HCAW 5
by LiliumChapter 5– Fragrance Curtains Stirring in the Wind
With the arrival of Lord Yu Ji of the Xian Mountain Guards imminent, Zui Chun Garden bustled like the height of the New Year.
Silken lanterns were hung from the corridors, flooding the garden with light as bright as day. Courtesans donned flowing robes with wide sleeves, singing and dancing with grace, like fluttering butterflies.
Zui Chun Garden was a crown jewel among all the pleasure quarters, its pavilions situated in the heart of the bustling city, adorned with winding galleries and glittering ornaments. It housed not only dazzling female performers but also refined young male singers; music and laughter filled the halls. It was a haven of luxury for noble officials and high-born guests.
Now, the Yu Ji Guard—one of the most powerful men in the entire Xian Mountain—was due to visit, a single breath from him enough to send shivers across all Penglai. As such, every courtesan and performer spared no effort in grooming and dressing themselves in finery, desperate not to offend his eyes and end up cast aside in the cold.
Yet amid all this splendor, one person remained utterly disinterested. Even as the sun rose high, he lay sprawled out on the couch, limbs flung in every direction, drooling in his sleep.
White sunlight scorched the corridors. A young servant passed by, ringing a bell. He slid open the doors and brought in a wooden tray with porridge and side dishes, calling out, “Young master, time for breakfast.”
Just as the words left his mouth, a shadow flashed before his eyes. The person who had just moments ago been collapsed on the couch like a pile of mud suddenly sprang up like a bat with spread wings, leaping toward him. Startled, the servant lost his grip—the tray slipped—but the food didn’t spill. The figure had already snatched both bowls with steady hands and caught a salted duck egg in his mouth mid-air, chewing furiously.
Upon closer look, the youth was disheveled and unkempt, hair wild, wearing a loose robe of plain silk. Only his left eye peeked out from under the mess of hair, its gaze drowsy and desolate, like smoldering ash. The servant sighed—this was the courtesan recently sold into the garden. He had a striking face, but an odd and standoffish nature. Who knew what quality the madam had seen in him?
The servant recalled how the youth had looked when first brought to the upper floor—wrapped in a torn straw mat, covered in wounds, blood soaking the oiled wooden floor. He’d helped dress the youth’s injuries and seen his lithe, animal-like frame, lean and honed, crisscrossed with scars like a starry sky.
The memory softened him. Perhaps this one was pitiful too—who knew which fiery-tempered master had beaten him so cruelly?
As he bent to pick up the tray, the youth mumbled through his food:
“Thanks.”
“You can talk?” the servant looked up, surprised.
“Hell, I’m crazy, not mute,” the youth replied, slurping the thin porridge straight from the bowl. He ignored the chopsticks and scooped up the pickled purple cabbage with his hands. He ate with such haste, rice clinging to the tip of his nose like a starving mutt.
Intrigued, the servant sat down beside him. Sunlight streamed down like golden dust, falling across the youth’s face, making his features even more vivid and striking. The servant asked:
“What’s your name?”
“Chu Kuang.”
“Ah, no good,” the servant waved his hand quickly. “Too proud-sounding.1楚 (Chu) A surname, but also refers to the ancient state of Chu, known for its romantic, unrestrained, and heroic cultural image in Chinese literature. 狂 (Kuáng) Means wild, unrestrained, mad, or arrogant. The noble patrons who come here won’t like it. Didn’t the madam give you a new name? Something like Feng’er or Lian’er?”
Chu Kuang shot him a glance and finished his porridge. He stuck out his tongue like a cloth to lick the bowl clean, swirling it until it gleamed.
The servant grew bolder. “Where are you from?”
“Don’t remember.”
“The madam seems to value you, and you’ve got wounds. You must’ve been a runaway slave from some rich household, right?”
Chu Kuang turned his head, recalling that hellish past. He gave a terse reply: “You could say that.”
The servant nodded proudly, pleased with his guess. This must’ve been a beaten-down house servant, driven to desperation and finally sold into this trade. Coming from a wealthy household, he likely fetched a good price. And within the pleasure quarters, Zui Chun Garden was a top-tier place. Many other brothels were little more than hovels, where the fallen starved in the cold. To them, Zui Chun Garden was heaven itself.
“So… how old are you?” the servant asked curiously.
“Can’t recall. Probably past twenty.”
“Then you’re a bit old! Most courtesans here are around thirteen or fourteen. Once a boy’s grown, with whiskers coming in, the patrons lose interest.” The servant looked him up and down. “But your face still looks young, and our special guest prefers strong, sturdy types. You’ll keep your job just fine.”
Chu Kuang finished the last of the pickles, then tilted the bowl to drain every drop of sauce. His cheeks puffed out as he asked, “Special guest?”
