Chapter Five: Courtesan, Boy, and Fairy?
The Qinhuai River remained bustling and lively. As Yang Yaozong walked back with Little Hua, countless people still moved along the river, heading inward.
On the way, the little maid asked in a low voice, “Young Master, does it hurt a lot?”
Yang Yaozong touched his burning cheek and nodded, “Mm, that Miss Mu Qinghan… she’s got quite the strength.”
The two were already strolling toward the place where their carriage waited. The little maid laughed and teased, “Who told you to be so forward with Miss Mu?”
Yang Yaozong protested, feeling aggrieved, “How was I ever forward with her?”
“You kept… kept staring at her… at Miss Mu. How could she not get angry? I’ve never seen her so upset before.” The little maid blinked and glanced at Yang Yaozong.
He chuckled, “I’d never seen her in female attire before. Only as a man. Finally got to see her dressed as a lady, and she wore a mask—and then I got slapped. Ah! Not worth it at all.”
The little maid saw that Yang Yaozong was hardly troubled by what had just happened and even had the mood to joke, so she followed along with a smile.
“Brother… Brother… This gentleman!” Suddenly, a voice called from behind, and Yang Yaozong felt it was directed at him. He stopped and turned around.
Behind him stood a boy of about twelve or thirteen, holding a mask. His round, rosy face and large, clear eyes gazed up at Yang Yaozong with a bright, spirited look. Yang Yaozong was struck by the thought, “Is this little golden boy descending?” He said, “Little brother, are you calling me?”
The boy nodded, smiling but speaking with solemnity. “Yes. May I ask your name, sir? Earlier at the teahouse, I was seated just behind you. I admired your words and poetry, and would like to befriend you.”
Finding the boy adorable, Yang Yaozong reached out to touch his hair and cheek, but suddenly a woman in a flowing white dress appeared at the boy’s side, stepping in front of him. She wore no mask, only a veil, through which the faint outline of her exquisite beauty could be glimpsed. Yang Yaozong was momentarily stunned—no, utterly bewitched. Was this not the ethereal lady he had seen not long ago, the one who floated like a fairy? She was even more beautiful than the woman he had spoken with earlier. In both his past and present lives, he had never seen such beauty. Even the little maid beside him was awestruck.
Yang Yaozong murmured, “A fairy?”—as if asking both the woman and himself. For a moment, he completely forgot the boy who had spoken.
The white-clad woman said nothing, but her gaze fixed unblinkingly on Yang Yaozong.
The boy sidled out from behind her, tugged at her sleeve, and softly called, “Aunt.” She looked down fondly at the boy, then raised her head to regard Yang Yaozong coldly.
Yang Yaozong, reminded by the boy’s voice, thought to himself that this child was no ordinary one—his clothes and bearing were remarkable, and his aunt was incomparably beautiful. Surely their family was of great standing.
He took off his mask, revealing his harmlessly handsome face, bent down with a smile, and said to the boy, “To receive your appreciation today is a blessing for me. My surname is Yang, my given name is Guo.” Then he looked up at the coldly staring woman, “Aunt, you may call me Guo’er in the future.” Upon finishing, he saw an even sharper chill in her eyes, her gaze so icy it sent goosebumps rippling over him. He thought, “If looks could kill, this would be it.” Instinctively, he stepped back two paces, yet still smiled at the boy and his aunt.
The boy found Yang Yaozong amusing. Taking the white-robed woman’s hand, he laughed, “Yang Guo, Yang Guo. Yes. You and I are brothers, and it’s not bad to call my aunt ‘Aunt.’ You seem to be in a hurry to go home, so I won’t detain you. But may I ask where you live? When there’s a chance, I’ll visit you myself.”
The more Yang Yaozong listened, the more he found the boy’s grown-up manner adorable. “Thank you for your kindness. Since this is our first meeting, it’s not convenient to share my address. How about this: if we meet again, I’ll tell you then. How does that sound?” He thought, “With so many people in the world, it’s hardly likely we’ll meet again.”
The boy’s big, sparkling eyes stared at him as if he were some tasty treat. “Mm, mm. You’re right, I was being too forward. But I believe we’ll meet again soon!”
Yang Yaozong humored him with a laugh, “Haha, I believe so too.” At that moment, the little maid quietly tugged at his sleeve. Yang Yaozong saw her hiding behind him, timid. He was curious about the fairy-like woman, but didn’t wish to force himself upon her, especially since he was tired today. He bade farewell, “Little brother, Aunt… Until fate brings us together again.” Turning, he left with the little maid, watched by the boy and the white-robed woman.
