10. The Waters of the Qinhuai River

The young woman speaking was none other than Tuoba Qian, the second daughter of Prince Teng. Though only fifteen, she was naturally lively and restless. Her father and brothers usually kept a strict watch over her, so she rarely had a chance to go out. This time, with the spring flood arriving early along the Gan River and her family busy, she seized the opportunity to sneak out. Upon hearing that her beloved cousin, the young prince Tuoba Jing, was here, she had come looking for him.

But as a girl on the brink of adolescence, she still carried a trace of rebellion. Even though she had come for her cousin, learning he had bypassed Hongdu to come to Yangzhou angered her immensely. In her petulance, she decided to do something outrageous and told her maid she was going out to drink in a pleasure house.

Despite dressing like a man, her slender figure and delicate waist betrayed her true gender. No man in the world could be so graceful and lithe like a willow swaying in the breeze. The madam of the spring house was no fool; having seen hundreds of women pass through her hands each year, she could easily see through a simple disguise.

“Oh dear, young miss, please have mercy. I don’t know which wealthy family you come from, but this house is no place for a proper young lady,” the madam said earnestly, standing by the door. “The laws of the Great Wei forbid respectable women from entering pleasure houses unless they are criminals or consenting adults. If someone reports you, I’ll be in trouble with the authorities. Please, young miss, have pity.”

Tuoba Qian rolled her eyes in irritation and turned her head away. “If I’m not allowed in, then I won’t go. Qiuhe, let’s leave!”

Helpless, the two girls wandered the dusk-lit streets, ate a bit, and soon grew bored. The young princess sat on the restaurant’s balcony, gazing at the shimmering Grand Canal in the distance with a sigh. “How dull... not even allowed to drink a little.”

At that moment, her maid whispered, “Princess, I heard this place isn’t just about flowers and wine. The palace guards once said the gambling houses in Yangzhou are quite something. If we can’t enter the pleasure houses, surely we can go to the gambling dens?”

Those words lit up the young princess’s eyes. She clapped her fan shut with a snap. “Alright, alright, I’ll go take a look!”

While the two young ladies roamed about, Xia Lin woke up and checked his phone. It was about 8:30 p.m. He sat up, rubbed his face, and half-lamented his own overconfidence—though the alcohol wasn’t strong, downing a whole pot at once was still a bit much.

As he rose, he saw Chun Tao sitting at a small table outside, while Zhang Zhongchun lay sprawled in the back room snoring loudly.

“Chun Tao, thank you for your hard work,” Xia Lin said as he yawned and stepped outside.

Chun Tao smiled warmly. “You’re quite talented for a scoundrel.”

“Not at all. I just wanted to show off a little in front of a beautiful lady like you.” Xia Lin poured himself some water. “But who knew my attempt to paint a tiger ended up looking like a dog, and it caused you quite some trouble.”

Such oily flattery was rare in this era, and Chun Tao laughed heartily. But as a servant of a noble household, she kept a respectful distance. Standing, she said, “The young prince has gone to rest in the villa due to his poor tolerance. The king wants to see you tomorrow. Don’t wander off; I’ll come for you around the morning hour.”

“I understand, I understand,” Xia Lin rubbed his hands and smiled. “Thank you, Sister Chun Tao.”

Chun Tao placed a small pouch of gold coins on the table. “Here’s the prize money for your triple victory in poetry: 150 taels for first place, 100 for second, and 80 for third. You won them all. Take it and don’t squander it. And don’t go to those pleasure houses—the young prince disapproves.”

“Does Sister Chun Tao like them?”

She chuckled softly. “Neither do I.”

After leaving the money behind, Chun Tao departed. Xia Lin weighed the pouch, chuckling. No wonder money was easy to get from royal families. Just a few lines of poetry earned over three hundred taels, while an ordinary family might only make fifty or sixty in a year.

It made sense. The Great Wei dynasty had lasted nine generations and over 230 years, roughly from 386 AD to the current year of 620 AD, the Gengchen year—equivalent to the third year of Emperor Gaozu of Tang’s Wude era.

A dynasty spanning nine generations had clearly passed its peak. The ruling class was becoming detached from the masses, social stratification growing rigid. Though the dynasty still appeared stable, it only needed a catalyst to shift from prosperity to decline—the inevitable fate of centuries-old regimes.

Why were royal families so easy to deceive? Because they were disconnected from reality, oblivious to the stars above or the struggles of the people below. They were trapped in their lofty towers, obsessed with power struggles as if it were their historical destiny. If they weren’t easily fooled, who else would be?

But what did this have to do with Xia Lin? He was but a small fish swimming in the vast current of history. His main task was simply to survive in a society that could swallow him whole at any moment—and eventually become the one doing the swallowing.

He had no grand sense of historical mission or lofty ideals. Enjoying life was his greatest hope.

“Get up, get up.”

Xia Lin shook Old Zhang, who was still half-asleep. Upon waking, Old Zhang looked at him with bleary eyes.

“Let’s go out to eat! The prize money’s in.” Xia Lin jingled the pouch in his hand.

Instantly, Old Zhang’s eyes brightened. He sprang to his feet. “Let’s go!”

