The Drunken Scholar
After declaring your identity as a itinerant purveyor of certain protective objects, you had been ushered in through a side entrance by the staff of the brothel. They guided you through a series of winding paths through an ornate garden, leading you to a simple pavilion some distance away from the main building. An attractive lady is there, playing chess with a distinguished-looking gentleman. Upon your arrival, she whispers something to the man. He gets up, scowling at you, before leaving the pavilion.
“This had better be worth my time, peddler,” says the elegantly-dressed woman disinterestedly as she gestures for you to sit. From her looks, she cannot be older than her mid-twenties. Her face is lightly made-up, after the fashion currently popular in the capital. "I assure you it is, my lady," you say cheerfully, taking your place. "I must say, it is remarkable that someone so young is the proprietor of such a successful establishment!"
The woman laughs dismissively, not even glancing at you. "That would be my mother, Madame Xia. Unfortunately, the madame is away for business, so it falls to me to deal with the operations of Yuhua Hall in her absence. Now, let's get down to business quickly and skip the introductions. My time is rather valuable." You nod to acknowledge her wish to avoid small talk. It looks like you will have to show your product before you can even begin to ask about what you are really here for.
When you reveal Yao's Protective Sheath, the woman's eyes narrow slightly, her nose wrinkling just a bit. Otherwise, she remains impressively unruffled. "The scent is an issue I am still working on," you say apologetically, "but I can assure you that the ointment only serves a protective purpose to complement the sheath itself. The specially sewn covering, on its own, is still superior to any sheath in use today."
With no hesitation, the woman plucks the dripping sheath out of the jar and rolls it between her fingers. She nods her head - it looks like she is a connoisseur when it came to these items, able to recognise true quality when she sees it. "This is truly great workmanship. Sensitivity issues should be a thing of the past with this. I already have some ideas in mind to handle the smell, so that should be a minor problem for us. However, it does not seem like you can supply us with enough stock. You are just a wandering merchant, are you not? I do not have the habit of purchasing just one sheath. That would be pointless for Yuhua Hall. How much stock can you supply us?"
She is correct, you would not have the time to devote to full-time manufacture of these protective sheaths. You do not intend to actually make this your main livelihood. However, you did not spend a year dealing with greedy merchants without learning a thing or two about business.
"Actually..."
You reveal your plan to her. In return for a small fee to be paid whenever your sheaths are used in the brothel - and they would be the only ones available - you would provide her the recipe. On her part, the new coverings would likely increase Yuhua Hall's reputation further as the pioneer and leader of this trade. She seems rather taken with the idea. The two of you negotiate for a while on the exact percentage of your cut, before finally deciding on a rather miniscule amount. It would still be enough to support you for the rest of your life, however, unless Yuhua Hall were to burn to the ground.
“You seem rather experienced for your age,” smiles the woman thinly and reluctantly, though she is clearly getting the better deal out of this. “Very well. I believe we have come to terms. Xiaojin, go and get me Xiaoyu,” she orders. The girl bows and runs off. While awaiting her return, the woman turns her attentions back to you.
“So, what is the name of this peddler?”
“I am Xu Jing,” you reply, “and how should I address you, my lady?”
“My family name is Xia, and my first name is Xue. You may call me Miss Xia. I would not dare to be called a lady in my line of business,” says the woman, a glimmer of good humour in her eyes. You bow your head in acknowledgement. “Miss Xia it is, then.”
“Ah, our good scholar is here,” calls out Miss Xia as she looks past you. “I have a contract for you to draft, Xiaoyu.”
The smell of alcohol reaches you before the person does – as you turn around, you see a man tottering up on unsteady legs. You do not know whether he is suffering from a hangover or still drunk. Perhaps it is both. As he draws closer, you recognize his face. His grooming seems to have gone to the dogs, his eyes are badly bloodshot, and there are worry lines across his brow, but it seems to be Xiahou Yu, the young scholar you met at Luoying Manor. Gone is that elegant, quiet, and slightly snobbish demeanour that he possessed more than a year ago. Now he looks the part of a drunkard even more than Qi Liuwu does… and that is saying something.
