Chapter Forty-Two: A Battle of Wits and Courage

If Prince Qi Li Jingsui’s arrival shocked the crowd and made them believe that Yang Lian was someone highly regarded by the court, then the appearance of Zeng Yiling left everyone feeling that Yang Lian was far from ordinary—extraordinarily so. It was one thing for him to serve in the court and be associated with Prince Qi, but to also have ties with the famed head courtesan of Xiaoxiang Pavilion, the renowned Zeng Yiling of Jinling, was truly astonishing. Such a person must be exceptionally well-connected; otherwise, why would people from all walks of life gather here today?

Yang Lian himself was initially taken aback, but he quickly composed himself. He cupped his hands toward Li Jingsui, apologizing for his rudeness, and then approached Zeng Yiling with a smile. “Miss Zeng, your presence truly graces this humble establishment. Please forgive my earlier discourtesy.”

Zeng Yiling smiled softly, her voice as melodious as ever. “If not for Lian’er receiving your flyer on the street, I would have remained in the dark. Master Yang, do I truly inspire such aversion?”

Though she chided him, her voice was so pleasant that it was impossible to take offense.

As this was Yang Lian’s opening day, he had no wish to stir up trouble. Besides, Zeng Yiling had come with good intentions—how could he turn her away? He laughed, “Miss Zeng, your artistry is peerless in Jinling; you are the dream of countless men. How could I possibly dislike you?”

Zeng Yiling cast him a glance with her limpid autumn eyes and laughed, “Master Yang, you certainly have a way with words.” Though it was the first time she’d heard the phrase “dream of countless men,” she was no fool and easily understood his meaning.

At that moment, Chen Tie called out, “The auspicious hour is nearly upon us—enough banter.”

Though Yang Lian was known for his unrestrained nature and had teased Mi Shiwei before, he found Zeng Yiling far more inscrutable. Compared to her, Mi Shiwei’s character was pure—like a lotus blooming unstained in a mountain pond. Zeng Yiling, on the other hand, even if not malicious, was certainly shrewd and resourceful. After all, given her background, she must possess her share of skills.

Yang Lian smiled, “Pay no mind to Chen Tie’s bluntness, Miss Zeng. I beg your pardon.”

At his words, Zeng Yiling’s eyes seemed to glisten with unshed tears. “What, am I not worthy of Master Yang’s attention? Or is it my appearance that displeases you?”

Yang Lian’s head began to ache—Zeng Yiling was clearly not one to be trifled with. He’d need to stay on his guard. Though wary in his heart, he replied with a smile, “Miss Zeng, your artistry reigns supreme in Jinling. It is a pity I have yet to see your true face.” Rather than retreat, he pressed forward, curious to see how she would respond.

Zeng Yiling smiled faintly. “Today marks your grand opening, and you have generously gifted me two musical scores. How could I keep my true face from you?” With that, she raised her slender hands, removed her veiled hat, and revealed a smooth, fair forehead. She wore only the lightest touch of makeup; her delicate brows were long and fine, and beneath them shone a pair of brilliant, expressive eyes, seeming almost to speak.

Yang Lian’s heart gave a jolt. Zeng Yiling was clearly here with a purpose, though her true intent eluded him.

Her slender hands moved again as she drew aside her white gauze, revealing a lovely, unadorned face—so fresh that powder would seem too pale and rouge too garish. Not far away, Princess Huairou could not help but mutter, “Truly a seductress.”

For many present, it was their first time seeing Zeng Yiling unveiled. No one expected her to remove both hat and veil on such a day, revealing her face to all. Many in the crowd stared, momentarily forgetting to breathe. Even Prince Qi Li Jingsui was briefly entranced. Lin Renzhao and Chen Tie were similarly spellbound, while Princess Huairou merely glanced over with vexation—these men, she thought, all lost their senses at the sight of beauty.

Yang Lian’s pupils contracted sharply. In his memory, a vague figure overlapped with Zeng Yiling’s features. She bore a resemblance to someone, yet seemed different. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, he smiled, “Miss Zeng, even the famed Luo Fu of antiquity would pale beside you. Perhaps you should put your veil back on, or I fear my establishment won’t be able to do business today.”

Zeng Yiling laughed, her eyes brimming with charm. “As you command, Master Yang.” She slowly replaced her veil and hat.

“This way, Miss Zeng,” Yang Lian said, gesturing politely.

Zeng Yiling nodded and, moving with the grace of a lotus, approached Li Jingsui. She curtsied, “Yiling pays her respects to Your Highness, Prince Qi.”

Li Jingsui seemed to awaken from a dream and hurriedly replied, “Miss Zeng, there’s no need for such ceremony.” Then, unable to resist, he asked, “Miss Zeng, is Zeng truly your surname?”

A flicker of surprise crossed Zeng Yiling’s eyes, but she smiled, “Your Highness jests. It is indeed my surname.”

The bystanders looked at Li Jingsui as though he were mad. Though his question had a deeper meaning, to outsiders it seemed utterly absurd. He could only nod and force a laugh.