In the carriage, the little maid looked up at Yang Yaozong, then lowered her head when he looked back. She repeated this a few times.
Yang Yaozong noticed her odd behavior and asked with a smile, “Little Hua, is something on your mind?”
Little Hua looked up and whispered, “Young Master… you were amazing today. Not only can you compose poetry, you know about plants, you speak foreign languages, and you made friends with such a beautiful lady. Miss… Miss...” Her feelings were complicated. Having spent over ten days with Yang Yaozong, she knew he wasn’t dull and was easy to get along with—unlike most scholars, who were proud and aloof. But today, his display of talent genuinely startled her. Her own mistress didn’t know yet, and she wondered whether she’d be pleased or troubled upon learning of it.
Yang Yaozong seemed to understand her thoughts and teased, “If your mistress learns she married such a capable husband, she’ll probably wake up laughing in her sleep! It suits her perfectly. You should be happy for her.”
The little maid burst out laughing, “Miss would never wake up laughing!”
Then, suddenly remembering something, she asked, “Young Master, what did you talk about with that foreigner today? He gave you this pot of mint.”
Yang Yaozong smiled and told her about his conversation with Bruno, and how they had arranged to visit his home the next day.
The little maid nodded, “Bruno is truly fortunate to have met you.”
Yang Yaozong flicked her forehead and put on a stern face, “No flattery allowed, not even if it’s true.”
She rubbed her forehead, “Young… Master!”
The next day, at dawn, Yang Yaozong rose early.
He had devised a regimen for himself, starting with jogging, basic calisthenics, and stretches, and gave Little Hua a meal plan—essentially, meat, meat, meat. He wanted to gain weight first, then turn that into muscle. Looking at his skinny frame, he didn’t even want to take a second glance.
When Little Hua saw the meal plan, she laughed, “Young Master, are you unhappy about being too thin? You’re a scholar, not a fighter or a soldier—your figure is fine as it is.” She found him quite amusing.
Yang Yaozong glared at her, “I want to gain weight just so I can bully your mistress!”
“Miss is skilled in martial arts! Even if you got as fat as a barrel, you wouldn’t be her match.” The little maid looked down on Yang Yaozong’s fighting abilities.
Yang Yaozong was speechless, humiliated by a mere maid, and shook his fist in mock protest.
Seeing his defeat, the little maid laughed even harder.
After exercising, he washed and dressed with her help, ate breakfast, and prepared to visit Bruno’s home, as they’d agreed—he had some plants to buy and matters to discuss. He ordered Little Hua to prepare the carriage, and the two rode toward Bruno’s residence.
Bruno lived in the commoners’ quarter of Jinling, where the streets were narrow and carriages had difficulty passing. Upon arrival, Yang Yaozong instructed the driver to stop at the entrance, and he and Little Hua continued on foot.
As they were passing a carriage that had already stopped nearby, a voice called from inside, “Young Master Yang.”
Yang Yaozong turned to look. The curtain was lifted, and out stepped two women dressed as men. One was the lady he had enjoyed conversing with the previous night; the other, her companion from then.
He was surprised, “What are you doing...”
The woman still held her fan, and upon seeing Yang Yaozong’s astonishment, she smiled radiantly, “Young Master Yang wants to ask why I am here?”
He nodded.
“Last night, I saw the foreigner speaking excitedly with you; it seemed you had made an arrangement. I couldn’t understand everything, but he said the address in our language, so I guessed you’d come here today. I decided to wait here for you. I’m quite interested in his flowers and plants.” As she spoke, a blush crept up her cheeks.
For a woman of this era to wait alone for a man, simply for an unexpected encounter, was bold indeed. Yang Yaozong thought nothing of it, merely smiling at her deduction. “You are observant and thoughtful, my lady. I am honored you waited.”
She laughed at his scholarly praise, “I see you as a friend, Young Master Yang, so please don’t speak so formally.”
Yang Yaozong replied, “Since we are friends, you needn’t call yourself ‘little lady’ either. That’s uncomfortable. If you are ‘little lady,’ should I call myself ‘big man’? Let’s address each other as friends.”
In this era, women had low status, especially before scholars—and many scholars cared deeply about such distinctions. Yang Yaozong’s openness was rare, and for this woman, he was not only a scholar, but a talented man. To be treated as a friend, unconcerned with hierarchy, delighted her.
