Blazing Ruge

　　Ruge, as pure and lively as a flame, is the heiress to Blazing Mountain Manor. A long-buried secret from nineteen years ago drags her into a whirlpool of turmoil. Three men are destined to appear in Ruge’s life: the aloof and enigmatic Feng, the calm and gentle Yu, and the peerlessly charming Xue…Scene after scene of love and hatred, intertwined to the very core, begins to unfold in a heart-pounding drama...

Part One Chapter 1 Luoyang. Pinhua Pavilion. Madam Hua curled her slender fingers into a delicate gesture, plucked a string of crystal-clear grapes, and said leisurely to the five young maids before her: “Why do you want to join our Pinhua Pavilion?” The delicate young girl Xiang’er knelt with a thud, her tear-filled eyes pleading, “My mother suddenly fell ill the day before yesterday and passed away… Our family is poor and has no money for her funeral… Please, take me in. I’ll do anything… As long as I can bury my mother, I’ll do whatever you ask!” Madam Hua glanced around and saw that the other three young girls all had tears in their eyes and looked utterly desolate; she assumed they had all been driven by dire circumstances to consider selling themselves to the Flower Pavilion. However, among them was a little girl in a red dress who was staring at her with wide, bright eyes, smiling sweetly. She found this odd. The little girl looked fair-skinned and plump, as if she’d never known hardship; she was as pure and innocent as a wildflower by a stream, quite unlike the maids and servants she’d encountered before. “Speak,” said Aunt Hua, pointing her delicate finger at the girl in red. The little girl in red smiled like a blooming flower and cheerfully replied: “It is because I admire it.” “Admire it?!” “Yes! The Flower Pavilion is hailed as the finest in the land, with a reputation unmatched by any other. Any successful business must have its merits, so I have traveled thousands of miles to come here, hoping you will accept me as a member!” “Ahem!” Madam Hua nearly choked on a grape; she clutched her chest and began to cough. The young maid in red hurried to her side, gently patting her back with just the right amount of pressure, and laughed brightly, “Now that I’ve met you, Madam, I understand why the Flower Appreciation Pavilion is renowned throughout the land.” Aunt Hua froze. “Why?” “You possess such elegant grace—beautiful yet unpretentious, dignified yet not stiff. With someone like you running the Flower Appreciation Pavilion, it’s impossible for it not to succeed.” Aunt Hua couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m just here to manage the maids and servants; I’m not the one in charge.” The young girl in red exclaimed in astonishment, ““No way! If even someone of your stature is willing to work here, it proves that Pinhua Lou truly harbors hidden talents and should not be underestimated!” Aunt Hua waved her hand and laughed, “You little girl, you really have a way with words. All right, all right, I’ll take you on… Bi’er, go give her a tael of silver.” The maid Bi’er bowed and withdrew. “By the way, what’s your name…?” The young girl in red beamed, “My name is Ruge.” “Ruge?” Aunt Hua mused. “From now on, you’ll be called Ruge’er here.” “Thank you, Auntie! But…” Ruge glanced at the other four girls, hesitating to speak. “Go ahead.” “Madam, are you only taking me? Those girls look like they really need this job too.” Xiang’er, kneeling on the ground, wept bitterly, her pitiful expression making Ruge feel a pang of guilt. “Pinhua Pavilion is a place for guests to enjoy themselves,” Madam Hua said coldly. “If the girls spend all day with long faces, crying and wailing, what kind of impression would that make?” Ruge gave Xiang’er a meaningful glance and smiled. “Madam, Sister Xiang’er is only in such a terrible mood because she’s just lost her mother. She’ll cheer up in a few days once her mother is laid to rest. Besides, Sister Xiang’er is both beautiful and kind-hearted; she’ll surely be a great help to you, Madam. Won’t she, Sister Xiang’er?” Xiang’er had been selling herself at the market for several days to raise money for her mother’s funeral, but had found no buyer. Seeing that her mother’s funeral arrangements could not be delayed any longer, and with joining the Flower Pavilion as a maid as her only remaining option, she had no time to think twice. She replied repeatedly, “Yes! Yes!” Aunt Hua raised an eyebrow and glanced sideways at Ruge, who had her hands clasped together in a pleading gesture. This little girl is quite interesting! Luoyang’s Pin Hua Lou. The finest establishment under heaven. The wine at Pin Hua Lou is superb—from the finest vintages enjoyed by imperial relatives and nobles to obscure local brews from the countryside and mountains. Whatever you wish to taste, we guarantee you’ll drink until you’re tipsy and light as a feather, feeling like a god. The cuisine at the Flower Tasting Pavilion is superb. Whether it’s delicacies from land and sea or simple home-style dishes, everything is so delicious you’ll want to swallow your own tongue. But what draws people to the Flower Tasting Pavilion most of all is its people. Beautiful women. Beauties who will captivate your soul and melt your bones. There are beauties with a seductive charm that runs deep, those with an elegant and noble grace, those who are pure and bashful, those who are innocent and straightforward, and even the currently trendy wild and uninhibited types. In short, as long as you come to Pin Hua Lou, there’s sure to be one that suits you! If you’re not satisfied, we’ll refund or exchange until you are! Hehe,Please don’t misunderstand—Pinhua Lou is not your typical brothel. It is— Let’s put it this way: it’s an agency. All the girls who register here come and go as they please; they’re free to set their own rates, choose their clients, pick their hours, and decide on the specifics of their “services.” Of course, Pinhua Lou needs to turn a profit, so each girl pays a monthly fee to the establishment. (This fee isn’t high—that’s how they attract more “high-quality” beauties. ) So, how does the Flower Tasting Pavilion rake in all that gold and silver? That’s right! Food and drink. No guest who comes here just sits around watching the girls. Who wouldn’t order a few dishes and a pot of wine? How else could one win the heart of a beloved beauty without appearing generous and lavish in her presence? Everyone knows that the profit margins on food and drink are the highest. Ruge deeply admired whoever had conceived of Pin Hua Lou’s money-making scheme. Unfortunately, the identity of the