Buxuntian had become famous.
With such strict entry requirements, the other taverns on Baihua Street had initially waited eagerly to watch it fail.
But to their surprise, people not only did not mock it—they admired it more and more.
The reason lay in two simple words:
face and prestige.
Why did scholars dream of becoming the top scorer in the imperial examinations?
The top scholar would begin as a fourth-rank official. But even ordinary successful candidates started at the sixth rank. Those with talent could reach a third-rank provincial post within three or four years.
Yet in the eyes of scholars, only the title of top scholar truly mattered.
Not because they lacked patience.
But because the title itself carried incomparable prestige.
Buxuntian used its free entertainment and performances to attract a group of already well-known figures to visit. And people naturally flock together. Once they came, their friends wanted to come as well.
The high entry barrier greatly satisfied the guests’ vanity.
At the same time, it left those who fell just short standing outside, sighing with deep regret.
Why is it that my article just could not beat that person’s?
My official rank is too low, so I cannot even get inside. This tavern is even more selective about status than the Ying Tian Prefecture Office!
Wuwuwu, my idol is inside. I want to see my idol…
And so on and so forth.
A crowd gathered outside the entrance. Anyone passing by might think that Bu Xun Tian was unbelievably popular. The tavern keepers from nearby establishments were so jealous they could chew their own handkerchiefs. With business this good, how much money must they be making in a month!
Meng Xizhao would say: not that much.
…
And that was the truth. He really had not made that much.
Although Bu Xun Tian was extremely popular, up to now only a little more than one hundred guests had registered. Inside Bu Xun Tian there was no flesh trade. The most expensive thing they charged for was listening to songs. But there were too few singing girls, so quite often when guests arrived, they still had to line up.
The guests complained endlessly, and Meng Xizhao was so anxious that blisters had formed at the corners of his mouth. This was bad, very bad. The situation was starting to get out of control.
In the beginning, he had estimated that at most there would be about one hundred registered guests. And the guests could not come every single day. If the tavern received twenty or thirty people in a day, that would already count as peak season.
Who would have thought that every day there would be a flow of more than one hundred people, as if this group had nothing else to do except squat in Bu Xun Tian.
Well… that was not entirely true.
In the Renaissance Section, there really were several people who sat there every day composing poetry and matching verses. And on the fourth floor there were a few music connoisseurs who came every day to line up in person, swaying their heads as they listened to the singing girls perform.
As for the others, they came once every two or three days.
These people were not the registered VIPs. They were the companions brought by the VIPs.
Some were the wives of the VIPs, some their friends, some their fathers-in-law, and some their children. Except for the friends who had legitimate business to attend to, the rest were basically like the idle loafers wandering outside the door. They did not have much else, just an abundance of free time.
Meng Xizhao: “…”
When he had originally allowed VIPs to bring companions, he had intended to better grasp these people’s social networks. In theory, in a patriarchal society, men had to display loyalty and brotherhood when dealing with the outside world. So the companions they registered should have been their closest friends or respected teachers and classmates.
Who would have expected that these married men were all so devoted to their families. The companions they registered were entirely their own household members.
But thinking about it again, it also made sense.
Aside from a few who had official posts and whom he had let in through the back door, the rest either already possessed reputations for virtue or were widely known literary masters. It was perfectly normal for people like this to be devoted to their families.
Besides, this list of family members was not completely useless. At the very least, he now knew who doted on his wife and who cared for his children.
Setting the list down and picking up the account book, Meng Xizhao let out a long sigh.
A VIP-style tavern had this disadvantage: every guest had to be served like an ancestor. Each person needed at least two maidservants assigned to them. Someone of Sang Fanyu’s level needed four.
Combine that with the daily crowd, and even if he plucked every last hair from the Administrative Council, he still would not be able to supply enough staff…
Zhang Jiayuan had already come to complain to him. Too many servants had been transferred out of the residence. If this continued, they would have to pull the maids from the young ladies’ courtyard to make up the numbers.