Her smile grew brighter, and she nodded. She seemed to think of something, tapping her fan gently against her palm and biting her lip as she looked at Yang Yaozong. “Young Master Yang, do you truly wish, as the poem says, for a chance encounter rather than knowing me beforehand?”
Seeing her biting her cherry lips with a hint of coquettishness and charm in her eyes, Yang Yaozong’s heart raced. He thought, “This woman is not only beautiful—perhaps not as striking as the icy fairy, but her innate sensuality makes her even more alluring. Even her smallest gestures carry a fatal attraction. And she has a clever mind—surely not an ordinary lady.” He calmed himself, smiled, and said, “You’re joking, Miss.”
He gave a polite cough, straightened up, clasped his hands, and bowed earnestly, “I am Yang Yaozong. May I know your name?”
The woman saw his sincerity—an attention she had never felt before. Her heart warmed, and she returned the bow. “My surname is Yin, given name Ruxin.” She finished with a sweet smile.
“Yin Ruxin, your name is as beautiful as you are,” Yang Yaozong praised.
Yin Ruxin blushed, but looked at him curiously. Seeing his calm expression, she wondered, “Has he never seen me, or never heard my name?”
Beside him, Little Hua frowned as if recalling something, then examined Yin Ruxin closely and exclaimed, “You—you’re the newly chosen Flower Queen from the Lantern Festival, the one who won all four leading titles, the famous Yin Ruxin?”
At the maid’s words, Yang Yaozong was taken aback. He knew that in ancient times, there were Flower Queens and leading talents—prodigies cultivated by brothels, not just talented but also beautiful, competing in artistry on a special day, judged by renowned scholars.
Yin Ruxin saw even the little maid recognized her, smiled and nodded at her, then looked at Yang Yaozong with greater curiosity. “Is he pretending not to know?”
Little Hua tugged at Yang Yaozong’s sleeve, excited. “Young Master, Miss was a judge for the Flower Queen competition at the Lantern Festival. She praised Miss Yin’s talent and beauty as unparalleled—especially her dancing, which was unrivaled. I wasn’t with Miss that day, and we were far away, so I didn’t see Miss Yin’s face clearly. Plus, her attire has changed, so I didn’t recognize her. Only now, hearing her name, did I realize it.”
Yang Yaozong smiled at her excitement, “Alright, alright, I know.”
He turned to Yin Ruxin and bowed, “Respected Lady Yin.”
Yin Ruxin was startled by his sudden gesture, raised her fan to cover her mouth, and laughed, “May I ask who your wife is? To be a judge for the Flower Queen event, she must be extraordinary.”
Yang Yaozong replied, “My wife is but a mortal, yet a fairy among mortals—a woman of beauty and wisdom. Nangong Qingyi. Yes, my wife.”
The little maid’s heart warmed, hearing him praise her mistress. “Mm… Young Master treats Miss as a fairy.”
Nangong Qingyi—a name well known to Yin Ruxin, though they had never met. In fact, to everyone, including foreigners, some may not know Yin Ruxin, but all know Nangong Qingyi. Even if they haven’t seen her, they’ve heard of her. The foremost female minister of the Great Zhou, the only female strategist—she could command armies, debate in court, talented in both civil and military affairs. Who does not know her? That he was her husband—though it was said he had married into her family. With his learning and talent, why would he accept such a position? Yin Ruxin pondered, amused at herself, but remembered the woman—she had seen her only once, and her beauty was exceptional, with an added heroic spirit. In the company of scholars and officials, she was at ease, showing true feminine strength. Yin Ruxin admired her. Perhaps only Nangong Qingyi could inspire such devotion in this man. But a ripple of comparison stirred in her heart. If she had met him first, would he have married into her family for her? She glanced at Yang Yaozong, and the thought made her blush and her heart race, surprised and embarrassed by her own feelings.
Yet Yin Ruxin did not know that, for Yang Yaozong, she was indeed the one he met first. As for Nangong Qingyi, the famed lady known to all, Yang Yaozong had no concept at all. Still, he praised his wife—after all, complimenting her was like complimenting himself, and her reputation could serve as a shield. He found it amusing, not at all ashamed to be a son-in-law.
Yang Yaozong was surprised to learn Yin Ruxin was the Flower Queen, but not as excited as Little Hua. To him, the Flower Queen was like a celebrity winning a national award in his previous life. He had never been a fan, nor idolized any star. Many would spend lavishly just to glimpse her, but he was indifferent—every profession has its champions, and the Flower Queen was merely the best in her field. Of course, being a champion in any field was impressive, but he kept these thoughts to himself.