The City of Blossoms and Schemes

The journey had been nothing short of miserable—
blizzards, ambushes, robberies, hunger, and cold.
By the time Gu Yi and his men finally reached Yingzhong, their faces were pale and hollow.
Even the little mouse, A’bao, had lost weight—its once-round rump now noticeably deflated.

Now it was early spring.
The snow had melted, the earth was alive again, and Yingzhong, the bustling capital of the Western Han Kingdom, shimmered with the warmth of trade and prosperity.

The moment they arrived, the group charged straight into a tavern, bringing their horses and their appetites with them.
Only after several rounds of food and wine did they finally begin to feel human again.

Shishu, peeking half his head out the window, marveled at the crowded streets below.
“Your Highness, this Yingzhong truly deserves to be called the City of Trade—so many people! Oh, look! A red-haired man with a huge beard!”

General Lan immediately seized Shishu by the collar and shoved him back into his seat.
“Stop gawking like a country bumpkin. You’re embarrassing us.”

Shishu pouted, muttering, “But… but there really are so many people.”

Gu Yi plucked the toothpick from his mouth, cast a glance out the window, and said lazily,
“That’s Lachi, one of the Eight Wild Clans. They recently established trade relations with Yingzhong.”
Then, twirling the toothpick thoughtfully, he murmured,
“Hmm… that brat Zhuoyuan does have some skill—doing business even with the savages of the Wildlands.”

General Lan glanced nervously at Gu Yi, then at the stunned waiter nearby, who looked as though he’d just swallowed his tongue.
Lowering his voice, the general hissed, “My lord, we’re on foreign soil. It’s dangerous to speak so freely. Calling the emperor by name—that’s high treason!”

The waiter’s hand trembled so badly that a few drops of wine splashed onto the table.

Gu Yi didn’t even look up.
“That brat didn’t hear me, did he?”

General Lan groaned and pressed a palm to his forehead.
The poor waiter clamped his hands over his eyes and ears, pretending to be deaf and blind—then stumbled backward and fell down the stairs in panic.

Shishu blinked between them, confused.
“Your Highness… this ‘brat’ you keep mentioning… who exactly is he?”

A teacup flew across the table and struck him squarely on the forehead.

The nickname “that brat” originated with Gu Yi’s father—
the reigning Emperor of the Eastern Yi Kingdom.

Eighteen years ago, a fifteen-year-old boy named Zhuoyuan had murdered his father and brothers, seizing the throne in a blood-soaked coup.
On that day, everyone across the continent of Yichuan trembled—
especially Gu Yi’s father, a self-made emperor who’d risen from obscurity.
He had stared at the news in disbelief and blurted out,

“That brat Zhuoyuan… ruthless little devil!”

From then on, the nickname stuck.

Over the years, Gu Yi had heard countless stories about “that brat”.

They said Zhuoyuan opened new trade routes and expanded commerce until the Western Han Kingdom’s economy soared.
They said he signed peace treaties with their long-time enemies in the Southern Chuan Kingdom—
a move that made Eastern Yi and Northern Ji both shudder uneasily.
They said he was a master of all eighteen martial disciplines,
and shared a brotherly bond with Qin An, the kingdom’s greatest general and the emperor’s future brother-in-law—
a bond so close that the two often spent their nights together in the same chamber.

Shishu, still rubbing the bump on his head, asked timidly,
“And… who’s Qin An?”

General Lan’s expression darkened.
“The Western Han Kingdom’s top general. He became Commander of the Realm at twenty.”
Then, with a hint of disdain, he added,
“Typical case of inheriting his father’s rank. Born lucky.”

“Twenty years old?” Shishu blinked. “General Lan, how old are you again?”

General Lan’s face turned pitch-black.

The rest of the meal passed in painfully awkward silence.

After dinner, Gu Yi’s party made their way to the imperial palace—only to find no welcoming party waiting for them.

Instead, a pale, beardless eunuch leaned lazily against a pillar, offering the barest hint of a bow.

“Welcome, Prince Gu Yi of Eastern Yi. It is truly an honor for our kingdom to receive you. However,” he yawned,
“the palace is currently under renovation. There are no spare quarters available, so I’m afraid you and your retinue will have to stay at the courier’s inn for now. Once the palace repairs are completed, we shall extend a proper invitation.”

Gu Yi’s smile remained polite. “And how long will these renovations take?”

“Oh, who can say?” The eunuch shrugged. “Three to five days… or perhaps three to five years. We’ll see. Please be patient, Your Highness.”

General Lan’s face turned red with fury, but before he could explode, Gu Yi raised a hand to stop him.

With perfect grace, Gu Yi bowed slightly to the eunuch.
“In that case, I wouldn’t dare to intrude. Please do keep me informed of the palace’s progress, good sir.”

