Chapter 299: Extravagance

Chapter 299: Throwing Gold Like Dirt

Meng Wan ignored the gazes of the crowd. People stared because they weren't used to seeing him yet—the folks of Xiwu Prefecture had long gotten used to it, and the people of Heshan County even treated Meng Wan as an idol, with married couples and male-male couples alike copying their ways.

The mighty capital, so backward, was truly contemptible.

These people disdained Meng Wan's lack of propriety, little knowing that Meng Wan in turn found them too fussy.

"Wan'er, do you want this one?"

When it came to inner strength, Meng Wan truly couldn't match Song Tingzhou. Back when he was in the modern world, he'd been rather shy himself; it was only through years of doing business that he'd gotten to this point.

But Song Tingzhou was just someone with unshakable inner strength. Meng Wan sometimes thought that in modern society, there might be many people with a bit of cleverness like himself, but someone as inwardly strong as Song Tingzhou would surely be rare.

His beloved would be a force to be reckoned with anywhere.

"Wan'er?" Song Tingzhou called again, holding up the item in his hand when he saw Meng Wan lost in thought.

Meng Wan snapped out of it and took the thing from him, asking curiously, "What is this?"

It was a figurine the size of a palm, wearing a purple-gold crown and a cyan robe. Its facial features, hands, and feet were all small and delicate, its pose incredibly lifelike.

Meng Wan was utterly astonished. Holding it in his hand and examining it, he discovered the doll's clothes were surprisingly made of silk and gauze, and the crown on its head could surprisingly be removed and put back on.

This fashionable?

A Barbie doll from ancient times?

The vendor was an old man who had already reached sixty, plainly dressed but the fabric of his clothes was excellent. He was healthy and spirited, with a ruddy complexion. He smiled and introduced it to Meng Wan, "Young master, you haven't seen these before? These are silk figurines. The one in your hand takes a full month to make."

Meng Wan raised an eyebrow slightly—the time it took proved its value.

Sure enough, the old man's next words were, "The one in your hand costs thirty taels of silver."

Meng Wan immediately set it back down. He didn't like playing with dolls anyway, and something like this costing thirty taels—more expensive than the fruit preserve jars from his workshop—and it couldn't be eaten or put to any use.

He turned around decisively, only to spot A Yan, who had somehow darted over and was clinging to Song Tingzhou's leg, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

Song Tingzhou let out a light cough. "Wan'er, how about buying one for A Yan to play with?"

"Go ahead and pick one, and Tong'er, you pick one too," Meng Wan said helplessly.

When Song Tingzhou spoke, Meng Wan generally wouldn't refuse, and A Yan knew exactly which father to turn to when it mattered.

"Yay!" A Yan cheered.

There were fifteen or sixteen dolls in total laid out on the stall. A Yan immediately reached for the most lavishly dressed one—a flying celestial maiden. Tong'er, meanwhile, picked up a young gentleman in white brocade performing swordplay. He thought it looked just like his father, except the clothes were the wrong color.

The one Tong'er chose was the same simple design as the one Meng Wan had looked at earlier—the old man said thirty taels each. But A Yan's pick was something else entirely: ninety taels, one worth three of the others.

The Song family had never deliberately scrimped, especially on clothes and bedding. Meng Wan loved buying fine fabrics because they were indeed comfortable, and beyond that, there were no major expenses. Chang Jinhua was unwilling to spend, and neither Song Tingzhou nor Meng Wan had a particularly strong urge to shop.

Well, great—so all that money had been saved up for this little rascal!

Two dolls cost a hundred and twenty taels. Word had it that some young ladies and gentlemen of noble families even commissioned custom silk figurines, which were even more expensive—a full outfit costing seven or eight taels.

Meng Wan: "..."

This was indeed the capital, with astonishing spending power. If Song Tingzhou weren't a capital official... well, never mind. Even if he were, Meng Wan wouldn't want to do something like this.

Money was a good thing—no matter how much you earned, there was always more to earn, but greed would lead to utter ruin, like those who consumed mermaid pearls, their greed a bottomless pit.

"I hear each floor of your establishment has three top performers. I'll also take six dancers and four singers."

Meng Wan stood at the entrance of Tingxiang Pavilion, staring eye-to-eye with the brothel doorman.

The doorman still remembered Song Tingzhou. He looked at Song Tingzhou with utter disbelief.

Last time you came to a brothel alone to buy melon seeds, that was one thing. Now you're bringing your husband along?

He'd worked at Tingxiang Pavilion for twenty years and had never heard of anyone bringing their husband to a brothel!

Meng Wan stood with his back to the sun, the light gray fur trim of his hood framing his fair, luminous face. His expression wasn't like the typical young men of the capital who lowered their heads and averted their eyes at the sight of strangers—instead, it carried a shrewd, efficient air, his gaze clear and with a hint of sharpness. "What are you staring at my husband for? Does Tingxiang Pavilion not want to make money?"

"Make money? How could we not?" The doorman's eyes swept toward Song Tingzhou.

Song Tingzhou stepped back half a step. "All the funds are with my husband."

