Volume One: First Steps into the Martial World as an Immortal Chapter Fifteen: The Drunken Dream Pavilion in Langya City, and Within the Pavilion, You Fall Short

That night, aside from the soldiers on duty, all of Lecheng was alive with laughter and joy. For border guards like them, opportunities to drink so freely were rare.

On the parade ground, the soldiers sat cross-legged on the earth. As men stationed at the frontier, they were unaccustomed to such formalities, and all eyes turned toward the woman seated at the place of honor upon the dais, awaiting her address.

Nangong Wan’er had visited the army before, but this was her first time coming in her capacity as Princess Consort. As she looked out over the assembled Liang Prefecture soldiers, she realized that, aside from the six great generals, all were unfamiliar faces.

Nangong Wan’er rose, stepped to the edge of the platform, and spoke to the soldiers below. “Before I came, His Highness told me that the Liang Prefecture Army has changed. You are no longer the hungry men who followed him through campaign after campaign for a mere bowl of rice. You have become men united by love for home and country, each of you burning with passion, each of you fighting for your families and the people behind you. Now that I see you, I know His Highness spoke truly. You are all sons to be proud of, and today, I, Nangong Wan’er, must toast you.”

At her words, a maid hurried forward with a wine cup. She took it, looked at it, and raised her voice. “Though I am not a soldier, I have spent long years with His Highness among the troops. You are all true men—what use have we for these tiny cups? Bring me a bowl.”

Someone quickly handed her a rough earthenware bowl, the kind used by the army. Nangong Wan’er held it up. “This is how men should drink. Since I am here, I cannot act differently. Fill it to the brim.” The maid cradled a small wine jar and poured until the bowl was full. Nangong Wan’er did not look at how much wine there was, but instead gazed at the officers and men, and spoke.

“This first bowl, I drink in honor of all your hardships defending the border. Nangong Wan’er admires each of you.”

“This second bowl, I drink to your sacrifices, leaving your homes for the greater good. The people of Liang Prefecture thank you.”

“This third bowl, I drink to your courage and valor on the battlefield. The sons of Fengyang look up to you.”

She drank three bowls in succession. Huo Ye, one of the six great generals, had meant to rise and stop her early on, but Wei Yan beside him pressed him down with a hand. Only when Nangong Wan’er had finished all three did the six generals stand, raising their bowls and shouting, “To Her Highness!” The soldiers below followed suit, bowls lifted high in salute, “To Her Highness!”

Nangong Wan’er smiled. “Drink your fill, everyone!” She returned to her seat at the head of the table.

Three hundred li from Lecheng lay the true frontier, a stretch of desolate Gobi, an uninhabited wilderness where, in theory, no one should live. Yet here, a vast military encampment stood—the very private army of Liang Prefecture whispered about in the outside world.

Atop a high slope outside the camp, four figures stood looking toward Lecheng. They were the other four of the ten great generals: Xing Xiyang, Qin Muyu, Gu Ruochun, and Sui Rugé.

“The Princess Consort’s visit to Lecheng was said to be an inspection, but in truth she bestowed favor upon the soldiers, paving the way,” Qin Muyu, known as the Scholar General for his refined looks, said, his brow tightly furrowed.

“She’s preparing the way for the young heir already? Isn’t it rather hasty? His Highness is still hale and hearty. And I’ve heard the heir is the greatest wastrel in Liang Prefecture—how could such a man command us?” Sui Rugé said with a trace of discontent.

“His Highness’s intentions are not for us to guess. Even if all of Liang Prefecture accepts the heir, the capital will not acknowledge him. Without imperial sanction, it’s not legitimate.” Gu Ruochun added.

“Will the Princess Consort come here?” Sui Rugé asked again.

Qin Muyu turned to look at him. “She won’t. It’s widely rumored that His Highness commands two hundred thousand private troops, but Liang Prefecture has never officially admitted it. The Princess Consort would not come here, lest she invite censure.”

“Anyone with sense knows about the private army. Anyone can calculate that the grain and pay consumed by Liang Prefecture each year would support three hundred thousand troops. But why does His Highness raise so many men and hide them in these mountains? That, I cannot fathom.” Sui Rugé mused.

The four fell silent, the only sound the wind howling through the valley at night.

The four remained standing straight, their eyes fixed on Lecheng.

In Langya City, Chu Mingxuan had spent the previous night gathering information with the little Daoist Fuming. Discovering several interesting spots in town, he resolved to visit them, since they would be staying for a few days.

On the street, Chu Mingxuan dragged the reluctant Fuming toward one such scenic site, talking as they walked. “Fuming, if Fatty hadn’t been injured, do you think I’d be dragging you along? Besides, the Drunken Dream Pavilion is famous here in Langya. Countless young men squander fortunes there in a night, with beauties flocking to them. I’ve heard the top courtesan, Xiao Hanmei, is a true peerless beauty—renowned for her talents, not for selling her body. The city’s finest scholars can only sigh with longing. With the two of us, surely we can win her over.”

Passersby stared at them in astonishment, wondering what kind of fools these were.

But the heir apparent had never cared for others’ opinions. Back in Liang Prefecture, no matter what people said, he always did as he pleased.

