Chapter 423 Chaos

Chapter 423: Chaos

Meng Wan was awakened from sleep, rubbing his eyes. A thin apricot-yellow blanket lay over him, likely retrieved by Chi Yu—the fabric was exceptionally soft, smooth to the touch, and so fine it would slide off paper the instant it touched it.

"My lord, they've started beating the gong below." Chi Yu stood by the window, which was pushed open. The window frame had screens on both sides, blocking any angled view from the sides into their room, and the view directly opposite was too far to make out clearly.

Some people below would sneak glances up at the private pavilions, but their line of sight was blocked by the parapet wall and low railing, and they'd reluctantly look away.

Meng Wan sat up from the soft couch, feeling the thin blanket a few times. "The Luo family really does have good things. When I have the time, I should buy some fine fabrics from the Lin'an and Suzhou area to bring back to Shengjing."

Ge Quan stood guard at the door, listening to the commotion outside. Without turning his head, he said, "Get some for our household too while you're at it."

"No problem." Meng Wan agreed readily.

He moved to the window and looked down together with Chi Yu. Below, a white-mask person carrying a gong circled the platform once and stepped back, followed by the sound of bells, drums, and strings rising from the ground floor, echoing throughout the palace.

Forty to fifty dancers in white silk robes filed out in a line, keeping time with the drumbeats, their steps light and graceful, their walk carrying a unique charm of its own. Even with the eerie white masks hiding their true faces, their specially trained bearing alone was remarkably captivating.

Everyone's attention was drawn to them. When the dance concluded, Sixth Great-Uncle appeared on the jade platform with the female guard from before.

"Dear friends old and new—whether you've visited You City before or been invited in for the first time by a close friend—you likely have a general sense of You City's rules by now. The auction is about to begin, so if you'll indulge me, allow me to go over a few things once more."

The ways ordinary people got into You City were all over the map—some lured in by malicious gamblers, some actively seeking a way in to make it big, and still others rounded up periodically by You City's pink-mask people to be trained at You Er.

The Luo family had connections across all walks of life in the outside world, threading through both the straight and crooked paths, their network so deeply entrenched it reached into every corner of every industry. This far-reaching influence provided solid cover for You City's existence.

For common folk, getting in was easy but getting out was hard; for the elite, it was the reverse—the latter relying on the Luo family's proactive recruitment after vetting, or introductions from friends.

Only the mid-tier minor officials and wealthy merchants were caught in between, trembling in their boots. Some sought to curry favor with their higher-ups but found no way in; others had landed in deep trouble and desperately sought refuge.

The minor officials offered protection to the lowly, and the rich merchants offered money. They stood above the common folk, fulfilling demands that seemed as hard as reaching the sky, then conveyed their own requests to You City.

The upper-class guests invited to You City indulged in its decadent, lawless excesses—the wine, women, and song offered by the lower class, and their last and most valuable asset: their flesh. They didn't mind casually helping a few minor officials who pleased their eye resolve some insignificant "little troubles" while enjoying themselves. And since these elite guests all wanted something from the Luo family, it formed a perfect closed loop.

You City had three levels, each with its specific function. You San was where the middle class got their chances and the upper class got their kicks.

"...You all understand the rules above. I won't waste more words—please accept You City's opening gift." Third Great-Uncle gave a booming laugh, and as he took his leave, he deliberately glanced toward Meng Wan's private pavilion.

Meng Wan narrowed his eyes watching him leave, unable to discern for the moment what angle this old fox was working.

"Master, there's someone outside. Should I let them in?" Sixty-six's voice sounded from outside.

Third Great-Uncle's so-called opening gift? That was quick.

"Come in."

To be safe, Ge Quan had put his mask back on. Meng Wan and Chi Yu had no such concern, their faces bare as the door swung open, their expressions night and day.

Meng Wan's mouth twitched slightly at the sight of the row of tall, handsome hunks filing in.

Beside him, Chi Yu stood protectively in front of Meng Wan as if bracing for battle. "Scram, all of you!"

These white-mask people had assumed they'd be serving a master with special kinks, never expecting to find in the pavilion a... husband with features so strikingly vivid they dazzled the eyes. For a moment, their steps stumbled to a halt.

Seventeen and Sixty-six, peering in from outside and catching sight of Meng Wan's appearance, also did a double take. But Sixty-six reacted quickly—before Chi Yu could blow his top, he grabbed the nearest man and dragged him out. "The master doesn't need your service. Get out now."

He shooed them away, and Seventeen had already closed the door again.

The two stood at the door exchanging glances at the shut panels. After a long moment, Sixty-six suddenly glanced at Seventeen's crotch and whispered, "With an endowment like yours, why not go serve the master? It's not like you'd be at a loss... Forgive me, Master—this servant misspoke!"

A jade chopstick shot past from behind Sixty-six, grazing just below his ear, shattering the mask on his face in one strike before embedding itself into a pillar three meters ahead of him.

Seventeen stared at the small round hole in the door panel, his pupils constricting sharply.

Sixty-six dropped to his knees with a thud, his delicate, fair face twisted in terror—his fear of death utterly genuine, not just of Meng Wan, but of You City itself.

