The Brothel that Started a War

Many years later—
when Gu Yi had become the Emperor of the Eastern Kingdom of Dongyi,
and Qin An had risen to the position of Regent Prince of the Western Kingdom of Xihan—
the two most powerful nations on the continent of Yichuan had long since become mortal enemies.

Historians, baffled by the bitter hatred between them, scoured royal records and ancestral archives, tracing back eighteen generations of both dynasties. They cross-referenced letters, scrolls, and military accounts, only to find nothing conclusive.

The final clue came, ironically, not from the court historians—
but from an old storyteller in a teahouse.

His explanation?

“It all began,” the man said, tapping his teacup for emphasis,
“because of a visit to a brothel.”

A war between two nations… ignited by a night of “entertainment.”
Even the historians had to admit—it was absurdly frivolous.

“Now that we’ve eaten and drunk our fill,” Gu Yi said lazily, setting down his cup,
“isn’t it about time the girls were brought out?”

The madam’s face went pale as wax. Her lips trembled, but no sound came out.

Truly, she was on the verge of tears.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want the business—heavens, no!—but tonight, of all nights, she had an appointment with Eunuch Wang, the royal official overseeing the preliminary palace selections.

She had spent an obscene amount of silver to secure this chance.

Gu Yi’s lips curved into something between a smile and a sneer.
“Oh? So this is how the mighty Western Kingdom of Xihan treats its guests?”

At once, the atmosphere turned deadly.
Over a hundred Dongyi soldiers tensed in unison, hands sliding to their sword hilts.

Just as bloodshed seemed imminent, a cold, clear voice descended from above:

“And this, I suppose, is how the Eastern Kingdom of Dongyi shows its courtesy?”

Gu Yi looked up.

On the upper balcony stood a tall, striking figure in dark robes, golden boots embroidered with coiling dragons. His face was sharp, restrained—a blade sheathed in frost.

Their gazes locked across the hall.

Gu Yi’s smile deepened. He rose slightly and gave a mock bow.
“I had no idea General Qin An also enjoys frequenting brothels.”

Thus began the first recorded meeting between Gu Yi of Dongyi and Qin An of Xihan—
an encounter that would be studied by diplomats for centuries,
and one that began, of all things, with a debate about the etiquette of visiting brothels.

Of course, anyone who knew Qin An knew he wasn’t the type to “visit brothels.”
He was, after all, the prospective royal consort of Xihan—
a man bound by strict codes of conduct.

He could have argued that his visit was for “official purposes.”
But Qin An was not one to explain himself.

No, his reason was personal.

Days earlier, Qin An had led troops to eliminate a band of ruthless mountain bandits.
The battle was fierce—so fierce that even the undefeated Qin An found himself struggling.
When a bandit leapt from behind to strike him, a young soldier named Luo An blocked the blow, taking the sword in Qin An’s place.

Luo An died instantly.

It was a debt Qin An could never repay.

Later, he learned that Luo An had a beloved—a courtesan in this very brothel, Liu Junyuan.
So Qin An came, quietly, intending to buy her freedom as an act of remembrance.

He had just found the woman and was about to speak when loud commotion broke out below.
Eavesdropping for a moment, he quickly pieced together the situation:
Gu Yi and his entourage had been made to wait outside the palace gates by Minister Zhuo Yuan, and had finally stormed off in indignation.

Still fuming, Gu Yi had come to the brothel for “entertainment.”
When the madam hesitated, he’d taken it as a personal insult to Dongyi’s honor.
Now, things were escalating toward an international incident.

Qin An sighed.
If this kept up, they’d have a war in a pleasure house.

He descended the stairs, each step crisp, deliberate.
“Is this,” he asked coolly, “what you Easterners call hospitality?”

Gu Yi arched a brow. “And I didn’t know the esteemed General Qin enjoyed eavesdropping.”

“Hardly,” Qin An replied without missing a beat. “Compared to strong-arming a brothel madam, eavesdropping seems a lesser sin.”

They smiled thinly at each other, and then—
almost comically—sat down together.

The madam nearly fainted from relief.
She scrambled to pour tea for them both, her hands shaking so violently that the cups rattled.

Gu Yi, unbothered, swirled his tea leisurely.
“And what business brings the great General Qin here tonight?”

“I’m looking for someone.”

“Oh?” Gu Yi’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “A lady friend, perhaps?”

Qin An set his cup down, meeting Gu Yi’s gaze evenly.
“Indeed, a lady friend. Years ago, while passing through Dongyi, I once glimpsed a woman of peerless beauty in a certain establishment. It was love at first sight. Unfortunately, duty called me away before I could speak. When I returned, she had vanished without a trace.

