Chapter 14: Is It Still Not Too Late to Explain?

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A rough, coarse fellow had been chattering incessantly on the way here, yet his introduction of Nanqu was... succinct to the point of severity.

Having reported the coarse man’s name to the gatekeeper boy—akin to a facial scan—Song Ruozhao entered the courtyard. From a distance, she saw the hall bustling with activity, just as the man had described: fine wine from grapes, drinking games, songs and dances, dancers striding boldly, their steps wearing down the threshold—only for it to be repaired again and again.

Following “Lady Qianchun” like a vine tracing a grape, she indeed found the madam of the brothel approaching—a walking jewelry box whose very ashes would surely shine with golden light.

The madam, introduced by the young servant, bowed to Song Ruozhao: “Master Song, I apologize for the poor reception. May I ask your current position?”

Uh, she couldn’t exactly say she was here to watch cockfights and dogfights.

Feigning confusion, Song Ruozhao asked, “Didn’t the coarse man mention it to you?”

The madam looked perplexed: “Did he?”

Song Ruozhao’s confusion deepened: “Such a trivial matter—I really must say it myself?”

“...” The madam was left to guess and dared not press further, smiling politely: “Lady Qianchun has an appointment tonight; once the honored guest departs, I shall introduce you.”

Their eyes met, the light within too fierce, revealing the intricacies of recent happenings in the district: Pingkang Alley appeared to conduct legitimate business on the surface but secretly imprisoned exquisite women forced into prostitution. They were covertly traded within the district, their wills crushed, making it easier to sell them to other regions, inns, and stations.

Tonight was the night for transporting a batch of these hidden beauties out of the city.

Feigning charm, Song Ruozhao said, “In that case, I’ll partake evenly—just exchange me for a Lady Miliu.”

The madam broke into a cold sweat, sensing something odd. Such hidden trade was reserved only for the most trusted patrons—how could this Song family young master know the secret name?

The woman before her seemed a monster. Suspicious yet pretending, she led Song Ruozhao to a pavilion chamber.

The madam remembered the place as dark and grim, but now candlelight brightened the room, faint sounds of noisy drinking games drifting through. Song Ruozhao spoke teasingly, laced with anger: “How can one enjoy themselves amid such clamor? Others might be fooled, but don’t you, a professional, know better?”

With that, a roguish smile gathered at her eyes. Leaning lightly against a corner, she trapped the madam beneath her arm. The old face was dazed, stunned; neck lines deepened unevenly as the soft, delicate palm tightened around her throat like grasping a cracked goose egg.

Her eyes said, “I won’t wait a moment longer. I know you have a batch of fine goods. I’m here just to sample. If you’re sensible, don’t ruin my mood.”

The madam gasped for breath, feigning surrender: “Had you said so earlier, no need for force. I... will take you now.”

Seizing the moment of confusion, she curled her lip in villainous triumph, producing three silver needles from her sleeve, their sharp glint cutting through the light as she aimed for Song Ruozhao’s slender waist...

Suddenly, the attacking wrist was firmly grasped, resisting all force. The madam’s eyes widened in fury and shock as all three needles plunged straight into her chest. Her eyelids fluttered, and she fainted on the spot.

Song Ruozhao’s gaze turned to her rescuer—a familiar young master.

Looking closer, it was actually Song Sanmei disguised as a man.

Sanmei regarded Ruozhao with disdain, a hint of contempt curling her lips: “Are you here to save yourself or to die? Follow me.”

They moved swiftly and smoothly, seamlessly entering a side room while charming the guarding servant boy. Inside, lifting the bedboard revealed a narrow, dark underground passage.

Song Ruozhao’s perception of this person deepened: “How did you come to know of this?”

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Those phoenix eyes gleamed with pride, the corners tilting up slightly: “You think I’ve wasted my time in Wannian County?”

Memories read from her gaze showed a past filled with assisting the underworld to investigate and solve cases. For days, Song Sanmei had been tracking the disappearance of young women in the city; she had infiltrated Pingkang Alley undercover, and now, launching a rescue operation, she unexpectedly met Song Ruozhao.

Lighting a tinder, the passage ahead revealed faint light. Three stone doors were embedded in the walls, each with exquisite mechanisms—though it remained unknown behind which door the girls were imprisoned. Skilled in mechanical arts, Sanmei was about to touch the nearest door when...

“Stop!”

Song Ruozhao pointed to a string of bamboo wind chimes on her finger: “These bells are linked; pulling one will trigger an alarm.”

