Chapter 25: The Daughter of Prince Huo

The true Huo Xiaolian resided in the Shaohua Pavilion of the Gentle Quarter—a place primarily inhabited by official courtesans under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Rites, and a gathering spot for scholars and poets. Here, the lives of talented beauties and the grandeur of gilded pavilions formed the most opulent symphony of the era.

Wang Wuniang, having donned men’s attire, brought Murong Huan to the Shaohua Pavilion. The venue was teeming with noise and the sound of singing, as if a competition were underway. Murong Huan felt none of the fervor that the men around her displayed. She was well aware that most of the women here had been reduced to official courtesans due to the crimes of their families. From noble daughters of distinguished lineages to lowly entertainers used for others' amusement, they were held in contempt by the world, even if they did not sell their bodies. She refused to hold them in such low regard.

"Fireflies flit across the Mandarin Duck loom; a wild goose flies by the Magpie Bridge... The Milky Way is visible but untouchable; I wish to board a raft and ask the way."

As the song drifted over, Wang Wuniang led Murong Huan into a spacious hall. Several scholars were reciting poetry, while on the stage, a radiant woman played the zither, surrounded by dancing girls waving flowing water-sleeves.

"Lady Lingxiang’s dance is exquisite, but Lady Xiaolian’s zither playing is even more sublime!" a scholar praised.

"Can it be more sublime than Scholar Song’s 'Ode to the Milky Way'? Hahaha..."

The man’s tone was laced with mockery. Murong Huan could not help but ask, "What are they laughing at?"

Wang Wuniang looked embarrassed and whispered an explanation: "Although this Scholar Song is a fifth-rank official, his character is poor; he is a sycophant who curries favor with the Wu family relatives. Years ago, when the Empress Dowager was still in power, she recruited talented poets as her 'North Gate Scholars.' This Master Song once tried to recommend himself as an intimate minister to the Empress, but he was rejected. Consequently, he wrote this 'Ode to the Milky Way.' While it is a masterpiece of literature, many scholars at the time mocked it as a thinly veiled attempt to... express his affections to the Empress."

"No matter how hard he tried, he never gained the Empress’s favor. Rumor has it that she disliked his bad breath, so she... Because of this, the scholar now brushes his teeth many times a day and keeps cloves in his mouth during court sessions. It has become a standing joke among these scholars!"

"I see!" As Wang Wuniang spoke, impressions of this man began to surface in Murong Huan’s mind. "His name is Song Zhiwen, isn't it?"

"Yes! So, you know him, Young Master Su?"

Murong Huan was momentarily stunned. She could not explain the memories surfacing in her mind—memories that felt like hers, yet not quite. Unable to clarify, she simply nodded and returned to the matter at hand: "Is that the young lady playing the zither Huo Xiaolian?"

As she asked, Murong Huan’s gaze fell upon the strings beneath the woman’s fingers. They shimmered with a dazzling light in the dim candlelight. The woman’s voice was melodic, her smile gentle, and when she occasionally lifted her eyes, they were filled with a melancholic, lingering charm.

Wang Wuniang replied, "Yes, that is she!"

No sooner had they spoken than a voice boomed, "Is Scholar Song’s poetry something you are fit to mock? If you have the ability, why don't you write something better than his 'Ode to the Milky Way'?"

Zhou Xing stepped into view. Upon seeing him, the scholars withered like frost-bitten eggplants; no one dared to utter another mocking word. Zhou Xing’s gaze swept across the room and landed on Murong Huan. "Oh, what a coincidence to see Young Master Su here! I wouldn't have thought a refined gentleman like yourself would frequent such a place."

"Are you here for the top courtesan? Or are you here to vie for poetic fame?"

"I am not very good at writing poetry," Murong Huan replied.

"Oh, so you are here to see the top beauty!" Zhou Xing pointed at the woman playing the zither. "Do you want this Lady Xiaolian?"

At his gesture, the woman stiffened, and the zither music came to an abrupt halt. Murong Huan smiled but said nothing.

Zhou Xing stepped closer. "If you accompany me to my manor, I will buy this Lady Xiaolian’s freedom and gift her to you. How about that?"

"Why is Vice Minister Zhou so interested in me?"

"Then why are you so interested in the case of Zhou Jiulang?" Zhou Xing retorted. "To have volunteered to assist the Supreme Court—have you found any leads?"

He glanced sidelong at Wang Wuniang, who stood nearby. "Why is Wang Wuniang here? Are you two meeting in secret? Could it be that you conspired to murder my son, Jiulang?"

Zhou Xing’s relentless questioning startled Wang Wuniang, and a chill ran through Murong Huan. Was he testing her to see how much she had discovered? The events that transpired at the Su residence that morning, when Lu Ling brought his men, were known only to the Su family. How could Zhou Xing be so interested in her? She could think of no other reason than someone having informed on her.

Suddenly, Ashu cried out indignantly, "Your son committed so many atrocities; there are plenty of people who wanted him dead! What does that have to do with our young master? If you have the nerve, go ask the young women he murdered and threw into the bottom of the well!"

A buzz of shock erupted through the room. "What does she mean? Young women murdered by Zhou Jiulang and thrown into a well?"

Someone added, "I heard Zhou Jiulang died in the abandoned Huo Prince’s mansion. Magistrate Lu sealed it off this morning, and it seems they dug up several skeletons!"

