Chapter 5

A voice rang out before its owner appeared: "I'll buy them all for three hundred taels of gold!"

The uproar nearly took the roof off. The madam wrung her handkerchief in excitement as the crowd parted of its own accord, revealing a young man in wide-sleeved blue robes, hands tucked into his sleeves, strolling out with smiling eyes, a fair-faced page boy trailing at his side.

He stopped in the open space below the stage, three steps from Lord Zheng. Zhao Baiyu turned his face aside. "Hm?"

Yanbing barked, "Well? Aren't you going to see to my master?"

The house guards immediately bowed and scraped, hurrying to bring out a grand chair and fine tea, seating Zhao Baiyu with the utmost deference. The madam's face crinkled into a smile as she asked his name, offered a string of auspicious pleasantries, and confirmed that he truly meant to bid three hundred gold. Once he affirmed it, she loudly announced that Master Zhao's bid was the highest, and that all the girls now belonged to him.

No sooner had she spoken than Lord Zheng, his triangular eyes shadowed with malice, cut in: "Madam had best look again before she speaks. The bidding closes when three sticks of incense burn out—highest bidder within the time limit wins. If I'm not mistaken, wasn't this Master Zhao only arriving just as the incense burned to ash?"

The madam's face fell into a look of difficulty.

Lord Zheng's attendants stepped forward on either side to intimidate her. "Or is Madam deliberately trying to cheat my master because he stands alone?" Their faces were fierce enough to frighten anyone.

That the most overbearing tyrants of the Capital should claim to be the ones wronged was a fine bit of black turned white. But the madam dared not argue—she hastily smiled and apologized. She had no idea what rank this Master Zhao held; he looked like some newly arrived merchant, surely no match for the Honored Consort's nephew!

After only a moment's hesitation, the madam made up her mind and declared the girls belonged to Lord Zheng.

Zheng You crossed one leg over the other and sneered sidelong at Zhao Baiyu. "Some people think that if they show up fashionably late and take a front-row seat, they can steal all the glory. Little do they know that every trade has its rules, and everything runs by rules—especially here, under the Son of Heaven's own feet! The pleasure quarters may be the lowest of the low, but even the lowest of the low have their rules. Even when you're just here for fun, there are rules! No matter where you go, however much power or money you have, you follow the rules!"

Zhao Baiyu wore his hair bound high, tied with a blue cloth band whose loose ends hung down to the small of his back—simple, clean attire that was nonetheless a pleasure to look at. Turned now in profile, his features showed clean lines and an even, fair complexion: a full forehead, a straight nose, the corners of his lips curved upward, radiating an easy, gentle warmth.

"Well said! Nothing is accomplished without rules—I couldn't agree with you more, my friend; do keep at it. That said, I'm still taking this person with me."

Zheng You's face darkened.

Zhao Baiyu said, "Yanbing."

Yanbing stepped forward and lifted the incense burner high. "Everyone, take a good look—"

The crowd craned their necks to see.

"Do you see it clearly? All three sticks of incense have not yet burned out. Two-fen's length still remains."

In those days three fen made roughly a centimeter—two fen was barely visible at all.

"Lord Zheng, do you see it? My master anticipated exactly this trick of yours. The moment he walked in and called his bid, he had me pinch off the incense. So we're still within the time limit. Are you satisfied? Still want to talk about rules?"

Zheng You's triangular eyes reddened with blood, and just as the onlookers, hearts in their throats, braced for his fury, he suddenly clapped his hands and burst out laughing. "I, Zheng You, know when to hold and when to let go—if there's one thing I value most in life, it's the rules of a good game! A few singing girls, that's all—what's the harm in yielding them to you!"

Zhao Baiyu inclined his head. "My thanks for your generosity."

The ordinary singing girls were merely a sideshow; the true prize of the evening was the Capital's celebrated courtesan, Li Yiru. When she was brought up onto the stage, a few more bidders joined in at first, but by five hundred gold the crowd had thinned, and by a thousand gold only Zheng You and Zhao Baiyu remained, matching each other bid for bid.

