Jiu Yue was taken aback. "Why?"
Qiu Dongfang replied, "He's been poisoned."
Jiu Yue: "..."
Her mind flashed back to the day she saw Song Shu prying open the animal trap—the bloodstains on the metal jaws... Her expression suddenly turned odd.
"Seems Song Shu's medical skills aren't exactly refined," she mused. She had even reminded him about the possibility of poisoning.
Qiu Dongfang chuckled. "He’s not a trained physician... From what I heard, he only picked up some basics from a village doctor in the last couple of years."
"That sounds..." Jiu Yue trailed off, unable to find the right words.
Qiu Dongfang understood her meaning and explained further, "Song Shu used to be obsessed with the imperial exams. It was only recently that he suddenly abandoned his books and decided to become a doctor."
Jiu Yue: "..."
What? Did the books drive him mad?
She clicked her tongue in amusement, though she couldn’t help but admire Song Shu’s audacity. Did he really think medicine was easier than studying? How naive.
"It’s getting late. I need to catch up with that carriage," Jiu Yue said, cutting the conversation short. After exchanging a coded signal with Qiu Dongfang, she vanished into the alley.
Once she was gone, Qiu Dongfang’s expression cooled. He turned and gazed in the direction Zhu Haitang had fled.
He’d given the man a chance.
If he was foolish enough to squander it, well... Qiu Dongfang couldn’t be blamed for what came next.
Pulling up his face covering, he followed silently.
The carriage turned into the rear courtyard of the Song family estate.
Under the cover of darkness, several stout maids hauled the women inside.
The maids were well-padded, making the ride over their shoulders surprisingly comfortable—Jiu Yue almost enjoyed it.
The four women were taken to separate rooms. Peeking through slitted eyes, Jiu Yue recognized the bathtub and realized this must be a cleansing chamber. Naturally, "deliveries" like them had to be scrubbed clean before being sent to the master’s bed.
Jiu Yue couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
The maids worked with single-minded focus. Jiu Yue had planned to knock them out as before, but spotting three of them in the room made her reconsider.
Best not to stir unnecessary trouble.
And so, Jiu Yue endured the indignity of being scrubbed raw by three enthusiastic maids.
Jiu Yue: "..."
As a modern woman, she could appreciate the cultural practice of exfoliation—but she drew the line at having her backside scrubbed with equal vigor.
"Oho, this one’s quite clean," one maid remarked to her colleague. "Last time, that girl had filth caked all over her back..."
Jiu Yue, silently enduring: "..."
Thanks for the compliment, you boundary-less busybody.
Once she’d been scrubbed, perfumed, and draped in a scandalously sheer gown (which Jiu Yue refused to even glance at), the maids finally delivered her to a chamber. The moment they left, she rummaged through the room for something remotely decent to wear.
Just as she finished tying the sash, the door creaked open again. Out of professional habit, Jiu Yue instinctively hid—only to watch as the other three women were ushered in and arranged neatly on the bed.
Jiu Yue: "..."
Jiu Yue was horrified.
That fat bastard Song Lan—ugly and depraved? Delivering four women at once? Why not just ascend to the heavens while he was at it?!
She could barely look at the bed without wincing.
In the heavy silence, the other three women began to stir.
One glance at their attire, and all three shrieked, scrambling under the covers. The most timid of them burst into tears.
Before Jiu Yue could speak, the weeping girl glared at her. "Don’t even think about it! I’d rather die than entertain clients!"
The other two chimed in, "Yeah!"
Jiu Yue: "?"
Yeah what?
She wasn’t the damn madam!
Too exasperated to argue, Jiu Yue ignored their sniffling huddle and busied herself rifling through the room.
The girls seemed to realize their mistake and fell silent—until a shadow loomed outside the door.
All eyes turned as a portly man sauntered in, grinning lecherously.
"Well, well, all awake already?" Song Lan, now safely on his own turf, didn’t bother hiding his sleaziness. He locked the door behind him and approached the bed. "Let me get a closer look... Ah, such delicate little blossoms..."
The three girls shrank into the corner, trembling.
Song Lan reveled in their fear—until he noticed the fourth.
He turned toward the figure seated at the vanity, wrapped head to toe in proper clothing.
His smile soured. "Who gave you permission to dress?" he demanded, slipping into his official’s tone.
Jiu Yue, still casually searching for the ledger (unlikely to be here anyway), glanced back with barely concealed disdain. But for the sake of her cover, she forced a coy smile.
"Why, Master, I dressed like this just to catch your eye."
Song Lan studied her face, desire flickering in his gaze. "What’s your name?"
Jiu Yue answered breezily, "Zhu Haitang."
Song Lan’s memory stirred—he’d memorized the names on the indentures.
"Ah, Haitang..." He licked his lips, stepping closer. "A flower’s name for a flower-like beauty. Youth should be adorned. But you... you seem almost unfamiliar now."
Jiu Yue nearly laughed.
Unfamiliar? Of course—the real Zhu Haitang was the grimy girl he’d seen at the brothel.
Still, as Song Lan had noted, the real Zhu Haitang had been disheveled, her features barely discernible. Now, polished by the maids, Jiu Yue’s naturally refined looks had taken on a radiant glow.
Song Lan was hooked. Even if he suspected the deception, he wouldn’t let her go.
"Like these?" He gestured to the open jewelry box before her, oozing false generosity. "Tell me what you fancy, and I’ll have more sent tomorrow."
Jiu Yue played along, fluttering her lashes. "Really? Wouldn’t that trouble you?"
"So thoughtful of you!" Song Lan settled beside her, a hand creeping to her waist. "A few trinkets are nothing. If none suit you, I’ll summon the artisans from Linglong Pavilion for custom pieces."
Linglong Pavilion?
Before Jiu Yue could react, the previously weeping girl gasped.
Even from across the room, Jiu Yue caught the awed whispers about the pavilion’s prestige.
This Song Lan spares no expense when courting women.
Feigning reluctance, Jiu Yue pushed his wandering hand away and nudged the jewelry aside. "If I like something... I can have it?"
Song Lan smirked. "Naturally—if you stay with me."
With a theatrical pout, Jiu Yue rose and glanced at the terrified trio on the bed. She lowered her eyes, affecting melancholy. "But I’m not special, am I? If everyone gets the same, I don’t want any of it!"
She flounced to the door and slumped against it, arms crossed like a petulant child.
The three girls on the bed: "?"
Song Lan's eyes sparkled with even greater interest.
How intriguing.
It had been a long time since he encountered such a spirited young woman.