“Oh yes, a truly important figure—ranked second even among the Xian Mountain Guards!” The servant beamed, cheeks reddening like he was ill. “Lord Yu Ji!”
The bowl dropped from Chu Kuang’s mouth and shattered on the floor like fireworks.
It was well known: there were ten Xian Mountain Guards, stationed to protect Penglai and the other five sacred mountains. The late Emperor Bai had been a tyrant—extorting, waging endless war. He once struck the war drum at Zhenhai Pass to march forth, but learned that storms and plague raged beyond Penglai. So he erected a string of celestial checkpoints beyond the pass, and upon returning, issued a ban—no one was to leave Penglai except the ten stationed Xian Mountain Guards.
These ten Xian Mountain Guards were once rewarded by the late emperor with ten national treasure jades. Each jade had a name: Tianfu, Yu Ji, Gu Bi, Bai Huan, Bi Bao, Ruyi, Mohe, Langgan, Yu Jue, and Yu Yin. Over time, these jade names also became the alternate titles of the ten guards. When the White Emperor proved unworthy and public fury surged like a tide, his brother assassinated him and seized the throne, yet preserved these titles, appointing only the brave and resolute to bear them. To this day, the Xian Mountain Guard remains a pinnacle that only the most valiant under heaven can reach.
Today, the Xian Mountain Guards remained the highest echelon, a summit reached by only the most formidable.
Among them, Yu Ji Guard stood at the peak. Once, he had a superior—the Tianfu Guard—who had marched with the old emperor, but that man had died in the Ming Sea. So Yu Ji had become de facto leader of the Guards, wielding power above all others.
The old man had iron hands, invulnerable to blade or flame, capable of snapping necks and breaking limbs with ease. Some said he could move mountains bare-handed, change the course of rivers. Others said his yang energy was so potent that he could sleep with dozens in a night, man or woman. Most courtesans who left his bed never recovered fully. Thus, he had a particular fondness for young, strong men—at least they could survive the night.
Chu Kuang had once served in his household like a mangy mutt and knew this monster’s nature all too well.
It was precisely because of that knowledge that he understood how terrifying the man truly was. Yu Ji Guard was a nightmare branded on his heart, a wound that would never heal.
“Take me to him!” Chu Kuang suddenly shed his earlier nonchalance. Baring silver teeth, his sharp eyes cut across the servant’s face like a blade.
He had awakened to find himself sold into a brothel. Worse still, those who sold him had seen the slave brand on the back of his neck—the mark of Yu Ji Guard—and now hoped to curry favor by sending him back to that fiend.
The servant was so startled by his fury that his knees trembled. “Lord Yu Ji hasn’t arrived yet!”
“Then I’ll go find him myself.” Chu Kuang shot to his feet, murderous intent flooding the room. He kicked the servant lightly with his toe. “Hey, where is he? Lead the way.”
But he hadn’t gone more than a few steps when he suddenly stumbled. Looking down, he discovered a chain bound around his ankle.
The servant got up, brushed the dust from his clothes, and said with a sly smile, “Young master, the madam paid a hefty price for you. She’s taken a liking to you and wants to gift you to Lord Yu Ji, who’s sure to fancy you. How could she possibly let you walk out of this cage so easily?”
Chu Kuang yanked hard on the chain for a while but found it impossible to break. He rolled his eyes and flopped down onto the bed. “Why me? Can’t you go find someone sane?”
“Because you’ve got a solid build—that’s exactly Lord Yu Ji’s type. Besides, whenever he visits the garden, we lose a good number of girls and boys. We’re really short on staff!” Though the servant faintly suspected Chu Kuang might be unhinged, he didn’t take it to heart and chuckled. “Anyway, it’s fine if you don’t know how things work here. The madam said, once you’ve served a few guests and learned a bit about the business, then she’ll send you to attend to Lord Yu Ji.”
Chu Kuang actually laughed—his expression dark and wolfish. “So, I’ll get to see him, yes?”
“Of course.”
“Then what are you waiting for? Since I’m to take customers, start sending them in.”
He threw himself back on the bed, crossed one leg over the other, and lazily waved his hand.
“I’m in a hurry to see that old bastard Yu Ji.”
———
Half a month later, in Lingsha Alley.
Though it was deep winter, the alley was bustling. Porters passed by, carrying jars of wine and baskets of food. But at one end, a group of people had clashed in a brawl, fists flying.
A pale, frail scholar took a brutal punch to the face and went tumbling like a wheel, rolling several times before stopping.
The one who hit him was a stout young master wearing richly embroidered robes. He had small eyes, a snub nose, and a face like a plowed field. He reached into the scholar’s robes and pulled out a small coin pouch, opened it, then spat.
“This is all? You son of a bitch, didn’t I tell you to bring enough money? How the hell am I supposed to bet on tea matches with this?”