establishment’s mastermind remained a mystery; she had never had the chance to meet him. What a pity, what a pity. Ruge shook her head in regret as she walked toward Fengge Pavilion, carrying a bowl of rock sugar bird’s nest soup. Suddenly, a slender, delicate figure appeared before her. Ruge looked up and exclaimed with delight, “Sister Xiang’er, it’s you! How have you been these past few days?” Xiang’er smiled gently, her expression filled with inexpressible gratitude. “My mother has been laid to rest. The funeral was conducted with great dignity.” “That’s wonderful! Now you can finally rest easy, Sister!” “Little Ruge, thank you,” Xiang’er said, looking at her. “But are you sure it’s all right for me to borrow all the silver you earned from selling yourself? I…” Ruge waved her hands hurriedly. “It’s fine, it’s fine! Sister, please use it without worry! I don’t need that silver, and I have no use for it. If you feel it’s not enough, I can give you some more…” “No need. Once my mother’s funeral arrangements are settled, I won’t have any use for money either,” Xiang’er said solemnly. “Little sister, I will definitely pay you back.” Ruge wanted to tell her there was no need to repay it, but upon reflection, she knew that Xiang’er—gentle on the outside but strong-willed within—wouldn’t accept her kindness just yet. So she simply smiled and changed the subject. “Sister Xiang’er, did Aunt Hua assign you to serve Miss Fenghuang?” Ruge asked curiously. “I’ve heard Miss Fenghuang has a rather haughty temperament. Will you have a hard time with her?” Xiang’er lowered her head and remained silent for a long moment. Ruge stared at her, and slowly, her brows furrowed. She set down the tray she was holding, stepped closer to Xiang'er, and examined her neck closely. She gasped in shock and exclaimed, “How did you get a wound on your neck?! It looks like someone scratched it with their fingernails!” Xiang'er hurriedly covered the wound with her hand, her eyes filled with sorrow. “No, I just accidentally scratched myself.” “You’re lying,” Ruge pouted. “Why would you lie to me? Aren’t we best friends?” “I…” Ruge patted her shoulder. “Remember to tell me if anything’s wrong. Even though I’m just a little girl, it’s always good to have someone to bounce ideas off of.” Xiang’er was on the verge of tears. After a long silence, she finally nodded gently. The Wind Pavilion. Outside the window, the spring day was warm, and the willows were green. Inside, a beauty as fair as jade sat before a mirror, combing her hair. Ruge selected a simple, sapphire-blue hairpin from a jewelry box and tucked it diagonally into Feng Xixi’s cloud-like bun. Paired with her pale blue, flowing gauze dress, she looked as elegant and ethereal as a fairy untouched by the mundane world. Feng Xixi examined herself from every angle with satisfaction, beaming with delight. “Ruge’er, you have such skill! You’ve made me look so beautiful! Lately, the guests have all been saying I seem like a different person—seven or eight times more beautiful than before!” “Miss, you’re just joking,” Ruge said with a smile. “You were always a beauty. It’s only natural that you’re growing more beautiful—what does that have to do with me?” “Pfft, you little minx, your sweet talk could kill a man!” Feng Xixi couldn’t contain her delight, casting a flirtatious glance her way. Ruge lifted the jade bowl and said, “Miss, have some rock sugar bird’s nest soup. It’s good for your complexion.” Feng Xixi took it, hesitating slightly. “But… won’t it make me gain weight? All the other girls are so slender and willowy; I seem a bit too full-figured.” Ruge’s eyes widened in surprise. “You call this full-figured?” She shook her head in disagreement. “I think your figure is just right—not too thin, not too full. “It’s true that some of the girls in the brothel are very, very slender—like Miss Youlan—but don’t you think she looks sallow and dull because she’s too thin? No matter how much powder she applies, she just can’t look radiant. It’s not attractive at all. If you’re in better shape, your complexion will be much healthier, and you’ll be far more beautiful! Besides, only when you’re healthy can you truly enjoy a life of comfort!” Feng Xixi listened to her words, and a sudden warmth spread through her chest. Her heart, which had grown somewhat numb after several years in the trade, was warmed and moved by this genuine concern. She quietly finished her rock sugar and bird’s nest soup, then looked up and smiled at Ruge: “I must thank Aunt Hua when I get the chance.” “For sending me such a thoughtful young maid.” She took Ruge’s hand, her smile as radiant as peach blossoms in the spring breeze. “I like you very much, Ruge’er.” Ruge blinked and smiled softly. “Miss, I like you very much too. You’re so kind and warm to me. It’s my good fortune to be by your side.” Willow branches danced in the breeze. Feng Xixi leaned against the carved wooden window, holding Ruge’s hand, not letting go for a long time. She gazed intently at this young maid who had suddenly come into her life, lost in thought. Finally, she whispered: “Ruge’er, do you know? I don’t want to spend my whole life as a courtesan.” Ruge nodded. Feng Xixi squeezed her hand even tighter and said, ““So, will you help me?” Feng Xixi looked out at the azure sky beyond the window: “Help me make it into the top three on the Pinhua Lou rankings!” The main hall of Pinhua Lou. Hanging high in the most prominent spot was a massive, solid-gold ranking board. Its dazzling golden glow drew every entering guest to stop and gaze upward. This was the Flower Pavilion’s Ranking of Exquisite Beauties. From top to bottom, it listed the rankings of the Flower Pavilion’s ten most popular beauties for the month. It wasn’t yet time to welcome guests, so only Ruge, dressed in red, stood beneath the golden board, tilting her head back to gaze at it in admiration! Brilliant! Ruge wondered what kind of genius had come up with such a brilliant idea. People in this world have a curious psychology: the more a flower is sought after by the crowd, the more they want to pluck it and admire it. And in a brothel as world-renowned as the Flower Tasting Pavilion, a girl ranked in the top three naturally holds a position that towers above the rest—who wouldn’t want to catch a glimpse of her beauty? That’s why the rates for the top-ranked beauties on the Flower Tasting Pavilion’s “Most Beautiful Flowers” list are always so astronomically high they leave people speechless. Furthermore, spurred on by the rankings and the financial incentives tied to their positions, the