a puzzled expression. “You are?”

The man said, “Half a month ago, I received a letter from my younger brother Sifan, saying he had made two good friends in Yejing—the two young masters of Deputy Minister Pei’s residence. Earlier, my attendant happened to see you, so I came to check. I didn’t expect it to really be Third Young Master Pei.”

“So it’s the Heir Apparent Zhao,” Pei Xiting clasped his hands. “Greetings, Your Highness.”

“No need for formalities outside.” Zhao Fan raised his folding fan and lightly tapped Pei Xiting’s snow-white wrist, smiling. “Although my younger brother has a good temper, he doesn’t easily befriend people. The fact that he made friends with you and even wrote to me about it means he must like you very much. In that case, I’ll consider you half a younger brother too.”

Pei Xiting appeared flattered. “I am deeply honored by Your Highness’s regard, but—”

“Ah,” Zhao Fan interrupted, “I said no formalities. In private, just call me by my courtesy name, Xingjian.”

Pei Xiting shook his head. “Even Sifan wouldn’t dare address you by your courtesy name. How could I?”

Zhao Fan looked at Pei Xiting’s constrained manner, then suddenly leaned closer. Pei Xiting was startled and stepped back half a pace, instinctively looking up at him. Beautiful brows and phoenix eyes—what a captivating sight.

“…” Zhao Fan’s breath caught, and his smile grew even more brilliant. “So, you dare to defy me?”

Pei Xiting’s lips moved as he whispered, “Xing… Xingjian.”

That voice—it must sound wonderful in bed. Zhao Fan tightened his grip on the fan handle, then straightened up, glancing at the person singing behind the screen. He teased casually, “Taken a fancy to him?”

“No,” Pei Xiting said awkwardly. “I heard Little Spring Garden has the best songs, so I came to listen for a bit. I’ll leave soon. I didn’t intend to do anything.”

“What’s there to be shy about? I’m not accusing you of anything.” Zhao Fan ribbed him. “If you like him, give it a try. I’ll pay for you. But this one isn’t pretty enough. The prettiest in Little Spring Garden is Spring Sound. I’ll call him over.”

Pei Xiting looked flustered. He turned his head away from Zhao Fan’s gaze and whispered, “I really only came to listen to music. Please… Xingjian, don’t make fun of me.”

With that, he turned and closed the door, leaning against it from inside. “I should be going back now.”

“Alright, I won’t tease you anymore.” Zhao Fan gave a short laugh, turned, and said, “Let’s go downstairs together.”

They went downstairs together. The madam was startled at the sight, then immediately smiled and greeted them. “Are you leaving, sir?”

Zhao Fan replied with an “Mm,” and said, “Spring Sound’s throat is hoarse. Don’t let him perform or go out for the next two days.”

The madam agreed at once and called over a waiter, who handed a wooden box to Pei Xiting. “Sir, these are the pouches you selected earlier. Please take a look.”

Pei Xiting took the box and opened it. “How much?”

“Put it all on my tab.” Before Pei Xiting could refuse, Zhao Fan said, “Let’s go.”

Pei Xiting could only follow and say, “Thank you.”

“A few pouches, no need for courtesy.” Zhao Fan turned to look at Pei Xiting. “Did you walk here? Let me give you a ride.”

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you. My attendant went to the restroom. I’ll wait for him here, and then we’ll head back to the inn together.” Pei Xiting gave a reserved smile. “The roads are slippery in the rain. Please go slowly, Xingjian.”

Zhao Fan didn’t insist. He replied with an “Mm,” turned, and left. His attendant held an umbrella over him until he got into the carriage.

Pei Xiting watched the carriage turn and drive away into the distance, the warmth and restraint gradually fading from his face.

None of the scumbag love interests in the original novel were decent. Shangguan Jie was brutal and irritable, Zong An was sensitive and dark, and this Zhao Fan was a sinister smiling tiger. On the surface, he seemed gentle and amiable, but the angrier he got, the more “cheerfully” he smiled. Later, when he broke “Pei Xiting’s” leg, he wore the same tender, lingering expression.

“Let’s go.” Yuan Fang emerged from the carved door and walked up behind Pei Xiting.

The two strolled through the streets until they returned to Willows Bank. You Zong had returned at some point and was hanging clothes to dry under the eaves.

“Sir,” Pei Xiting walked over, “when did you get back? Was it successful?”

“About half an incense stick ago,” You Zong said, draping a robe over the line and smoothing it out. “The fake Wang San is within sight.”

“Then I have a new task for you.” Pei Xiting took the portrait from Yuan Fang’s bosom, reversing their usual roles. “This is the man who impersonated Little Spring Garden’s guard Ma Bi the day before yesterday and abducted Third Miss Bai. I suspect the real Ma Bi has already gone missing. Here, sir… what’s wrong?”

You Zong stared at the man in the portrait, pondered for a moment, and said, “I feel like I’ve seen this man somewhere before. But it must have been a brief encounter, or I would have been able to recall his name by now.”

“Don’t rush, sir. As long as you have a memory of it, it’ll come back eventually.” Pei Xiting continued, “I have Ma Bi’s address here. Would you like to send someone to check it out? Also, regarding the jade pendant that the fake Ma Bi gave to Third Miss Bai, I drew a pattern based on the maid’s description. White mutton-fat jade of that quality is only sold at specialty shops, and those shops have sales registers. You could also have someone investigate that. Maybe we’ll find a lead.”

You Zong took the drawing from Yuan Fang. “You’re being this thorough?”

Pei Xiting declared seriously, “You can’t just ignore the fact that I’m still very diligent when handling business, just because I slack off with Chief Clerk Lu every day. Although we came to Ningzhou to catch the fake Wang San, the matter of Third Miss Bai involves the Mountain and River Scroll. It doesn’t hurt to look into it, right?”

You Zong had already learned the meaning of “slacking off” from Pei Xiting’s vocabulary. He chuckled. “Alright, I was wrong… Xifeng.”

“Coming!” The boss responded from outside and quickly walked over, smiling at You Zong. “What do you need?”

You Zong handed the two drawings to Shang Xifeng. “Look into this. As soon as possible.”

Shang Xifeng acknowledged and left.

“By the way, I ran into the Heir Apparent Zhao at Little Spring Garden today,” Pei Xiting said.

You Zong said, “The Heir Apparent Zhao has a certain reputation in certain respects. To him, someone like you is like a steaming hot bun. Be careful.”

“I know. By the way, let’s go get some wonton soup from the front. It smells delicious.” Pei Xiting gestured like a big spender. “My treat.”

Yuan Fang swallowed.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get something else to eat.” You Zong pointed toward the back door. “Go ahead, His Highness is treating.”