“Of course, of course.” The eunuch gave a perfunctory smile and minced away, hips swaying.

The moment he was gone, General Lan clenched his fists.
“Your Highness, that brat is obviously mocking us!”

Gu Yi gave him a withering look. “Mind your words.”

“He’s deliberately humiliating us!”

“No kidding.”

“Then what do we do now?”

Gu Yi leaned back with a sigh. “What else? Why don’t you storm the palace and kill everyone inside? I hear Qin An, the so-called prodigy general, has returned. Perhaps you could ‘exchange a few pointers’ with him—show him how a real veteran fights?”

General Lan wiped the sweat from his brow, thoroughly deflated.

And so, the group marched off, grumbling, into the crowded streets.

Yingzhong was overflowing with people—
but oddly, not a single woman could be seen.

Everywhere they looked, pale-faced men shuffled about with dazed expressions,
as though the very life had been drained from them.

Gu Yi stopped one thin, haggard-looking man. “What happened here?”

The man sighed miserably. “All the women are at home getting dressed up!”

Gu Yi frowned. “Dressed up? Why?”

The man’s expression crumpled.
“The Emperor is choosing new consorts! Of course, we subjects support the royal will wholeheartedly, but…”
He hesitated, lowering his voice. “But this time, His Majesty’s… standards are a bit unusual.”

Gu Yi arched a brow. “Unusual how?”

The man sighed again, eyes full of despair.
“He said any woman in the kingdom can be chosen—married or not, young or old, doesn’t matter!
My wife’s over thirty, we’ve got two kids, and now she’s prancing about the house, saying she wants to ‘see if the Emperor fancies her!’ Tell me, good sir, how is a man supposed to live like this?”

Everyone nodded in horrified agreement.

Gu Yi listened quietly, then asked where the city’s largest pleasure house was located.
Moments later, his entire retinue was storming toward it.

“Liujun Courtyard” was Yingzhong’s most famous brothel—
a palace of color and music, filled with the most dazzling women in the kingdom.

Ordinarily, one needed to reserve weeks in advance just to set foot inside.
But today, the grand red lanterns had been replaced by plain white ones.
No greeters, no laughter, no music. Even the madam herself had swapped her jeweled gown for a plain gray robe, looking more like a grieving widow than the queen of courtesans.

Before Gu Yi’s men could step through the door, the madam rushed forward, bowing repeatedly.
“So sorry, so sorry! The girls are resting these few days. We’re not taking any guests.”

Gu Yi’s smile vanished.
“Oh? What’s the problem? Don’t tell me every last one of your girls came down with their monthly curse at the same time?”

The madam’s face turned ghostly white.

Gu Yi’s eyes narrowed. He pushed her aside and strode in without another word.
Hundreds of men followed behind him like a tide, filling the brothel to the brim.

Today, Gu Yi had clearly decided to play the tyrant to the end.

He sat himself at a table, poured a cup of tea, and began drinking leisurely.
His men followed suit—drinking, laughing, banging their fists on tables, demanding wine and food as if they owned the place.

The madam stood awkwardly by the stairs, her face folding in on itself like old parchment.
With a forced smile, she said, “Honored sirs, there’s a Zui Xian Pavilion just down the street—its food is far superior to ours. Please, allow me to escort you there as an apology for our… poor hospitality.”

Gu Yi slapped the table with a loud crack.
“Oh? Are you saying we can’t afford to eat here?”

The color drained from her face completely. She shut her mouth and didn’t dare speak again.

Before long, food was brought up.

Gu Yi glanced at Shishu, who was locked in a fierce battle with a chicken leg.
“Take Qiao Qiao to a private room,” Gu Yi ordered.

Shishu froze mid-bite. “My lord… that—”

A single cold glare from Gu Yi silenced him.

A few moments later, Shishu returned, hauling a burlap sack over his shoulder.
The madam hurried to clear a private room upstairs.

Then Gu Yi turned to the back of the hall. “Bring her.”

From the shadows stepped a slender figure in crimson robes, wearing a wide-brimmed hat that hid her face.

“Go with Shishu,” Gu Yi said. “Give Qiao Qiao a bath. Change her into clean clothes.”

The woman bowed gracefully.

Gu Yi frowned slightly. “Make sure her face is washed thoroughly.”

She nodded again, gliding upstairs with elegant steps. Even though her features were hidden, her movements alone drew every eye in the room.

When the last trace of her red silhouette vanished behind the screen, a collective sigh passed through the hall.

Gu Yi turned back toward the dazed madam, smiling faintly.
“Well,” he said, voice smooth and dangerous, “now that we’ve all eaten and drunk our fill… isn’t it time you brought out the girls?”