Chapter Fifty-Two: The Bewitching Beauty of a Hundred Transformations

Where in Chang’an should one rein in one’s horse? As a guest in the Courtesan’s Pavilion. Zhou Hao sat astride a fine steed, calling friends to his side as he swaggered out of the Celestial Pavilion. In three days, the fabled beauty Ye Lai would mark her eighteenth birthday, the night when her smile could topple a city, another could bring a kingdom to its knees.

As a frequent visitor to the pleasure quarters of Chang’an, Zhou Hao had been utterly bewitched the moment he first laid eyes on Ye Lai. Time after time, he squandered fortunes—tens of thousands of coins—just to drink a little wine, listen to some music, recite poetry, and admire the moon with her. Never once did he so much as touch her hand.

This year’s birthday was his golden opportunity to finally savor her allure. Zhou Hao glanced back at the Celestial Pavilion, unable to contain his self-satisfaction, and recited, “The spring breeze knows me not—how did it slip into my silken chamber?”

He had reserved the entire Celestial Pavilion for the evening. The central table in the hall was piled high with pearls, coral, jade, and crystal—worth no less than several hundred thousand coins.

He was entertained by He Huaizhi on the pipa, Ji Haihai on the flute, Yang Xing’er on the zither, and Liu Yiyi as the dancer—all renowned artists of Chang’an. Around him, his companions embraced beauties, cups clinked and laughter rang—what a lively scene!

Ye Lai, resplendent with just a touch of powder, wore men’s attire, which only heightened her enchanting charm—she stood out among the other beauties in the room. Sitting shoulder to shoulder with Zhou Hao, she spoke in a soft, gentle voice, leaving his mind adrift in clouds and mist.

When Liu Yiyi’s dance reached its dreamlike crescendo, Ye Lai rose to join her. The two whirled like butterflies among the flowers, captivating the audience, who cheered and applauded in delight.

Upstairs, Lu Liaoliao watched from her room, a pang of envy twisting in her chest. “Is this really necessary? All this for the birthday of a courtesan? They’ve spent nearly a million coins—these fools must have nowhere else to throw their wealth.”

“After tonight, Ye Lai’s price will soar even higher. Can you afford such a woman?” Lu Jiu said with a sneer.

“Ye Lai is nothing in front of me—just a pretty little woman named Gu Xihua,” Lu Liaoliao retorted, but her bravado masked a growing unease.

Suddenly, the door to the hall below was pounded violently.

“Don’t make a fuss—the real show is about to begin!” Lu Jiu watched the hall in excitement.

“I’ll go take a look,” Lu Liaoliao said, unable to relax.

“If you disrupt this good play, don’t think I’ll forgive you!” Lu Jiu glared fiercely at her.

“Wang Liuli! If anything happens to Xihua, you’ll answer to me!” Lu Liaoliao shot back.

As they glared daggers at each other, chaos erupted downstairs.

The door to the hall was smashed in, and a gang of fierce-looking men stormed in, led by a young nobleman in purple. He cast an arrogant glance about, then fixed his gaze on Zhou Hao.

“So, Zhou Hao, you dare throw Ye Lai’s birthday banquet without inviting me!”

At the sight of him, the room fell silent. Even the musicians and dancers stopped, casting fearful glances at the young man in purple.

Zhou Hao, his pride wounded, replied coldly, “Wang Zhun, we’re not such close friends.”

“Oh? Not close, are we? If you don’t have Ye Lai drink three cups with me and spend the night by my side, I’ll smash your birthday feast to pieces!” Wang Zhun sneered.

Frightened, Ye Lai clung to Zhou Hao, tears shimmering in her eyes. Zhou Hao, blood boiling, no longer cared about Wang Zhun’s notorious reputation.

“Come at me if you dare!” he shouted, lunging at Wang Zhun. The two men grappled, and soon their friends piled in, turning the hall into a brawl of flying fists and chaos.

Zhou Hao, skilled in martial arts since childhood and no stranger to a fight, quickly beat Wang Zhun black and blue.

“Zhou Hao, you’ll pay for this!” Wang Zhun spat, fleeing with his cronies.

Wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, Zhou Hao stood dazed amid the wreckage, then burst into foolish laughter.

His friend Duan Chengshi grabbed him, “You’ve crossed that mad dog Wang Zhun—run, now!” With that, he hauled Zhou Hao out the door.

Lu Liaoliao, stunned by the chaos, noticed Ye Lai—Gu Xihua—shoot her a secret, flirtatious smile. Shivering, she cursed the vixen under her breath and turned to Lu Jiu.

“Who is this Wang Zhun, and why is everyone so afraid of him?”

“He’s the Emperor’s favorite, son of the Imperial Censor, Wang Hong—who also holds more than twenty posts, including Minister of the Capital,” Lu Jiu replied with a sly smile.

“Will Xihua be in danger?” Lu Liaoliao asked, worried.

“That depends on your abilities—and Ye Lai’s,” Lu Jiu answered, eyes glittering like a fox.