The corner of the doorman's eye twitched. "Then... please, come inside?" He trailed off mid-sentence when he noticed the two kids behind them. This was really over the top.

Meng Wan stood right at the grand entrance of Tingxiang Pavilion. "How could a married man like me just walk into a brothel? If people found out, wouldn't they talk behind my back?"

You're worried about people talking, yet you came to a brothel?

And you brought the kids!!!

Over the years, Tingxiang Pavilion had encountered wealthy patrons with peculiar preferences, but this was a first of its kind.

"Then what do you want to do? Shall we send them to your residence?" The doorman was used to this kind of shady business—wrapping the young male and female entertainers of the establishment in blankets and slipping them through the side doors of clients' homes.

Meng Wan shook his head, then pointed at the tables and chairs in the courtyard. "Isn't there plenty of open space in the courtyard? Move one set of those tables and chairs over here. I'll just take a look from the entrance—that way no one can say anything about it."

The doorman: "..."

If you want to come in, just come in quietly. Making such a big show means everyone will see!

Besides, Tingxiang Pavilion was a well-respected brothel in the capital, connected to powerful figures. Why should they be ordered around by some young man...

The doorman's eyes followed the gold ingot in Meng Wan's hand. Not ten taels of silver, not a hundred-tael banknote—that was gold!

Meng Wan slammed a heavy pouch of gold onto the table in front of the doorman. "Are you the one in charge? If not, go fetch someone who can make decisions."

In the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, several madams and senior matrons of Tingxiang Pavilion had arrived.

They had all seen the world. Meng Wan's gold was substantial—they were truly covetous—but they suspected he was more likely here to make trouble.

The matron who had spoken with Song Tingzhou yesterday clearly held a higher position than the two madams from Tinglan Tower. She stepped forward and said, "Young master, the men and women of our establishment can only perform and receive guests inside the building. That's the rule of Tingxiang Pavilion. Even if you throw down a thousand gold, we wouldn't dare break the Master's rules. Please don't make things difficult for us."

Meng Wan said nothing. He pulled out another pouch, withdrew a stack of banknotes from it, and counted them one by one in front of the madams, matrons, doorman, and the curious onlookers outside Tingxiang Pavilion. "One hundred taels, two hundred, three hundred... one thousand four hundred. Oh dear, I only brought this much. Xue Sheng, go home and fetch another thousand taels."

The sound of swallowing followed one after another. No one present could see that many banknotes without their hearts racing. Even the most extravagant patrons of brothels rarely spent more than five hundred taels, and most of that was on credit. Who actually carried a thousand taels in notes to a brothel?!

"Um, young master, how about this: I'll have all our girls and young men come out to the courtyard to entertain everyone. All the top performers will be sent to the flower boat to dance for you. You don't have to freeze out here—let's go up to the second floor. There are private rooms with fine wine and dishes. We'll make sure you're waited on hand and foot!"

The madams exchanged hurried glances and whispered among themselves before the same matron spoke again.

Meng Wan fanned himself with the banknotes like a folding fan. "That'll do, I suppose. Skip the fine wine and dishes—I don't care for your establishment's food and drink. Just bring up two plates of peanuts and melon seeds. We'll only stay a short while. And don't let anyone with bad eyes in during that time, lest they sully my sight."

"Very well. Please, come in."

Money talks—whoever pays is king. As they were ushered inside, a couple of johns still tangled up in the pleasure quarters were shown out.

The girls and young men, who'd been up all night and dragged into work, had to plaster on fake smiles to schmooze the big shots. Then they saw a handsome young husband smiling at them, and he passed out two banknotes and two little gold ingots to each of them, the ingots stamped with the usual "fortune" character.

"Thanks for the hard work, everyone." Meng Wan's smile seemed to charm the soul right out of them. The six leading courtesans standing at the front paused for a moment before bowing in flustered, grateful respect. "Thank you, young sir... er, I mean, thank you, honored husband."

Meng Wan didn't look down on them, sitting upstairs and genuinely taking in the graceful dances and music.

He'd never been to a brothel before. Whether the madams had drilled them or Tingxiang Pavilion was just classy by nature, there was nothing suggestive about the dancers' moves. Instead, their postures were elegant, smooth as flowing water, a real treat to watch.

"Dad, I want to learn to dance like them!" A Yan said, his eyes sparkling.

In Xiwu Prefecture, all he'd seen were operas and acrobatics—he'd never seen dancing that graceful!

Meng Wan was speechless.

Song Tingzhou was speechless.

Tong'er broke the awkward silence. "Brother A Yan, their dancing is all that soft, wimpy stuff—what's the fun in that? Why don't you learn swordplay with my father? When he comes back, we can all learn together."

"How do you dance with a sword?" A Yan said with little interest. He still preferred watching the pretty boys and girls dance.

Meng Wan looked speechlessly at A Yan, who was hugging the little Jiangren doll, dreaming of getting on that boat to learn dancing from the performers. Finally at his limit, he jabbed Song Tingzhou with his elbow.

Song Tingzhou rested his forehead on one hand. "When spring warms up next year, Wu Zhao Yuan's father-in-law will come to the capital. We'll go pay him a visit then and ask him to teach A Yan and Tong'er."