girls compete fiercely, pulling out all the stops to outdo one another—none of them dare slack off even for a moment. (After all, the rankings change every month—the slightest misstep could result in a drop of several places, or even falling off the list entirely. ) Naturally, the girls grew more and more beautiful through this competition, the standards of the ranked beauties rose higher and higher, the guests flocked to them in droves, and business at the Flower Tasting Pavilion flourished! “Brilliant! Genius!” Ruge couldn’t stop raving, her head practically nodding to the ground. “What are you up to, you little one?” Aunt Hua emerged from the side hall to find Ruge standing there alone, grinning like an idiot. “Hello, Aunt Hua!” Ruge turned to bow to her, then continued studying the Golden List and asked, “Aunt Hua, who came up with the idea for this ranking list?” “The Big Boss.” “The Big Boss?!” Ruge’s eyes lit up. She grabbed Aunt Hua’s sleeve and asked eagerly, “Who exactly is the Big Boss? Why won’t anyone tell me?” Aunt Hua gazed absently at the Golden List. After a long moment, she replied, “It’s not that they won’t tell you—it’s that they don’t know.” “Huh? Is it that mysterious?” Ruge was disappointed. “You little brat, why are you asking so many questions!” Aunt Hua glared at Ruge with exasperation and turned to leave. How strange—how had she ended up telling a little girl all this without even realizing it? Ruge hurriedly grabbed her sleeve again. “Auntie, don’t go! I still have more questions for you!” “I don’t have time!” “Auntie, you’re the best…” Ruge pleaded softly. Auntie Hua took a deep breath; in the end, she couldn’t bring herself to be harsh. “Go ahead.” Ruge beamed: “May I ask, Auntie, how exactly are the rankings on that ‘Most Beautiful Flowers’ list determined?” “Appearance, service, and popularity.” “Oh…” Ruge realized it all at once and clapped her hands. “That makes sense, that makes sense… But wait, something’s not right…” A new question arose in her mind. “What’s not right?” “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Our miss is ranked seventh this month, but her looks aren’t any less than those of Miss Purple Dragonfly, who’s ranked fifth. In fact, I think she’s even prettier than Miss Youlan, who’s ranked third. Some prefer plump figures, others slender ones—it’s hard to judge who’s more beautiful. And as for service, Miss Fenghuang, who’s ranked fourth, is always yelling at customers and using harsh, offensive language. There’s no way she should be ranked higher than our miss!” Aunt Hua chuckled. “That’s where you’re mistaken. These days, the wild and feisty type is all the rage. A little wildcat like Fenghuang happens to be just what many customers are looking for—you can’t help but admit it.” “Oh? Is that so?” So every industry has to keep a tight grip on the pulse of what’s in vogue. “Still, you have a point,” Aunt Hua said, looking at her approvingly. “It’s hard to judge beauty and service objectively, so this ranking is mainly based on popularity.” “Popularity?” “Right. And this popularity doesn’t just mean who has the most customers; more importantly, it’s about the status and standing of those customers. Take Qu Youyou, for example. She shot up to sixth place because Minister Liu took a liking to her a month ago. Do you understand?” Ruge blinked and smiled. So that’s how it is! It seems that to help Feng Xixi break into the top three, simply dressing more strikingly won’t be enough—finding influential patrons is the shortcut! The next question— Where does one find such influential patrons? Ruge began to feel a headache coming on. It was the first day of the month. Night had just fallen. Yet an unusual atmosphere was quietly stirring within the Flower Tasting Pavilion. The Wind Pavilion. Ruge carefully adjusted Feng Xixi’s veil and asked curiously, “Miss, don’t you feel that something’s been a bit off these past few days?” Feng Xixi’s exquisite features were veiled by a mist-like white gauze, making her appear dreamlike, mysterious, and alluring. Admiring her reflection in the bronze mirror, she remarked casually, “It’s like this every month. Whenever the first or fifteenth of the month rolls around, many of the girls in the house and their maids turn into little thieves, eavesdropping and peeking around, trying to figure out what others are doing.” Ruge grew even more curious. “Methods? What methods?” “Naturally, methods for attracting men.” Feng Xixi glanced at her. Seeing that she still didn’t quite understand, she explained patiently, “At the Flower Pavilion, the first and fifteenth of each month are when we have the most guests, and it’s the best time for the girls to showcase their beauty and talents. As long as you seize this opportunity and manage to stand out, your value and reputation will rise significantly. “And if you can use this golden opportunity to attract one or two high-ranking patrons, you’ll rise to the top and outshine the rest.” Ruge suddenly understood. “So that’s it. I get it! That’s why all the girls want to know what others are wearing and whether they’re more impressive than themselves—they’re doing everything they can to outshine the competition tonight and snag the most sought-after patrons!” "Then she wouldn’t have to worry about finding a high-profile guest to elevate Feng Xixi’s status, would she? Wonderful! She let out a sigh of relief. But— “How can one attract a guest?” She asked humbly. Feng Xixi gave a wry smile: “That’s the hardest part.” Ruge pricked up her ears and listened intently. “Men’s hearts are as inscrutable as the depths of the sea; they’re truly hard to fathom.” A long, drawn-out sigh drifted over… Huh? Isn’t that phrase usually used to describe women? Are men like that too? “Every client has different tastes. Some prefer the shy type, some the wild type, and some the aloof type…But you can only appear in one outfit each time you go on stage. It’s like placing a bet at a casino—if luck is on your side, you’ve hit the jackpot; if not, you can only watch helplessly as a good customer gets snatched away by another girl.” “So what can we do?” “We just have to take the gamble.” Feng Xixi suddenly smiled: “But even when gambling, you can’t go in unprepared. I’ve done some research.” “The most notable guest tonight should be—” Ruge’s eyes widened as she waited for her to continue. Feng Xixi gently caressed her beautiful face, veiled in mist beneath her white gauze, and whispered: “—the young master of the City of No Swords, Dao Wuxia.” Dao Wuxia? Just hearing the name made one feel he must be a fascinating