Chapter Twenty-One: Flowers Laid to Rest in the Vermilion Mansion, A Wager of Espionage

The three of them followed his gaze.
“What are you looking at?”
Leng Yue shot Han Chong a sidelong glance.
“Something’s off,” Han Chong muttered gravely.
“Nonsense.”
“Heh! I say, Captain Han, as demon-slayers, nothing is more taboo for us than women. If one loses oneself to desire, it becomes impossible to ever break through to the Realm of Spirit Refinement!” Captain Ning glanced at the painted house, smiling as he offered his reminder.
But Ouyang Jingguan also arched an eyebrow, his expression cold, as he gazed up at the red pavilion.
“Thank you for your advice, Captain Ning. Young Master Ouyang, have you noticed anything?” Han Chong cupped his hands in acknowledgment, then turned to Ouyang Jingguan.
He saw that Ouyang had already begun to calculate with his fingers.
A moment later, as if he had worked something out, Ouyang smiled and said calmly, “My friends, the demon’s lair is most likely right here in this red pavilion ahead!”
“What!” Captain Ning and Leng Yue both looked startled.
“You and I are of the same mind, Young Master Ouyang. As the saying goes, ‘the greatest concealment is in the marketplace.’ If a demon hides in a brothel, gambling den, or inn—places thick with the scum and dregs of society—it's all too easy to go unnoticed!” Han Chong nodded in agreement.
“Hmph! Or perhaps the two of you just want an excuse to visit such a filthy place!” Leng Yue said coldly.
Yet, Captain Ning’s heart was moved, and he actually nodded unconsciously, earning an even frostier look from Leng Yue.
“Since Young Master Ouyang thinks so as well, let us go and see for ourselves. The truth will soon be clear!”
Captain Ning shook his head and sighed with a wry smile, but made his decision nonetheless.
Leng Yue, face as cold as ice, had no choice but to follow after the three as they strode off.
“Well, well! Master Wang, what brings you to our humble establishment today? Please, come in! Miss Biyun dreams of you day and night.”
At the door, a burly man with a large black mole on his right cheek bent low in welcome, ushering a man of forty in a flowered red robe and ornate cap into the building.
...
“Hey, hey! You four—what are you doing here?”
As Han Chong and his companions reached the door, the man with the black mole noticed their attire and immediately rushed forward to block their way, his face full of disdain.
The four of them were inwardly furious; just moments ago, this lackey had been fawning obsequiously before the middle-aged gentleman, and now he looked down his nose at them!
“Are you blind? We are officers of the Demon-Slaying Department, here to investigate. How dare you try to stop us!”
Captain Ning’s face darkened, his eyes flashing coldly.
“Ha! The Demon-Slaying Department? It’s nothing but a powerless figurehead. Do you know where you are? This is Mourning Blossom Pavilion! Mere constables like you have no business here. If you know what’s good for you, get lost!”
Ten burly men in black, fierce and intimidating, immediately stepped forward and blocked the entrance completely.
Each had a mass of black hair on their chest and tattoos, their temples bulging—they were all masters of internal martial arts! The man with the black mole looked all the more pleased with himself.
“Outrageous! In the heart of Peijun Prefecture, there is a place that defies the law? Today I’ll teach you the might of the imperial law!”
Captain Ning was furious. As a sixth-rank officer, even the county governor would show him respect. Yet here he was, being humiliated at the door of a mere brothel—it was intolerable.
“Hmph! You wouldn’t dare lay a hand on me. Let me tell you, Mourning Blossom Pavilion is the property of Lord Marquis Lingzhen. Not just your little Demon-Slaying Department—even the regional governor can’t touch me! If you so much as lay a hand on me, you’ll lose your job and end up in jail!”
The man with the black mole smirked, brazenly invoking the name of some marquis.
“Marquis Lingzhen!” Captain Ning’s eyes narrowed slightly. He forced down his rage, pondered for a moment, then gave a cold snort and led his companions away.
They crossed the street and entered a tavern opposite the brothel, claiming a private booth by the window on the third floor.
“Captain Ning, who is this Marquis Lingzhen? What is his rank?” Han Chong asked solemnly, cupping his hands.
Captain Ning drained his tea in one gulp, his anger slowly ebbing as he spoke evenly, “Captain Han, you’re new here, so you may not know the ways of officialdom. Though our Demon-Slaying Department has special privileges when dealing with demons, we are not beyond all restraint.
Outwardly, our empire is divided into provinces, prefectures, and counties, but there are remnants of the old feudal system that are hard to abolish—none more so than the Eight Princes and Sixteen Marquises.
