PCA Chapter 68

Su Cen slammed the table and stood up. “What do you mean by that?”

 

Feng Yiming leisurely sipped his tea. “No need to get angry, Lord Su. The whole of Yangzhou knows that the Wang family’s son-in-law and the eldest young master of the Su family share a close friendship. Back then, it was even your elder brother who acted as the matchmaker for He Xiao and Miss Wang. Without the Su and Yue family connection, do you think the head of the Wang family would have taken a failed scholar as his son-in-law?”

 

Su Cen narrowed his eyes slightly. “He Xiao is He Xiao, and my elder brother is my elder brother. Don’t lump them together.”

 

“Then tell me, how does a scholar with no status or background manage to collude with the government, convince the Jia family, and connect with the Secret Door?”

 

A glint of cold light flashed in Su Cen’s eyes. “I’ll naturally get to the bottom of this, but my Su family has nothing to do with the Secret Door. If anyone tries to use this as an excuse to frame us, I won’t let it slide!”

 

“Let’s hope you don’t end up shooting yourself in the foot, Lord Su.” Feng Yiming set down his teacup, stood up, and looked at Su Cen’s darkened expression with a satisfied smile. Bowing slightly, he said, “Since Lord Su has no intention of keeping me as a guest, I shall take my leave.”

 

Feng Yiming walked out of the room on his own, ready to leave, when he heard someone following him.

 

Su Cen glanced at Qu Ling’er, who was casually cracking sunflower seeds and watching the drama unfold, and instructed Qi Lin, “Escort Lord Feng back.”

 

Seeing the bruises still on his wrists, Feng Yiming instinctively took a step back, wary of Qi Lin. “I can walk back on my own.”

 

“A performance should be convincing,” Su Cen said, his starlit eyes narrowing slightly. “Since we’re pretending that Lord Feng was kidnapped by bandits, we should leave some bandit marks on him, or it’ll be hard for Lord Feng to explain.”

 

Feng Yiming: “…”

 

Qi Lin looked at Su Cen, then at Feng Yiming. He knew very well who was in charge and, given Su Cen’s vengeful nature, dared not defy him. He said to Feng Yiming, “Apologies in advance.”

 

As Qi Lin approached step by step, Feng Yiming turned and bolted. In the dim light, he tripped over a stone slab and fell headfirst onto the door latch, knocking himself unconscious.

 

Su Cen scratched his head, speechless. “…Is he favored by the prince?”

 

Before Qi Lin could answer, Su Cen quickly retreated to the room and distanced himself from the situation. “This has nothing to do with me. Tell the prince he hit his head on his own. Don’t blame me.”

 

Qu Ling’er: “…Brother Su, where’s your earlier bravado?”

 

Su Cen shut the double doors behind him. Bravado? Can you eat that? If Feng Yiming turned out to be good at whispering into the prince’s ear, how would he keep his job?

 

 

—

 

The next day, a notice was posted throughout Yangzhou, offering a large reward for the capture of the bandits who had severely injured Lord Feng. Rumors spread that the benevolent and upright Feng Yiming had been brutally beaten by bandits, leaving him with a bloody head wound. The situation was so dire that Xue Zhi and others personally came to inspect the injuries. Upon leaving, they clicked their tongues and speculated: Did Feng Yiming burn someone’s mountain stronghold or steal someone’s bride? What kind of grudge could lead to such a beating?

 

Su Cen locked himself in his room for an entire day, not daring to step out.

 

 

—

 

Having just arrived in Yangzhou, Su Cen was still piecing things together when he learned that his elder brother had close ties with the salt merchants most likely colluding with the Secret Door. It was a devastating revelation. Even though Feng Yiming was under strict surveillance in Yangzhou, he could still find ways to trip Su Cen up if he wanted to.

 

Su Lan, his elder brother, was eight years older and had spoiled him since childhood. Whenever Su Cen caused trouble, it was Su Lan who cleaned up after him. While Su Cen climbed walls, climbed trees, and defied his tutors, it was always Su Lan who took the blame, to the point that their father would pick up a whip and go after Su Lan without asking questions.

 

Later, seeing Su Cen’s talent for academics, Su Lan voluntarily gave up his own studies to manage the family business. Su Cen had once argued with his brother over this, only to be shut down with a single sentence: “With your personality, you’ll ruin the Su family sooner or later.” Only then did Su Cen settle down.