Sanmei looked up and saw she was right but couldn’t think of a clever solution: “The ceiling is higher than both of us combined; cutting the strings might be difficult.”

“Wall-walking,” Song Ruozhao replied calmly.

“You can do that?” Sanmei smiled incredulously.

Song Ruozhao couldn’t, but Mo Yuer—the one who naturally woke from her sleep—could.

With a tearing sound, Song Ruozhao ripped open her robe embroidered with cotton trees, fabric fluttering like scattered willow fluff. Mo Yuer boldly made her entrance, swiftly wrapping the tinkling bells into dumbbells as she moved along the eaves and walls.

To save time, Mo Yuer even summoned a hundred spiders to assist.

Song Sanmei watched the spiders come and go, calculating: “This little spirit shrimp—is it possible to borrow it for my investigations in the future?”

“Given our friendship, how could I say ‘borrow’...”

With a hopeful smile, Song Ruozhao changed tack: “You’ll be hired, with wages!”

“...”

“Mo Yuer, go see which room the abducted girls are held in.”

The little shrimp transformed into a scout, squeezing through holes smaller than its head, darting in and out. Using its fiery red pincers, it gestured wildly—drawing burly men, big knives, and snoring sounds.

“What’s the shrimp saying?”

Song Ruozhao smiled faintly: “Why don’t you kowtow to it? It says the door you wanted to open is guarded by a snoring brute inside, with two large knives by his pillow.”

Almost alerting the enemy, nearly spoiling the mission, Sanmei felt cold sweat on her neck but remained defiant: “Saving a human—fine. Saving a shrimp—no way.”

The shrimp was deeply touched: Sanmei was treating it as an equal, as a person!

Song Ruozhao: “My dear big shrimp, maybe you should reread that?”

Around them, the air turned cold and still.

The stone door slowly opened. The candlelight in Song Ruozhao’s hand reflected in the girls’ bitter eyes. After years without sunlight, the room finally felt warmth.

Though the flame was faint, it was light—it was hope.

The snoring guard heard the movement outside, about to draw his blade, but saw pincers gradually blur his vision. A sudden pain at his neck, a kick of his legs—and he fainted.

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He couldn’t understand—why was he supposed to eat fire-grilled shrimp tonight, yet ended up eaten by shrimp first?

Song Ruozhao counted heads: “Who knows where Lady Miliu is?”

A weak voice answered: “...I’ve heard—she’s likely under Xiao Wu’s clutches right now.”

In an instant, the entire pavilion trembled. A sharp bird cry echoed as the madam hurried over: “Quick! Capture that troublemaker Song Ji!”

Then a miserable scream, breathless fury: “What noisy chicken is this... what foul claws are blabbering nonsense!... Ah, my dress...”

The enemy forces arrived moments later. Sanmei led the charge, scattering a dust of medicine powder that incapacitated most of the burly men. Splitting forces with Ruozhao, she said, “I’ll lead the girls out. The Prefect of Jingzhao is outside supporting me. You hold off the madam.”

The rescued girls, hearing the madam curse Song Ji and seeing him stay behind as a rear guard, their eyes filled with gratitude as if fearing his sacrifice. Kneeling in unison, they cried: “Thank you, Sixth Master Song! Forever indebted, never forgotten.”

Song Ruozhao: “...”

Is it too late for me to explain now?

“Quick! It’s almost too late! Are you here to watch me get beaten? Stop them!—”

The madam watched helplessly as the girls she once controlled flowed free like liquid gold, disappearing without trace. She cursed her lackeys as drunkards and gluttons while struggling fiercely with that noisy chicken, unwilling to part.

Like a crab grappling with a shrimp, the noisy chicken exerted all its strength. Even if the madam had three heads and six arms, it was still often grasped by the pincers.

With a claw grip, she took what she could.

Among those drunkards stood a square-faced man with sharp wits and strong limbs, standing out from the crowd. His gaze locked on Song Ruozhao, carefully appraising him.

Muttering repeatedly: “Strange, the figure and features match, but the gender’s all wrong.”

Just then, the madam wept in unbearable agony: “Noisy chicken, how dare you defile me like this...”

His senses instantly awakened: “That’s the scent—just right!”

He then rallied the troops: “Brothers, we’ve found our noble guest again! Charge!”

In one surge, the men’s spirits soared. The madam, relieved, thought these drunkards had finally come to their senses—

But in the next moment, she saw her own drunken wards raise the very large knives she had provided...

And point them at her.

Song Ruozhao: “?”

Before the fight even began, why were they turning on each other?