figure. Feng Xixi mused, “I’ve heard Dao Wuxia is of noble character; he likely wouldn’t be drawn to a woman who flirts openly. But if I’m too aloof and dignified, I fear he might grow bored of it after seeing it so often. So, Ruge’er, do you think this outfit is appropriate for today?” Ruge appraised Feng Xixi. She wore a flowing white silk gown paired with sheer white gauze, her hair pulled up into a high bun—simple and unadorned, save for a single ivory-white jade hairpin tucked diagonally into her hair. She looked graceful and elegant, like a delicate fairy in the morning mist. “Miss, you are truly breathtakingly beautiful!” Ruge praised her, then asked in puzzlement, “But why cover your face with a white veil?” Feng Xixi laughed mockingly: “Men are inherently vulgar. The more you obscure your features, the more they want to see. I suspect this Dao Wuxia is no exception.” Is that so? Men are inherently base?! Ruge was so shocked she couldn’t speak. Yet, at that moment, she suddenly felt that Feng Xixi’s face, shrouded in white gauze, resembled a peony in the mist—faintly visible, both beautiful and tantalizing, truly captivating! Seeing Ruge gazing at her dreamily, Feng Xixi couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. She patted her on the head and said, “It’s getting late; we should make our entrance.” “Yes,” Ruge replied. Suddenly, another question popped into her mind, and she blurted out, “Miss, why are there always so many guests on the first and fifteenth of the month?” In the center of the Pinhua Lou’s main hall stood a pavilion constructed of green bamboo. With bamboo railings and gently draping curtains, an antique incense burner emitted a gentle, soothing fragrance that seemed to overpower the scent of food and drink filling the hall, brightening the hearts of those present. A green bamboo music stand. An ancient zither. A man in white sat upright, quietly playing the qin. The sound of the qin flowed gently. Like a stream emerging from the mountains, crystal-clear to the bottom, with bright ripples and pebbles glistening on the stream bed—as if every stone held its own little joy and little sorrow… All the guests in the Flower Tasting Pavilion fell silent. Their gazes are fixed on the man in white, spellbound, lost in his music, as if they have fallen into a poetic dreamscape. Only then does Ruge understand. She had long wondered why a bamboo platform had been set up in the main hall, taking up so much space for no apparent purpose. It turns out this platform was reserved specifically for the man in white, and no one else was allowed to use it. It also turned out that the man in white only came here to perform on the first and fifteenth days of the lunar month, which is why those two days each month were the busiest at the Flower Appreciation Pavilion. He— Could he be the legendary Qin the Sage? Unfortunately, from where Ruge was sitting, she could only see the man’s back and not his face. But even from behind, he appeared ethereal and refined, as pure and graceful as a celestial being. Feng Xixi had told her that his name was You Qin Hong. And persuading You Qin Hong was precisely the task Ruge had to undertake. This mission, of course, had been entrusted to her by Feng Xixi. Success was mandatory; failure was not an option. That was Feng Xixi’s demand of her. Yet, as she gazed at the white-clad man’s silhouette, Ruge’s heart suddenly began to race. The guests listened intently to You Qin Hong’s qin music. Meanwhile, the girls of Pinhua Lou were secretly sizing up the guests in the hall. There were thirty-six tables in the main hall. Among them were nine exquisite red-lacquered rosewood round tables and twenty-seven fine carved square tables. Each rosewood round table was attended by one young man and one maid;while each carved square table was attended by only one young man. The silver required to reserve a rosewood round table was ten times that of a carved square table. Moreover, if one had money but lacked sufficient status and prestige, no matter how much silver one offered, Pin Hua Lou would rather leave the rosewood table empty than allow one to sit at it. Guests qualified to sit at a rosewood table possessed unquestionable wealth and status. Therefore, the eyes of the girls at Pinhua Lou were almost entirely fixed on the guests at the nine rosewood tables. Especially the one closest to the Qingzhu Pavilion stage. There were three people at that table. Before they entered, Feng Xixi had roughly told Ruge their names and distinguishing features. The most striking figure was a young man dressed in brocade robes and a jade sash, his hair bound by a golden crown. His face was as fair as jade, his features chiseled, and his bearing noble and dignified. He must be the star of the evening— Dao Wuxia. Not bad, Ruge nodded. The City of No Swords was the second-largest martial arts sect in the martial world, second only to the Blazing Fire Manor, with a quiet yet formidable presence that suggested it might one day claim the top spot. Dao Wuxia was the young master of the City of No Swords and the future city lord. His martial arts were considered the pinnacle among the younger generation of heroes, and coupled with his striking appearance and impeccable reputation, it made perfect sense that he would be the center of attention as the ladies vied for his favor tonight. To Dao Wuxia’s right sat a younger man. He was slightly plump, with a fair complexion, yet his eyes held a certain darkness. He must be Dao Wuxia’s younger brother, Dao Wuhen. Strange—how could two brothers differ so much in appearance? Ruge looked to Dao Wuxia’s left— Ah, there was a woman. In principle, the Flower Pavilion does not welcome female guests; however, if the woman’s status is “noble,” or if the person bringing her in is of “noble” standing, exceptions can be made. (What? Someone’s asking about the standard for “nobility”? Figure it out for yourself. ) Her name seems to be—Dao Liexiang, the only daughter of the Lord of the City of No Swords. Dao Liexiang wasn’t particularly delicate in appearance; her features were rather sharp, and her brow exuded a heroic spirit. She wasn’t listening closely to Qin Hong’s performance, but simply held her wine cup, quietly drinking alone. Alright, observation complete. Ruge withdrew his gaze and looked at Feng Xixi, who sat elegantly before him, silently hoping that everything would go smoothly for her tonight and that she would get what she wanted. Something’s wrong! Ruge suddenly felt she had missed something. She jerked her head up and looked toward a corner of the