The maids had heated the water. Xu Qian gritted his teeth and endured their small hands bathing him. As the clothes came off one by one, what was revealed to the two maids was a long, well-proportioned body, lean and muscular, radiating the charm of a strong man.
The muscle lines were fluid, full, and brimming with power—the physique granted by peak Essence Refining. His body was in the state best suited for combat, without excess flesh, yet not so bulky as to sacrifice flexibility.
When Xu Qian emerged wearing only his underpants, bare-chested, the courtesan queen—draped in gossamer silk and sitting demurely on the brocade couch—felt her gaze blur instantly, staring intently at his chest and abdominal muscles.
The maids withdrew on their own. Xu Qian pulled back the quilt embroidered with mandarin ducks and slipped beneath it. The moment he did, Fuxiang pressed herself against him, her arms looping around his neck, her soft, voluptuous body clinging to his. Her warm breath tickled his ear as she murmured in a sugared voice: "My lord."
A wave of fragrance drilled into his nostrils. Xu Qian, a man who had never visited a pleasure house, kept his expression stern and his body rigid.
The courtesan queen raised an eyebrow, then giggled: "Could it be that you've never been with a woman?"
At the thought, her whole body went soft.
*No, I did have women in my past life... I just never slept with anyone as stunning as you.* Xu Qian paused, then said, "Lady Fuxiang, have you heard of a certain divine technique?"
"What technique?"
"The Three-Second Pillow Technique. Touch the pillow, and you're instantly asleep."
"...Giggles. I don't believe you."
"Then move away from me, and I'll demonstrate."
The courtesan queen smiled and shifted back, thinking he was playing a game.
Three seconds later...
"Snore, snore."
Fuxiang pushed him: "Master Yang..."
"Snore, snore..."
Fuxiang: "???"
...
At night, Xu Qian jolted awake with a start. He let out a silent sigh, listening to the rhythmic breathing beside him, feeling the silk-smooth body pressed against his. He forced himself back to sleep through sheer willpower.
The next morning at the hour of the Rabbit, Xu Qian's internal clock woke him naturally. He felt something heavy pressing down on his body. Opening his eyes, he saw the courtesan queen sleeping soundly against him, one long, pale leg draped over his waist, her snowy arm resting on his chest.
He carefully lifted her limbs off, rose, and quickly dressed. While straightening his clothes, he realized with fury that the banknotes in his purse were gone. Inside remained only a small jade mirror, barely the size of a palm.
His first reaction was that the maids of Yingmei Pavilion had stolen the notes while he slept—not unlikely. Yang Ling was merely a scholar, albeit of relatively high social status (on paper), but what was the Bureau of Music? A government-run pleasure house, backed by the Ministry of Rites. For a mere scholar, if they stole his money and denied it, what could he do?
The Bureau of Music cared nothing for reputation. But Lady Fuxiang did—if word got out, no guest would dare visit her. Xu Qian judged that the courtesan queen was likely unaware; the maids, tempted by the banknotes, had taken them.
He cursed his carelessness and walked toward the bed, intending to wake Fuxiang. But then his gaze drifted to the mirror's surface, and his expression froze. On the once-pristine jade surface, faint shapes had appeared. He squinted: ghostly outlines of several banknotes, their lines pale as if engraved inside the mirror.
What? Xu Qian's mind produced a row of black question marks.
*How did my banknotes get inside the mirror? This is my hard-earned blood money... Spit it out, or I'll smash you to pieces.*
He gripped the jade mirror and shook it vigorously, tilting it as if to pour.
With a *clatter*, the banknotes materialized from thin air, floating gently before settling to the floor.
In the silent room, Xu Qian held the mirror and said nothing for a long time.
*So this mirror really is a treasure? Was I just supremely lucky, or did that Taoist deliberately give it to me?*
If it was the latter, what was his motive? Why would he give a treasure to me? Had he detected my inexplicable luck? *Impossible—Caiwei of the Directorate, who excels at Qi Observation, never noticed anything special about me. And the Taoist path... I know nothing about it.*
After a while, he sucked in a sharp breath, teeth stinging.
*This inexplicable gift makes me uneasy... First, let me collect the banknotes.*
He hid the jade mirror in his robe, put the banknotes in his purse, and kept them separate. Then he slipped out of the room and enjoyed breakfast under the maids' care.
"Won't you wait for my lady to wake?" a maid asked.
Usually, when a guest rose, the lady who had served him would rise as well. But this guest was peculiar—he had snuck out alone.
*No—I'm afraid she'll call me a beast worse than a beast.* Xu Qian said composedly, "I have urgent matters."
...
Hours later. The Xu residence.
Xu Xinnian and Xu Cijiu sat in the study with steaming tea at hand. Xu Pingzhi looked energetic despite his sleeplessness. Second Young Master, by contrast, appeared haggard.
Father and son said nothing, tacitly avoiding any mention of last night—as if none of them had set foot in the Bureau of Music.
The silence hung stiffly until Xu Qian's arrival broke the awkward atmosphere between the two.
"Why were you gone so long? You come back and immediately take a bath—couldn't you bathe at the Bureau of Music?" Second Uncle raised an eyebrow in complaint.
Xu Xinnian coughed, unwilling to hear more about the Bureau from his father: "Any gains?"
Second Uncle immediately stopped complaining and assumed a posture of earnest attention.
Xu Qian relayed the intelligence he had obtained from Fuxiang and laid out his plan.
"The core of the problem is: how do you kidnap the illegitimate daughter of Marquis Weiwu?" Xu Xinnian cut straight to the point. "If we can't solve that step, the plan is impossible."
Second Uncle pondered: "First, have someone watch her, then seize an opportunity. The illegitimate daughter of a marquis will have an escort when she goes out—but not too many, since she isn't the principal wife's child. We can create a disturbance and grab her."
The brothers listened. When it came to handling practical matters, Second Uncle had more experience.
"But during the day, it would be difficult to snatch someone in broad daylight without attracting the Imperial Blade Guard—and we'd only shoot ourselves in the foot. At night, with just the two of us, we can't storm a marquis's residence."
Xu Qian smiled mysteriously: "What if I could solve that problem?"
...
At the front gate of the Xu residence, Old Zhang the gatekeeper was passing through the flower garden when he found a servant collapsed among the flowers. Alarmed, he rushed over and found the man merely unconscious.
He shook the servant awake: "Why are you lying here?"
The servant looked dazed for a moment, as if trying to remember who he was and where he was. In response to Old Zhang's question, he scratched his head: "I was heating water for the young master. He was bathing inside. I only remember the young master suddenly called me into the room... and then I can't remember anything."
Old Zhang studied the servant for a moment. "How do you feel?"
"My head hurts a little."
"Does your backside hurt?"
"...No."
Old Zhang and the servant exchanged a look and both breathed a sigh of relief.
...
At the Directorate of Celestials, Song Qing—his dark circles growing worse by the day—was hunched over a desk cluttered with bottles and jars of every description.
Today he was not conducting alchemical experiments. Instead, he was writing furiously.
"Why is the fruit after grafting superior? What mysterious laws of heaven and earth are involved? If grafting truly produces better results, then grafting humans with horses would mean Great Feng no longer needs to worry about the scarcity of warhorses."
"Every soldier becomes a horse—capable of long-distance marches on their own and fighting bravely. This would enhance the combat capability of Great Feng's armies..."
He wrote with growing excitement, his entire being radiant.
At that moment, a white-robed disciple burst in, exclaiming: "Senior Brother Song, the alchemical genius Xu Qian is here, requesting an audience."
"Alchemical genius" was the affectionate title the Directorate's white-robed disciples had for Xu Qian.