By three thousand taels of gold, the hall had fallen entirely silent.

Zheng You's face had turned the color of iron. Three thousand gold for a single courtesan was absurd on its face—if it weren't for a certain important person's wishes, he could hardly justify it. Yet the thought of walking away empty-handed tonight galled him.

His attendants leaned in on either side, urging him in low, anxious voices—first, that the money he'd brought wasn't enough; second, that it simply wasn't worth it; and third, that they feared the censors would seize on such reckless behavior to drag down Duke Zheng's Residence, the Honored Consort, and Prince Qin along with him. The Honored Consort and Prince Qin already lived rather lavishly, and certain censors had long looked askance at it; this was no time to hand them fresh ammunition.

Sound reasoning, and yet Zheng You could not swallow the humiliation. He glared murderously at Zhao Baiyu, his pride wounded, and killing intent flared in him—there wasn't a single person of consequence in the Capital he didn't know by face, yet this Zhao fellow was a total stranger. Probably some nobody. Killing him wouldn't stir up much trouble.

He had no wish to break the rules of the game himself, but with every eye in the room on him, if he lost tonight to some green upstart, how would he ever hold his head up in the Capital tomorrow? Would the young lords and wastrels of the nobility still follow his lead?

He might be scorned as a wastrel who did nothing but eat, drink, whore, and gamble all day, but who in the Capital didn't love those very same four things?

Even a wastrel had his own web of connections and information, and eating, drinking, whoring, and gambling were the fastest ways to make money. Without his years of careful cultivation, how could Duke Zheng's Residence maintain its current glory? How else could the Honored Consort and Prince Qin have the resources to contend with the Crown Prince's faction?

Weighed down by so many pressures, Zheng You found he couldn't back down. The blood in his triangular eyes deepened, giving him a rather frightful look.

Yanbing swallowed hard and whispered, "He's not about to go mad and start hacking at people, is he?"

Zhao Baiyu studied Zheng You's manic expression and guessed he had taken mineral powder before coming.

The stuff was less addictive and less toxic than the notorious Five-Mineral Powder, which was why it hadn't been banned outright—but overdosing on it still left a man prone to losing control of his temper. Push him too far, and he might well draw a blade right there. Better to give him what he wanted and let him step off the stage with his dignity intact.

"A graceful beauty, a gentleman's fine match—this ought to be a pleasant affair of romance, so why fight until our faces are red and our necks are strained, and spoil the good feeling between us? Gold and silver are vulgar things; to measure Lady Li's worth by such vulgar means insults her standing as the reigning beauty of the flower district. I hear that Zheng You of the East City is skilled at games of chance, particularly dice-tossing. Why don't we settle this with a single wager—one round decides it, and the beauty goes to the winner?"

Gambling was rampant throughout the Great Jing despite repeated bans, with betting stalls of every kind lining the streets and alleys, wagers large and small. Even nobles within the palace occasionally itched to try their hand, and certain festivals officially permitted gambling for entertainment. So for a fun-loving, gaming-savvy young lord, settling an otherwise unsolvable problem through gambling was the perfect way down from a stage he couldn't climb down from otherwise—losing at gambling was no disgrace, only refusing to honor the loss was shameful.

If you competed on money or ability and lost, you'd lose face badly. But if you lost at gambling, the worst anyone could say was that your skill wasn't up to par—admit the loss gracefully, and you were still a good sport.

And so Zheng You, who had been unable to back down, immediately relaxed his expression and stepped comfortably down the stairs Zhao Baiyu had offered him, even puffing out his chest a little with pride at the mention of his gambling skill. He also felt a flicker of goodwill toward Zhao Baiyu, whose flattery had been so deftly delivered, and thought the man not quite so detestable after all.

"Gladly!" Zheng You said. "Bring up six coin-dice!"

So-called "guanpu" was simply gambling, and dice-tossing was one form of it—much like tossing dice in the modern sense. Six specially made coins were tossed to land face-up or face-down, and whichever side showed the majority of matching faces won.

