HCAW 6

Chapter 6: A Dangerous Encounter

“King Yama” Chu Kuang had been recovering in Zui Chun Garden for the past half-month, living as if above all laws.

A brothel was the perfect place to lie low—separate from the mundane world, and even officials from Xian Mountain rarely came prying in force. Zui Chun Garden, after all, was the most prestigious of pleasure houses, operating under the protection of Yu Ji. Few dared cause trouble here, and Chu Kuang lived in perfect ease.

While tending to his injuries, he quietly gathered information. The guests at the Garden came from every corner of the world, and the gossip was lively and abundant. Chu Kuang’s life now revolved around two things: seeking vengeance on Yu Ji, and fulfilling his master’s last wish. When he heard news that Yu Ji would soon be arriving, he knew that if he could recover in time, he would take the risk and fulfill his life’s desire.

A few days after Chu Kuang woke, the madam of the brothel came to visit. She wore a jacket embroidered with wild geese clutching reeds, a rich purple silk skirt, her face powdered and painted—every wrinkle filled smooth with lead paste. Smiling like a blooming flower, she asked:

“Young master, I bought you from your captors. From now on, you’re a person of Zui Chun Garden. Have you ever served someone before?”

Chu Kuang lay sprawled on the bed, lazily forming the character for ‘big’ (大) with his limbs. “Served? Sure I have. But it depends on the kind of serving. You mean the ordinary kind, or the kind that involves sharing a bed?”

The madam covered her mouth and laughed. “In Zui Chun Garden, ‘serving’ means raising your rear and waiting to be pounded, to please the clients.”

“I don’t mind,” Chu Kuang replied. “But I’m afraid the guests might get scared. I’m fine in every way—except for one thing. Since childhood, I’ve had this madness where I can’t stand the sight of another man’s cock. If I see one… I just can’t help myself. I have to cut it off.”

The madam’s face turned white. She hadn’t expected this runaway slave she bought to be so willful. What would she do if she sent him to serve Yu Ji and he provoked the man’s wrath?

Still, she had trained many stubborn virgins in her time and knew how to handle troublemakers. She immediately raised her eyebrows and clapped her hands, summoning two or three brothel guards with sticks.

She sneered. “I paid silver to buy you here, not to worship you like some golden Buddha.” Then, to the guards: “Beat this hard-headed brat until he understands the rules!”

The guards charged at Chu Kuang with sticks like hungry tigers pouncing on a sheep.

Chu Kuang bared his teeth in a grin. “You think I came here to be some ox or horse? What do you mean by rules? I am the rules!”

As the words left his mouth, he suddenly kicked out with both feet, striking the guards on their wrists. In a flash, the sticks turned mid-air and smacked two of the guards square in the face. The third one rushed forward, but Chu Kuang had already hurled an object from his hand. Though he had no bow or arrows, his strength and aim were exceptional. The guard was knocked unconscious and collapsed, foaming at the mouth. The madam looked down in shock and saw a water-filled pig intestine—used as a homemade club—lying on the floor.

All of this happened in an instant. The three guards hadn’t even gotten close before being knocked out cold.

Chu Kuang flopped back onto the bed, one leg crossed arrogantly over the other, and laughed wildly. “Come on, weren’t you going to beat me into submission? Where are your men now?”

The madam’s face went pale as snow. She couldn’t believe the man who’d been so gravely injured could fight like this. She shrieked, “Y-you… damn you! Just wait! Before Lord Yu Ji arrives, I’ll have someone break your backside in! Then you’ll learn what it means to obey!”

Chu Kuang said nothing, just gave her a cold, mocking laugh.

From that day on, the madam kept her word. She found some burly, muscular men to subdue him, but every single one ended up beaten unconscious. She even drugged his food, but Chu Kuang ate it all without hesitation. He looked dead asleep, but if anyone entered his room to lay a hand on him, he’d lash out with a rabbit-kick, leaving them paralyzed.

In a fury, the madam tried starving him, but he gnawed at his straw mat, shaping the grass roots into tiny blow-darts, rolled window paper into a tube, and launched them around the room. Anyone who passed by his door ended up shot. The terrified servants, trembling, had no choice but to bring him food.

The madam was at her wit’s end. But she also knew that killing him would be a loss of her investment. It would be better to wait for Yu Ji to arrive and let him deal with the boy. No matter how skilled Chu Kuang was, could he really escape Yu Ji’s grasp? So, she had no choice but to pamper him with good food and drink.

Some of the courtesans in the brothel, unaware of the situation, still led clients into Chu Kuang’s room. Every one of those guests left badly beaten, crawling away.

Zheng Deli was one of them.

That night, he was lured into Zui Chun Garden by a courtesan and dragged into Chu Kuang’s room. As soon as he stepped inside, Chu Kuang pounced on him, bound his hands and feet, and snatched the carpenter’s axe he had hidden on him. Then, he rewarded him with a punch to the face.