Marquis Lingzhen was one of the founding heroes and granted a hereditary title for his great deeds. Though technically without power, even the highest ministers must show a marquis some courtesy.
To think this brothel is his property—this will be difficult.”
“Heh, Captain Ning speaks true. These feudal lords are powers within the state, and not to be trifled with,” Ouyang Jingguan remarked with a raised brow.
“Of course, Young Master Ouyang, hailing from the capital, knows much of the world. Since we can’t force our way in, perhaps we must rely on cunning. Shall we make a wager?” Han Chong suggested.
“Oh? Intriguing! What shall we wager?”
“Let’s see which of us can infiltrate Mourning Blossom Pavilion and capture the demon undetected, then spirit it away unnoticed. What do you say?”
Captain Ning looked at Han Chong in disbelief. This wager was preposterous! Even with his rank and skill, he had little hope of entering the brothel, let alone capturing a demon and sneaking it out.
“Hah! Is that all?”
A flicker of surprise passed through Ouyang Jingguan’s gaze; he hadn’t expected Han Chong to be so bold. He couldn’t help but smile.
“Very well, let’s begin. Ouyang, you go first!”
“Agreed.”
With a gentle shake of his folding fan, a pale mist rose with a soft puff, obscuring everything within.
Two breaths later, the mist cleared, and Ouyang Jingguan had transformed into the very same middle-aged gentleman they had seen at the door earlier.
The three exchanged glances, quietly impressed.
Truly, this man deserved his reputation as a favored disciple of the Imperial Observatory: to perform such a transformation before three demon-slaying officers, and with such perfect imitation of face, complexion, dress, and bearing!
“Haha! Brother Ouyang, your art of instant disguise is truly wondrous. I am in awe!”
“A mere parlour trick, unworthy of mention!”
Even Ouyang’s voice had changed, matching his new appearance perfectly.
“Well?” he asked Han Chong.
“You are indeed most impressive, Young Master Ouyang. But who will emerge victorious remains to be seen.”
Han Chong nodded, then suddenly his eyes flashed. He stood, sprang up, and leapt out of the window!
The three others were stunned and rushed to the window, but Han Chong had already vanished without a trace.
“Invisibility!”
Now, not only Captain Ning but even the always self-assured Ouyang Jingguan was inwardly shaken.
“Captain Ning, who on earth is Captain Han? Such talent is rarely seen!”
“That... I can’t say for sure. Perhaps Captain Leng can tell us.”
He looked awkwardly at Leng Yue.
“He was just a minor constable before. I know nothing more,” Leng Yue replied impassively.
Ouyang Jingguan frowned but quickly regained his composure, smiled, and took his leave.
...
The scent of heavy powder and rouge!
Under the veil of his invisibility, Han Chong strode into Mourning Blossom Pavilion, frowning as he glanced around.
Inside, the courtesans were all alluring and radiant, greeting and bidding farewell to guests with practiced charm—save for one.
A woman dressed all in white, unsullied by the dust of the world, sat alone by a window on a high balcony, gazing out at the bustling street below. She seemed utterly out of place.
Up close, she was pale and fragile as the legendary beauty Xi Shi, her delicate fragrance fading with each breath. All the nobles and officials in the house would gaze at her and sigh in pity.
How strange, to find such a one in a place like this. Han Chong folded his arms and pondered.
“Ruyan, you silly girl! Still pining for that poor scholar? He couldn’t even pass the provincial exams—how could there be anything between you? Tend to your clients properly, or you’ll have the mistress to answer to!”
A matronly woman, likely the madam, was scolding her.
Yet the girl called Ruyan merely looked on in sorrow, unmoved, and the madam dared not lay a hand on her.
There was no doubt now—a demon dwelled here. If it were a malevolent fiend, Han Chong would have slain it at once.
But this one, unlike the others, seemed pitiful and obsessed with unrequited love.
Perhaps tired from sitting, the young woman sighed, stood, and walked toward a fragrant chamber. Han Chong quickly followed.
She closed the door, lay on her bed, her eyes filled with sorrow, and murmured to herself,
“Zhilan, what am I to do?”
“What a lovesick demon you are. Do you wish to see your Zhilan? I can help you.”
“Who—who’s there?” Ruyan gasped, her eyes suddenly gleaming green, sharp fangs bared as she scanned the room in alarm.
“You little demon—though lovesick, you are quick-witted indeed.”
Han Chong revealed himself, sitting by the table, pouring himself a drink.
“Who are you? How can you hide your presence like that?”
The young woman paled, covering her mouth with her hand, kicking her feet against the bed as she shrank back in fear.