The day before the restaurant’s opening, Meng Jiuyu hurried back from the palace. Seeing that he looked far more serious than usual, Madam Meng quickly poured him a cup of tea.
“Husband, did something happen in the palace?”
Madam Meng asked without the slightest fear—in fact, she sounded a little expectant.
Meng Jiaojiao sat nearby embroidering a pouch. Meng Xi’ang had heard that their father had returned and came over as well. Even Meng Xizhao lifted the curtain and walked in, though no one knew exactly what he had come for.
When the Meng couple spoke, they did not avoid their children—unless the matter concerned the children themselves.
Thus Meng Jiuyu gulped down the tea, wiped his mouth, and said with a grave expression, “His Majesty has decided to grant princely titles to the imperial sons.”
Madam Meng looked surprised. “All of them?”
Meng Xi’ang was shocked. “All of them?”
Meng Jiaojiao was delighted. “All of them?”
Meng Xizhao: “……”
Meng Jiuyu glanced at his daughter as well, but he had no time to lecture her on proper manners now.
“Not all of them. His Majesty showed us the proposed titles and fiefs. The Second Prince will become Prince Zhao, the Third Prince Prince Lu, the Fourth Prince Prince Wei, the Fifth Prince Prince Linjiang… and the Sixth Prince will receive no title.”
The key point was the final sentence: the Sixth Prince would not be titled.
The emperor had eight sons in total. The eldest was the Crown Prince. Excluding the eighth—still nursing—and the seventh, who had only just learned to hold a brush, the remaining princes were close in age.
The Crown Prince was nineteen this year. The Sixth Prince was fourteen—only five years younger.
The Fifth Prince, whom Meng Jiaojiao liked, was fifteen. Logically speaking, if he had already been granted a title, then the Sixth Prince, whose birthday was only a few months apart from his, should not have been left out.
Meng Jiuyu had dealt with the emperor for more than ten years—how could he not understand what the emperor was thinking? But even before his own family, it was not something he could say openly.
So he merely cast a subtle glance at his wife.
Madam Meng held great contempt for the emperor’s conduct, but there was nothing she could do. She sighed faintly.
“Imperial Consort Gan truly has good fortune.”
In his heart, Meng Jiuyu nodded wildly.
Indeed—her death had benefited the entire family.
But outwardly he remained composed and unreadable. Sitting down, he said, “Enough of that. The ceremony for the princely investitures will not be for several months yet, so it will not conflict with the palace examination.”
Then he turned to care about his children.
“Eldest son, you must review your studies well, and also strengthen your body. Your father does not ask you to bring glory to the family—being safe and well is enough.”
Meng Xi’ang was so nervous that his internal organs seemed to twist together, yet he could only reply with a touched expression, “Yes, Father. Your son will obey.”
Turning his head, Meng Jiuyu looked at his daughter.
“Jiaojiao, in another year you will reach your coming-of-age ceremony. Your marriage will be arranged by your mother and me. As a young lady, you only need to wait. We will never harm you.”
Meng Jiaojiao felt a little guilty. Tugging at the handkerchief in her hands, she gave a vague response.
Then Meng Jiuyu looked toward Meng Xizhao.
The latter had been waiting for this. As soon as he saw his father glance over, he straightened his back and smiled, ready to receive his father’s earnest concern.
Meng Jiuyu opened his mouth.
“Second son, have you eaten?”
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
The smile on his face gradually stiffened.
After a long moment of complicated emotions, Meng Xizhao finally nodded. “I have. And I ate two full bowls.”
Meng Jiuyu looked very pleased. “Good, good.”
Madam Meng also nodded along with her husband.
Meng Xizhao had already become numb. He wiped his face and decided he might as well finish what he had come to say and then leave.
“Father, Mother, my restaurant opens tomorrow. If you have time, you can come take a look.”
Meng Jiuyu: “…You are certain you want me to go?”
A Vice Director of State strolling into a brothel—he could already imagine the censors’ wild delight.
Madam Meng added, “Second son, we will support you silently from behind.”
Public support was another matter. Over the years she had already suffered from her reputation. Her fiery temperament had spread widely enough that even Meng Jiaojiao’s reputation had been affected. Now the girl was already fourteen, yet not a single family of equal status had come forward sincerely to propose marriage.
Those who came all had ulterior motives.
So it was not that she did not support her second son—but she had to consider her daughter’s future.
Meng Xizhao felt calluses forming on his tongue. He had explained countless times that he was not opening a brothel. Why would no one in his family believe him?!
Meng Xi’ang, still maintaining his scholarly top-student persona, said nothing. Meng Jiaojiao, however, looked eager.
“Second Brother, can I go see it?”
Before Meng Xizhao could even open his mouth, Meng Jiuyu and Madam Meng spoke in perfect unison:
“No!”