Fuming, his face flushed, protested, “If you wanted to see the scenic spots, I’d be happy to join you, but this is a place of debauchery. How can a Daoist like me go there?”

Chu Mingxuan ignored him, insisting on dragging the Daoist along. To him, so long as you were a man, that was enough—he cared little for whether you were a Daoist or not.

At that moment, a crisp voice called out from the crowd, “Young master, aren’t you shameless! Speaking so loudly of such places and their women, and dragging a Daoist along! Have you no shame?”

Chu Mingxuan stopped and looked toward the voice. He saw a person dressed in fine robes, folding fan in hand, hair adorned as the son of a noble house, with refined and pure features—yet the expression was full of disdain.

Chu Mingxuan had seen enough women in Liang Prefecture to have a discerning eye; it was obvious at a glance—the speaker was a woman dressed as a man. This piqued his interest, and he smiled, approaching.

“And what is your meaning, sir? I was speaking only of visiting scenic spots. When did I mention a house of ill repute? Xiao Hanmei is renowned for her mastery of music, chess, calligraphy, and painting—the most extraordinary woman in Langya. She’s said to sell only her art, not her company—how could she be called a courtesan?”

“Hah! No matter how you explain, isn’t it true you’re forcing the Daoist to go somewhere against his will?”

“As a gentleman, hearing of Langya’s famed sights, I naturally invite a friend along. If I were to go alone, would that not be neglecting my companion for the sake of scenery? He’s rather shy, so I must be persistent in my invitation. Or are you the sort to be easily persuaded to go somewhere?”

“You… You’re simply shameless, arguing so glibly! Let’s hear it from the Daoist—are you being forced to go?” She glared at Fuming.

Fuming, amused by their exchange, found himself suddenly in the spotlight. He straightened and replied, “I think he’s right. It doesn’t matter if I’m a Daoist—as long as I’m a man.”

“You… How did the Daoist sects produce someone like you?”

Chu Mingxuan interjected, “Since we’ve met, it must be fate. May I ask your name, sir?”

“I am Mu Ruxue,” she replied, her tone polite but cool.

What she didn’t realize was that Chu Mingxuan was thinking, “Disguising yourself as a man and not even changing your name?” But he merely said aloud, “So it’s Young Master Mu. I am Chu Batian of Liang Prefecture.”

Mu Ruxue wrinkled her nose in disdain. “So you’re Chu Batian? What a name.” But she still replied, “A pleasure.”

“Since Young Master Mu holds such disdain for so-called houses of pleasure, you must be above such things. I suppose you’ve never set foot in one?”

“I can’t claim to be so lofty, but I do keep myself proper. Still, each to his own. If you enjoy such places, who am I to judge?” Mu Ruxue fiddled with her fan.

“Oh! Young Master Mu must be well-traveled, yet perhaps still lacking in experience. Life is a journey, full of wanderings. If you’ve never been to such a place, it’s not because you’re high-minded—perhaps you simply can’t. But I understand; after all, you’re just a caged bird.”

“You’re the caged bird!” Mu Ruxue retorted, then seemed to regret her words and fell silent.

“Then why not dare to go?”

At the Drunken Dream Pavilion in Langya City, Chu Mingxuan and Fuming arrived to find the place lively even by day, one of the most bustling establishments in town.

Chu Mingxuan glanced at Mu Ruxue, teasing, “Young Master Mu, why is your face so red? Is it the heat?” He looked up at the sky.

“It’s overcast today, and there’s a breeze. How could it be hot?” Fuming replied.

Mu Ruxue had ended up coming with them, her heart pounding at the thought of her first time in such a place and her true identity. Now, hearing Chu Mingxuan’s words, she forced herself to appear calm. “I’m just wearing too many layers,” she said.

Chu Mingxuan smiled, knowing well the true reason for her blush. But since she wished to keep up the pretense, he was content to let her.

The three of them entered the Drunken Dream Pavilion, surrounded by a bevy of young women. Chu Mingxuan was used to such scenes; Fuming looked around in fascination, clearly enjoying himself. Only Mu Ruxue appeared uncomfortable, repeatedly asking the girls to keep their distance.

As they entered, the madam of the house approached. With her practiced eye, she could always spot big spenders.

“Oh my, such unfamiliar faces! This must be your first time at the Drunken Dream Pavilion. Let me tell you, in all of Langya, no house has more beautiful girls than ours!” she exclaimed, beaming.

“Where is your star performer? I came to hear her play,” Chu Mingxuan said coolly.

“You mean Hanmei? She’s been unwell these last few days—not fit to perform, I’m afraid. But we have many talented girls—I’ll send a few who are clever and charming to entertain you.” She turned to call upstairs, “Xiaofang, Xiaomei, come down and greet the guests—”

Before she could finish, Chu Mingxuan flashed a piece of gold before her eyes. She fell silent at once, her gaze fixed on the gold as she quickly accepted it with both hands. “I’ll fetch Hanmei at once. Please, sirs, head upstairs to a private room and wait.”

Chu Mingxuan smiled, heading upstairs. Fuming followed happily, while Mu Ruxue, though looking down on his antics, couldn’t help but be curious about his identity—flinging gold around so casually. So she followed them up as well.