Xue Mu took a bath. The water was hot, scented with rose petals—a cliché, but effective. He scrubbed the grime of the journey from his skin, watching the steam rise like spirits.
When he emerged, fresh robes were waiting. Not the coarse hemp of a servant, but fine silk in a deep, midnight blue. It fit perfectly. They're thorough, he noted. Or perhaps they just know a man's measurements at a glance.
He wandered out into the main hall of the Hundred Flowers Manor.
Night had fallen. The manor, quiet during the day, was now a kaleidoscope of lantern light and hedonism. Silk sleeves fluttered, wine flowed, and the air was thick with the scent of rouge and unbridled desire.
Xue Mu leaned against a pillar on the second floor, observing the scene below with a critical eye.
"Young Master Xue," a soft voice came from behind. It was Meng Lan. She had changed into a dress that left very little to the imagination, her earlier embarrassment replaced by professional allure. "Is the accommodation to your liking?"
"It's fine," Xue Mu said, not turning. He pointed to a fat merchant below, who was currently trying to pour wine down a girl's throat while groping her thigh. "Tell me about him."
Meng Lan followed his finger. "That is Shopkeeper Wang. He sells grain. He comes three times a week. He likes... rough play." Her voice was flat, detached.
"And him?" Xue Mu pointed to a young man in white robes, sitting stiffly in a corner, clutching a sword. He looked like he was afraid the furniture would bite him.
"Disciple of the Azure Cloud Sect. A righteous sect," Meng Lan sneered slightly. "They preach abstinence and virtue during the day, but at night... they pay double for privacy."
"Hypocrites," Xue Mu mused. "And us? The Demonic Sect?"
"We sell comfort," Meng Lan said, lifting her chin. "We don't lie about who we are. We take their money, we give them an illusion. It is a fair trade."
"Is it?" Xue Mu finally turned to look at her.
Meng Lan paused. "The world calls us demons because we cultivate emotions and desires. They say we corrupt men. But look at them." She gestured to the chaotic floor. "Did we force them to come here? Did we put the lust in their hearts? No. We just provide a mirror. They hate us because they hate what they see in themselves."
Xue Mu raised an eyebrow. A philosophical hooker. Interesting.
"You have a sharp tongue, Meng Lan," he said. "But let me ask you this: If the Star-Moon Sect is so noble, why are you selling flesh to survive?"
Meng Lan's face darkened. "We do what we must. The Sect needs resources. We have no mines, no land grants from the Emperor. We have only ourselves."
"So you martyred yourselves," Xue Mu said dryly. "How tragic. And how inefficient."
"Inefficient?" She looked offended.
"You're sitting on a goldmine of talent," Xue Mu said, gesturing to a girl playing a lute on a nearby stage. The music was technically flawless, but no one was listening. The crowd was too busy drinking. "But you're selling it like cheap meat."
He pushed off the pillar. "Come with me, Meng Lan. Let's see if we can find a 'good person' in this den of vice."
They walked through the hall. Xue Mu moved with a strange confidence. He had no martial arts, yet he walked like he owned the place. He stopped at a table where a group of scholars were debating poetry while fondling courtesans.
"Gentlemen," Xue Mu interrupted, picking up a wine jug. "A toast to the moon?"
The scholars looked at him, confused. "Who are you?"
"A wanderer," Xue Mu smiled, pouring wine for himself. "I heard a saying: 'The brothel is where the scholar finds his soul, and the general finds his peace.' Do you agree?"
One scholar laughed, drunk. "Well said! In this chaotic world, only here is there truth!"
"Truth?" Xue Mu leaned in. "Or just a place where you can forget that the world is burning?"
The scholar's smile faded. "You speak boldly for a man with no sword."
"I don't need a sword to cut deep," Xue Mu whispered. He downed the wine and walked away, leaving the scholar unsettled.
Meng Lan hurried after him. "What was that? You provoked him."
"Market research," Xue Mu said. "They aren't here for sex, Meng Lan. They're here for validation. They want to feel powerful, intellectual, and desired. You're selling them bodies, but what they really want is an ego boost."
He stopped at the entrance, looking out at the dark streets of the capital.
"The righteous sects sell morality. You sell vice. But you're both selling the same thing: A story. A narrative."
He looked at Meng Lan, his eyes gleaming in the lantern light. "And frankly, your story sucks. It's time for a rewrite."