Once fully dressed, Jin Yue stepped out into the night.
The city had not slept.
Lanterns burned along the streets like floating embers, their red silk skins glowing warmly against the dark. Shadows stretched and folded beneath them as people moved...laughing, arguing, bargaining, stumbling. The air carried layered scents: oil smoke, roasted meat, spilled wine, cheap incense meant to disguise poorer smells.
Jin Yue walked through it all with his head lowered.
His robe brushed the stone softly with each step. The fabric was lighter than what he normally wore, thinner, designed to move with the body rather than protect it. The veil hid half his face, shadowing his features just enough to soften them, to blur sharpness into fragility.
He adjusted his posture deliberately.
Shoulders slightly drawn inward.
Steps shortened.
Breathing shallow.
Not fear...imitation.
Ahead, the Golden Lute Pavilion rose above the surrounding shops like a crowned beast at rest. Its gilded roof caught moonlight sharply, reflecting it in hard lines that reminded Jin Yue of a blade's edge. From within spilled noise...laughter too loud, music too sweet, voices already blurred by alcohol.
This was not a place for the careless.
It was a place where men came to forget who they were, and women learned how to survive what men became.
Jin Yue slowed.
Two guards stood at the entrance, arms folded, weight settled easily into their heels. Veterans. Not soldiers, but not fools either. Their eyes scanned bodies automatically, filtering threat from profit with practiced ease.
One guard lifted his chin.
"You new?"
Jin Yue stopped just short of the threshold.
He did not look up.
The second guard leaned closer, eyes flicking over the robe, the veil, the narrow frame. "You need money and want to work here?"
Jin Yue's fingers tightened briefly at his side...then relaxed.
Slowly, he raised two fingers and pressed them lightly to his throat. His head tilted, just enough. A small, apologetic shake.
The gesture was simple.
Universal.
Carefully chosen.
The first guard frowned, confusion crossing his face before understanding settled in.
"…Oh," he muttered. "She can't talk."
Jin Yue dipped his head slightly in confirmation.
The guards exchanged a glance. One shrugged. The other smirked faintly.
"Silent ones fetch good silver," the second said. "Boss won't complain."
"Yeah," the first added, stepping aside. "Uncle Zhang always wants fresh faces."
Jin Yue bowed...small, obedient...and slipped past them.
Just like that, without a single word spoken, the river-born illusion entered the lion's den.
Warmth hit him immediately.
Not comfort...heat.
Perfume thickened the air, layered and heavy. Sweet floral notes clashed with sharper scents of alcohol and sweat. Music drifted from deeper inside: pipa strings plucked lazily, drums tapping slow and inviting, laughter rising and falling like waves.
Women in silk moved through the hall with practiced grace, their smiles calibrated, their eyes alert even as they pretended softness. Men leaned back on cushions, cups raised, faces flushed and loose with drink.
Before Jin Yue could take two steps, a sharp voice cut cleanly through the noise.
"Stop right there."
He halted instantly.
A woman in crimson robes approached, her steps unhurried, hips swaying with the confidence of someone who owned the ground beneath her feet. Her hair was piled high, threaded with gold pins. Her eyes...sharp, appraising...missed nothing.
Madam Yuwan.
She circled Jin Yue once, slow and deliberate, clicking her tongue softly as if tasting the air.
"Lift your head, girl."
Jin Yue obeyed, raising his chin just enough.
Moonlight brushed pale skin. Long lashes cast shadows beneath his eyes. The veil hid his mouth, leaving the rest to suggestion.
Madam Yuwan stopped.
"…Well," she murmured, genuine surprise slipping through. "Aren't you a delicate little thing."
Her gaze traced him openly. Too openly. Measuring jawline, neck, shoulders. Assessing value.
Jin Yue lowered his eyes again, fingers brushing the hem of his robe in a small, uncertain motion.
"Can you speak?" the madam asked.
He shook his head, fingers once more pressing to his throat.
"Mute?"
A nod.
Madam Yuwan smiled...slow, pleased.
"Mmm. That's even better. Men pay triple for silent flowers."
She reached out suddenly, gripping Jin Yue's chin between her fingers, tilting his face left and right. Her nails were lacquered red, cool against his skin.
"Skin like river jade," she murmured. "Eyes like moonlit glass."
Then her tone sharpened.
"Any illnesses? Scars? Bruises?"
Jin Yue shook his head.
Docile.
Compliant.
If she could see beneath the robe, she would find scars layered over scars...marks from chains, old blades, beatings delivered without witnesses. But none of those stories lived on the surface anymore.
"Good," Madam Yuwan said briskly. "Turn around."
He did.
"Walk."
Jin Yue moved forward.
Soft steps. Measured. Balanced. Not trained sensuality...learned restraint. The madam watched closely, then hummed in approval.
"You'll fetch five tables worth of coin just by crossing the hall," she said. She leaned closer, voice lowering. "Silent, fragile, and pretty. Men lose their minds over that combination."
Inside, Jin Yue felt a flicker of cold amusement.
If only you knew.
Madam Yuwan clapped her hands. "Xiulan! Bring her a ribbon and veil. Not too revealing...mystery sells."
A courtesan hurried over with a tray.
"Tie the ribbon higher," the madam instructed. "She's small. It makes her look more breakable."
Xiulan's fingers brushed Jin Yue's sleeve gently as she adjusted the ribbon. Her eyes held a flicker of sympathy...perhaps sensing something beneath the act.
"All right," Madam Yuwan said, brushing imaginary dust from Jin Yue's shoulder. "You'll start by serving wine. No touching. No singing. Just exist and men will throw silver."
A hand tapped Jin Yue's arm lightly.
"Your first table is waiting."
He nodded.
Madam Yuwan smiled, utterly unaware she had just welcomed a predator into her nest.
The moment Jin Yue stepped into the main hall, the world shifted.
Noise swelled. Cups clinked. Men roared with laughter loud enough to rattle lacquered screens. Music pulsed through the floorboards, vibrating up through his soles.
Jin Yue moved through it like a quiet ripple in a chaotic sea.
Head bowed.
Veil low.
Steps nearly soundless.
No one questioned him.
No one noticed him.
To them, he was just another fragile blossom offered for distraction...another silent figure meant to be looked at, not listened to.
And that was exactly how Jin Yue wanted it.
Because silence, he had learned long ago, was the most dangerous disguise of all.