That BYD... Xia Lin cursed silently as he watched Old Zhang bounce ahead.

With a hefty sum in hand, the two headed to the finest restaurant in Yangzhou, taking the very seat the young princess had occupied earlier, overlooking the myriad city lights.

Old Zhang suddenly said, “Later we should order a chicken from the riverside pavilion.”

“Order your grandmother’s chicken leg,” Xia Lin retorted, taking a few bites. “Chun Tao warned me not to go to that place. Said the young prince doesn’t like it. Guess why?”

“Because the young prince doesn’t like it.”

“Zhang Zhongchun!”

Xia Lin mock-threatened to poke him on the head. Old Zhang straightened up. “Don’t be so hasty… You mean someone’s watching us?”

“Yeah, not sure but better safe than sorry.” Xia Lin rubbed his nose. “The young prince’s methods are strange and suspicious. Who knows what he’s plotting? Since he gave a clear order, we shouldn’t stir trouble. You get me?”

“Got it.” Old Zhang was sharp. “So, what now?”

“Let’s play a few games.” Xia Lin smiled. “I heard Yangzhou has two specialties—water from the Qinhuai River and the cards from Little Wuyi Lane. We can’t touch the water, so how about we try our luck with the cards?”

Both young men were no strangers to the streets and alleys, fully familiar with brothels, gambling dens, and pavilions. Despite regional cultural differences, the basics were the same. They picked a larger gambling house and dove in.

The place was lively yet thick with smoke and chaos—just the atmosphere they liked. Amid shouts of “bets placed” and “game over,” they played back and forth until a commotion arose nearby.

“What’s going on there?” Old Zhang squinted toward the other end of the gambling hall, curiosity aflame. “Come on, let’s see.”

“Nothing special. People yelling in a casino is normal.”

“Come on, the cards will always be there. This kind of excitement is a show on its own.”

Pulled along by Old Zhang, Xia Lin pushed through the crowd and saw three or five men surrounding two small boys who looked terrified. The men accused them of stealing and insisted on searching them, but the boys refused.

“This is a common trick,” Old Zhang explained, fanning himself. “They plant stolen goods on the victims, who obviously refuse. Then they threaten to report them to the authorities. Once outside, these thugs scatter.”

“Are you crazy?” Xia Lin elbowed Old Zhang. “Open your eyes and look closely at those ‘little masters.’”

Old Zhang took a look and smacked his lips. “Ohhh…”

“Step aside,” Xia Lin pushed Old Zhang lightly. “I can’t stand bullies picking on little girls.”

Without hesitation, he strode forward. The thugs blocked the path, but Xia Lin was unflustered, snapping, “Move aside! What are you, a bunch of cats and dogs, blocking the way?”

One man with a goatee tilted his head, eyeing Xia Lin mockingly. “Little brat, you’re scrawny—how dare you stick your neck out?”

Xia Lin crossed his arms and shielded the two “little masters” behind him, pacing back and forth. “You can laugh or curse, but here’s the deal: if you lay a finger on them today, tomorrow your heads will hang from the gates of Yangzhou.”

Laughter erupted. The goateed man sneered, but then noticed Xia Lin’s arm hidden inside his sleeve—a clear sign of readiness for combat. The man, well-versed in street fights, cautiously reached inside.

Within moments, his face changed from fiery red to charred black, trembling as he withdrew his hand.

“Still laughing?” Xia Lin raised his chin arrogantly. “If you want to laugh, go ahead. If not, then scram.”

He glanced sideways at Old Zhang, who immediately understood. Gripping his fan inside his coat, Old Zhang made a move as if drawing a sword, adding to the tension.

The goateed man forced a dry smile, bowed repeatedly, and quickly led his men away.

The entire gambling hall stared at Xia Lin in astonishment. Xia Lin grabbed one of the “little masters” by the hand. “Come on, stop waiting to be robbed.”

The “little master” was stunned but obediently followed the young man out of the gambling den. They stopped at a wonton shop on the street.

“You rich girls really don’t know your limits. How could you go to such places?” Xia Lin scolded. “They target you because you’re girls. They won’t let you be searched, so they persist. In the end… well, you’d probably end up dragged to some misery den.”

The “little master” shivered and defiantly said, “They wouldn’t dare. They know who I am!”

“Even if you were the Heavenly King himself, tonight you wouldn’t escape. Tomorrow, even if you skinned them alive, it wouldn’t change the fact that you’ve been tainted by the Qinhuai pleasures.” Xia Lin waved his hand. “Come on, go home. Kids shouldn’t be out at night.”

Old Zhang suddenly asked curiously, “How did you make them scram? They looked scared.”

Xia Lin pulled out the Qin King’s pouch, embroidered with pearls and jade—a clear symbol of the Qin King’s authority. “Putting on the tiger’s skin to scare the wolves. They’re experts at reading people. I’m from the north, holding the Qin King’s token—they panicked.”

“Do you know the Qin King?” one “little master” asked.

Xia Lin waved dismissively, annoyed. “No, just know the young prince. Hey, what does it matter? Go home and drink your milk. Running around at your age—I’m your father, you want me to spank you or not?”

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After you recommend this, I’ll update more chapters...