 

The phrase “all trades are lowly,” with commerce being the lowest of the low, was well-known. Merchants were prohibited from using carriages for travel or wearing silk and satin. Even now, though these merchants were draped in fine silks and possessed immense wealth, their social status remained inferior. Take Cui Hao, for example—despite having only a blind, elderly mother to care for, he still chose to pursue a scholarly career and enter officialdom. If not for him, how could Su Cen’s elder brother have been willing to set aside his studies to become one of these “lowly people”?

 

The idea that his elder brother might have facilitated connections between He Xiao and the Secret Door was unthinkable. The most likely scenario was that his brother had been deceived, misjudging people and allowing himself to be exploited.

 

The problem, however, was that if it turned out He Xiao truly was connected to the Secret Door, then his brother would have played a role in enabling them, inevitably becoming implicated. If He Xiao wasn’t connected, then what was the point of investigating further?

 

No wonder Feng Yiming had so easily laid out the situation in Yangzhou for him. It was all part of a calculated plan—presenting the facts in a way that left him with no clear course of action, forcing him to retreat to Chang’an in disgrace, leaving Li Shi with the impression that he was incompetent.

 

Feng Yiming wasn’t like Xiao Yuancheng, who acted impulsively and openly. he was the type to wear you down with a slow, relentless approach, like a dull knife cutting flesh—leaving you more nauseated than pained by the end.

 

But this case had to be investigated, and it had to be him who did it. The truth, whether gentle or brutal, would remain unchanged. Feng Yiming had spent years carefully building his position; if any evidence surfaced, he would show no mercy. Since that was the case, it was better for Su Cen to take control of the situation, ensuring that the truth wouldn’t be maliciously distorted.

 

As for the consequences… Su Cen spent an entire day drafting a letter of self-reproach. In it, he stated his determination to uncover the truth. If his brother was indeed involved, he would accept his resignation and return home in exchange for sparing his brother.

 

This served two purposes. First, it was a declaration of intent—there was no way to hide his brother’s involvement with Qi Lin present, so he might as well admit it early, easing Li Shi’s concerns and freeing himself from hesitation. Second, he wanted to see whether, if it came to that, Li Shi would actually let him go or not.

 

By evening, Su Cen emerged from his room and handed the letter to Qi Lin. “By whatever means necessary, ensure this letter reaches the prince.”

 

Qi Lin accepted the letter and nodded. “The Weiyuan Escort Agency is our hidden post in Yangzhou. They have their own routes and won’t need to use the postal stations.”

 

“If they have their own routes, then why was Feng Yiming’s report such a hassle to send to the capital?”

 

Qi Lin pressed his lips together. “Feng Yiming doesn’t know about this hidden post.”

 

“Oh?” Su Cen’s eyes narrowed slightly, his mood inexplicably improving. He gave Qi Lin a respectful bow. “Then I’ll trouble you with this task.”

 

After Qi Lin left the courtyard, Su Cen straightened his collar and turned to Qu Ling’er. “Change into something else. I’ll take you to a nice place.”

 

The two set out just as the crescent moon rose, hanging like a delicate eyebrow above the treetops. Exiting through a small side gate, they wound their way to the bustling main street, a scene of vibrant nightlife unlike Chang’an, which enforced a curfew. Yangzhou came alive at night, its night markets even more lively than the daytime. A ten-mile stretch of street remained lit and buzzing with trade, offering a unique charm.

 

For once, Qu Ling’er was allowed to shed his female attire and return to his male guise. He walked with a spring in his step, his eyes darting everywhere. One moment he held a multicolored rice dumpling, the next a crispy snail pastry, nibbling as he walked. He couldn’t help but mutter, “Brother Su, why are you being so generous today? Finally decided to reward me for my loyalty?”

 

When they arrived at Su Cen’s destination, Qu Ling’er was overwhelmed with gratitude.

 

No wonder Su Cen had sent Qi Lin away. No wonder he had asked him to dress as a man.

 

Before them were the same pleasure boats they had seen a few days ago, now brightly lit and welcoming guests. On the decks stood rows of women dressed in vibrant silks, their flirtatious smiles enchanting. Melodic tunes floated from the boats, their lingering notes weaving through the night air.

 

Qu Ling’er rubbed his hands together eagerly, itching to try. In all his life, he’d never experienced the allure of a woman’s fragrance. He’d long heard of Yangzhou’s world-renowned nightlife and romance, but with Qi Lin accompanying them on this trip, he had resigned himself to missing out. Who would’ve thought that Brother Su would be so considerate?

