The first thing that caught her eye was a room full of children.
To be precise, not all were toddlers—though they made up the majority. Among them were also a few adolescent girls, already blossoming into striking beauties. Given the local marriage customs, they were likely at the age where matchmaking discussions would begin.
Jiu Yue froze for a moment before her expression darkened.
A sudden realization struck her.
Not long ago, when she had gone to capture Feng Sheng, she had asked him who supplied him with these children.
At the time, Feng Sheng hadn’t given a clear answer, but she had distinctly caught the surname "Song."
Now, faced with this room of young girls and children, Jiu Yue immediately connected it to that single syllable—could Song Lan have had a hand in the trafficking of children to the capital’s Misty Rain Pavilion?
She took a deep breath and let out a soft, humorless laugh.
This corrupt official really had a finger in every dirty pie.
Time was short. Without hesitation, Jiu Yue tore pieces of clothing from the unconscious girls to disguise herself, then pulled out her makeup tools to paint bruises and scars onto her skin.
Last time, in Feng Sheng’s carriage, she had managed to slip by under the cover of night and the carelessness of the maids.
But now, trapped inside a room, her disguise had to be flawless.
After meticulously comparing her appearance to the others in the mirror, Jiu Yue tugged at her hair in satisfaction. Just as she lowered her hand, footsteps echoed from the hallway outside.
She was about to blend in among the girls when a woman’s voice made her reconsider.
"Oh dear, my lord, why didn’t you tell me sooner?" The woman sounded surprised, then slightly resentful. "What are we supposed to do now? Am I to raise this batch of children myself? I’m no nursemaid."
A middle-aged man’s voice responded, warm and genial. "Don’t fret, Madam Hua. I only just received the news myself…"
As they spoke, the door creaked open. The two stepped inside and quickly shut it behind them.
"What news?" the woman asked in a hushed tone, fan fluttering.
"What else could it be?" The man sighed, his gaze sweeping over the room’s occupants before he delivered the verdict. "Lord Feng has fallen."
"What?!" The woman gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. "How could this happen… Ah, the world is truly unpredictable. One moment you’re standing tall, the next you’re in the dirt."
"Precisely. So from now on, there’s no need for you to procure more children," the man said with a dismissive wave. "As for these… why not pick a few with potential to train as entertainers? The rest can be sold to a broker."
"I suppose that’s all we can do… Unless my lord wishes to take a few for yourself?" Madam Hua’s tone was suggestive.
Song Lan stroked his beard, declining politely. "I have children of my own."
The implication was clear—he had no taste for them.
"Of course, of course. I merely meant as maidservants," Madam Hua quickly amended. "But never mind. Children are clumsy—better not to risk angering you."
She was about to call for someone to deal with the room’s occupants when she noticed Song Lan’s lingering gaze on the older girls slumped against the wall.
Having dealt with him for years, Madam Hua understood immediately.
So that was his preference.
She smoothly pivoted. "My lord, I can manage the children, but these older girls… their bones are already set. They’re from poor families, likely know nothing of music or dance… They’d be difficult to train."
She sighed, feigning helplessness.
Song Lan mirrored her act, pretending to deliberate.
From her hiding spot in the rafters, Jiu Yue listened as the two exchanged hollow pleasantries for several rounds before Song Lan finally "relented."
"Very well. I’ll take them to my estate and find work for them," he said.
Madam Hua smiled in agreement. "Then I leave them in your care, my lord."
Jiu Yue: "…"
In a way, these two were absolute geniuses.
That night, four girls were loaded into a carriage bound for Song Mansion.
Jiu Yue slipped in unnoticed.
The carriage didn’t move immediately. Outside, a servant from Song Mansion waited until a lackey from Red Fragrance Pavilion emerged.
"Madam says she’s already handed their contracts to Lord Song. You may leave."
So there were contracts.
Back when she’d infiltrated Misty Rain Pavilion with Qiu Dongfang, he’d prepared forged ones.
As the carriage wheels began to turn, Jiu Yue slipped inside. She was still pondering her next move when one of the girls—leaning against the wall—stirred awake.
The girl’s eyes flew open, filled with terror. She instinctively curled into herself, shrinking back in fear.
Jiu Yue reacted instantly, clamping a hand over her mouth while the other gripped her throat.
"Don’t scream," she whispered, loosening her grip slightly. "What’s your name?"
The girl’s voice trembled. "H-Haitang… Zhu Haitang…"
"Haitang." Jiu Yue smiled. "Want to escape?"
For a split second, hope flared in Zhu Haitang’s eyes, followed by a single tear. Her voice was soft but unwavering. "Yes. I do."
"Good." Jiu Yue wiped the tear away. "Then from now on, I’m Zhu Haitang."
Realization dawned on Zhu Haitang. Before she could react, Jiu Yue added a quiet warning: "Tonight’s events stay between us."
"I—I won’t tell a soul!" Zhu Haitang swore desperately. "Or may I die a wretched death!"
Jiu Yue studied her for a moment before seizing the chance to leap from the carriage with her when it slowed at a turn.
Ahead, the road dipped into a slope, and the carriage picked up speed. The driver noticed nothing.
Zhu Haitang sobbed, kowtowing three times before scrambling away into the night.
"Didn’t take you for such a soft heart," a voice drawled from behind. Qiu Dongfang leaned against a tree, arms crossed. "If it were me, I’d have slit her throat the second she gave her name. Yet here you are, even giving her money."
Jiu Yue turned to him, nodding. "You’re right."
For an assassin, the cleanest solution was indeed to kill the poor girl. That had been Jiu Yue’s first instinct too.
If Zhu Haitang were to return, it would spell disaster.
But in that moment, something about her tears had stayed Jiu Yue’s hand…
Even if she died, she’d just be another blur of green pixels. Jiu Yue stared at her palm, lost in thought.
Qiu Dongfang frowned. "Then why didn’t you kill her?"
Jiu Yue glanced at him. "Didn’t you just answer that?"
Qiu Dongfang: "?"
She shrugged. "Who knew I was such a kind soul?"
Qiu Dongfang: "…"
"Whatever. It’s only a few days—she’s no real threat." He dropped the subject. "More importantly, Song Shu returns to Song Mansion tomorrow."