hall! An ordinary, carved square table. On it were only three simple side dishes; there was no wine, and the food had not been touched. Two people sat at the table. A man of about twenty-seven or twenty-eight, dressed in black, with light eyebrows and narrow, slanted eyes, stood respectfully behind another man. The other man was as fair as jade. Dressed in a blue cotton robe, he was twenty-two or twenty-three years old, with a clear, handsome face. His eyes were as gentle and lustrous as polished jade, and a faint radiance seemed to emanate from between his brows. At first glance, he did not stand out, yet upon closer inspection, one became mesmerized, unable to tear one’s gaze away. The man in blue, however, was seated in a wooden wheelchair; his legs appeared to be disabled. His hands rested on his lap, clean and neat. On his left hand was a ring made of milky white jade, carved with a pattern that was too faint to make out from a distance. Just as Ruge looked over, the man in blue was looking at her as well. Their gazes pierced through the grand hall filled with guests. They met! The man in blue smiled. His smile was like a jade imbued with the spiritual essence of the sun and moon—subtle, elegant, and radiant—piercing straight into Ruge’s heart! Ruge, like a startled fawn, quickly lowered her head, afraid to look at him again, yet her heart was already in a state of utter turmoil, and for a moment she forgot where she was. The Green Bamboo Qin Stage. Qin Hong’s wide sleeves fluttered lightly as the piece came to an end. After the lingering notes faded for a moment, the guests in the hall seemed to slowly awaken from a dreamlike state. Cheers and exclamations of admiration surged like waves, and the atmosphere reached its climax. Yet Ruge had not yet recovered from the shock of seeing the man in blue. Qin Hong exited the stage. Ruge remained in a daze. Feng Xixi, growing somewhat anxious, secretly reached back and tugged at the hem of her robe. Ruge blinked. Oh dear, she’d almost forgotten the important task she was tasked with. She quickly gave Feng Xixi a reassuring gesture and turned to leave the main hall. The crescent moon arched like a delicate eyebrow. Stars twinkled in the sky. In the back garden of Pinhua Lou, the pavilions and gazebos stood in striking tranquility, as if they belonged to a world entirely separate from the bustling hubbub of the main hall. Under the moonlight. Ruge raised her voice to the pale, slender figure ahead of her and called out, “Mr. Youqin, please wait for me.” The figure in white slowed slightly but did not stop. Fearing he might leave, Ruge quickly pulled up her skirt and ran after him, shouting as she went, “Master Youqin, wait for me! I need your help!” You Qin Hong furrowed his brow slightly as he felt a burst of energy rushing toward him. Out of breath, she blocked his path, her clear, bright eyes blinking as she stared at him. It turned out to be a little girl in a red dress. Her face was as clear and translucent as crystal, her smile ingratiating, her voice crisp: “Hello, Mr. You Qin!” Ruge gazed at You Qin Hong with a beaming smile. He was very slender, his brow perpetually furrowed as if from habit, already marked by faint creases. His gaze was distant, as if he disliked being disturbed. Standing there, he resembled a spring forgotten by the world for millennia—still as a pond, without a ripple, devoid of love or hate. “Mr. Youqin, I’m a maid at the Flower Tasting Pavilion. My name is Ruge’er.” “I don’t know you.” “Hehe, don’t we know each other now?” She smiled with pure innocence. “Go away.” Ruge’s smile faded, and she said dejectedly, “Sir, don’t you know it takes a lot of courage to speak to a stranger? Being so cold to me will really crush my confidence in interacting with people in the future.” “That’s none of my business.” To the girls and maids at the Flower Tasting Pavilion, aren’t the people they entertain every day all “strangers”? What a joke this little girl is telling. “I’m new here.” Ruge forced a pitiful expression, hoping to win his sympathy. But it didn’t seem to work. So, she decided to get straight to the point— “Our mistress has asked you to accompany her dance.” Yes, this was Feng Xixi’s “perfect” plan. Feng Xixi was a skilled dancer; a talented scholar had once composed a poem praising her graceful movements as “a gentle breeze caressing a slender willow, a colorful butterfly playing among lotus blossoms.” At an occasion like tonight’s, she naturally intended to perform a dance to capture the guests’ attention. The problem was, she wasn’t the only one with exceptional dancing skills at the Flower Tasting Pavilion; Miss Mint, Miss Purple Dragonfly, and Miss Fragrant Peach were all quite outstanding as well. To come out on top, she would have to pull off something extraordinary! Have You Qin Hong accompany her! Everyone knew that You Qin Hong was aloof and haughty, and had never agreed to accompany anyone before. If she could persuade him to help, Feng Xixi could ride on his fame to become the most dazzling star of the evening. However, persuading You Qin Hong was an extremely difficult task. Ruge stood with You Qin Hong in the back garden. Suddenly, the sound of stringed instruments drifted over from the main hall, accompanied by a woman’s melodious, lingering song—a tune so tender and captivating it stirred the soul. She knew that the competition among the young ladies at Pinhua Lou—a contest of talent and beauty—had already begun. Feng Xixi must be waiting for her good news. Therefore, she had to succeed! She pleaded softly, “Please, Mr. Youqin, play a piece for our young lady. It doesn’t have to be long; it’ll be over in no time!” “In your dreams.” He stepped around her, ready to leave. Ruge grabbed his arm and pleaded urgently: “Please, agree to this!” Her palms were hot, and through her clothes, they pressed against the crook of his right arm. You Qin Hong paused, startled. Then, he shook her off and snapped, “How dare you!” “Please, just say yes.” Ruge stuck out her tongue, clasped her hands behind her back, and persisted undaunted. A wave of irritation washed over You Qin Hong. She had clearly let go, yet why did his crook of the arm still feel scorching hot, as if she’d left a brand there? “If you just agree, I can grant you a wish.” The moonlight fell softly, and Ruge smiled like an elfin fairy, as if solemnly waiting for him to make his wish. “I don’t have a wish.” “That’s impossible. Everyone has a wish. You must have one too.” Qin Hong snorted derisively. “Even if I did, you couldn’t make it come true.” Ruge gave a tiny, adorable