Meng Xizhao: “……”
Honestly, the double standards in this family were outrageous.
The next day, Meng Xizhao set out alone, lonely as falling snow.
By the time he arrived at Wangjiang Tower, Cui Ye had already been waiting there for the time it took to drink half a cup of tea.
A servant led him into a private room. As soon as the door closed, Meng Xizhao quickly cupped his hands in apology.
“My apologies, Your Highness. I am late.”
Cui Ye looked at his cautious and respectful manner, frowning slightly.
“It is nothing. I have not been waiting long.”
Hearing this, Meng Xizhao straightened up briskly. He picked up a piece of pastry, stuffed it into his mouth, and walked to the window while chewing. He even waved to Cui Ye.
“Your Highness, come look over here. The view’s good.”
Cui Ye: “……”
Cui Ye actually stood up and walked over, standing beside him to look down.
He asked, “Weren’t we supposed to go see the tavern you just opened?”
Meng Xizhao said, “Yes, but there are too many people right now. Let’s watch a good show first, then slip in quietly afterward.”
Cui Ye: “……”
They were not going in to steal anything, so why did they need to sneak in?
Casting Meng Xizhao a suspicious glance, Cui Ye still had no idea what scheme he was brewing. He could only lean forward as well, curiously looking toward the signboard that had yet to be unveiled.
A new tavern was about to open on Baihua Street, and the news had already spread half a month ago.
As the trendsetting district of Great Qi, even the opening of a new street stall on Baihua Street became a topic of after-dinner gossip. Not to mention a five-story tavern like this one. The previous establishment here had been called Shuangfeng Tower. The girls inside were beautiful and charming, skilled at entertaining guests, and two courtesans of the highest rank held court there. Business had been extremely prosperous.
No one knew the background of the newcomer, yet it had managed to push Shuangfeng Tower aside and open here itself.
Knowing that the grand opening was today, every idle drifter in Yingtian Prefecture had come out. They all gathered in front of the new tavern, waiting for the manager to unveil the signboard.
When Jin Zhu saw that the auspicious hour had arrived, she ordered people to set off firecrackers, then pulled away the red silk covering the entrance.
Other establishments simply wrapped cloth around the signboard. This place, however, had draped an enormous sheet of red silk from the fifth-floor window, covering the entire building.
It was not only mysterious.
It was extravagantly rich.
Extravagantly rich to an almost unreasonable degree.
The sea-like red silk slowly descended to the ground, and the scene inside finally revealed the tip of the iceberg. People immediately stared until their eyes could hardly keep up.
So many beautiful women!
So many beautiful women who ignored everyone!
Wait—why were they turning their heads away instead of coming out to solicit customers?
Jin Zhu stepped back and blended into the crowd, signaling to a girl beside her with her eyes.
This girl was also a great beauty. From her attire alone it was clear her status was unusual. Though dressed like a young maiden, the way she carried herself made her look like the proprietress.
She explained the confusion to the crowd.
“Our establishment, Buxuntian, is a membership tavern. Only guests of great talent may register and become honored patrons of Buxuntian, thereby receiving the favor of these ladies.”
At this point she lifted her chin proudly.
“Talented people are as numerous as fish crossing a river, but those of truly great talent are like a single grain in that river. If one truly possesses great talent, even living in a humble dwelling, Buxuntian will honor them as distinguished guests. But if one is merely an empty fool, even throwing down a thousand taels of gold will result in being turned away. To us, such a person is worth no more than mud.”
The entire crowd erupted.
So arrogant?!
Most of the people present today were loafers with nothing better to do. Even if a few were young men who had yet to earn any scholarly title, the fact that they were loitering outside a brothel opening in broad daylight meant they were hardly the finest stock. Naturally, they did not like hearing such words, and immediately began protesting.
“Bullshit! Talent or no talent—just a gimmick. Are you, a mere shopkeeper, supposed to decide whether someone has talent?”
The girl replied with a cold expression, “Of course not me. Fair judgment exists in the hearts of the people.”
The onlookers were still dissatisfied when a female voice with a faintly sickly tone sounded nearby.
“If I truly possess the great talent you speak of, could I also enter?”
The girl turned to look at the woman who had spoken. Everyone else did the same—and instantly sucked in a breath.
This woman was even more beautiful than those inside!
The girl asked, “May I ask for the lady’s name?”
The woman lowered the veil of her hat halfway, as if displeased by the surrounding stares. With her eyes lowered, supported by her maid, she said calmly,
“Sang Fanyu.”
Some people immediately recognized the name; others did not. But before they could react, the girl moved even faster.
Her eyes widened. A beauty’s astonishment made her even more captivating.
“So it is Courtesan Sang! Please, please come in at once. Your piece Phoenix Flute Chant has moved countless lovers to tears. You are indeed a woman of great talent! Courtesan Sang, please go register first. From now on, whenever you come to Buxuntian to enjoy music and entertainment, everything will be free of charge.”