"Are those the missing girls?"

"So, Zhou Jiulang was killed by the vengeful spirits of the girls he murdered?"

Upon hearing this, Zhou Xing’s face turned deathly pale. Just then, a man’s voice called out from the doorway: "Vice Minister Zhou, you don't think everyone you see is the murderer of your son, do you?"

Zhou Xing shivered and turned to see Xiao Muchen entering with his guards, positioning himself to block Zhou Xing’s view of Murong Huan.

"Vice Minister Zhou, you likely don't know yet that the talk of the town in Luoyang is no longer just your son’s case, but the case of the bodies found in the well at the Huo Prince’s mansion! The matter has been reported to the Empress, who is furious. Perhaps you should return to offer your apologies and explain exactly what has been going on?"

Zhou Xing was horrified. Of course, he knew what his adopted son had done, but he had warned him to be clean and leave no evidence. How could the Supreme Court have found it? Terrified, he flicked his sleeves and stormed out.

Xiao Muchen turned his gaze to Murong Huan. "Why are you here?" His tone was displeased.

"To find evidence," Murong Huan replied. She walked up to the zither player and asked, "Are you the daughter of the Prince of Huo, Li Xiaolian?"

Huo Xiaolian was merely a stage name; the daughter of Li Yuangui, the Prince of Huo, should be surnamed Li. "No, that can’t be right. You are too young; you must be his granddaughter at most."

The beautiful girl covered her mouth and giggled, standing up gracefully to approach Murong Huan and Xiao Muchen. "Two distinguished guests today, both so handsome. Are you here for my company?"

Huo Xiaolian reached a hand toward Xiao Muchen, but just before touching his cheek, she turned and reached for Murong Huan’s face instead. "Magistrate Xiao is too austere and unapproachable; I prefer someone as easygoing as you, young master." Her slender fingers traced the line of Murong Huan’s jaw until they reached her chest, where Murong Huan caught her wrist.

Wang Wuniang, blushing, stepped forward. "Xiaolian, stop teasing! She is the benefactor I told you about. If you have something to say to her, speak properly!"

Murong Huan was startled. So, it was Lady Xiaolian who wanted to see her? Huo Xiaolian dropped her playful demeanor, her eyes shifting with a melancholic light. She smiled faintly and gestured for them to follow.

"Very well, please come to my room."

...

As the top star of the Shaohua Pavilion, Li Xiaolian’s room was surprisingly simple. Walnut furniture occupied the space, and the desk held calligraphy by famous masters along with a half-finished piece of writing. Murong Huan picked it up and read: *Easy to seek a priceless treasure, hard to find a sincere heart. Tears fall secretly on the pillow, the heart breaks in the shade of flowers...* At the end, the tone shifted abruptly with the addition of: *"The wind soughs, the Yi River is cold."*

The calligraphy was elegant yet forceful; had she not fallen into this life, she would surely have been a renowned talent of the age.

"Is the story of Huo Xiaolian truly your story? And who was the scholar in that tale?"

"The scholar doesn't really matter; he was nothing but a clown. Do you want to hear my true story?" Li Xiaolian smiled bitterly. "Three years ago, my family fell into ruin. All the women were forced into the Ministry of Rites. My mother led us through poverty. I am skilled at the zither, so I became a courtesan. One day, a scholar became infatuated with my music. He frequented my quarters and eventually bought my freedom. But to my shock, he turned around and sold me to Zhou Jiulang, who then offered me to Zhou Xing to curry favor with his father."

"Since then, I have suffered endless humiliation at their hands, surviving only by swallowing my pride."

As she spoke, Li Xiaolian shed her outer garment, revealing a fair back. Ashu let out a gasp of horror. Murong Huan was stunned; Li Xiaolian’s back was covered in a crisscross of ugly, deep scars—a stark contrast to her beautiful face. Even Xiao Muchen fell into a long, heavy silence.

"Did Zhou Xing and his son do this? Why?"

"Only because I am the granddaughter of the Prince of Huo," Li Xiaolian said with a hollow laugh. "They take pleasure in humiliating the women of noble families to satisfy their twisted desire for revenge."

She knelt before Murong Huan and Xiao Muchen. "I know that as the descendant of a disgraced official, I will never be forgiven. I do not ask for justice, but I have one request: help me bring Zhou Xing to justice. If you do, I will repay you in the next life, even if I have to become a blade of grass to do so."

She bowed her head to the floor, then signaled an old woman to hand a scroll to Murong Huan. Opening it, Murong Huan found a detailed list of the crimes committed by the Zhou father and son: corruption, bribery, and forcing innocent women into prostitution. The end of the scroll contained a map of Zhou Xing’s manor, marking the locations of his treasury, his bedroom, his study, and where he hid his illicit gains.

This was exactly what she needed—an unexpected windfall.

"Why did you choose to give this to me?" she asked.

Li Xiaolian smiled. "Because Wuniang spoke of you. If you could save her, you must have a kind heart. I trust you. Besides, someone sent me a letter, telling me to seek your help."

"Who?"

Li Xiaolian produced a paper crane and handed it to Murong Huan. She opened it to find a single line: *Young Master Su can help you take your revenge, but you must offer the map of Zhou Xing’s manor.*

The handwriting! Murong Huan felt as if she had been struck by lightning: this was her own handwriting.