Chen Zhou's vision blurred, and the surrounding graveyard vanished.
They were now in a narrow alley flanked by high walls on both sides. A few branches of an old locust tree peeked over the top of the walls, rustling gently in the wind.
Plague Rat scrambled up from the ground, shook the dust from his fur, and looked around. “Another illusion?”
Before the words could fully leave his mouth, the sound of string and wind instruments drifted over from the end of the alley.
The ethereal, melodious music drifted over across several courtyards. The air was thick with the cloying scent of rouge and powder, mingled with the aroma of alcohol and greasy smoke from a kitchen, carrying a noisy yet decadent vibe of luxury and indulgence.
Chen Zhou walked forward along the alley. Turning a corner, his view suddenly opened up.
Before them stood a three-story pavilion with sweeping eaves and intricate bracket sets. Red silk lanterns hung from the corners of the roof. Under the porch, several maidservants dressed in green robes bustled in and out carrying fruit platters and wine cups, their laughter and chatter filling the air.
On the second floor, a window facing the street was wide open, and someone inside was playing a zither.
The notes of the zither were intermittent, interspersed with the clinking of wine cups and the boisterous laughter of men.
“Is this...” Taotie scratched his head and turned to look at Hong Xiu.
Hong Xiu stood at the entrance of the alley, her gaze fixed on the pavilion. Her face was expressionless, though a trace of her habitual cold sneer lingered at the corners of her lips.
“The Southern Tang Music Registry, the place where I stayed before I died.”
Her gaze drifted past the crowd, looking toward the backyard of the Music Registry.
Shaded by the shadow of the main building, only a corner of a low roof and a tilted clothesline pole were visible.
Hong Xiu took two steps forward, gently waving her circular fan.
The emotions that had been suppressed back in the graveyard had completely settled at this moment.
Since this was her home turf and the memories had already begun, there was no escaping them.
Back then, she had survived in a place like the Music Registry precisely because she never ran away.
“Young Palace Master, please stay close to me.”
She slid back the bolt of a side door, and with a creak, the door swung inward.
Behind the door lay a corridor. The pillars were painted with vermilion lacquer, which had already peeled and weathered, exposing the pale wood beneath.
The end of the corridor connected to the back hall of the main building, from which the sound of a zither drifted, much clearer than what they had heard in the alley.
The group followed Hong Xiu through the corridor.
Along the way, they encountered several maidservants in green robes. Hurrying past, they didn't even acknowledge Hong Xiu, passing straight through her body.
They were all illusions.
Hong Xiu didn't bother to pay them any mind and turned directly into the side hall of the main building.
The side hall was packed with people. Men and women crowded together, their eyes all fixed on the high platform in the center of the hall.
The platform was carpeted in red, with silk flowers adorned at its four corners. In the very center stood a red sandalwood chair, with a vermilion brocade robe draped over its back.
Standing in the crowd, Hong Xiu looked up at the brocade robe, the corners of her lips curving slightly.
“So it's that day. No wonder,” she said.
Plague Rat sidled over. “Which day? What do you mean?”
“The Music Registry selects a Courtesan Queen every year.”
Hong Xiu said nonchalantly, “That was the year I was chosen. Everyone upstairs and downstairs was waiting for me to put on that robe and take my seat up there.”
Just as she finished speaking, the side door of the hall was pushed open.
A woman wearing an identical vermilion brocade robe stepped out from behind the door. Her figure was graceful and her eyes were alluring, but her facial expression was incredibly tense.
She walked to the base of the platform. Instead of rushing up, she first turned back to glance at the side door.
From behind the side door, another figure slowly strolled out.
That person was the real Hong Xiu.
She looked a few years younger, but the lazy, seductive charm in her eyes was already fully formed.
She wore a plain white undergarment with a pale lotus-root-colored beizi draped casually over it. Her hair was uncombed, loosely pinned at the back of her head.
She glanced at the vermilion brocade robe, then at the woman standing below the platform, and smiled.
“Put it on. It was meant for you anyway.”
The woman bit her lip. “...Are you really not going to fight for it?”
“Why bother fighting?”
The young Hong Xiu leaned against the doorframe and yawned.
“If you become the Courtesan Queen, some wealthy patron will surely redeem you tomorrow. If I become the Courtesan Queen, those old bastards will keep me in the Music Registry to squeeze me dry for another three years.”
“It's not worth it.”
The woman's fingers turned white as she clutched the brocade robe. After a brief silence, she turned and stepped onto the platform.
At that moment, the zither music swelled, and the cheers of the crowd surged like a tide.
The woman sat upon the red sandalwood chair, her vermilion brocade robe shimmering under the candlelight. She straightened her back and offered a dignified, proper smile.
Standing behind the side door, the young Hong Xiu stared at the woman's straight back for a moment before turning to leave.
Beside them, the expressionless Hong Xiu sneered coldly and said, “Her name is Lingge. She was a fool.”
As soon as she finished speaking, the surrounding Music Registry pavilion began to bleed like an ink painting soaked in water. The colors faded layer by layer, and the outlines blurred bit by bit.
The vermilion pillars turned into gray shadows, and the carved window lattices dissolved into blurry patches of color. The sound of the zither, the aroma of wine, and the scent of rouge all vanished into the void.
By the time everything stabilized again, Chen Zhou found himself standing in a bedroom.
The bedroom was small and simply furnished.
There was an alcove bed, a dressing table, and a half-open window.
Outside the window stood the old locust tree from the Music Registry's backyard, its branches stretching to the windowsill, rustling whenever the wind blew.
A person was sitting in front of the dressing table.
The young Hong Xiu was drawing her eyebrows before a bronze mirror.
A flurry of hurried footsteps echoed outside, followed by someone pounding on the door. “Miss Hong Xiu! Miss Hong Xiu! Something has happened!”
Without pausing her eyebrow brush or turning her head, Hong Xiu asked, “What is it?”
“Miss Lingge... Miss Lingge is coughing up blood! Please go and have a look!”
Hong Xiu drew the final stroke, put down the brush, and studied her seductive face in the bronze mirror before leisurely getting up to open the door.
A maidservant in a green robe stood outside, her face filled with panic. “Miss Lingge has been coughing up blood since last night. This morning, she was completely emaciated. I'm afraid... I'm afraid she won't make it!”
Hong Xiu let out a soft “Oh” and asked with feigned concern, “Have you called a doctor?”
“Yes, yes, we did! The doctor said... he said Miss Lingge's internal organs are completely ruined. She was poisoned with a slow-acting toxin...”
“And did the doctor say who poisoned her?”
The maidservant choked on her words, stammering for a long moment without daring to speak.
Hong Xiu smiled, bypassed her, and walked toward Lingge's room.
Lingge was the very woman who had worn the vermilion brocade robe onto the platform that day.
Only three months after being redeemed, her health had completely collapsed.
The official who redeemed her held some power in the provincial capital. His backyard was filled with wives and concubines, and he was a notoriously ruthless man.
Lingge had started getting beaten on her third day there, was put under house arrest on the fifth, and from the second month onward, no one ever saw her step outside again.
Hong Xiu had known all along that this would happen.
Having been sold to the Music Registry at a very young age, she knew the official's character better than anyone.
Her decision not to fight for the title of Courtesan Queen was partly because she couldn't be bothered to make the effort, and partly because she had deliberately yielded it to Lingge.
Lingge wanted to climb high. She was far too foolish, still harboring illusions about sweet nothings whispered in bed and solemn vows of eternal love. So, Hong Xiu let her climb.
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