Wu Zhao Yuan's father-in-law was a great scholar from Jiangnan. His scholarship went without saying, but more importantly, he was strict and morally upright—just the right person to rein in a kid with A Yan's scatterbrained ways.

"For the first time, I feel the days are so long. I really want to pack Song Yan off to school right now." Meng Wan lamented. It's only because A Yan's too young for the official academy and private tutors are hit-or-miss that he hasn't been sent yet.

The big fuss at Tingxiang Pavilion drew a crowd, putting this mysterious brothel—famous in the trade but looked down on by regular folks—on display.

Meng Wan and Song Tingzhou sat there calmly, enjoying the dance and music, but inside Tingxiang Pavilion, someone was getting antsy.

"Master Meng, I've heard so much about you." A real stunner slowly pushed open the door to Meng Wan's private room.

She looked about twenty, right in her prime. She wore a goose-yellow brocade robe and a spotless white fox-fur cloak, and moved with a graceful, alluring sway that silently drew every man's eye.

Unfortunately, Song Tingzhou didn't even blink. A Yan, though, lit up.

This lady was gorgeous—even prettier than the dancers on the boat.

The woman sighed inside at the wasted effort, but a pleasant smile spread across her face. "I beg the honored husband to have pity on my brothers and sisters out there. In this bitter cold, they're made to break the ice and dance on the boat. Please let them come in before they freeze."

"You know me?" Meng Wan caught the tone in her voice—she'd said his title without a beat of hesitation, so she'd definitely done her homework on him.

He smiled back. "The boss of Tingxiang Pavilion came to sweet-talk me in person. I was just about to send a madam to fetch them up."

Meng Wan wasn't that heartless. Sure, there were charcoal braziers on the boat, but it was still cold and risky. He and Song Tingzhou wouldn't force those innocent people to keep dancing on the boat just to smoke someone out.

"Fuyin thanks the honored husband for his kindness." The beauty bowed in gratitude.

Meng Wan invited her to sit. "So you're Fuyin? Which 'fu' and which 'yin' is that?"

"'Fu' as in drifting on the wind and waves, 'yin' as in a voice hidden in the clouds of Wu Gorge." Fuyin smiled softly. With that big gold peony hairpin in her hair, she looked like a hundred flowers blooming in midwinter—stunning.

But her flashy, dazzling look didn't fit such a sad, beautiful name.

Meng Wan looked impressed. "What a lovely name. I feel like we're old friends already. Mind if I ask you for something?"

Fuyin covered her mouth with a laugh. "Honored Husband Meng is quite the character. I'm just a woman of the world—what could I possibly offer you?"

They both knew the score; pretending any longer was just wasting time. Meng Wan turned and said seriously to Fuyin, "I know the whereabouts of Guo Qixiu's son from Jipo Island. I'd like to trade that for something of yours, young lady. So, you willing to trade or not?"

Fuyin's smile froze for a second before she pulled herself together. "Does the honored husband think some unsubstantiated rumor can buy anything from me?"

Meng Wan was utterly shameless. "So you don't want to know? That's fine. Jipo Island's all broken up anyway, Guo Qixiu's dead, and his son's just a kid—what useful info could he have? Your boss must be someone with serious power. Even if it got out, they wouldn't care about a little stain, right?"

Fuyin sucked in a sharp breath. After just a moment's hesitation, she made up her mind. "No need to keep testing me. Fuyin agrees to your terms, but there's one thing I ask."

Meng Wan gave Song Tingzhou's hand a little scratch—done deal.

Song Tingzhou squeezed his hand back, keeping him from stirring up more trouble.

Meng Wan rested his chin on his other hand, looking intrigued. "Go on."

"Fuyin wants one of the honored husband's paintings."

After seeing those two troublemakers off, the smile on Fuyin's face slowly faded.

The madam asked carefully, "Boss, the kids are tired, and today's patron tipped generously. Why not close up and rest for a day?"

Fuyin's voice was ice-cold. "Rest? What is this, an honest business? Collect all the gold and silver. We open at the usual hour, like always."

"Yes." The madam didn't dare argue and slipped out quietly.

After she left, Fuyin hurried back to the secret building and pushed open a hidden door on the ground floor. Inside, a figure stood perfectly still, as if watching someone or lost in thought.

"Got you cornered?" A low, husky voice with a hint of charm came from the figure.

Only then did a flicker of defeat cross Fuyin's face. "No wonder. Yesterday, that Song fellow was just testing the waters, and today he forced me out. You were right—that pair is no pushover. Do they truly serve the Crown Prince? But Song Tingzhou hasn't exactly been buddy-buddy with the Crown Prince's faction since he hit the capital."

Yan sighed. "Probably not close to any faction, huh? Hard to figure out."

"By the way, why do you want his husband's painting? I heard he's Xiang Yun's top disciple, but his few works are all locked up in the palace. Don't tell me you're a fan of his art?" Fuyin's words were a subtle test.

Yan turned and walked deeper into the hidden passage, his voice, a bit rough, echoing down the hall.

"Admire? Something like that."