Yang Lian hurried over, smiling. “Your Highness, Miss Zeng, the auspicious hour has arrived. If you do not object, how about the two of you cut the ribbon together?” Fearing Zeng Yiling might not understand, he quickly explained the custom.

Zeng Yiling nodded, smiling. “If His Highness does not mind, I have no objection.”

Li Jingsui agreed instantly, “I have no objection either.”

And so, the ribbon-cutting commenced. Much like in later times, after the ribbon was cut, Xiao Erhei set off two strings of firecrackers, drawing an even larger crowd. Yang Lian was pleased—the grand opening was a success. His gaze swept the crowd and lingered briefly on Zeng Yiling; she happened to be looking at him as well, and they exchanged subtle smiles. Yet their thoughts could not have been more different.

Princess Huairou noticed and could not help but grouse inwardly. That Zeng Yiling truly was a fox spirit, stealing the hearts of so many men. And Yang Lian, whom she had thought upright and above such things, had let his mask slip today.

Among the crowd, Li Hongji watched coldly. Soon, a bodyguard returned to whisper in his ear. It was big news in Jinling that Yang Lian had swiftly purchased both an inn and a tavern, and many knew that Li Shu had brought ruffians to cause trouble earlier. Some only knew half the story, and as rumors spread, the tale grew more twisted.

Li Hongji listened, unable to suppress a cold laugh. He’d heard that Yang Lian relied on Prince Qi’s influence to seize his property by force. Having learned the general outline of Yang Lian’s background, Li Hongji had several doubts: Yang claimed to be from Guanzhong but had appeared in Wu and Yue territory near Suzhou, with little record of his past. Moreover, Princess Huairou’s abduction by Wu and Yue assassins had coincided suspiciously with Yang Lian’s appearance. Li Hongji could not help but suspect that Yang Lian was playing both sides, perhaps even orchestrating the events at Henglin Town in Changzhou.

Could this Yang Lian be an agent sent by Wu and Yue to foment chaos? The thought flashed through Li Hongji’s mind. He whispered, “Pass the word to the Wolf Squad—have them investigate thoroughly.” With Yang Lian’s mysterious background and Prince Qi’s support, Li Hongji would not move against him for now.

The bodyguard assented and hurried off. Li Hongji observed as Yang Lian finished the ribbon-cutting and guests began to ascend to the restaurant. Fearing recognition, he slipped away quickly.

The restaurant’s decor was sumptuous. Yang Lian had acquired both the second and third floors, converting them into private rooms. From the third floor, one could gaze out and take in the full splendor of the Qinhuai River. Prince Qi and Princess Huairou sat in the Peach Blossom Hall, while Zeng Yiling and her maid enjoyed themselves in the Lotus Hall.

Huang Qi and his wife were kept busy from dawn to dusk, but thanks to Yang Lian’s foresight in hiring extra help—and with Wang Hu and Zhao Peng pitching in—they just managed to keep up. Xiao Erhei was assigned to attend Prince Qi, standing ready at the door for any command.

Yang Lian offered a fifty percent discount, and business was brisk all morning. Many literati, having heard that Zeng Yiling was present, flocked to the restaurant, filling all the private rooms on the upper floors—and still the demand exceeded supply. Yang Lian chuckled to himself, thinking that if business were always so good, life would be perfect.

Li Xiongxin and his son Li Shu came to help. Li Xiongxin, neighbor to the restaurant, was dumbfounded. He knew full well how poor Huang Qi’s business had been, but with a change of owner and a few clever tactics, the place was now thriving—his heart raced with anxiety.

Still, he assumed business would slow in the afternoon, but again he was mistaken. When Zeng Yiling offered to play the zither, the atmosphere reached a fever pitch. More scholars and gentlemen arrived, many content just to stand at the door, listening entranced to her music.

It was not until the Xu hour, as night fell and curfew approached, that Prince Qi and Princess Huairou took their leave, followed soon after by Zeng Yiling. Before departing, she teased, “Master Yang, with such flourishing business, will you not share half your profits with me?”

Yang Lian smiled, recognizing her jest. Watching as Zeng Yiling walked away, her eyes bright behind her tasseled veil, he suddenly said, “If you were to marry me, Miss Zeng, not half, but all would be yours.”

“Master Yang jests. With your character, could you truly marry a woman of the brothels?” She leaned in so close that Yang Lian could hear his own heart pounding. Smiling, she added, “I think the princess is quite taken with you.”

“Miss Zeng, speak carefully. The princess is of noble birth, and I am but a mere warrior—not her equal,” Yang Lian replied with a gentle smile.

“In the end, all will be revealed. I only hope you will not forget your true self, Master Yang. Do not forsake the old for the new.” With that, Zeng Yiling smiled, rose gracefully, and left.

Yang Lian stood in a daze, watching her retreating figure. He called Chen Tie over and asked, “Brother Chen, what is Zeng Yiling’s true background?”

Chen Tie was equally at a loss. After a moment, he replied, “What background could she have? She’s just a performer promoted by Xiaoxiang Pavilion.” Even though Chen Tie regarded her as unattainable, he still considered her nothing more than a courtesan. But Yang Lian sensed things were far more complicated than they appeared.