Meng Xizhao’s old face reddened.
He should just hire people from outside. He could not really go and borrow maids from his own younger sisters.
Just as he was thinking about whether he should ask Fu Jicai to import another batch of descendants of singing girls, someone walked in from outside.
Meng Xiang had the day off today, so he came over to check on his younger brother.
“Second Brother.”
Meng Xizhao looked up and, upon seeing him, immediately smiled. “Elder Brother, what brings you here today?”
Meng Xiang paced around the room, looking at this and that before finally saying, “I heard your tavern’s business is doing quite well.”
All right then. Caring about his younger brother was merely incidental. Finding out about the tavern’s situation was the real purpose.
Meng Xizhao quietly glanced at him. Seeing him clearly very curious yet still pretending that he did not care about such trivial matters, he sincerely felt melancholy for this elder brother.
No matter what era it was, living in the closet was never easy.
Meng Xizhao said calmly, “It is all right. It has been open for seven days now. We have earned twelve thousand taels.”
The singing girls cost him nothing, and the beauties were simply the charming women around him, so none of that counted as expenses. But the renovation had come out of his own private funds. There were also the pearls, silks, brocades, gold and jade ornaments, and that absurdly expensive purple sandalwood door.
Add up all those costs and half of his savings had been emptied.
If he wanted to recover his investment, he would have to wait at least another month.
Meng Xizhao felt that he had not earned much. After all, the big taverns on Baihua Street each raked in well over one hundred thousand taels of silver every month. He had earned only this much in seven days, which was practically at the bottom.
But Meng Xiang’s pupils shrank.
S-So much!
Back then, he had also opened a shop on Baihua Street. After three months, not only had he failed to earn anything, he had actually lost several thousand taels of silver…
Sure enough, he simply was not cut out for business.
If he wanted to experience the joy of making money, perhaps the only way was to become an official.
Ah, becoming an official. Ah, the imperial examinations…
Meng Xizhao watched as a dark cloud drifted over Meng Xiang’s head, and then a drizzle slowly began to fall.
Meng Xizhao: “…”
After a moment of silence, he said, “Elder Brother, there is no need to worry. When the cart reaches the mountain, a road will appear.”
Meng Xiang gave him a weathered look. His eyes seemed to say one sentence: What the hell do you know?
“…”
After Meng Xiang left, Meng Xizhao raised his eyebrows toward the doorway, then lowered his head and continued reading the account book.
He had not been wrong. When the cart reaches the mountain, a road will appear. But there was an even simpler method.
Smash the cart, and you would not have to bother finding a road at all.
…
Just as he was preparing to put his malicious thoughts into action, someone suddenly rushed in from outside.
“Sir, he has come. He really has come!”
Meng Xizhao looked up. Seeing that it was Jinzhu, he froze for a moment before quickly standing up.
The two of them hurried toward the entrance of the residence.
Meng Xizhao still found it a little hard to believe. “He really came?”
Jinzhu would not dare deceive him. “Yes. That man said his surname is Qin. As soon as he came in he said he wanted to see you. If you had not reminded me beforehand, I would never have guessed it was that person.”
As they spoke, the two of them had already stepped outside the residence. The coachman was waiting there. One after the other, they climbed into the carriage. Meng Xizhao was still puzzled.
“How did it happen so quickly? I thought we would have to wait at least another half month.”
Suddenly, he realized what had happened.
Pressing his lips together, Meng Xizhao decided to think about it later. For now, he had to deal with what was right in front of him.
They hurried along at full speed. By the time they reached Bu Xun Tian, it had only taken the time of one cup of tea. Meng Xizhao gestured to Jinzhu, telling her to stand aside, then he straightened his clothes and made himself look as if he had rushed here in great haste. With an expression of anxious humility, he ran inside.
After stepping over the threshold, he even slowed down a little.
