Chapter Eighteen: Zixuan Comes to Invite

The days of waking up naturally were actually quite short, for on the sixth day, the bothersome renovation crew began arriving one after another. The craftsmen, armed with the blueprints that had been drawn up long ago, started hammering away, making a cacophony of noise. All kinds of materials were still acquired in advance, with the payment fronted—there was simply no stopping Feng Jingzhe. There was nothing to be done; after all, now that he was wealthy, who could restrain him? Everyone knew that he and the young master of Taste of Heaven now had a daily turnover of hundreds of taels. Even the officials at the Ministry of Revenue didn’t spend money as lavishly as they did.

Sleep was utterly out of the question, so Feng Jingzhe had the craftsmen make him a reclining chair, which he placed under the shade of trees on the riverbank behind the house. The tea house attendants would bring him sunflower seeds and snacks every day, and he’d set up a little clay stove. Brewing tea, basking in the sun—a day would pass swiftly. As for meals, they were all handled by delivery; whatever he fancied, the fellows selling lamb soup in the eastern market would bring it right over. Feng Jingzhe had turned himself into the very picture of a reclusive homebody.

Every day, many young wives came to the riverbank with wooden buckets to wash clothes, followed by children who would gather in groups, playing and laughing together. Spotting the snacks on the small table by the recliner, these clever little ones loved to gather around Feng Jingzhe. He didn’t mind them; after all, he was just passing the time. When he was in the mood, he’d tell them stories, and before long, he’d become a sort of king among the children.

The adults all knew that this young man was the young master from the grand Feng residence nearby. At first, they had scolded him, fearing his poor character would be a bad influence, but their children’s cravings got the better of them—and since he never did anything untoward, they quietly acquiesced.

That day, a dozen bare-bottomed children had gathered around the recliner again. The two youngest squatted by the low table, carefully shelling sunflower seeds. Each had a little pile, but no matter how tempted they were, none dared to reach out and eat them. The slightly older ones were busy fanning the little stove, keeping the water boiling.

Their eagerness was because Feng Jingzhe was going to tell them the story of "The Three Battles with the White Bone Demon" today. The big brother was too bad—he had stopped at the most exciting part yesterday, leaving them tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep. Now, since it was still early and big brother would sleep for at least another half-hour, some clever ones deliberately made noises to wake him. After all, the lure of that mischievous monkey was irresistible to them.

Just then, a graceful figure appeared in the distance—a girl of fourteen or fifteen, dressed in an elegant maid’s dress, her hair styled in twin buns, and carrying a small food box. Her steps were light but her face showed a trace of impatience. She hurried along, glancing about as if searching for someone.

The women washing clothes couldn’t help but steal glances at her; this stretch of riverbank was hardly a scenic spot, so the sudden arrival of such a pretty maid was quite a sight. If she was looking for someone, it could only be the young man lounging under the banyan tree. Sure enough, as she drew nearer, she quickly spotted Feng Jingzhe, surrounded by children. She hesitated, then took out a handkerchief to wipe the fine sweat from her brow, adjusted her breathing, and walked forward with measured steps.

"Young Master Feng, so here you are. I’ve been searching everywhere for you," she said as she set the food box on the low table, squashing the little piles of painstakingly shelled seeds.

The children, seeing how finely dressed and pretty she was, blushed red and dared not speak. Feng Jingzhe cracked open his sleepy eyes and saw a charming young girl puffing her cheeks in mock annoyance. She introduced herself as Xiaowu’er. It took him a moment to recall her from his memories.

"Ah, aren’t you the little maid who serves Miss Zixuan at the Red Sleeves Pavilion? What brings you here?"

"Hmph! Young Master Feng, you’re quick to forget, aren’t you? I suppose you’ve already forgotten my young lady entirely. Yet you specially asked me to bring you cakes—these were made by my mistress herself..."

Feng Jingzhe was a little bemused by her thinly veiled reproach. To be honest, after so many days since crossing over, he’d truly forgotten about that so-called Zixuan or Lvxuan. "Miss Zixuan made cakes for me herself? Ha, just as I woke up hungry..."

He took the food box and opened it to find a dozen neatly arranged cakes. They smelled delightful. Without ceremony, he took one and was about to eat it when he noticed several little gluttons staring at him with longing eyes. So, instead of taking a bite, he handed it to a snot-nosed kid.

"Here, eat up. I’m afraid there’ll be no story today—consider this compensation."

Hearing that there would be no "Three Battles with the White Bone Demon" today, the children’s faces immediately fell. But after eating the cakes, they ran off happily to play elsewhere. The children were pleased, but Xiaowu’er’s face was full of grievance. She had carried the box all this way, only for him to give it all away without tasting a bite.

"Young Master Feng, you’re so heartless. My mistress thinks of you every day, and today she worked so hard to make these cakes, but you didn’t even try one. Truly, you are the most fickle and unfeeling of men. Now that you have a marriage granted by His Majesty, you mean to sever ties with my mistress, don’t you? If that’s the case, you needn’t go out of your way to humiliate her. Just say the word, and at most, my mistress will be heartbroken for three or five years..."

The more Xiaowu’er spoke, the angrier she grew, and soon her eyes brimmed with tears. Feng Jingzhe was at a loss. He thought to himself, "Indeed, the words of a courtesan can kill with lies." If he remembered correctly, the previous owner of this body had spent two hundred taels of silver and hadn’t even held her hand. Moreover, that so-called Miss Zixuan had barely acknowledged him, and when he tried to force the issue, she’d thrown him out. Since it was so humiliating, his predecessor could only swallow the insult and keep quiet.

Now, this girl was claiming that Zixuan had made cakes for him herself—whoever believed that would be a fool.

"Miss Wu’er, you misunderstand. How could I not know the depth of Miss Zixuan’s feelings? I think of the night we drank together constantly."

"Damn it," he cursed inwardly, "two hundred taels and I didn’t even get to hold her hand. She took the money and did nothing. Where’s the justice in that...?"

No matter what she wanted today, he was determined to get his money’s worth back—with interest.

Xiaowu’er ground her teeth in frustration as he brought up the events of that night, when he’d acted like a lustful ghost. But for the sake of helping her mistress win the title of Queen of the Courtesans, she forced herself to endure and spoke sweetly.

"My mistress bade me tell you, Young Master, that she misses you dearly. She invites you to the Red Sleeves Pavilion on the second day of the second month for a pleasant gathering."

"The second day of the second month? Is there something special about that date?" Feng Jingzhe genuinely had no idea. He thought, "Maybe it’s the day her monthly visitor arrives—another perfect excuse to wring more money from me?"

Xiaowu’er rolled her eyes, her youthful inexperience showing—clearly, she still needed more practice at this game.

"Young Master Feng, do you truly not know? The second day of the second month is the day of the Chang’an Courtesan Competition. All the city’s courtesans will perform, and the winner will be crowned Queen of the Courtesans based on the number of votes..."