Lu Liaoliao rolled her eyes at him.

“Do you know who is the greatest moneymaker in all of Tang?” Lu Jiu, in high spirits, asked.

“You’re not going to say it’s your so-called God of Wealth father, are you?” Lu Liaoliao scoffed.

“Of the three people I admire most, that fat old man doesn’t even make the list,” Lu Jiu chuckled.

“First, I admire Prime Minister Li Linfu. He respects merchants, keeps taxes low, and opens trade routes. Whether Tang people or foreign merchants, all are treated equally. He attracts wealth from the farthest reaches of the world. He also promotes talent regardless of background, and most importantly, he established rules even he must follow.

“Second, I admire Wang Hong, the Imperial Censor and Minister of Revenue. Since he took office, the treasury has always been full. Even after ensuring the Empire’s coffers are secure, he can still provide the palace with a hundred billion coins a year for the Emperor’s indulgence—that’s impressive.

“Third is the sage who once advised my father—just a few days of guidance turned him into the God of Wealth.

“As for the fourth…” Lu Jiu trailed off.

“I thought you only admired three people. Who’s the fourth?” Lu Liaoliao asked curiously.

“The fourth is you, Lu Liaoliao,” Lu Jiu said with a smile.

“Me?” Lu Liaoliao pointed to herself in disbelief. “My entire fortune doesn’t add up to two hundred copper coins! Are you mocking me?”

Lu Jiu shook his head slowly. “If a man’s purse isn’t full, how can his spirit be? Who taught your shrew of a wife to be so stingy?”

Lu Liaoliao suddenly felt a kinship with him, but wondered if Tang Xiaoqi had been influenced by that princess at the Jade Truth Convent.

She sighed. “Stop making fun of me.”

“I’m not mocking you. To turn paddy fields into cash—how can I not admire that?” Lu Jiu laughed.

“Wang Liuli, you’re always finding new ways to tease me!” Lu Liaoliao pretended to be angry, chasing Lu Jiu around the room.

Qing’er, who had come to change the tea, glared at her mistress—Lu Liaoliao had called him Wang Liuli more than a dozen times, yet the Young Master never seemed to mind. Was he deaf, or just pretending?

On a crisp, clear autumn day, Gu Xihua, dressed simply in blue and green like an ordinary housewife, brought Lu Liaoliao to the estate she had purchased.

A group of children swarmed around, calling her “Big Sister” with delight. Gu Xihua’s happy laughter seemed to radiate a holy light, mesmerizing Lu Liaoliao.

“So, you’re the man Big Sister has chosen?” a boy of eleven or twelve, dressed in a scholar’s robe and clutching a book, eyed Lu Liaoliao with disdain.

Lu Liaoliao looked down at him. “What, not convinced?”

“With your character? You’re not worthy of Big Sister,” the boy declared with certainty.

“Oh? I’m not worthy—are you?” Lu Liaoliao teased him.

“Of course! When I grow up and pass the imperial exams, I’ll marry Big Sister and care for her all my life,” the boy vowed earnestly.

“So you dare vie with me for my wife? State your name!” Lu Liaoliao said, straight-faced.

“My name is Zheng Hui, remember it! In a few years, my name will be on the honor roll!” the boy replied, undaunted.

Lu Liaoliao was about to retort when he was rapped on the head.

“A grown man, squabbling with a child—how impressive,” Gu Xihua scolded, tidying his clothes.

The boy’s eyes filled with tears. “Big Sister, wait a few more years for me, don’t let this guy fool you!”

Gu Xihua laughed. “Alright, little Zheng Hui, I’ll wait for you.”

When the boy was gone, Lu Liaoliao put his arm around Xihua, asking affectionately, “What made you decide to take in so many orphans?”

“Because I became an orphan at twelve—I know how hard it is. Whenever I see an orphan, I can’t help but take them in. Little Zheng Hui was kidnapped by beggars, but I rescued him. He’s clever beyond his years—a real scholar in the making. If you have time, teach him.”

Gu Xihua spoke calmly.

“Of course,” Lu Liaoliao agreed readily.

They spent some time working in the fields with the children—pulling weeds, piling up earth. Lu Liaoliao felt lighter than ever, as though his soul had been cleansed.

In the hayloft behind the manor, he gazed at the flushed, sweat-dappled face beside him, her beauty dazzling. Tenderly, he licked the fine droplets of sweat from her skin.

“You’re such a bewitching vixen—what made you choose this place?”

“I love the openness and freedom here—it makes me feel like I could fly. The scent of new-mown hay is intoxicating. Weren’t you especially excited just now?” Her eyes glimmered with desire.

“Will you really never come home with me?” Lu Liaoliao held her tightly.

“No. I don’t want to live like Tang Xiaoqi—a bird in a cage. I love my freedom,” Gu Xihua refused him without hesitation.

Lu Liaoliao couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

“Do you want to go again?” Gu Xihua’s eyes shimmered with spring, her delicate hand slipping around his waist.

Lu Liaoliao bit hungrily at her rosy lips.