The moment he entered, he began scolding loudly.
“Grand Attendant Qin! What is the meaning of this? Grand Attendant Qin has come, and you did not invite him back to the residence! Useless servants, the lot of you. Tomorrow you will all be sold off!”
Qin Feimang was sitting in a chair drinking tea. Hearing this, he raised his eyelids and looked Meng Xizhao up and down before giving a slight smile.
“Second Young Master need not worry. I was the one who said I would simply wait here for you.”
Meng Xizhao chuckled foolishly, looking not particularly clever.
“Since Your Excellency has spoken, of course I will listen. By the way, may I ask what matter brings you here today?”
His question was not abrupt. After all, Qin Feimang was a eunuch. Although eunuchs could also visit entertainment quarters and pleasure houses, they usually did so secretly. Who would walk in openly and immediately request to meet the owner?
Although he was a eunuch, Qin Feimang was quite tall. He was older, around forty years old, roughly the same age as Meng Jiuyu. His complexion was very pale, and there were few wrinkles on his face. He even looked as though he were only about thirty.
When Cui Ye smiled, Meng Xizhao always felt like smiling along with him, because it looked pleasant.
But when Qin Feimang smiled, the back of Meng Xizhao’s head prickled as if stabbed by needles, because he felt that the man was about to do something underhanded.
“Second Young Master’s tavern is doing quite well.”
“Not at all, not at all.” Meng Xizhao looked modest. “Also, please do not call me Second Young Master. I am your junior. How could I deserve such a title? You are like my father in seniority, so just call me Second Son. If you do not wish to, you can simply call me by my name.”
After saying this, Meng Xizhao wore an innocent smile on his face, but in his heart he was thinking: say you do not want to, say you do not want to, say you do not want to…
Perhaps his silent chanting worked, because Qin Feimang truly did not wish to become that familiar with him. Tugging the corners of his mouth flatly, he said,
“Second Young Master is joking. I serve in the imperial palace. What I value most in daily life is the matter of rules. Please do not embarrass me.”
Meng Xizhao smiled and quickly said he would not dare.
This was only the second eunuch he had ever met, and he had already deeply realized how difficult this group was to deal with. It seemed that lowering his posture from the beginning had been the correct choice.
Better to offend a gentleman than a petty man. Better to offend a petty man than a eunuch.
Moreover, this person was the number one eunuch of the dynasty, practically as notorious as Meng Jiuyu among the corrupt officials.
He was the person closest to the emperor. Whatever the emperor wanted to do, he handled it. It was said that even the emperor’s private treasury was under his control. Whenever the emperor suddenly decided he wanted to carry out some wasteful project that burdened the people, Qin Feimang was the one who organized it.
If Meng Jiuyu did not have the overwhelming reputation of having “killed” Zhan Shenyou, it would be hard to say who truly deserved the title of the greatest villain in Great Qi.
As the number one corrupt figure inside the palace, Qin Feimang had countless projects in his hands. He did not have time to waste chatting idly with an inexperienced young man like Meng Xizhao. So he quickly revealed the purpose of his visit.
“Recently His Majesty heard that the youngest son of Vice Administrator Meng has opened a tavern that specializes in receiving talented people. The tavern has gained quite a reputation in Ying Tian Prefecture. Upon hearing this, His Majesty was very pleased and wishes to share in the joy with the people. Second Young Master should prepare properly.”
Meng Xizhao displayed the appropriate expression of astonished gratitude.
“Grand Attendant, please rest assured. Because of your favor, Xizhao will certainly handle this matter well!”
Qin Feimang glanced at him.
What does this have to do with me? When did I ever favor you?
I merely came to deliver a message, yet he speaks as though the emperor’s visit was something I personally arranged.
Although the words sounded quite pleasant, Qin Feimang was a seasoned schemer. He felt that something was not quite right. Meng Xizhao did not seem like the ignorant young man he had imagined. Judging by the skill of this flattery alone, he was almost on Qin Feimang’s level.