Zhao Baiyu said, "Lord, please, you first."

"Then I won't stand on ceremony." Zheng You took the coins, shook them left and right, tossed them up and caught them again, his hand tricks dazzling to watch, then finally scattered them across the ground. His attendants leaned in to check and called out, "Five clean!"

Meaning five coins landed face-up—nearly enough to decide the winner outright.

Almost no one could ever throw all six face-up. Just as in the modern world, without rigged dice or a trained hand, it was next to impossible to throw multiple sixes at once.

Zheng You said, full of pride, "My thanks for the courtesy."

He had already counted Lady Li as good as won.

The crowd sighed in sympathy. Li Yiru pressed her lips together, her face ashen.

"I haven't had my turn yet."

"Is there any point?"

"Humor me."

"Ha, ha, ha... go on, then, go on."

"Lord, might I borrow your coins."

"Here you are!"

Zhao Baiyu took the coins. Unlike Zheng You's elaborate flourishes, he simply tossed them with a flick of the wrist—no pause at all—before they clinked to the ground. The crowd held its breath, craning to look. Zheng You's attendants leaned in first and gasped, "Six clean!"

Zheng You shot up from his seat, leaning in to look for himself. Sure enough, all six coins had landed face-up.

Admiration welled up in him unbidden. Zheng You revered neither gods nor heaven, but he had always admired anyone with truly outstanding gambling skill. Not only did he now willingly give up Li Yiru, he found himself wanting to befriend Zhao Baiyu—partly to pry out the secret behind that god-like hand, and partly because he was impressed by how freely the man spent. He even produced an invitation to a game of polo out in the countryside a few days hence.

"It'll be a fine gathering." Zheng You tapped the invitation and cupped his hands toward the direction of the Imperial City. "All manner of important people will be there. Make the acquaintance of even one of them, and it's enough to set you up for a fine career in the Capital."

Zhao Baiyu accepted the invitation with pleasure and asked, "Might Brother Zheng tell me which important people will be attending?"

Zheng You lowered his voice. "The fifth son of the current Chancellor's household—oh, he's the fourth son now. Ever heard of him? If not, never mind—suffice it to say he's a man of standing far above your reach. Know of the Eastern Palace? Know of Prince Qin? Both his friends, his old schoolmates—true scions of the imperial bloodline!"

Zhao Baiyu bowed with great deference and gratitude. "Lord, you have done me a tremendous kindness. If I should have the good fortune to meet these important people and rise in the world through them, I will certainly come to your door to repay you."

That "repayment" from this Zhao merchant was exactly what Zheng You had been angling for.

Just as Zheng You was about to press further about the gambling trick, a servant hurried over and whispered a few words in his ear. Zheng You's expression changed, and he took his leave in haste.

Once the main event ended, the crowd quickly dispersed.

The madam exchanged the girls' contracts of indenture for Zhao Baiyu's promissory note and left thoroughly satisfied.

Yanbing murmured at Zhao Baiyu's side, "Fifth Young Master, what a pair of magic hands—simply divine."

Zhao Baiyu's lips moved slightly. "Your elder brother happens to be the founding ancestor of gambling."

Back in the day, it was his stall-side wagers with strangers on the street that had earned the money to buy Yanbing free in the first place; later it paid for the old nanny's medicine, for Uncle Wei's ransom, and for all their living expenses over the years—all won by disguising himself and slipping into gambling dens. Only once he had legitimate work did he give it up entirely.

Zheng You's gambling skill was truly impressive—but was it a match for skill honed among every rank and rogue of society?

Zhao Baiyu instructed Yanbing, "Take the girls to the carriages and find somewhere to settle them for now."

Yanbing had already had the wit to summon several carriages, and once the singing girls were loaded in, the two of them followed behind on foot as the carriages pulled away.

Only after they had gone did the window of the private room upstairs close.

