In the courtyard, the majority had shifted their focus away from the games.

Yet a few, knowing they stood no chance with Qingya, let their eyes linger on the maids.

“Boss, should we pick a maid or call it a night?” Li Xi murmured, with the Hai hour approaching and curfew looming close.

The trio’s performance had been lackluster—Qingya barely spared them a glance—so Li Xi posed the question.

Xia Qian flushed behind them, fidgeting all night. His first time in such a place left him awkward and out of sorts.

“Let’s wait and see,” Xia Chen said calmly. Li Xi pondered, falling silent. By rights, his boss—new to these haunts—should be green, yet he oozed ease, like a seasoned hand. Cool as a cucumber, not a hint of a rookie.

Inside!

Behind the screen, steam rose, mist swirling.

A graceful figure slipped into a wooden tub, hot water clinging to smooth, alabaster skin. Flower petals floated atop, their scent wafting through.

Qingya’s jade-like shoulders and collarbone gleamed in the air, wet hair framing a stunning face tinged with melancholy—achingly tender now.

Gone was the radiant smile she’d worn outside.

Instead, she radiated sanctity, like a celestial maiden from the ninth heaven.

If Xia Chen saw her now, he’d marvel—a chameleon of charm, perfect for role-play!

Thrilling, no doubt.

A maid-clad girl added water, asking, “Miss, keeping anyone tonight?”

Qingya Xiaozhu offered overnight stays, but Qingya didn’t entertain every night—once or twice weekly at most.

The rarer, the more coveted. A tycoon once offered a thousand taels for a night, only to be turned down—skyrocketing her fame.

Qingya frowned, a spark flaring in her eyes.

“Bring in the distinguished fellow in the white mask—let him stay the night!”

The maid blinked, puzzled.

“He was unremarkable tonight—others outshone him. Keeping him might irk them, tarnishing our fair name…”

“He’s the one. Our recent troubles might hinge on him!”

Qingya’s lips curved into a breathtaking smile.

“Someone special?”

The maid, Xiao Lian, lit up. Lovely herself—outside, a top beauty—she dimmed beside Qingya.

“He’s Xia Chen, eldest son of the Marquis of Zhendong, betrothed to Dawu’s Second Princess. Now a guard commander—yesterday, he banished the Marquis of Jinwu’s son, likely cementing his foothold.”

Qingya smiled, a sweet shift in her kaleidoscope charm.

Xiao Lian gasped—her mistress’s rare double pupils pierced masks.

“Got it—I’ll fetch him!”

She retreated without delay.

Qingya sighed, rising from the tub. Her flawless form, an artwork, glistened with water beads sliding down silken skin, sparkling under the lamplight—pulse-quickening, unseen.

Outside!

“Sir!”

As the trio sipped wine and watched the dance, a white-masked youth approached.

“My father’s Li Gang, a Ministry of Revenue official. I spotted you over there—your air’s remarkable, but your stance suggests it’s your first time here!”

He grinned, adding, “I’m Li Kui, courtesy name Deshun.”

Dressed as a scholar, he bowed, fanning himself with a flourish.

Xia Chen’s lip twitched at “Li Kui”—behind that mask, was it a bearded brute ready to bellow “brother”?

“Got any brothers?”

He couldn’t resist.

“What’s that, sir? I’m an only son!”

Li Kui fanned on, as if it showcased his flair.

“Oh, just curious. I’m Yang Xi—no courtesy name, call me that.”

Xia Chen tossed a jest, but seeing it flop, straightened up.

A fake name, naturally—out for fun, who’d use their real one?

“Yang Xi, eh?”

Li Kui bowed again, mind racing through capital Yangs he hadn’t crossed.

No hits. Xia Chen offered no clan hints, and pressing felt rude.

“Could it be Elder Yang’s kin?”

Li Kui thought of Cabinet Elder Yang Yanhe, heart skipping—unlikely, though. Yang’s strict house never touched such places.

Xia Chen cared little for Li Kui’s guesses—nor would he if he knew.

A fifth-rank Ministry official? Small fry in the capital—not his concern.

Li Kui, sensing Xia Chen’s lukewarm vibe, couldn’t peg him but bet his roots ran deep—poise didn’t lie.

He tried again.

“Brother Yang, snagging Qingya tonight’s a long shot. How about Suyu Street? Livelier—I know a brothel with gorgeous girls. We’ll drink, crash there—I’ll treat!”

Li Kui thumped his chest, exuding bold charm.

Men’s four iron bonds, they say: studying together, battling shoulder to shoulder, dividing spoils, and whoring as comrades.

Li Kui prided his eye—rarely off. Maybe Yang Xi hailed from a top clan—several Yangs ranked high. A jackpot if he nailed it.

Li Xi behind Xia Chen bristled at Li Kui. What—this guy’s licking his boss too?

He’d brought the boss here tonight, and now this punk wanted to poach him for another brothel? Was he saying this spot fell short, leaving the boss unsatisfied?

Li Xi’s glare sharpened.