Chapter Ninety-Two: Yingying of the Drunken Life Pavilion

From the conversation between these two people, Jiang Chen could tell they were plotting to assassinate Yu Wenshi, the Vice Minister of Justice. The irony was especially bitter: Yu Wenshi’s favored son was indulging himself next door in the Drunken Flower Pavilion, while here, a dreadful conspiracy was taking shape—one that might doom his entire family eternally.

Jiang Chen listened quietly without being discovered, until the candle in the room went out and the man respectfully withdrew. Watching him back away with tiny, measured steps, facing forward all the while, Jiang Chen couldn’t help but wonder: Who was this person inside, to command such reverence?

Such decorum was reserved for the highest halls of court—could these two truly be entangled with the imperial government?

The more he considered it, the more uneasy he became. Jiang Chen slipped after the man. Unaware he was being followed, the man with the serpent tattoo on his chest headed east.

The distance between them steadily shrank; Jiang Chen was about to seize the opportune moment to strike when, at that crucial instant, the gambling hall was suddenly flooded with light and shouts erupted all around. Flames shot skyward from the buildings to the east, engulfing the surroundings in a sudden inferno, and Jiang Chen lost his chance.

Still, he had gleaned some vital clues. Though he hadn’t captured the man to interrogate him further, he wasn’t disappointed. He decided to leave well enough alone and, while the chaos reigned, retraced his steps.

Within the gambling hall’s courtyard, rocks stacked by the wall provided a convenient boost; with their help, Jiang Chen easily vaulted the wall and leapt back into the Drunken Flower Pavilion.

His movements were fluid and effortless—so much so that even a wall two meters higher would have posed no obstacle. But upon returning to the room, he saw that Yu Yuanliang, whom he had knocked unconscious earlier, was now tightly bound.

“You’re finally back,” cooed the courtesan Yingying, scissors in one hand, an apple in the other.

Jiang Chen asked, “You tied him up?”

She smiled serenely. “Of course. What if you hadn’t returned and he woke up? That would have been dangerous for me.”

Jiang Chen was surprised. When he had first burst in and knocked Yu Yuanliang out, this girl hadn’t screamed or protested; instead, she had calmly sent the meddlesome madam away. Now, seeing Yu Yuanliang trussed up, Jiang Chen found her even more inscrutable.

“I gave you a hundred taels of silver, only asking that you keep quiet. But it seems you’ve done much more than I asked.”

Yingying smiled faintly. “Indeed. Shouldn’t you be even more grateful?”

Jiang Chen waved his hands. “No need. I have no more silver to give, and besides, I didn’t ask you to tie him up. My business here is done; you’d best pretend nothing happened.”

“Your business—was it setting the gambling hall on fire?”

Flames blazed outside, and the brothel was in an uproar.

Jiang Chen flatly denied it, assuring Yingying that once Yu Yuanliang woke, he’d remember nothing—he’d acted quickly enough that Yu never had a chance to react before losing consciousness.

As Jiang Chen prepared to leave, Yingying asked from behind him, “After all this, aren’t we partners of a sort? Won’t you tell me who you are?”

“Just chance acquaintances. There’s no need,” Jiang Chen replied, and disappeared through the door.

The next day, news of the fire at the gambling hall in Willow Lane became the talk of the neighborhood, sparking a flurry of wild theories about the cause. Some said the owner had offended the wrong people and was targeted for revenge. Others claimed a desperate gambler, unable to repay his debts, had tried to set himself alight in the latrine and accidentally ignited the whole place.

None of these tales had any factual basis, and so they were passed off as idle gossip.

That morning, business at the shop was as bustling as ever. With Wu Yue and Duanmu Qing, the two beauties, presiding, even more customers flocked in than usual.

After recounting the events of the previous night to Han Yuyang, Jiang Chen prepared to visit the private residence of Wang Qiaoling to survey the grounds and identify possible entry points.

Han Yuyang warned him, “Though it’s a private residence, there are government guards posted inside and out, day and night. Be careful.”

“I won’t take unnecessary risks. But ordinary security won’t stop me,” Jiang Chen replied. He slipped out the back door, heading straight for Wang Qiaoling’s house.

Wang Qiaoling, the Prefect of Yanzhou, had lingered in the capital for an unusually long time, never returning to his own jurisdiction. There had to be some hidden reason for this. Jiang Chen refused to believe the official story that he was in the capital for rest and recuperation—it was just a convenient excuse.

He suspected Wang Qiaoling was either afraid of something or someone and only felt safe under heavy protection in his private residence. But who, then, was the threat?

No sooner had Jiang Chen left than a luxurious carriage pulled up in front of the breakfast shop.

Inside were two young gentlemen of considerable standing in the capital, both of whom were inextricably linked to Jiang Chen.

“Yu, did you see? What do you think of the beauty working in that shop?” Shi Guangjun lifted the curtain for Yu Yuanliang to take a look. Both their gazes landed on the graceful figure busy with customers.

“My, she’s truly otherworldly—a rare and refreshing sight. There aren’t many like her in the capital,” Yu Yuanliang exclaimed, his appreciation for women always enthusiastic and insightful. This woman, he felt, was quite unlike any he’d encountered before.

He said to Shi Guangjun, “You really know how to pick them. To offer me such a chance—rest assured, I’ll find a way to thank you properly.”

As he spoke, Yu Yuanliang kept rubbing the back of his neck.

“What’s wrong? Did the courtesan at the Drunken Flower Pavilion tire you out last night?” Shi Guangjun asked knowingly.

“I’m not sure what happened. I just blacked out for no reason, and when I woke it was already daylight—the beauty was nowhere to be seen. The madam said I’d had a few drinks and simply collapsed, and she’d called some staff to help me to bed.”

“Ever since I woke, my neck’s been sore, as if someone hit me from behind. It’s as if I was cursed!”