The scholar scrambled to his feet. Though he wore a fine floral-patterned robe, the back was patched over and over. His name was Zheng Deli, the youngest of the Zheng family, which had served in Penglai’s Astronomy Bureau for generations. His father had once held a high post but was demoted after an error in calendar compilation, plunging the family into disgrace. Zheng Deli bore the weight of their fall and was often treated with contempt.
The brute in front of him was the young master of the Tao family—nobility for generations—who treated Zheng Deli like a dog to kick and scold.
“I… my family doesn’t have much left. Things are tight… there’s really no more money…” Zheng Deli stammered.
“No money? Then go earn some!” Tao sneered like a bristling porcupine. “Go behind a broken wall, strip naked, and let a beggar screw you! That’s seven coppers easy!”
Zheng Delu tried to rise again, but Tao kicked him in the knee, sending him crashing face-first into the dirt.
“Did I tell you to get up? Go beg with a damn bowl and earn enough for me to bet tea money, then maybe you can stand up. Coward. Loser.”
Tao’s cronies stepped forward and rained kicks down on him like a storm. Zheng Deli’s face turned blue and purple, bruises blooming like a grotesque palette.
When Tao finally left, Zheng Deli staggered to his feet and dragged himself home.
As he walked, he clenched his jaw to keep tears from falling. He was as soft-hearted as water, always avoiding conflict—and so he became an easy target for every street thug.
Just endure it. He told himself. That’s how I’ve always gotten through.
Back at the Zheng residence, he saw a figure slumped beside the gate’s flaking golden pillars, sobbing softly, trembling like a dead leaf in the wind.
He rushed over—it was their maid, Xiao Feng.
“Xiao Feng? What are you doing here?”
She looked up, her bright eyes clouded with tears, pale cheeks streaked with them. Zheng Deli then noticed her disheveled clothing.
“Young master!” she sobbed into her hands. “I went out to buy thread earlier today and ran into Young Master Tao. They dragged me into a sedan and took me to some remote place… and… they ruined me!”
It was as if lightning had struck Zheng Deli.
There weren’t many servants left in the household. Xiao Feng had grown up beside him, like an older sister. When he studied late into the night, dozing off, she would sit quietly by him, embroidering. Once, he broke his father’s favorite vase and she took the blame, receiving a hundred lashes and being scarred for life. They had laughed and cried together. Tao bullying him was one thing—but now he’d touched Xiao Feng.
Still crying, she rolled up her sleeve. Zheng Deli’s gaze fixed on the bruises and bloodied punctures left by embroidery needles she’d stabbed into herself.
Suddenly, Zheng Deli no longer felt his own pain. His chest became a furnace, blazing with rage.
Tao’s mocking voice echoed in his ears:
“Coward!”
He’d been beaten countless times, but never had he felt such fury. Even someone as gentle as he had been pushed too far.
Zheng Deli rushed into the courtyard and applied medicine to her wounds. He loved idle reading—especially medical texts—and had picked up a few basic skills. A laborer was carving joints into a bench in the back kitchen; Zheng Deli picked up the wood axe lying nearby and strode out with purpose.
“Young master, wh-where are you going?” Xiao Feng asked, terrified at the bloodshot look in his eyes.
Zheng Deli replied, “…To kill someone!”
The fire in his chest flared. He marched toward the street like a vengeful hero. But his courage, so quick to rise, faded just as fast. At the street corner, he hesitated. Once more, he was the coward.
The axe now felt like a scorching brand in his hand. Alone, could he really fight Tao and his thugs? Compared to them, he was just skin and bones. And if he actually committed murder—wouldn’t that bring ruin on his already struggling family?
Doubt wrapped around him like invisible vines, binding his feet. He remembered Tao was likely at Zui Chun Garden tonight for tea matches. But instead of going there, his legs carried him to Qingyuan Alley.
He stopped in front of a rundown courtyard—its wooden gates even more dilapidated than his own, barely able to support the dust atop them. The papered windows were torn and stuffed with straw. Zheng Deli knocked loudly.
“Fang Jingyu!”
There was no response. His heart sank. Fang was an old friend—stoic, cold-faced, but righteous—and now served as an officer of the Xian Mountain Guard. Zheng Deli had come here for strength, for someone to push him forward. But no one was home. His hope turned cold.
“Fang Jingyu! Are you there?”
Suddenly, the door creaked open. A girl in red stood in the frame, arms crossed, face proud and sharp.
“He’s not here! We’ve no money—get lost!”
Zheng Deli was stunned, then recognized her—it was Xiao Jiao, a girl temporarily staying with Fang. Her expression softened a bit, but she still looked at him from the corner of her eye.
“I thought you were a debt collector. Oh, it’s ‘no-balls Young Master Zheng.’ What do you want with that sour-faced gourd?”