smile: “That’s not necessarily true. You must never underestimate anyone in this world; everyone’s potential could be limitless.” “Deal?” No sooner had Ruge set one foot back inside the Flower Appreciation Pavilion than her eyes nearly popped out of her head. Good heavens, what on earth was Miss Baihe doing?! There she stood, her rosy cheeks flushed with springtime charm, her almond-shaped eyes half-closed, her crimson lips slightly parted. A delicate, pale yellow silk gown had slipped lazily halfway down her body, draping onto the floor. Her bare shoulders were exposed, her bosom laid open, the bright yellow bustier clearly visible, and her delicate cleavage trembling seductively. Was this the “striptease” Feng Xixi had told her about, yet which she had never had the chance to see?! Ruge’s eyes widened, and she could barely breathe. Baihe danced seductively, her slender waist swaying like a graceful fish in water. With one hand, she gently slipped off what little clothing remained; with the other, she caressed her soft, supple breasts. Accompanied by the musicians’ melody, she made her way toward the table where Dao Wuxia and his two companions sat! Ruge stepped back behind Feng Xixi and whispered: “It’s done.” Feng Xixi nodded and said softly, “Let’s watch the show first.” Baihe danced gracefully, like flowers floating from the heavens, but suddenly, like a butterfly with a broken wing, she fell onto Dao Wuxia as if in a trance. A wave of gasps swept through the Flower Tasting Pavilion! Almost every guest stared at Dao Wuxia with envious eyes, wishing they could take his place to partake in such good fortune. But— Dao Wuxia’s expression hardened, his brows furrowed. With a sudden “whoosh,” he sprang to his feet, roughly flinging Baihe to the ground! “Ah!” Many guests jumped to their feet in shock. No way—how could he treat such a beauty so roughly? “Idiot.” Feng Xi’s cold laugh was so faint it was barely audible. Ruge knew exactly what she meant. In such a public setting, and given that Tianxia Wudao City was known for its decorum and propriety, Baihe’s attempt to seduce Dao Wuxia with a nearly lewd striptease was doomed to fail. Perhaps Baihe was taking a gamble? With her looks, she was at best above average at the Flower Tasting Pavilion, her ranking hovering around twentieth place. To make a name for herself, she had no choice but to take a chance. The winner becomes a king; the loser, a criminal. Unfortunately, Baihe failed. And so, she became a fool. Yet Baihe continued to smile seductively, wrapping herself around Dao Wuxia’s body like a serpent. Her slender, white fingertips caressed his thigh, slowly and sensually tracing their way upward. Her crimson lips murmured, “Master Dao…” Since she had already taken the gamble, she was going to go all in! Meanwhile. Ruge watched Baihe, who was still striving to win him over, and a sudden pang of sadness gripped her heart. She thought of a young man far away. That young man had dark, almost blue curls, dark, almost blue eyes, and a deep blue gem in his right ear. She suddenly longed to know if he had missed her during the time she had been away. Unconsciously, she looked again at the man in green. The man in green was staring at her. It seemed he had been staring at her the whole time, a faint trace of concern in his eyes. This time, Dao Wuxia didn’t move. It was Dao Liexiang who moved! She grabbed Baihe by her long hair and slapped her face twice in quick succession. Baihe’s cheeks swelled instantly, and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth! “You slut!” Dao Liexiang snapped coldly. “You love stripping down to seduce men, don’t you? Fine, I’ll make sure you’re completely naked today!” “Rip—” Baihe’s clothes were torn to shreds by Dao Liexiang. In an instant, she was left wearing nothing but a bright yellow bustier and panties! “No!” Baihe curled her naked body in terror, her fair, delicate frame shivering in the spring night air. “There are still a few scraps left,” Dao Liexiang snorted coldly. “Take those off too!” She reached out to grab Baihe’s bodice! Ruge felt a surge of hot blood rush to her throat! She clenched her fists, about to shout— A black garment soared through the air. It floated lightly over everyone’s heads, draping itself over the trembling, terrified Baihe. Baihe wrapped it tightly around her body as if clutching a lifeline, tears streaming wildly onto the black fabric. Dao Liexiang was furious! Her phoenix-like eyes widened as she glared toward the right corner of the hall. There she saw a man with delicate features and slender eyebrows, clad only in an undershirt, his demeanor neither servile nor arrogant. Realizing the black garment on Baihe’s body must have been thrown by him, she roared, “You have the audacity—” “Sister!” Dao Wuhen suddenly cut off her rebuke, a look of surprise crossing his plump, pale face as he exchanged a glance with Dao Wuxia. In the blink of an eye, he had recognized the man with the delicate features as Xuanhuang! Xuanhuang was not to be feared. What was truly terrifying was the Lihuo Manor. In this world, everyone has heard the saying: “The Blazing Fire of the Mortal Realm, the Dark River of the Underworld.” The Blazing Fire Manor held the top spot in the righteous world, while the Dark River Organization reigned supreme over the outlaw underworld. For years, these two factions had engaged in open and covert struggles, waging seventy-eight battles of varying scales. The total toll was seven hundred twenty-six dead, one thousand nine hundred eighteen wounded, and one hundred forty-five missing. However, nineteen years ago, the Dark River Organization suddenly vanished as if it had evaporated into thin air. There was no further activity or news, and overnight, it disappeared from the martial arts world. From then on, the Blazing Mountain Manor had no rivals. A few years later, the Blazing Mountain Manor effectively ruled the entire martial arts world. Lie Mingjing, the master of Liehuo Manor, had three disciples. Among them, the second disciple, Yu Zihan, rarely ventured into the martial world, and few recognized him; the Pigeon Group of the City Without Swords had gathered and compiled very little information about him. Yu Zihan, twenty-two years old, had been deaf and crippled in both legs since childhood. He often wore a blue robe, his features as gentle and smooth as jade, with a white jade ring on his left hand. It is said he has six attendants: Qinggui, Chi Zhang, Bai Hu, Xuanhuang, Huang Cong, and Cangbi. Of these, Xuanhuang and Huang Cong are the ones most frequently seen by