Soon someone came out from inside, respectfully escorting Sang Fanyu in. Four women came over to serve her alone, and shortly afterward they led her upstairs to the second floor.
The onlookers stared in shock, finally realizing what they had just missed.
That was Sang Fanyu.
The Sang Fanyu whom countless scholars had thrown money at yet still failed to meet.
And they had just missed her!
The Sang Fanyu effect immediately took hold. Everyone now wanted to go inside—but the rules had already been stated. If you did not meet the requirements, you could not enter.
Some wanted to cause trouble, but several guards stood nearby, and they did not dare.
Moreover, not everyone was a fool. Soon a second person stepped forward.
“My writing is mediocre. In my youth I joined the army and only returned from the frontier last month. I wonder if this set of fists and legs of mine could count as great talent?”
The girl asked him, “Sir, how is your martial skill?”
The man grinned with a fierce aura.
“In three years, I killed one hundred twenty-six barbarians of Nanzhao.”
Upstairs, Meng Xizhao silently did the math.
If killing three people earned a promotion of one rank, then with one hundred twenty-six kills, the worst this man could have achieved was the rank of a sixth-grade general.
The girl’s arithmetic was even faster than Meng Xizhao’s. She immediately gave him a formal salute normally reserved for men.
“Many thanks, sir, for defending Great Qi and bringing glory to our nation. Sir—please!”
Where there was a first and a second, there was soon a third.
Cui Ye watched coldly for a while and noticed something: those whom the girl allowed inside were either already famous figures in Yingtian Prefecture or officials holding some rank.
And she was extremely good with words. If the person was a military officer, she praised them for guarding the frontier and defending the realm with great merit. If the person was a civil official, she spoke of them as benevolent administrators, virtuous guardians of the people, saviors of the common folk—naturally individuals of immense talent.
Thus, Cui Ye’s expression gradually became difficult to describe.
Those who were allowed inside had already gone in to enjoy themselves, while those who were refused refused to leave. Who would willingly admit they were worthless?
They argued with the girl.
“So if you have not heard of someone, does that mean they have no talent? If a person is unknown and obscure, do they not deserve respect?”
The girl had a countermeasure for that as well.
She marked out a piece of ground beside the tavern. On the left stood a table with brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. On the right were three expressionless guards.
Both the literary and the martial paths were covered.
Unknown and obscure? No problem. Write an essay on the spot and let everyone see it. If the crowd reads it and agrees it is good, then you may enter. As for the martial route, that was even simpler. See those three guards? One against three. Knock them all down, and the doors of Buxuntian would open wide for you.
Now those who truly had some ability began to stir with eagerness.
Several scholars stepped out on the left side, faces lofty as they lifted their brushes and began composing essays. Once they finished, before anyone could even judge them, the scholars themselves started arguing. Each believed his own work the best, and the others’ nothing but trash.
Behind every scholar stood an entire teacher’s lineage. If someone lost a public literary contest like this, how could that be tolerated? Word would spread back, and the teacher at home would tremble with anger, sitting there and immediately writing an essay to reclaim his student’s honor.
The martial contests on the other side were even livelier.
Two fists could not defeat four hands. Meng Xizhao had devised this method mainly to control the flow of people entering Buxuntian. What he wanted were true masters of martial arts; petty, half-baked skills did not interest him at all. Therefore many stepped up to try, but most were kicked out by the guards before anything much even happened.
The spectators roared with laughter as they watched. It was even more entertaining than watching street performers.
Still, not everyone failed.
When a dark-skinned man in his twenties stepped forward, the crowd suddenly fell silent, because one glance told them he was trained.
Sure enough, the situation became completely one-sided.
Just not in the direction people expected.
The three guards were carried away, while the man himself was respectfully invited into Buxuntian.
Soon new guards took their place, and challengers continued to pour forward in droves.
Every person who entered had their name recorded, along with their home address and the names of two relatives or close companions. Distinguished guests could bring two companions of their own, but the companions’ names could only be changed once every three months.
Thus when filling out the forms, everyone deliberated again and again.
After all, this was a society built on personal relationships. Everyone had quite a few close friends. Though they had not yet seen what the interior of Buxuntian was like, they had already realized this place was extraordinary. If they did not put down their very best friends’ names, they might very well earn resentment later.
Watching this entire smooth and effortless sequence of events, Cui Ye smiled knowingly.
“Second Young Master is also a man of great talent.”
Hearing the way he addressed him, Meng Xizhao finally let out a breath of relief. Although it still sounded a bit overly familiar and sticky to his ears, it was far better than that cold and distant “Second Young Master.”
He smiled as well. “Your Highness flatters me. The show is almost over—let us go down too.”