In You City, those without masks had only one identity: corpses destined for the Hundred Medicine Tower.

If Meng Wan didn't want him, Sixty-six's only fate was death.

Inside the room, Ge Quan withdrew his hand. "Kids—too easily frightened."

"Even adults and old men would be frightened by a scare like that from you." Meng Wan shot back, then turned his gaze to the first "item" being presented on the jade platform below—a child locked in an iron cage.

Dressed in white, about eight or nine years old—around the same age as A Yan.

Meng Wan's relaxed expression vanished, his lips pressing into a thin line.

He should have expected this. From the younger siblings of He Niang and others to the merpeople of Ji Po Island, the Luo family appeared kind and mutually beneficial in the eyes of the upper class, but they had been steadily testing people's boundaries all along.

The child was auctioned off as an item, and then a fine painting was unfurled on the jade platform. The white-mask person numbered You Yi clearly held a special status—she pointed to the painting displayed on the screen and announced: "The late painter Xiang Yun's work 'Spring Dawn,' preserved in complete condition, exquisitely mounted, with not a single blemish. Starting bid: five hundred Red Crystals, with each increment no less than fifty Red Crystals."

You Yi's voice rang out as sweet as a yellow oriole's. She let out a light laugh and added, "However... if any distinguished guest could bestow upon the painting's owner a sixth-rank official position in Lin'an, the owner would gladly present this painting as a gift."

The moment he saw the painting, Meng Wan shot to his feet. He moved closer to the window and studied it carefully. Though he couldn't be certain it was a genuine Xiang Yun, it didn't matter—he didn't need to hesitate either way.

Meng Wan raised his hand and tossed the wooden chip marked with his bid down through the window. A white-mask person stationed below the platform dutifully picked it up and handed it to You Yi.

"The distinguished guest in Pavilion Eight, Earth Section, adds two hundred Red Crystals. Current bid: seven hundred Red Crystals." You Yi read the chip.

Meng Wan had opened with a two-hundred-crystal increase, signaling a determined, money-is-no-object attitude. The auction had only just begun, and most people had no interest in fighting over an optional painting. The hall fell quiet—almost no one competed with Meng Wan.

Unfortunately, just as the transaction was about to close, a wooden chip came flying out from a pavilion on the third floor, diagonally across from Meng Wan.

Meng Wan frowned and glanced down at the chips on his table. Among the many brown wooden chips, only one was red—and if he wasn't mistaken, the person across the way had thrown a red chip.

Upon receiving the red chip, You Yi's tone grew animated. "The distinguished guest in Pavilion Thirty-eight, Earth Section, has offered a red chip, indicating their willingness to grant the painting's owner an official position. Truly congratulations are in order."

No one was more excited than the black-mask person in a first-floor pavilion. It hadn't been in vain that he'd spent his entire clan's fortune to buy this painting—his wish was finally coming true. Once he became an official, his family's status would be transformed, and wouldn't his descendants be born into officialdom?

On one side, giving away a trivial, optional minor post without spending a single coin to acquire a masterpiece; on the other, successfully delivering what they wanted to give and achieving their family's crossover. Both parties were thoroughly satisfied. Only Meng Wan, who had failed to secure the painting, let out a low laugh in his pavilion.

"Fine. So that's how you want to play?" Meng Wan raised his head, staring at the room across the way.

Ge Quan had already infiltrated successfully, and they'd stalled long enough—Song Tingzhou should be making his move by now. He'd love to see who was unlucky enough to be caught enjoying themselves in You City.

Meng Wan headed for the door. "Chi Yu, keep your eye on that room—Pavilion Thirty-eight, Earth Section. We're going straight over to take it!"

He didn't bother with his mask. The thing was stuffy and hot, probably due to some inner lining, nowhere near as breathable as the masks worn by the white-mask people of You San.

Sixty-six, still kneeling outside the door, instinctively held his breath at the sound of movement within. As the door swung open from the inside, he opened his mouth to speak.

"You two follow behind. Don't do anything unnecessary. If I'm in a good mood, I might consider taking you both out of You City." After dropping that line, Meng Wan strode off furiously with Chi Yu, pausing to glance a few extra times at two pavilions along the way that had guards stationed outside.

Pavilion Thirty-eight was directly across from them. Occasionally, white-mask people carrying tea, snacks, and wine walked through the corridor, all silent, not daring to look up.

Second-rate martial artists weren't found everywhere, and first-rate ones were only ever seen within the imperial family. The Luo family had produced only a few top-tier second-rate fighters across generations—they weren't exactly worshipped like ancestors, but they enjoyed relative freedom.

Most of these powerful, influential officials had third-rate martial artists at their side; having one or two third-rate experts was already exceptional. Ge Quan didn't even need to lift a finger—Chi Yu alone took on three at once and quickly dispatched the guards outside Pavilion Thirty-eight.

The commotion at the door was considerable, but the people inside were far too lost in their revelry. Shedding their usual masks of false virtue, once inside Youcheng they were no better than beasts. Seven or eight white-masked people in the pavilion were like—no, at this moment they were treated as pets, or rather livestock, sprawled naked on the ground. Three middle-aged men, dissolute and wanton, had flushed cheeks, disheveled attire, exaggerated expressions, and lecherous gazes.