"That's the fourth son of the Zhao family, born of Grand Princess Changping. He's never been well regarded—mediocre, incompetent, and by all accounts narrow-minded, with a gift for flattery. Not remotely comparable to the fifth Zhao son. Because of your sudden decision, Chancellor Zhao had this Fourth Young Master Zhao take his brother's place—he is now the 'betrothed' His Majesty granted you."

Calling a man his lord's "betrothed" carried an awkward whiff of treating him as a future lady of the house. The deputy frowned, and suppressing his discomfort, produced the promissory note in his palm. "This note is what Fourth Young Master Zhao just used to buy the singing girls. Its serial number matches the note issued to the account that received a large deposit of gold and silver someone recently carried out of the Commandery Prince's Residence. On investigation, that gold and silver was precisely the betrothal gifts carried out of the Commandery Prince's Residence. General, Fourth Young Master Zhao used the betrothal gifts you sent to buy twenty singing girls—including the Capital's most famous courtesan!"

The deputy, who despised nothing more than a dissolute man who trifled with courtesans, couldn't help but add, "A man like that will become a great headache once he's inside the household. Better to submit a memorial to Chuigong Hall at once—Your Majesty is certain to take your side!"

Huo Jingtang idly turned the prayer beads on his right wrist, one bead at a time, and gave a faint smile, his reaction far calmer than the deputy's. "What's his name?"

"Zhao Baiyu. He has no courtesy name."

"Nineteen this year, if I recall?"

"Yes." The deputy studied his expression and, unable to read his mood, ventured, "If he truly is to join the household, perhaps we should send someone to teach him proper conduct right away. At the very least... at the very least he can't keep up this business of consorting with courtesans."

Huo Jingtang said, "Follow behind them and watch."

The deputy said, "You want me to discipline him myself?"

Huo Jingtang said, "No. Just follow." He smiled. "If he keeps the singing girls with him tonight, or means to keep every last one of them around for some romantic fantasy, take them all back."

"Take—take who back?"

Huo Jingtang glanced at him sidelong and said nothing more.

The deputy: "..."

That was that, then—the famously incorruptible General wanted to seize courtesans by force, and take them, without paying a cent, straight from his own "betrothed." Twenty of them at once. Had the years of restraint finally caught up with him?

......

Zhao Baiyu settled the singing girls in a vacant house he had purchased some time before, gave each of them her contract of indenture along with a hundred taels of silver, and once everything was done, said to Yanbing, "Let's go home."

"Please wait, Lord Zhao."

Li Yiru led the girls up to Zhao Baiyu, and together they knelt, foreheads pressed hard to the ground. "Our thanks to our benefactor for saving our lives."

"No need to thank me. Please, rise."

Zhao Baiyu felt a tangle of emotions. In the modern world, these girls would all be victims—the madam and Zheng You, who had forced innocent women into prostitution, deserved to be shot, and even he, having taken part in the transaction, bore some guilt.

"Do as you like with your contracts. Take the silver and go wherever you please. If you truly have nowhere to go, you're welcome to stay in this house."

"Benefactor, true gratitude needs no words, but should you ever have need of Yiru, I will go through fire and water for you." Li Yiru took a wooden box from her maid's hands. "There's no way to repay the debt of saving my life, but I hope you'll accept this small token."

Inside the box lay a fist-sized block of red wood giving off a faint, pungent scent, and beside it a glimmering deep-blue glass hairpin.

Glass hairpins were common these days, not the rarity they'd once been in earlier dynasties, but this one's color, like clear sky after rain, set it apart from ordinary ones. As for the red wood, its nature was unclear—it might well be no common item.

Zhao Baiyu considered a moment, then did not refuse. "I'll hold on to these for you for now. If there ever comes a day you want them back, come find me."

He had no wish to claim credit and demand repayment for his kindness, nor did he want to take what wasn't freely given up.

Li Yiru's admiration for the Vice Prefect of the Capital Prefecture standing before her only deepened—he truly was as upright and incorruptible as they said.

— Author's note —

The deputy: The general's future bride? How awkward.