“Huh. A contract,” he grumbles, his eyes kept to the floor. “Another one of those, I suppose. At least it’s a change from the stupid flyers you make me draw every day. I, who would have come tops in the Imperial examination, drawing flyers for a brothel. Oh, fate plays with man in the cruellest of ways. Ink? Where is my ink and brush? And paper. Come on, get to it.”
Miss Xia laughs as she bids the servants to gather what he needs. As they prepare the writing materials, she recites the terms of the contract. Xiahou Yu doesn’t seem to be listening, grasping his head and lamenting his luck, but once she is done, he sighs, grabs the brush and begins writing almost immediately. Surprisingly, his brushstrokes are strong and clear despite his current condition. The beauty of the scholar’s calligraphy is unmarred by drink.
“I have other things to see to while Xiaoyu here is finishing up the contract,” says Miss Xia as she gets up. “I will be back shortly, so please do make yourself comfortable.” She sweeps off, leaving you and the scholar behind.
He finishes faster than you expected. The way he phrased the terms are clear and concise, with no mistake as to what it entails. As you read through the contract, Xiahou Yu speaks to you.
“Of all the places to meet again, Xu Jing.”
“I’m surprised you still recognize me,” you say quietly.
“Alcohol makes you remember the strangest things. It draws a haze down over certain hollows in your mind, and brings out other memories to the fore. I suppose you are here to – no, it doesn’t matter why you are here, does it?”
“I suppose it doesn’t. How did you end up here?”
He heaves a long sigh. After a while, he reaches into his garments and brings out a roll of paper. Looking at it wistfully, he unties the string holding it, letting the paper fall open by itself. It is a painting of a beautiful lady in the midst of blooming peach blossom trees, her back half-turned as she looks over her shoulder. Even with your amateur’s grasp of art, you can understand that it is a very good painting. The artist must have put his entire heart and soul into it – you can sense the passion and longing and frustration conveyed by the painting.
The second thing you notice is the lady herself. There is a familiar red mark on the right side of her face, a single flaw on her cold, imperious beauty.
This is the person you have been – should have been – hunting.
“To be honest,” says Xiahou Yu longingly, oblivious to your expression, “I didn’t come here just because of my clan’s massacre, but also because of her. She said her hometown was in Yangzhou, and I thought I could find her here.”
“How did you meet her?” you ask, wondering just how a scholar like him could have met a murderous assassin.
“I saved her life,” he said, a sad expression on his face. “I found her near death on the outskirts of my family manor, and so I hid her and kept her safe.” His voice trails off, a wistful gaze in his eyes as he reminisces about what seems to be happier times to him. “Anyway,” he sighs, “when the manor was attacked, she rescued me, when she could have run. She fought off six men at once to save my life. Then, she left me in the middle of a forest, in darkest night, without even a word of parting. I have been seeking her ever since… Chanfeng. Liu Chanfeng.”
You suppose that is her name. “And so you came down to Yangzhou asking about her, I suppose. What did you find?”
“That she used to work here,” he shrugs. “I don’t mind. For me it is a meeting of minds, not so much the lusts of the body.”
“You are truly a generous man,” you chuckle. “Why are you still here, then, instead of going to look for her? Do you not know where she is?”
“I think I know where she may be right now,” he says bitterly, “but I am trapped here. I made the mistake of indulging slightly in drink. The entire occurrence remains hazy to me, but when I woke up they stuck me with a bill for sleeping with every girl they had on duty that night.”
You wince. On the way in you had caught a glimpse of the prices. They were exorbitant, to say the least.
“Twice,” adds Xiahou Yu.
You can’t help but whistle. That is impressive. “Poor Brother Yu. And you are stuck here working for…”
“Twenty more years,” he sighs. Then, he grabs the liquor on the table and downs it with an angry, wild expression on his face. “If only I could flee this place… Ah, the cage of the body and the cage of the heart; I cannot decide which is a more cruel prison!”
You wonder if you should try to secure his freedom – if your aim is to find this woman in black, it seems like Xiahou Yu is your best bet.
***
A. Spend all your money in freeing Xiahou Yu by buying his freedom from Yuhua Hall, if necessary.
B. Sneak into Yuhua Hall later that night and extract him.
C. Deal with this in an upfront manner; threaten to take Xiahou Yu whether they like it not not.
D. You have other things to attend to. You will gather the information by yourself.