the public. It was Xuanhuang whom Dao Wuhen recognized. Pinhua Tower. Silence. The musicians had forgotten to play. The guests had forgotten to breathe. They waited—some with excitement, some with curiosity, and some with anxiety—for the situation to unfold. Dao Wuxia shook out his brocaded robe; a look of joy spread across his jade-like face. With a few long strides, he approached the carved wooden table and, bowing deeply to the handsome, elegantly dressed man in the wooden wheelchair, spoke in a loud, respectful voice: “Dao Wuxia of the City Without Swords greets Lord Yu!” Before his words had even finished, he realized his mistake. Yu Zihan was deaf; how could he possibly hear what he was saying? This might be seen as disrespectful. But he couldn’t think of a good way to communicate with a deaf person on the spot, and he stood there, momentarily stunned. Just then, a force as gentle as a spring breeze gently lifted his body. Dao Wuxia dared not resist and raised his head in response to the gentle pull. Yu Zihan’s eyes. Serene and at ease, like a piece of warm jade resting quietly amidst the lush mountains and clear waters. Xuanhuang said, “Young Master Dao, please face my young master when you speak; he will understand what you are saying.” As he spoke, he took a sheet of paper and a finely crafted charcoal pencil from his robe and placed them on the table. Dao Wuxia thought to himself, Could it be that Yu Zihan has mastered lip-reading and can discern the meaning of words from mouth movements? If so, I must be careful. As he pondered this, he clasped his fists toward Yu Zihan and apologized repeatedly, saying, “My younger sister is young and impetuous; she acts without considering the consequences. I apologize for the embarrassment caused to Young Master Yu. I shall discipline her strictly upon our return.” Yu Zihan wrote on the paper in a stroke as light as smoke: “Your sister is innocent; there is no need to blame her.” Dao Wuxia let out a sigh of relief and replied, “Yes.” Xuanhuang remarked, “That courtesan’s behavior was indeed scandalous and disrespectful; it’s only natural that Miss Dao couldn’t bear to watch. But one must know when to stop.” Dao Wuxia replied, “Thank you for your advice.” Yu Zihan shook her head slightly, telling him there was no need to be so formal. Meanwhile, Feng Xixi wondered to herself who this “Jade” gentleman could be—someone so formidable that even the famed Wuxia treated him with such deference. It was a pity, though, that this jade-like figure seemed to be deaf, mute, and crippled; clearly, heaven could not bear to see anyone perfect. Ruge, however, kept her eyes on Baihe, who had been forgotten by everyone. Baihe had failed completely. Her lovely face was streaked with tears of humiliation, her fingers clenched tightly around her black gown as she trembled uncontrollably. Finally, she scrambled to her feet and staggered toward the exit, desperate to leave this place that had brought her such shame. No one was looking at her; she hoped to slip away quietly. She lowered her head and clenched her teeth, unwilling to see the mocking expressions of the other girls in the building. But as she passed by, she still heard Xiangtao’s scornful laughter, Quyouyou’s cold snort, the sound of Bohe Fei rolling her eyes, and the sound of Liu Xu spitting… Suddenly, a foot shot out of nowhere, tripping her! In her panic, Baihe had no time to dodge. Her left leg buckled, and she lost her balance, tumbling toward the ground. She reached out to grab hold of something, only to be shoved aside. In her panic, she looked up to see a smug, arrogant face—it was Fenghuang. They usually kept to themselves; why was she kicking her when she was down?! Baihe couldn’t stop her fall. As her body plummeted toward the ground, she closed her eyes. A cold, pitch-black void filled her chest. She was filled with hatred! Everyone was scrambling to climb the social ladder, using any means necessary—as long as they succeeded! She had merely chosen the wrong method. Why did she have to fall into this abyss of ridicule and trampling? She hated it! A pair of warm little hands. Baihe didn’t hit the cold ground. A pair of warm, small hands wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her up with force and steadying her right next to Fenghuang, the one who had tripped her. Fenghuang, furious that someone had spoiled her fun, looked down and spat on the hem of Baihe’s robe, cursing: “You slut!” Baihe acted as if she hadn’t heard, nor did she turn to see who had helped her up. Her body stiff, she walked straight out of the Flower Appreciation Pavilion and into the night outside. Ruge lowered her head and stood behind Feng Xixi, her heart filled with an indescribable mix of emotions. Feng Xixi turned and glared at her, covering her mouth with a handkerchief as she scolded softly: “Why bother with a slut like that? It’ll only bring you trouble.” Ruge said nothing. “You’re quite nimble—you darted right behind that slut in the blink of an eye. What kind of martial arts did you use?” Feng Xixi asked suspiciously, suddenly realizing she didn’t really know Ruge’er very well after all. Ruge glanced toward the stage and said, “Miss, Miss Youlan’s calligraphy and painting performance is about to end. Would you like to go on next?” Feng Xixi hurriedly smoothed her gown and adjusted her veil, no longer bothering to question Ruge. Inside the Flower Appreciation Pavilion. Qin Hong was playing the guqin. Feng Xixi was dancing. No one noticed that a maid was missing. In the back garden. The moonlight was faint. The sound of the guqin drifted over, gentle and harmonious, simple yet elegant. Ruge looked up at the deep blue night sky. The wind stirred her red gown, billowing fiercely behind her. With no one else around, a faint sadness lingered on her fair, delicate face. Someone passed by, startling her. The person carried a small bundle, their back held perfectly straight, their features striking yet stern. Ruge sighed, “Why must you leave?” Lively peach blossoms bloomed around the woman, their shadows falling across her face and making the red marks on her cheeks—where she’d been slapped—look terrifyingly vivid. She glared at Ruge, her eyes filled with fierce hatred. After a long moment, she said: “Stay? So you can be insulted and mocked?” “You had the courage to tease Dao Wuxia in front of everyone, yet you lack the courage to face a little gossip?” “It’s different.” “How is it different?” Baihe sneered, “Why should I tell you!” Ruge gazed at her calmly and said, “Because I just helped you—I kept you from falling at