Chapter Seventy-Five: A Spectacle? (Seeking Followers)

(1/3)

Dawn broke gently over the city…

Xu Boqing glanced down at the demoness nestled in his arms, who had at last succumbed to exhaustion and drifted into deep slumber. He could not help but rub his wrist, where a pair of blood-soaked bite marks stood vivid and raw.

He had only meant for the scapegoat to vent her grievances a little…

Yet Zhu Sisi had bitten with true ferocity, as if determined to tear away a chunk of his flesh, unrestrained and merciless. She had been equally unreserved in drawing his vital energy.

Shaking his head with a sigh, as if a sudden thought had occurred to him, he reached for the bronze mirror atop the bedside dressing table.

In its reflection, his complexion appeared sallow, his eyes clouded; the signs of dissipated spirit and energy were even more pronounced than those he had witnessed on the streets.

But then, the inner furnace of his body roared to life, sending sparks of light coursing through his limbs and bones. In a heartbeat, the pallor vanished, his gaze cleared—he was restored once more.

With great care, he laid Zhu Sisi down, rose to dress, and slipped quietly out the bedroom door.

No sooner had he stepped into the corridor than a commotion reached his ears.

Xu Boqing frowned slightly and made his way to the second-floor railing, peering down to find a crowd gathered at the brothel’s main entrance. There were girls from the House of Yearning, mingled with curious patrons, all seemingly embroiled in some quarrel.

His brow arched as he descended the stairs, only to see that several scolding matrons had blocked the front door, leaving barely a gap to squeeze through. Xu Boqing tapped the shoulder of a nearby onlooker.

“Brother, what has happened here?”

The man glanced back, brow furrowed. “Don’t call me brother—say ‘fellow cultivator’…”

Xu Boqing paused, then gave a respectful nod and smiled. “Fellow cultivator, what’s going on here?”

At the address, the man’s face broke into a sly grin and he raised his eyebrows. “What else? A few old wives claim their men have been bewitched by the House of Yearning and have come here to stir up trouble.”

“Old wives… causing trouble?”

Xu Boqing stood on tiptoe to get a better look.

Those women had dragged a few benches from who knows where and set them across the entrance. Each perched on her own bench, hurling curses and insults with abandon.

But the girls of the House of Yearning were not to be outdone. Under the direction of a few formidable madams, they shot back sharp-tongued retorts, trading barbs with the matrons.

“Is this any fun?” the onlooker asked, seeing Xu Boqing’s frown and mistaking it for confusion. He winked conspiratorially. “A man’s grain store is only so big, and if it’s all spent here at the House of Yearning, what’s left to take home? Of course their wives are angry!”

“Haha, well said…” Xu Boqing cupped his hands in thanks, then made his way toward the entrance.

(2/3)

After a moment’s thought, he reminded himself he was just a guest here, with no quarrel with these women—they should have no reason to make things difficult for him. He turned sideways, preparing to slip through the narrow gap in the ‘bench barricade’…

Yet, though the matrons were formidable, they were outnumbered by the brothel’s madams and girls, and found themselves at a disadvantage in the exchange of insults. Already simmering with frustration, how could they let someone slip past them and escape?

Several of them rose to block Xu Boqing’s way, glaring fiercely as they sparred with the brothel girls.

Meanwhile, outside the House of Yearning, an old farmer who had been watching the scene suddenly seemed to spot something extraordinary. His eyes widened, and after a furtive glance at the portrait in his hands, he slipped away, grinning.

Having found no satisfaction in words, the matrons now stood, hands on hips, facing down Xu Boqing.

“Not so fast! Young and already so depraved, coming to a pleasure house for amusement? Shame on you! What a waste of that face!”

“You’re a disgrace, lad! With looks like yours, there’s no woman you couldn’t marry, yet you consort with these rotten harlots?”

Xu Boqing was momentarily stunned, baffled as to why their ire had shifted to him.

He wanted to explain himself, but before he could speak, the brothel girls had come to his defense, hands on hips.

“Well, well! Who was it making all the noise and bringing benches to scold at our door? Who’s really shameless here?”

“That’s right! Some people are built like barrels and can’t keep their own husbands in check, so they come here to make a scene—blocking the way and calling others rotten? Look who’s talking!”

Some of the girls recognized Xu Boqing from the day before and, knowing he had spent the night with one of their madams, treated him as one of their own. A few pulled him behind them protectively, whispering words of comfort: “Young Master Xu, pay no mind to these shrews,” “We’ll stand up for you,” “Come back inside and relax a while.”

Xu Boqing could hardly have imagined being ‘protected’ under such circumstances.

He nodded, his expression odd, but said nothing more. He was about to retreat and find a window from which to slip out when a sudden clamor of gongs sounded from outside, and the crowd parted to clear a path.

“The City Magistrate arrives!”

At this cry, a squad of constables in dark livery shoved their way through the throng.

Behind them strode the magistrate of Hongyang, recognizable by his blue official robes and impressive mustache.

The moment the authorities appeared, the two warring factions and the onlookers fell instantly silent.

The magistrate cast a leisurely glance around, his tone full of officialdom. “Who will tell me, for what reason does a crowd gather before the House of Yearning?”

At this, the matrons hurried forward and fell to their knees, tears streaming as they cried out, “Your Excellency, we beg you to uphold justice for the common folk…”

(3/3)

As if rehearsed, the women began their lament in perfect order—at first bemoaning their misfortune, then swiftly turning their accusations: the brothel’s women, they claimed, were all fox spirits in human guise who ensnared and ruined men.

They spared no effort in slinging mud.

Sheltered behind the brothel girls, Xu Boqing frowned. After years dealing with cunning rogues in the capital and prison, he saw through the act in an instant—too contrived, too false.

Moreover, Hongyang was one of the capital’s guard cities, under strict oversight of the Western Depot. Xu Boqing knew the magistrate had his own lucrative enterprises and was not one to act without profit.

Now, with the brothel’s entrance blocked and the magistrate arriving with his men, it was clearly more than a simple matter of ‘justice for the people.’

As expected…

At first, the magistrate merely squinted, stroking his mustache. But when the women declared the brothel’s girls to be fox spirits, his expression hardened. He barked, “What audacity! Evil spirits running amok in my Hongyang!”

His performance was crude, but against a mere pleasure house, subtlety was unnecessary.

Seeing the magistrate’s feigned outrage, several of the madams hurried forward, prostrating themselves to plead on behalf of the House of Yearning.

But the magistrate waved them off impatiently. “Whether this house harbors monsters will soon be clear. I will have my men search the premises!”

He promptly ordered his constables to begin their search.

Xu Boqing watched as two squads of officers entered, already certain the brothel was about to suffer a setback.

As he had expected, the constables barely glanced upstairs, searching only the ground floor before triumphantly dragging out several dead foxes, shouting, “We’ve caught the monsters!”

The matrons looked on with spiteful satisfaction, while the crowd of onlookers gasped in fear.

Only the brothel’s girls were bewildered—they had no idea where the dead foxes had come from.

The magistrate adopted a soothing tone: “Fear not! I am here. With the righteous authority of Heaven and Earth, no demon can work evil here!”

But as his constables surrounded the girls, they fell to their knees in terror.

Some of them did, indeed, practice a bit of ‘energy gathering’—but only to make a living, never to truly harm anyone, much less being actual fox spirits.

The older madams wept and pleaded their innocence.

The magistrate snorted coldly, his tone brimming with ‘righteousness’: “With such irrefutable evidence before us, what defense can you monsters possibly offer?!”

…