“For years, I searched, to no avail. But now—” he paused, letting the words hang—
“seeing the illustrious Crown Prince of Dongyi, I realize the resemblance is uncanny. Tell me, are all the beauties of your nation as delicate as you?”

The entire hall went still.

Gu Yi’s expression did not change,
but one of his guards promptly choked, struggling not to laugh aloud.

Gu Yi took a long sip of his now-cold tea.
“General Qin, your sentiment is touching indeed.

“It’s just unfortunate that my royal father has few sons and even fewer of marrying age. Still, my eldest brother is a devoted husband, blessed with children aplenty. Why, just last week, his wife bore him a daughter.

“Perhaps,” Gu Yi added smoothly, “I could arrange a match for you? Then we’d be family.”

He rose gracefully, bowed, and said,
“According to our customs, I would then address you as nephew. A pleasure to finally meet you, dear nephew.”

Qin An: “…”

The tension between them was as sharp as drawn steel,
yet both spoke with flawless courtesy.

When Gu Yi gained the upper hand, his guards grinned broadly,
their laughter barely restrained.
When Qin An retaliated, their smiles vanished, hands tightening around their blades, ready to draw at any moment.

It was a delicate balance—
until the sound of synchronized marching shattered it.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

The floorboards trembled.

Qin An frowned.
Who in the world was foolish enough to march troops through a crowded district?
If it was his army, he’d flay them alive for such insolence.

Before he could investigate, a large figure burst through the door and dropped to one knee.

“Deputy Commander Li Chongwei of the Qin Family Army, reporting with three hundred men at your service!”

A thunderous chorus echoed from outside:

“Reporting for duty! Awaiting orders, General!”

The entire building shook.
Dust rained from the rafters.

Qin An closed his eyes briefly.
“…Heaven help me.”

Gu Yi fanned himself and coughed delicately behind the paper fan.
“Well, well. Seems someone thought I was bullying you, General Qin—
and brought three hundred soldiers to rescue you. Truly, what loyal subordinates you have.”

A misunderstanding.
A massive, world-shaking misunderstanding.

Qin An, of course, had come alone.
He’d wanted the visit to remain discreet, quiet.
But ever since his verbal sparring with Gu Yi began, rumors had spread like wildfire:

“The Qin General is dueling the Dongyi Crown Prince—in a brothel!”

That was all it took.

In the kitchen of the Liu Junyuan brothel worked a young scullion,
the little brother of a soldier in Qin An’s army.
He’d grown up hearing stories of the great Qin An—
a man like a god of war, wielding a black blade that felled thousands.

But gods, it seemed, could be bullied too.
And to the boy, watching his hero outnumbered by a foreign prince and his three hundred men—
this was unacceptable.

So he ran.

Straight to the military camp.
Crying, sputtering, barely able to speak,
he told Deputy Commander Li Chongwei that their general was being humiliated in a brothel.

Li Chongwei exploded.
“What? Our general—bullied?!”

Within minutes, three hundred armored soldiers were storming through the capital.

Now here they were, sweating in the chilly March air,
faces flushed, steam rising from their heads.

Li Chongwei knelt low, trembling.
“Your subordinate begs your forgiveness, my lord!”

Qin An, seated calmly at the table, took another sip of tea.
“What sin do you believe you’ve committed?”

Li swallowed hard. “I… disobeyed orders and left the camp without permission.”

“And?”

“I… led three hundred men into the city without authorization.”

“And?”

“I… may have caused some disturbance among the civilians.”

“And?”

Each question was soft, unhurried—
but each glance Qin An cast was like a blade across the throat.

By the time the last “and?” fell,
Li Chongwei was drenched in sweat,
his knees trembling so hard the floorboards creaked beneath him.

Gu Yi, watching, could hardly contain his amusement.
When Qin An finally fell silent, Gu Yi leaned forward with a teasing grin.

“Is that all?” he asked. “You’re stopping there?”

Li blinked, bewildered. “Huh?”

Gu Yi rose, mimicking the man’s posture, and said in mock solemnity:

“Subordinate’s greatest crime of all—was worrying for his general’s safety!
Was fearing the general would lose face before the Crown Prince of Dongyi!”

Li Chongwei stumbled back, nearly collapsing.

Gu Yi drained his cup, set it down, and smiled sweetly.
“See? I told you, General Qin—your men are loyal to the bone.”

Qin An’s silence could have frozen the tea in his cup.

And that, according to the old storyteller in the teahouse,
was how the two most powerful men on the continent first met—
in a brothel, surrounded by soldiers,
their pride, their tempers, and their egos too grand to back down.

A misunderstanding, a jest, and a single act of loyalty—
that was all it took to sow the seeds of a hatred that would one day engulf nations.

All because of one fateful night…
and one ill-timed visit to a brothel.