“I… I wanted to speak with him…”
“Hmph. He’s out carousing with his master!” Xiao Jiao pouted. “Won’t be back soon. Come again later.”
With a bang, the door slammed shut in his face.
His last hope gone, Zheng Deli drooped his head and left the alley.
He wandered aimlessly, axe in hand, unsure where he was going. Xiao Feng’s teary face haunted him. He burned with rage—but was he really going to kill someone? Could he, all alone, beat Tao and his cronies? His thoughts were a storm of needles.
Before he knew it, he’d drifted into Wuju Alley, lined with grand buildings and brothels. Painted women leaned in doorways, calling flirtatiously. Zheng Deli panicked and tried to flee, only to crash into someone.
A colorfully dressed woman with a headscarf smiled at him. Clearly a courtesan.
“Young master, why wander alone? Come inside and rest a while!”
Zheng Deli shook his head frantically. “N-no…” But her fingers were already tracing his chest. She found the wrapped axe inside his robes, mistaking it for something else.
“Oho! So young master came prepared. Let’s have some fun with your little ‘tool.’” Laughing, she pulled him toward a courtyard.
Zheng Deli blushed furiously, trying to escape, but she gripped his wrist tightly. She led him through a series of moon gates, revealing a lavish inner garden of pavilions and painted eaves. This was clearly a secret entrance to Zui Chun Garden—used to bring in guests discreetly.
Lanterns lit up one by one like stars. Before Zheng Deli could react, he was shoved into a corridor.
He vaguely remembered—Tao said he’d be here tonight. Somehow, Zheng Deli had stumbled into the right place.
A group of performers passed like drifting clouds, laughter like silver bells. The courtesan waved them down.
“I brought a fresh customer. Any rooms free?”
One of them laughed and teased, “Lord Yu Ji’s on his way, and you’re still dragging in men? The madam said your singing’s top-notch—you’re needed on stage, not in bed!” She glanced at Zheng Deli.
Zheng Delivsighed in relief. He tried to leave, waving his hands. “If you’re busy, no need to entertain me.” Then, worried they’d force him, he added, “Besides, I… I prefer men. I’m not into women, so don’t trouble yourselves.”
The courtesan was surprised but chuckled anyway, still grabbing for him.
“Ah, so young master likes the back door. I see! Don’t worry—we’ve got plenty of pretty boys in the garden too!”
Zheng Deli realized too late—this was Penglai’s grandest pleasure house. He cursed his loose tongue for walking right into their trap.
The performers coaxed cheerfully:
“Yes, yes. We’ve got a new boy in the garden. The madam said to find him more guests to break him in. He’s got the looks—why not let him serve this young master tonight?”
The courtesan giggled.
“Great idea.”
Before Zheng Delu could react, he was pushed into a room. The door locked behind him with a click. From outside came laughter:
“Everything you need’s already inside, including the person. Take your time, young master.”
Then she drifted away.
What she didn’t know: the courtesan inside was vicious and brutal. In just half a month, he’d broken sixteen patrons’ bones. Most couldn’t get within five steps of him.
The room was unlit, pitch dark. Zheng Deli slumped against the door, exhausted. He’d only come to seek revenge on Tao. He’d made it into the Garden—but now what?
A breeze stirred the curtain. Fragrance drifted in, dizzying him. Something moved.
A shadow suddenly pounced on him.
Fast as lightning, the shadow pinned him down, limbs locked tight around him. Bones creaked, nerves burned.
He looked into the darkness, where moonlight glimmered faintly. A pair of beast-like eyes gleamed at him—predatory, vicious. The floral scent turned sharp, piercing.
Suddenly, the weight lifted. The shadow leaned down and used its teeth to loosen his collar, pulling from within his robes the wood axe he’d hidden. It clamped the handle between its teeth.
“Well, well, young master—here to play with me tonight?”
Chu Kuang took the axe from his mouth and grinned dangerously.
“Don’t worry. I’m good at this. I’ll make sure you scream all the way to heaven.”
Xian Moutain Guards
1 天符 (Tiānfú) – Heavenly Talisman
2 玉雞 (Yùjī) – Jade Rooster
3 谷璧 (Gǔbì) – Grain Jade Disc (or Valley Bi; bi is a type of jade disc)
4 白環 (Báihuán) – White Ring
5 碧寶 (Bìbǎo) – Emerald Treasure
6 如意 (Rúyì) – Wish-Fulfillment Scepter (symbol of good fortune)
7 靺鞨 (Mòhé) – Mohe (name of an ancient ethnic group; possibly referencing a jade named after them)
8 琅玕 (Lánggān) – Langgan (a lustrous, gem-like material, sometimes associated with bamboo or coral jade)
9 玉玦 (Yùjué) – Jade Ring with a Notch (an ancient jade ornament shaped like an incomplete circle)
10 玉印 (Yùyìn) – Jade Seal
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