Chapter 121: Hosting a Dinner

At the Jiuyao Pavilion, the beauties were filled with envy as they watched Wangyou take in yet another handsome young man. In their line of work, they knew that a man worth having was a rare prize. Their standards for a "good man" were far removed from those of ordinary people, but they possessed a sharp eye for what they desired.

Though envious, they knew their boundaries. Wangyou was the pavilion’s top attraction, and she was not someone to be crossed. Moreover, she had always treated them well. If they couldn’t have the main course, they could at least enjoy the broth, so why not celebrate together?

Su He ignored their whispers and sidelong glances. He observed Wangyou, who remained slightly bowed, seemingly indifferent to the commotion, as if she were well-accustomed to this environment. Wangyou led him into her private quarters and instructed Xing’er to guard the door, warning her not to let any unruly patrons disturb them. Xing’er complied, determined to ensure no one ruined her mistress’s good fortune.

As the top star of the house, Wangyou’s room was always stocked with delicacies, as if everything had been prepared in advance. She invited Su He to sit, pouring his wine and serving him food with graceful, measured hospitality. She maintained a delicate distance. When the wine had reached a mellow warmth, she rose and sat before a zither, her voice as soft as a spring breeze: "Let me play a melody for you, sir."

Su He closed his eyes to listen. The music was like a flowing stream, clear and melodic, soothing the soul and washing away all sorrow.

"May I ask your name, sir?"

"I am Su He, with the surname Baili," he replied, his eyes opening slightly. "Lady Wangyou, are you from Yuhaitian? Why have you drifted to such a place?"

Wangyou paused, then resumed playing, the notes resonating deeply. "Perhaps so."

Su He opened his eyes wide. "Oh? How so?"

"I will not hide it from you, sir. I was rescued by the Madam, and only then did I enter this life of flowers and willow." She sighed softly, and the zither melody turned mournful and pleading.

She played beautifully—wistful yet poised. There was no bitterness about her circumstances, only a sense of calm acceptance. It was impossible not to feel a sense of respect for her; she was not to be treated as a common courtesan.

"I see," Su He nodded, listening to the music while probing further. "I imagine 'Wangyou' is not your real name. May I ask what it is? I know it is presumptuous, but you remind me greatly of an old friend."

Wangyou cast a sharp, darting look at him. "Oh? Is she your beloved?"

"This..."

"Can you not say?"

"That is not the case."

"Then what is?" Wangyou seemed curious, determined to draw out his true thoughts, though it appeared to be mere idle interest. Su He was momentarily lost in thought—who exactly was she? Seeing her intense, intrigued gaze, he knew he could not avoid the question. A shadow of sorrow crossed his brow.

"It is a long story. We were bound by a thousand tangled threads, but she killed my younger brother. Thus, I do not know how to answer you."

Wangyou pressed her hands onto the strings, silencing the music abruptly. She rose and sat beside Su He to pour him more wine. "So, you are a man of deep feeling, and also a man of deep sorrow." She set the flagon down and spoke with self-pity. "In truth, when I was rescued and woke, I had no memory of my past. I only knew that I was called Xiyuan."

She lowered her head, hiding her face behind her sleeve, and sighed.

Su He’s eyes contracted sharply. How could it be such a coincidence? That there could be someone in this world with the exact same face and the exact same name. The only difference was her temperament—and her aura. Yet, she seemed entirely unaware.

She continued, "At the time, the Madam feared I was being hunted by enemies, so we fled here. To ensure my safety, she named me Wangyou. I was so grateful for her kindness, and having nowhere else to go, I repaid her with this humble body."

She looked up. Seeing Su He silent, she asked with a charming smile, "Do you look down on me for this, sir?" Her gaze was as clear and pure as a child’s, as if it could peer into one’s very soul.

Su He was stunned for a moment before regaining his composure. "How could I? I trust your character, my lady."

Wangyou was delighted and raised her cup. "I am honored by your acceptance, sir. I offer you this toast." She drank it all in one go. Su He followed suit, saying, "To you."

Feeling the time had come, Su He prepared to leave. "I have been out for long enough; I shall not intrude further."

Wangyou did not insist on him staying. "I will see you out." As she rose, she gave a look to Xing’er at the door, who tactfully withdrew.

Wangyou turned to Su He. "Please." As they descended the stairs and reached the counter, she stopped him. "You helped me today, and because of you, I was not harmed. Let me treat you this time."

"That will not do."