This was supposed to be a jade palace like a celestial abode, the entire structure towering and aloof, yet these sanctimonious officials and wealthy magnates used it as a brothel. Truly, a filthy heart breeds filthy deeds.

Without needing Chi Yu's prompting, Meng Wan had already turned his head away.

The people inside, startled by Chi Yu's kick to the door, had already seen Meng Wan and his group at the entrance. Perhaps because they were in Youcheng, their beastly nature had yet to recede. A middle-aged man with three wisps of black beard squinted his sharp, gleaming eyes and scanned Meng Wan from head to toe. "Whose young master is this? How did you wind up in a place like this?"

The white-masked people lying on the ground had, under Chi Yu's gesture, numbly dressed themselves. Meng Wan turned back and said coldly to the middle-aged man, "When you're escorted to the Ministry of Justice prison, you'll naturally know who your grandpa is."

The man's alcohol-numbed mind instantly cleared. "You know about the Ministry of Justice prison? Where's Luo Liu? Didn't he claim there was no one in Youcheng he couldn't recruit? Who is this person, and why was he allowed into White Jade City?"

Another slightly stout man reacted faster. He abruptly grabbed a wine jug from the table and hurled it at the towering Chi Yu, while shouting hoarsely, "Guards! To arms! There's an assassin!"

Despite his injury, Chi Yu caught the jug steadily with one hand, flipped his wrist, and sent it smashing back onto the stout man's head with a loud "bang." Wine mixed with blood immediately ran down his face. The stout man let out a scream and collapsed to the ground, clutching his head.

Meng Wan stepped into the pavilion. "Just looking at you people pisses me off. Which one of you was vying with me for the painting? Where is it?"

Seeing the unconscious stout man, the other two instantly sobered up.

"You've come for the 'Spring Dawn' painting? We can hand it over to you. Your in-laws must be prominent figures in the south. Why not give us your name? We might even be from the same family," the three-bearded man said, realizing he'd hit a wall and hastily probing.

Meng Wan had already spotted the scroll held in the arms of a white-masked person standing like a wooden post. He extended his hand and said bluntly, "Give it here."

The white-masked person's gaze fell on his chiseled, handsome face, tinged with menace, and hesitated slightly. They only followed orders from the guests wearing black masks.

Ge Quan stepped forward. No one saw how he made his move, but the painting that should have been cradled in the white-masked person's hands was now before Meng Wan.

"Thanks, Brother Ge." Meng Wan smiled and unrolled the painting, taking it in for a few seconds, then looked at the empty seal space below. It was indeed Xiang Yun without a doubt.

He let out a sigh—neither sorrowful nor angry—and said in a very calm tone, "My master's painting ending up in a filthy place like this is truly... a damn shame."

Sixth Granduncle, having received word, had rushed over with his men at top speed. Seeing the three unconscious officials lying on the ground, his eyelids twitched. With Meng Wan clearly tearing apart all pretense, he could no longer maintain his composed facade and demanded harshly, "Meng Fulang, your crimes of human trafficking and selling children—are the witnesses and evidence not all before Prefect Xu? Aren't you afraid that before Song Tingzhou even reaches Lin'an, we'll have you escorted back to the capital in shackles?"

"Xu Yun? After he left the dock, have you found him?"

"You!" Sixth Granduncle was about to say more when a tremendous crash sounded from outside.

Everyone's first instinct was to rush to the window and look out. Below the mountain, in the dense forest across the rushing river, several large trees had toppled with a roar, as if multiple thunderbolts had struck in one spot.

"Damn it!" Sixth Granduncle hurriedly ran downstairs, not forgetting to send more men to the third floor to capture Meng Wan.

Ge Quan alone held off their entire group, so Meng Wan was unconcerned. Seeing smoke rising from the forest, he knew Song Tingzhou had found the spot, and he grew even bolder. Taking the painting, he called to his people, "Let's go, Chi Yu. I want to see who's in the Earth-level rooms upstairs."

He searched room by room, and whenever a door opened, he had Chi Yu seize the occupants, rip off their masks, and commit their faces to memory.

Many had already fled in the chaos, and the first and second floors were filled with people fleeing in panic. When Meng Wan reached the fifth room, the first thing he saw was a massive iron cage. The child sold at the very beginning was locked inside, still alive, but half of his tender face was gone.

That wasn't what shocked Meng Wan, though—because there was a familiar face in the room. Lady Yu, who should have been in the outside world, was dead. Her body had already been cut apart, leaving only her head hanging from the window.

Meng Wan gasped, and with it, caught a faint scent of chrysanthemum. The silhouettes of Seventeen and Sixty-six, who had entered the room just ahead of him, began to blur.

Meng Wan realized something was amiss. His first instinct was to grab the sachet at his waist, but in the next instant, all strength fled from him. Just before his vision faded, he saw a familiar figure holding a bone-handled carving knife.

"Useless apprentice, Chi You's poison skills are unrivaled throughout history—even I marvel at them. Your adopted son is capable, but compared to him, he still comes up short."