 

Indeed, it was still better for a man to experience it himself rather than just hearing about it from others.

 

Ahead, several large pleasure boats were already pulling up their gangplanks, preparing to set sail. Only the largest boat at the forefront still had a crowd gathered below. As Su Cen and Qu Ling’er approached, they realized why—the crowd wasn’t lingering by choice; someone was blocking their way.

 

“What’s going on?” Qu Ling’er frowned.

 

Standing at the head of the gangplank was a man dressed in lake-blue silk, with a piece of creamy white jade hanging from his waist. His attire and demeanor screamed of an idle dandy. He spread his arms arrogantly, blocking the path. “I’ve already said it—this boat is mine tonight. Everyone else can leave.”

 

The crowd below immediately voiced their displeasure.

 

“Miss Qingchen only appears once a month. What makes you think you can just claim the whole boat?”

 

“You may have bought the boat, but Miss Qingchen might not even want to see you.”

 

“Miss Qingchen is pure and refined. Don’t insult her with your filthy money!”

 

Amid the clamor, Su Cen quickly pieced together the situation. The “Miss Qingchen” everyone was talking about was likely the courtesan of this boat—a flower queen, appearing only once a month. The crowd had gathered just to catch a glimpse of her beauty.

 

Soon, a woman who looked like the boat’s madam stepped out, waving her handkerchief ingratiatingly as she approached the dandy. “Second Young Master, please understand. Miss Qingchen has said that tonight she wants to meet with everyone here. She’s invited all these young gentlemen aboard.”

 

Su Cen chuckled softly. This Second Young Master seemed to be like Xiang Wang, longing for the goddess’s affection, while she remained indifferent.

 

“I’ll add another hundred taels,” the young man said impatiently, “and have all these people sent away.”

 

Judging by his demeanor, this Second Young Master clearly held a significant position in Yangzhou. The madam didn’t dare refuse him outright, so she gently tugged at his sleeve with a nervous smile. “But this is Miss Qingchen’s decision…”

 

The dandy scowled and flung his sleeve, causing the madam to lose her balance. She staggered, teetering on the edge of the dock, about to fall into the water.

 

Suddenly, a faint, fragrant breeze swept through the air. A strip of white silk shot out like a serpent, wrapping around the madam’s waist and pulling her back onto the boat.

 

The madam clutched her chest, exclaiming, “What a close call!”

 

The crowd erupted with excitement. “Miss Qingchen!”

 

A figure stood gracefully on the boat’s railing. Dressed in pristine white, her form was elegant and ethereal. A veil of white gauze concealed her face, but her eyes shone like stars, captivating all who looked upon her.

 

It was no wonder so many people were desperate to see Miss Qingchen. She certainly had the allure to leave people entranced.

 

Her beauty, however, was secondary. What truly surprised Su Cen was her martial prowess.

 

That seemingly soft strip of silk had been wielded with incredible strength, transforming flexibility into rigidity. It was a level of mastery that could only be described as extraordinary.

 

Su Cen had heard of Yangzhou’s custom of raising thin horses—young girls from poor families, bought by matrons, trained in arts like music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, and sold to brothels or wealthy families as concubines once they matured. These girls were often well-educated, their talents rivaling those of scholars who had studied diligently since childhood.

 

But martial arts? That was unheard of.

 

Matrons typically avoided teaching their girls martial arts, fearing they might escape once they had the skills.

 

So, if Miss Qingchen possessed such exceptional abilities, could she not be one of these thin horses?

 

But then, why would a girl of such talent choose this profession?

 

Before Su Cen could ponder further, Miss Qingchen spoke up: “All who come are guests. I, Qingchen, thank you all for honoring me with your presence. Since you’re here, please, come aboard.”

 

With that, she offered a slight bow and returned to the upper deck of the boat.

 

The dandy in colorful attire seemed to transform completely. Gone was his arrogance, replaced by a sheepish grin as he trailed obediently behind Qingchen onto the boat.

 

The crowd surged forward, eager to board, fearing they might miss out on a good seat if they delayed.

 

Only after the throng had boarded did Su Cen begin to move. But when he turned back, he saw Qu Ling’er standing frozen, his face a picture of despair.

 

“Brother Su, can I not go?” he pleaded, almost in tears.

 

 

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