Fenghuang’s feet.” Baihe sneered again: “You think I’d thank you?” “You will.” Ruge smiled. “It’s humiliating to be insulted by a woman like Fenghuang.” A strange gleam flashed in Baihe’s eyes, and a sneer twisted her lips: “True enough. No matter how low I sink, I’m still a hundred times better than that bitch Fenghuang.” Beneath the peach tree. Baihe touched the stinging red mark on her cheek and said bitterly: “At the Flower Tasting Pavilion, standing out on my looks alone is as difficult as climbing to the heavens. I refuse to wait until I’m old and past my prime, with no business left and not a single coin saved to last me a lifetime. This is my chance, and I must seize it. If I can climb my way up to Dao Wuxia, I’m sure to strike gold. He’s powerful and influential—no one will dare bully me again. Of course I’m going to take a gamble! Pfft, they all think Dao Wuxia must prefer those pretentious, prim young ladies from good families, so they keep acting all high and mighty. Ridiculous. If he really liked proper young ladies, why would he come to a brothel? With his status, he could have a handful of them at his fingertips! Everyone who comes to a brothel is a scoundrel—they all love watching women strip and act wanton. But I’m different from them! I’ll just strip for him and show him!” “But you failed,” Ruge reminded her. Baihe paused, closed her eyes, then said coldly, “So I’m leaving.” “Where to?” “I’ll take a new name and start over.” Baihe’s eyes darkened. “Once tonight is over, the name Baihe at the Flower Tasting Pavilion will become a laughingstock, utterly despised. I have no choice but to leave.” “Will you still be in this line of work?” “Do I have any other skills?” “I know some people who might be able to help you find…” “Forget it,” Baihe cut her off. “Once a courtesan, always a courtesan. I can never do anything else. Besides, if you really had connections, how did you end up at the Flower Tasting Pavilion?” Ruge looked at Baihe, her cheeks flushed crimson and her eyes fierce beneath the peach blossoms, and said helplessly: “Well then, good luck.” Baihe sneered, “Good luck is something you have to fight for yourself.” “You’re right,” Ruge nodded, pulling a small white porcelain bottle from her bosom and handing it to her. “This is a magical remedy for bruises. Apply it to your face, and the mark will vanish within an hour. That way, wherever you go, you’ll have a better chance of attracting good fortune.” Baihe gazed at her for a moment, tucked the bottle into her bosom, and turned to leave. From that day on, there was no longer a woman named Baihe at the Flower Appreciation Pavilion. The sound of the guqin faded. Applause and cheers thundered through the Flower Appreciation Pavilion. Ruge quietly returned to the main hall, knowing that with Qin Hong’s help, Feng Xixi had finally won a standing ovation. Her dazzling performance had left the other girls gazing at her in awe. Feng Xixi breathed softly, her cheeks a delicate pink beneath the white veil. Her alluring eyes swept rapidly across the room. Seeing all the guests gazing at her as if spellbound, she could not help but feel elated, yet she immediately sat up straighter, adopting the dignified, untouchable demeanor of snow on Mount Tianshan. Ruge whispered, “Miss, congratulations. the title of Flower Queen tonight is yours for the taking.” Feng Xixi shot her a playful glare, her heart brimming with joy. Just then, a figure suddenly rose to her feet in the center of the hall. She wore a form-fitting jade-green silk skirt adorned with floral motifs beneath a sheer peach-pink gauze overlay. With arched eyebrows and almond-shaped eyes, her features were strikingly beautiful, and her demeanor was bold and willful—none other than Miss Fenghuang, currently ranked fourth at the Flower Appreciation Pavilion. Fenghuang laughed loudly, “How unambitious of you all tonight, sisters! Nothing but singing, dancing, and painting—not a single bit of novelty. Don’t let the guests fall asleep! Let me perform something thrilling and exciting to liven things up. How about it?” “Yes!” Applause erupted from all sides! The other girls at the Flower Appreciation Pavilion, however, all turned to glare at her. Fenghuang was about to perform her “Flying Knives from a Hundred Paces”! To make it even more thrilling and spectacular, she ordered her maid Xiang’er to stand at a distance with an apple balanced on her head to serve as a target. But Xiang’er had never done anything like this before; she was scared stiff, her face ashen and her legs trembling, causing the apple on her head to wobble back and forth, making it impossible for Fenghuang to aim. Fenghuang grew furious and slapped her across the face: “You useless thing! Stop shaking! If you shake again, I’ll shoot right through your head!” Tears streamed down Xiang’er’s face. She closed her eyes, too afraid to speak. Over there, Dao Liexiang couldn’t hold back any longer. He shouted, “Hey! What kind of person bullies a little girl? Why are you hitting her?!” Fenghuang planted her hands on her hips and sneered, “What’s the matter? Just because you, Miss High and Mighty, can slap people, does that mean I can’t?! Besides, she’s my own girl—it’s none of your damn business if I hit or scold her!” Dao Liexiang was so enraged he nearly fainted. He roared, ““I was just dealing with a slut, but you’re making a poor little maid risk her life for you—how can that be the same?!” “Poor?!” Fenghuang reached out and pinched Xiang’er’s cheek until it turned deathly pale. “Xiang’er, tell me—how are you poor? Do I not feed you or clothe you?!” All I asked was for you to hold an apple, and you’re crying like a little tear-stained child, as if someone were abusing you—all to make me look bad, isn’t that right?!” Xiang’er gritted her teeth to hold back her tears and choked out, “This servant would never dare.” Fenghuang shot Dao Liexiang a withering glance and said, “Did you hear that? This is a matter between mistress and servant—it has nothing to do with outsiders!” “You!” Dao Liexiang had never been treated this way before; she was about to strike out at her when someone grabbed her arm. She struggled to break free, but to no avail—only then did she realize it was her elder brother, Dao Wuxia, holding her back. Dao Wuxia smiled gently. “Young lady, even if she is your maid, it is hardly appropriate to strike or scold her at will.” Fenghuang seemed completely uninterested in him and snorted coldly: “As long as she’s my maid, it’s none of your business!” Dao Wuxia didn’t get angry; instead, he smiled: “What if I were to buy her?”