Zheng Deli was knocked flat on his back, stars spinning in his eyes. In the dim haze, he saw a shadow standing above him, smiling coldly.

Chu Kuang examined the axe and said with mock amazement, “You brought this thing to a brothel? So you’re not here to screw, you’re here to kill!”

Strangely, the words hit Zheng Deli right where it hurt. Terrified, he stammered, “H-how did you know…”

“Oh? So you are here to kill someone?” Chu Kuang narrowed his eyes. “Who’s your target?”

Realizing he’d slipped, Zheng Deli quickly shut his mouth.

“No worries,” Chu Kuang said. “I’m not with the madam. In fact, I should be thanking you for bringing this thing.” He waved the axe, then with a burst of strength, his arm bulging with veins, he struck at the chain on his ankle. With several sharp clangs, the iron chain broke into pieces.

Zheng Deli stared, stunned. A small axe wielded with such force—it was like a divine weapon in this man’s hands.

Fear crept in. But then he thought of Xiao Feng’s sorrowful face, and grief surged again. He whispered, “I came here… to kill the son of the Tao family.”

“Why?”

Zheng Deli flinched like he’d been stung by a scorpion and looked up at Chu Kuang. Chu Kuang shrugged. “If you’re going to kill someone, there’s always a reason. Go on, I’m listening.”

So Zheng Deli took a few deep breaths, finally unable to hold back the resentment in his heart, and opened up. He poured out everything to Chu Kuang in one go—how he had once been humiliated by Young Master Tao, how Xiao Feng had been defiled by him—all of it spilled out in a rush.

Chu Kuang listened without much expression, arms folded. “So,” he said, “you snuck into Zui Chun Garden tonight just to find that damn donkey-dick Young Master Tao?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good. I’ll get revenge for you later, consider it repayment for bringing me the axe. But in return, I need you to do something for me.”

“What is it?”

Chu Kuang’s expression grew more serious. “Give me your clothes. I want to go out and find where Yu Ji is. I’m going to kill him.”

Zheng Deli nearly wet his trousers. “Yu… Yu Ji?”

“Yes.”

“What are you thinking? That’s the famous Xian Mountain Guard!” Zheng Deli finally cried out. “You must be insane if you’re even thinking of—”

He trailed off. Through the tangle of Chu Kuang’s messy hair, he suddenly caught a glimpse of the scar on his forehead—an old arrow wound. Beneath the hair, the faint blood-red glint of twin pupils flickered, savage and fierce.

Chu Kuang gave a low chuckle. “You’re right. I am insane. Yu Ji is an old enemy of mine. In short, don’t ask questions. Just strip and hand over your clothes. If I go out wearing a singing boy’s attire, they’ll never let me in the door. It’ll only cause trouble. I need a different look.”

With that, he shoved Zheng Deli over and climbed on top of him, yanking at his clothes. Zheng Deli panicked. “Wait!”

“Wait for what?” Chu Kuang squinted at him.

“Stripping someone in broad daylight is… a disgrace to civility…”

“You’re such a stiff-headed fool. What are you pretending to be, some chaste maiden?” Chu Kuang tugged harder. “Hurry up and take them off!”

But Zheng Deli’s shouting had been loud enough to attract a few courtesans. They came tiptoeing down the corridor and knocked on the door. “Young master, what’s going on in there?”

Zheng Deli fell silent, face burning as he saw them reaching for the door latch. Chu Kuang glanced at the broken chain beside him. If they barged in now, his plan to assassinate Yu Ji would be ruined. He acted immediately—grabbing a fire-striker from the cabinet, he lit the tung oil lamp.

The flickering flame cast their shadows on the paper window screen: two figures pressed close together in an indecently intimate pose. Inside the room, Zheng Deli was stunned. Outside, the courtesans froze as Chu Kuang opened his mouth and, with a blank expression, let out a string of breathy moans that sounded exactly like two people in the throes of passion.

The women outside saw the shadow moving rhythmically behind the paper and heard the suggestive groans. They giggled. “Ah, they’re in the middle of something! That little young master was so shy earlier, but now he’s all fired up!”

Another chimed in, “Wonder who the fierce customer is today—able to tame that unruly troublemaker who gave the madam such a headache?”

One of them spat, “Who cares who it is? Let’s not waste time. Lord Yu Ji will arrive soon, and we haven’t even set out the melon seeds. Let’s go!”

Their footsteps faded away. Zheng Deli let out a breath of relief, though his face was beet red. Chu Kuang stopped his fake moaning and gave a savage grin. “No one’s going to interrupt us now, huh?”

Zheng Deli panicked. “W-what are you trying to do?”