"Why not? If you have the heart, you can treat me next time. Unless... you do not consider a woman like me a friend?" She turned and left. As she reached the stairs, she glanced back, covering a giggle with her sleeve. She was incredibly charming, possessing a thousand different moods. The surrounding patrons watched, captivated. They whispered that Su He was truly blessed to have caught the attention of Lady Wangyou. In all the time she had been famous, no one had ever received such treatment.

Su He smiled faintly, nodded to the crowd, and pushed through the throng to exit the Jiuyao Pavilion.

As soon as Wangyou returned to her room, she sensed an intruder. Frowning, she spoke coldly: "Come out."

From behind the bed curtains, a man slowly emerged—it was Lin Mao.

As it happened, Lin Mao had fled the Liuxin Study and, while running blindly, had stumbled upon Wangyou near the capital. A single glance from afar had rekindled his old desires. He knew she belonged to the Demon Child, and he had once been one of them, too. But he was a lone wolf now, with nothing to lose. Su He was alive, and the Demon Child was too distracted to deal with him. He had followed her, learned where she stayed, and proceeded with his usual routine of winning a woman's heart. He believed he had succeeded, unaware that the beauty had allowed it to happen.

Wangyou knew Lin Mao was suspicious by nature and incapable of true devotion. Such a man could endure poverty together, but never prosperity. Whoever trusted him would be the next one under his blade. Just like herself, and her short-lived daughter. That child had inherited her mother’s capacity for love and obsession; she was perfect in every way, except that she listened too well to her parents. Even when told to marry the Goddess statue and be sacrificed, she obeyed.

Wangyou knew she was no good mother—she was an executioner. But she would not continue down that path. The Demon Child and his ilk were wicked and deserved to die, but Lin Mao was the primary culprit. He was the one who had destroyed her and her daughter. In the past, she had been forced to endure and wait for revenge. Now that he had delivered himself to her doorstep, she would have no mercy.

Lin Mao could not understand Wangyou, yet he was desperately unable to let her go. Confronted by her, he was like a man possessed. Once he had tasted her, he could never forget. Even as his face turned ashen with rage, he wanted her explanation. "Why?"

Wangyou curled her lips and shut the door. She tossed her outer garment to the floor, her shapely shoulders shimmering with a seductive luster. She slithered toward the bed, kicked off her embroidered shoes, and lay down, looking at Lin Mao with a mocking smile. "What? Are you angry?"

"When you pushed me onto the Bridge of Solitude, you didn't hesitate for a moment. Do you know how terrified I was then? How desperate I felt in that dark prison? Hmph, you know nothing."

Lin Mao stepped to the bed, furious. "Didn't you say you were only playing a part with others, and that I was the only man destined for you?"

His rage was like a caged beast, stifling and oppressive, but it brought Wangyou joy. The more he suffered, the happier she became. Women were peculiar creatures; they would guard their chastity with their lives if they still had love to give. But once that love was gone, there was no need for such guards. Once she let go, there was nothing she would not do.

Wangyou was Wangyou, yet she was not. But Lin Mao was still Lin Mao. As she looked at him, her eyes burned with desire, flickering like flames, teasing his heart. She asked with a decadent, fragrant allure: "Do you... not want me?"

Lin Mao lunged like a bull. Of course, he wanted her. He wanted her body and soul to belong to him, because he had never experienced such defeat with any woman. The only woman he had truly loved did not care for him. It made him feel like a failure.

Wangyou laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck. They tumbled onto the bed, and Lin Mao, gaining the upper hand, let the curtains fall, shielding the room from view. How intense the process was, no one knew. All that was certain was that the door remained closed from that afternoon until the next morning. Even when Xing’er brought dinner to the door several times, she received no response. Pressing her ear to the door, the young girl blushed and never dared to disturb them again.

In the dead of night, Wangyou pushed the sleeping Lin Mao aside, wiped herself clean of his filth, and donned a night-suit. Transforming into a tiny black insect, she slipped through a crack and out of the Jiuyao Pavilion.

This movement gave those who had been ordered to watch her a new lead. Qin Mo emerged from the shadows and signaled his men to follow carefully. But they underestimated a woman’s vigilance and attention to detail. Before long, she scattered her small insect form in all directions. Even with the number of men Qin Mo had, they lost her trail within three miles.

"Moon Envoy, should we continue the pursuit?" a dozen men in black gathered around him.

Qin Mo looked at the desolate wilderness and finally withdrew his gaze. "Let’s go. We’ve lost her trail, and we’ve likely alerted the enemy. Tell the others to pull back. Keep your heads down and stay out of trouble—if you lose your lives, don't blame me for not warning you."

He waved his hand. "Let’s move."

"Yes."

In an instant, the group vanished into the night.