Chapter 10: Two Paupers Visit the Brothel

Ever since Shen Shi entered the Gongsun Manor, his days were filled with such comfort and delight that he scarcely thought of returning home. Though it wasn’t a grand banquet every five days and a smaller one every three, he was nevertheless blissfully content. In fact, when he mentioned his wish to leave, both Gongsun father and son earnestly tried to persuade him to stay. Only then did Shen Shi truly understand why his own father had gone to such lengths for a mere “student”—even enlisting the help of his mother and wife.

Truly, a real man! After all, what man wouldn’t wish for a life of ease and happiness? Striving for it is only right. However…

“Brother Gongsun, I must bid farewell today.”

Yes, Shen Shi had to leave. It wasn’t just about returning home to assure his family of his safety; more importantly, he needed to uncover the reason behind his imprisonment. Whether or not someone had deliberately set a trap for him, as the person involved, he needed to know.

“My friend, regarding what you entrusted to me, I have managed to learn a few things,” said Gongsun Ce, the young scholar who had brought Shen Shi to the manor. Naturally, he knew the reason for Shen Shi’s desire to depart.

Shen Shi had told him everything about his predicament the very day he arrived. Surely, there was a reason an honest scholar ended up living like a wild man. After Shen Shi had washed, dressed, and paid his respects to the elder master, the latter, having learned of Shen Shi’s misfortune, gave his word that he would help uncover the truth. He then entrusted the matter to his son, Gongsun Ce.

“So, Brother Gongsun, you have news?”

Shen Shi had been prepared to investigate matters himself, assuming nothing had been uncovered. He hadn’t expected any real progress.

“Yes. However, I don’t believe there was any malice involved. If anything, it was your own chivalrous heart…” Gongsun Ce said. Through his inquiries, he’d learned that the original Shen Shi was indeed a man of gallant spirit. When a group of them were caught eating beef—an offense—Shen Shi alone bore the blame for all.

“In truth, eating beef is not such a grave crime. Why, then, were you imprisoned as a condemned criminal? That, I was unable to ascertain,” Gongsun Ce admitted with some embarrassment.

He was an honest gentleman, and not being able to get to the bottom of things left him frustrated.

“My thanks, Brother Gongsun,” said Shen Shi, offering a respectful salute.

After all, Gongsun Ce had tried to help. As for not discovering the culprit, he could blame no one.

In his previous life, Shen Shi had been something of an insider to the bureaucracy. He knew all too well how often inexplicable things happened within the system. It could have been a case of mistaken identity, a prank, or simply someone with a grudge…

To find the single truth among countless possibilities was nothing like the tidy resolutions seen on television. In reality, the rate at which cases were solved, even for murder, was no more than 20%. And that was for homicides—other cases were solved even less frequently, sometimes not even warranting a formal investigation.

Shen Shi’s case, involving nothing more than eating beef, hardly merited an official inquiry. With no written accusation, merely spoken words—sometimes not even that—all it might take was someone’s spite to land a scholar in trouble. Was that possible?

Of course it was. In a world of tens of thousands, there were all kinds of people—some revered scholars, others despised them. There was nothing strange about that.

“So, is this how my story ends?” Shen Shi was not entirely resigned.

“My friend, sometimes it’s best to take a step back and let go,” Gongsun Ce counseled.

What else could he say? Unless those involved came forward themselves, how could one ever learn the truth?

“If only I knew magic,” Shen Shi muttered to himself.

Though his voice was low, Gongsun Ce caught every word and inwardly worried: He wouldn’t resort to the occult, would he? As the sages say: “Respect the spirits, but keep your distance.”

As a scholar, Gongsun Ce naturally didn’t want Shen Shi to get involved with such matters. After a moment’s thought, he grinned and said, “My friend, the courtesan Xihou at Drunken Red Pavilion is famed as a poetess. As men of letters, how can we not pay her a visit? As the saying goes, ‘To live a life without seeing Xihou is to read all the books in vain.’”

Good heavens! Were the ancients really so open-minded? Even in the twenty-first century, one often heard tales of how unrestrained the ancients were—how even eunuchs frequented brothels. Truly…remarkable!

Yes, he was intrigued.

A famous courtesan of old! Women like Li Shishi, Chen Yuanyuan, or Su Xiaoxiao were all said to possess unparalleled beauty that could topple kingdoms.

Shen Shi’s curiosity was piqued.

To come to the past and not witness a legendary courtesan—what a waste that would be! Not to mention, the enterprise he’d worked for in his own time was a military-owned company; while it wasn’t quite the case that “even a sow looked like Diao Chan after three years in the barracks,” he had rarely seen much in the way of true beauty.

Shen Shi stood up at once, startling Gongsun Ce. “Brother Gongsun, let’s go!”

A soldier acts decisively—when he says go, he goes.

Then, realizing he might be too abrupt for these ancient folk, Shen Shi added, “Brothels and restaurants are the best places for gathering information.”

Gongsun Ce blinked, then burst out laughing.

Ah! How easily the ancients were amused.

Had Gongsun Ce known what Shen Shi was really thinking, he might have roared, “Never have I seen such shamelessness!”

But Gongsun Ce was not so innocent himself.

He said, “My friend, have you prepared any poetry? Without a poem, you’ll find yourself in quite an awkward spot. I not only have poems at the ready—I even paid to have them polished.”

Ah…

Truly, never had he seen such shamelessness!

“Hand them over,” said Shen Shi.

“Hand what over?”

“Your poems, of course. Let me see how they read. Surely you don’t want to make a fool of yourself?”

Truth be told, Shen Shi had never seen Gongsun Ce’s poetry before.

“Oh, very well.” Gongsun Ce hurriedly produced two sheets of fine paper from his robe and handed them to Shen Shi, secretly glad for a second opinion.

Having sat for the provincial exam as a student for twenty years, Gongsun Ce’s confidence in his own abilities was…let’s just say, questionable at best.

Shen Shi took the papers and studied them. The calligraphy was in traditional script, and after a long moment’s frown, he came to a conclusion.

He could barely understand them!

Were these really poems, or just a jumble of obscure words?

With a flick of his wrist, Shen Shi tossed the papers back to Gongsun Ce.

“Well, my friend?” Gongsun Ce caught them anxiously, eager for feedback.

“They’re fine,” Shen Shi lied smoothly.

As a transmigrator who had absorbed poetic talent, the first thing he noticed was that the poems didn’t feel at all familiar—almost a death sentence in itself. If they weren’t familiar, they hadn’t stood the test of time. Second, his unique eyes hadn’t reacted to any poetic aura.

Since gaining this talent, his eyes would always respond to works of true poetic spirit—a method he’d developed during his stay at the manor. Unfortunately, in this declining age of magic, though the manor was bustling, he’d yet to detect a single trace of the world’s energy. A pity, but his newfound ability to “see” was reward enough.

Gongsun Ce’s poems had not triggered his sight in the slightest, a sure sign they were destined for obscurity. He might not be able to write poetry himself, but with these eyes, he could certainly judge it.

So, he made up his mind: He would simply join the festivities and catch a glimpse of the famed courtesan. As for composing lofty verses, he would leave that to the so-called geniuses of antiquity.