After a brief silence, Qin Feimang felt a hint of vigilance, but he did not take the matter too seriously. In his eyes, Meng Xizhao was still just a child. And after more than ten years of hearing that “Meng Jiuyu’s youngest son is a short-lived useless waste,” it would not be easy to overturn that impression so quickly.
After respectfully seeing Qin Feimang off, Meng Xizhao straightened his back and quietly took a breath.
He turned his head, and just then Jinzhu had already walked over.
The two of them exchanged a look. In each other’s eyes, they saw the same determination to face the coming challenge.
Success or failure would be decided in this one move.
Time to begin.
…
The current emperor…
had a personality that was particularly difficult to describe.
To talk about him, one first had to talk about his ancestors, the previous emperors.
Before the rise of Great Qi, the dynasty that ruled this land was called the Yue Dynasty. Before the Yue Dynasty, the Xiongnu had occupied the Central Plains. However, they only stayed for a few decades, about forty years, before the emperor of the Yue Dynasty drove them back to the grasslands.
But this resulted in the Yue Dynasty fighting the Xiongnu almost every year. The national treasury was never prosperous. Endless warfare exhausted the country, and the common people could barely survive.
Thus the Cui family, one of the noble families of the Yue Dynasty, eventually rebelled and declared themselves kings.
The founding emperor of Great Qi was not particularly honorable. After capturing the royal family of the Yue Dynasty, instead of executing them cleanly, he chose a place with excellent feng shui and had them all buried alive. He believed that by doing this, he could use the remaining dragon aura on the Yue royal family to ensure that Great Qi’s fortune would grow stronger and stronger.
But this theory was never proven.
Because only a few years later, he died.
The second emperor was a devoted son who worshiped his father without limit. What he hated most were those officials who said that his father’s massacre of the previous dynasty’s royal family had been a terrible sin and that this was why he had died so early.
At first he endured their criticism. But after he ascended the throne himself, he no longer tolerated it.
He executed every one of those officials who had spoken ill of his father.
When the other officials saw this, they thought, how could this be allowed? One after another they submitted memorials condemning his actions. But if he could not even tolerate people speaking ill of his father, how could he possibly tolerate people criticizing him? With a wave of his hand, he had those officials executed as well.
This was a ruthless man… In one stroke he killed two-thirds of the entire court. The government nearly collapsed. Later he promoted a group of officials who did nothing but praise him, yet even they lived in constant fear, because no one could guarantee they would always say the right thing. The moment they misspoke once, their lives would be over.
If this emperor had not also died after only a few years, there might not have been a Great Qi afterward.
The second emperor was obsessed with his father. The third emperor, however, was terrified of his father.
The ministers were afraid of the second emperor, but as his son, the third emperor had been even more afraid. After ascending the throne, the first thing he did was breathe a sigh of relief—finally he no longer had to worry that he might one day be executed as well.
Then he began sweeping reforms.
His father had been a tyrant, so he would become a benevolent ruler. His father killed ministers, so he would absolutely never kill ministers. His father had turned the entire court into a one-man dictatorship, so he turned the court into something like a tea party—anyone could speak, and he listened to everything.
…On the surface, he seemed like a good emperor. But in truth, he was soft-hearted and pliable, like a lump of dough. In modern terms, he was a pushover. He could not control the officials beneath him. Before long, the court became a chaotic mess, filled with endless factional struggles—so complicated that even the scheming concubines of Empresses in the Palace would shake their heads.
The economy actually developed better and better, but relations with neighboring states deteriorated more and more. The military generals wanted wars so they could gain promotions, while the civil officials wanted to undermine the generals to show their own brilliance. Everyone acted for their own benefit. No one acted for the sake of the country.
Naturally, disaster followed.