Chu Kuang didn’t answer. Quick and efficient, he stripped Zheng Deli down to his underclothes. He then took the white robe of a singing boy from Zui Chun Garden and swapped into Zheng Deli’s patched-up clothes. Standing with hands on hips, he laughed, “Fits just right, even if it’s a bit patchy. Stay put. I’ll be back soon.”

He went to the dressing table, opened a makeup box, powdered his face with lead paste¹ It was cosmetic commonly used in ancient China and elsewhere, especially to whiten the face. It was actually made of white lead, which is toxic., then smeared on rouge to draw a gaudy, exaggerated face. Only then did he swagger out the door. Zheng Deli, now half-naked, could only watch him leave, shouting:

“Hey! Don’t go! Where are you going?”

“To kill for you,” Chu Kuang called back, kicking the door and breaking the latch. “And to kill for myself.”

____

Upstairs, candles flickered, and women in colorful robes drifted to and fro, dancing and singing.

The long banquet table was piled with rare delicacies—crispy clay-roasted meats, glazed pastries, milk-steamed lamb—each dish fragrant and fresh.

Chu Kuang climbed onto the roof, lifted a tile, and peeked down into the room. At the banquet sat an elderly woman in black. Though her hair was snow-white, she sat upright, her expression cold, exuding a chilling aura.

Even Yu Yin is here? Chu Kuang was startled. Yu Yin was also one of the Xian Mountain Guard—though ranked tenth and last, her blade techniques had reached perfection. She was a grandmaster in her own right.

But her presence wasn’t surprising. Penglai Pass was her jurisdiction. Most of the other Xian Mountain Guards stayed outside the pass and rarely visited. Only Yu Ji returned often, obsessed as he was with the beautiful boys of Zui Chun Garden.

Chu Kuang’s gaze shifted to the end of the table, where an old man with a flowing white beard sat, chest exposed beneath embroidered robes, eyes fierce like a tiger, his presence as imposing as a mountain.

That was Yu Ji—his one true enemy in this life, the thorn in his eye, the knife in his flesh.

Behind Yu Ji sat a bone bow, resting on a display stand. Its grain was smooth and fine, like creamy white jade. Chu Kuang recognized it at once—it was Fan Ruo, the treasured bow Yu Ji had taken from him a year ago in the Jimei Desert. It had been his favorite weapon.

Clearly, Yu Ji also cherished the bow, keeping it with him as a spoil of war.

Chu Kuang gently replaced the tile and leapt down silently. He made his way through the crowded halls to a quiet spot. Moonlight spread over the ground like silver water. As he walked beneath it, his mind raced—how could he infiltrate the banquet, reclaim Fan Ruo, and take Yu Ji’s life?

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by laughter rising from below. Chu Kuang’s ears twitched; he picked up a soft voice saying, “Young Master Tao sure can drink!”

He leapt to the railing, hooked his legs around a beam, and hung upside down, peering into the room below. A breeze lifted the curtains just in time. He saw a brightly lacquered table surrounded by garishly dressed courtesans, all clustered around one man. The man had squinty eyes, a bulbous nose, a face flushed red with wine, and wore embroidered robes stitched in gold—just as Zheng Deli had described.

This was Zheng Deli’s sworn enemy.

Chu Kuang untied the leather band from his hair, wound it around his fingers, and pulled out a mud pellet from his pocket. He pressed it to the band, aimed it at Young Master Tao.

He was confident—this one shot would either kill or cripple the bastard, fulfilling Zheng Deli’s vengeance.

Just as the pellet was ready to fire, Chu Kuang felt a sudden lightness at his ankle—someone had grabbed him by the leg and was pulling him up.

Interrupted, he exploded in anger and shouted, “The hell’s wrong with you! Are your eyes stuffed with donkey shit? Why the hell are you pulling me up?!”

With a twist, he flipped and landed nimbly. The person let go and said coldly:

“Looks like the donkey shit went in your mouth first—how else could you spit out such filth?”

The man continued, “I saw two legs dangling in the dark, thought someone was trying to hang themselves. So I yanked you up. Didn’t expect such foul gratitude.”

Chu Kuang gritted his teeth, ready to curse again—then stopped. As he looked up, recognition struck him. He had seen this man at Baicao Pass, in a haze of injury and near-unconsciousness, and had heard him announce his name. The face was familiar—it belonged to a young man in black robes, armed with sword and saber, with a clear and noble bearing, cold as snow and ice.

It was Fang Jingyu.

The very officier who had wounded him not long ago, forcing him to flee with his tail between his legs.

____

AN: This story is a niche genre, so it was never meant to be popular—just something I wrote for fun. If you’re able to enjoy it too, that’s enough for me! And if you could spare me a bookmark, a comment, or a little star, I won’t feel so lonely while writing—sob sob (shamelessly begging! (//Д//)

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  It was cosmetic commonly used in ancient China and elsewhere, especially to whiten the face. It was actually made of white lead, which is toxic.