No one knew whether the founding emperor’s mass burial of the previous royal family had actually done anything, but this emperor also died soon afterward. Although the later emperors all died young, it was precisely because they died young that the precarious state managed to survive.
Finally, the throne passed into the hands of the current emperor.
The current emperor was named Cui Yan, with the reign title Tianshou.
Meng Xizhao strongly suspected the author had chosen this reign title deliberately. Countless times he had read “Tianshou Emperor” and accidentally seen it as “Short-Lived Emperor.”
…
In any case, Emperor Tianshou had grown up under the rule of the second and third emperors. He did not care to judge their political achievements, but from their behavior he came to one conclusion.
Being the emperor meant you could do whatever you wanted. There were no rules you had to follow. You could act entirely according to your own whims.
And so he surpassed both of them and simply became an emperor of pure whim.
He was neither cruel nor cowardly, but he was willful—and that single trait was more destructive than the other two combined.
When he was young, he whimsically decided to personally lead a military campaign. He made the decision one day and departed the next. Ten days later, he was surrounded by enemy forces. Sixty thousand soldiers had to charge into battle to rescue him. He survived just fine, but all sixty thousand soldiers were slaughtered by the Xiongnu.
Later he had a dream in which a snake brought him a ball. He believed it was an auspicious omen and immediately developed a fondness for snakes. When he heard that Nanzhao had the most snakes, and that they were especially large and beautiful, he ordered an invasion of Nanzhao.
The war had continued for twelve years now. Countless people had died there, and the nearby regions of Jiangzhou and Ezhou were filled with starving corpses. It was no wonder that rebel forces eventually arose in those areas.
And the most ridiculous thing of all—he was a hopeless romantic.
He fell in love at first sight with the daughter of a minister, who was already engaged and had even finished embroidering her wedding dress. He forcibly broke off her marriage and brought her into the imperial harem. For her sake he wanted to depose the empress, execute people, and overturn court politics. If the woman had not died early, who knew what other chaos he might have caused?
But even after her death, he continued stirring up trouble.
He held grudges against the officials who had opposed his attempt to depose the empress. He actually changed the laws of marriage, adding a “half-wife” system to the monogamous marriage structure. A half-wife could enter the family genealogy, go out to socialize, and the children born to her were considered legitimate heirs who could inherit titles.
He forced those officials to take half-wives, turning their households into utter chaos. In some families, it even led to deaths.
This outrageous maneuver was truly unprecedented in history—something the world had never seen before and likely would never see again.
And this was the emperor whose favor Meng Xizhao intended to flatter.
That was why he had asked Sang Fanyu to compose love poetry and had the singing girls practice love songs. A willful emperor’s preferences were impossible to predict, but one thing was certain—he truly loved that deceased noble consort. Whenever he gathered people to compose poetry, the theme was always love.
So Meng Xizhao could only approach the matter from that angle.
Meng Xizhao had assumed the emperor would come in a few days.
Who would have expected that he would arrive that very night?
Then again, this was someone capable of deciding to go to war one day and departing the next. He was clearly impatient. If appearing during the day had not been too conspicuous, he probably would have come at noon.
In the darkness of the night, Meng Xizhao waited beside the alleyway. From a distance, he saw several people approaching, escorting a single figure in the middle.
Meng Xizhao’s spirits lifted, and he quickly stepped forward to greet them.
Standing in the center was the much-talked-about Emperor Tianshou. His appearance… was passable. He was thirty-six years old, well maintained, with a healthy complexion. He looked as though he might live several more decades.
Meng Xizhao: …What a pity. Why did he not inherit the family’s short-lived genes?
Beside Emperor Tianshou stood Qin Feimang. The people behind them were probably guards. But there was also another person standing next to the emperor—a young man about the same age as Meng Xizhao, dressed in a bright blue robe that stood out among the group.
Glancing at the golden lotus crown atop the young man’s head, Meng Xizhao smiled and bowed.
“Everything has been prepared. Your Majesty, please follow me.”