Chapter 47: Dong Rushi, the Renowned Courtesan of Qinhuai

Early the next morning, a guard delivered an invitation. Upon reading it, Cheng Pengju immediately bid farewell to everyone and headed to Yangzhou. Word had it that the Prefect of Yangzhou had been implicated on account of 叶天祥 (Ye Tianxiang). Since this official was a protégé promoted personally by the Duke of Wey, the Duke sent Cheng Pengju there directly to assess the situation.

Meanwhile, Ye Xiu, Qi Santai, and Zhao Yide made their way to the restaurant. The establishment had been meticulously cleaned until it was spotless. A stage had been built in the spacious ground-floor hall, and several courtesans ascended it one after another. Because no backing musicians had been hired, they were forced to accompany themselves on the pipa or zheng.

The courtesans cast curious glances around the lavishly decorated restaurant. To their astonishment, the proprietor turned out to be a boy of only fifteen or sixteen. Immediately, some of them began to walk out, feeling this was nothing more than a ridiculous farce. Unless one was starving along the Qinhai River, who would stoop to singing for their supper in a mere restaurant?

While their expressions were dark, Ye Xiu’s expression was even gloomier. For no other reason than that these women were utterly mediocre—hideously, persistently, and absurdly plain. They weren't even as pleasing to the eye as the maidservants from his own former household.

Sensing that Ye Xiu was dissatisfied with them, Qi Santai leaned in and lowered his voice. "Any courtesan with actual looks has already boarded the painted pleasure boats. Naturally, there can be no pleasant surprises left among the rest. As long as their singing is passable, we can just hang a curtain across the stage so the diners don't have to look at their faces."

"Very well then," Ye Xiu agreed with a helpless nod.

The first courtesan tuned her pipa and sang *Immortal at the River*. The lyrics were among the finest and most popular compositions of the Qinhai River district, but her vocal performance was simply unlistenable. Leaving aside her drifting off-key, she had clearly played the wrong notes on the scale entirely. Even Qi Santai, who in his affluent days had frequently visited pleasure houses, listened with a deep frown. Without waiting for Ye Xiu to speak, he waved his hand dismissively. "That will do. Next."

The subsequent performers only proved to be worse than the last. They somehow managed to butcher *Longing*—a piece meant to evoke longing in its upper strains and poignant farewells at dusk—until it sounded like *Ambush from Ten Sides*.

"Let's forget it," Ye Xiu said with a wry smile, instructing Zhao Yide to hand them a tip and send them on their way.

"My dear nephew, were none of the six courtesans even marginally acceptable?" Qi Santai asked.

"What do you think, Uncle Qi?" Ye Xiu countered.

"Those six singing girls were indeed all rather poor," Qi Santai mused softly. "However, the woman who played the xiao flute had a decent command of her instrument. Even if she didn't sing the lyrics, she could barely manage to offset her looks."

"The one with the flute?" Ye Xiu shot Qi Santai a sidelong glance. "I suppose you're the one who wants to do some blowing?"

"This..." Qi Santai rubbed his hands awkwardly. "To tell you the truth, my nephew, I've always had a fondness for exquisitely skilled songstresses."

"We want our grand opening to be a sensational success; we cannot settle for second best," Ye Xiu said, too weary to bicker with Qi Santai. "We are aiming to build the premier restaurant in Jinling, which means we must have top-tier songstresses."

"In that case, I suppose we'll have to seek out the professional actresses who haven't boarded the painted boats," Qi Santai said with a bitter smile. "Only, those actresses are not only aloof, but their fees are also absurdly high. You need an intermediary to bridge the gaps, and you have to provide a carriage for their transport. They demand ten taels of silver just to sing three songs a day."

"Are they trimmed in gold?" Ye Xiu widened his eyes. "Ten taels of silver? Why don't they just go rob someone?"

"There's nothing to be done; they've been spoiled rotten by the wealthy. The ones with even a sliver of charm have either been kept as mistresses or are waiting in line to board the painted boats. Who on earth would come to a restaurant to sing for a living?"

Ten taels of silver was far too expensive, and Ye Xiu had no desire to be played for a fool. Lost in thought, he slapped his thigh hard. "I've got a way."

"What way?" Qi Santai asked, his eyes filled with eager anticipation.

"Open as scheduled," Ye Xiu declared with absolute confidence. "I guarantee a sensational debut on opening day."

"Very well, since you say so, I can rest easy," Qi Santai said, cupping his fists. "Everything rests on my nephew's shoulders."

Upon returning home, Ye Xiu penned a letter and sent Zhao Yide to Linggu Temple to seek out the revered Monk Yanguanggong.

Jinling after the Grain Rain solar term was intensely humid. Ye Xiu, who was never fond of physical exertion, retreated into the shade of the trees and lay back in a rocking chair. Zhao Youyou placed a pot of herbal tea beside him.

"Brother You'an, are we definitely hanging the plaque tomorrow and opening the day after?" Zhao Youyou asked while trimming the courtyard plants. Through prolonged contact, the young girl had lost her initial reserve and shyness, and they got along much more harmoniously now.

"My teacher had someone divine the date; it's a propitious day," Ye Xiu took a sip of the tea. It was immensely refreshing, and the sense of well-being he had once known at the Junior Vice-Minister’s estate gradually began to return.

As evening approached, Ye Xiren returned from his confinement. Though he had been restored to his original official post, he had not forgotten his duty to supervise Ye Wuji. At least until the end of the month, Ye Wuji would continue his rigorous morning and evening studies.

Once dinner was prepared, Zhao Yide also returned.

"This damned weather is scorching," he muttered, gulping down half a pot of herbal tea and exhaling deeply before finally feeling somewhat comfortable.

"Young master, the task is done. Not only did I go to Linggu Temple, but I also boarded a painted pleasure boat in the company of the eminent monk." Zhao Yide looked at Ye Xiu with undisguised amazement. "By all rights, people of our station could never afford to invite someone like Dong Rusheng—one of the top ten courtesans of the Qinhai River—without lavish gifts and an eight-bearer sedan chair. Yet, I don't know what the master said to her, but Dong Rusheng readily agreed."

Ye Xiu never imagined that Monk Yanguanggong would wield such influence. Someone of Dong Rusheng's caliber was far beyond ordinary courtesans or actresses; more accurately, she was a reigning queen among them. Comparing the grand stage of the pleasure quarters to the imperial court, she was the equivalent of an Imperial Academician of the Hanlin Academy. Because of her standing, she would never lower her status with undignified behavior, let alone go to a restaurant to perform and ruin her prospects.

"What else did the master say?" Ye Xiu asked.

"The master said he would also invite the most renowned diners inside and outside Jinling City to show their support for Feiyinfang," Zhao Yide added. "I also informed him of our opening schedule."

"We hang the plaque tomorrow!" Ye Xiu laughed aloud. "Light the stoves and test the dishes! Let the neighbors and townspeople eat their fill."

"Understood, I'll go inform everyone as soon as I finish eating."

"Sir," Ye Xiu said, turning to Ye Xiren and pouring him a cup of wine. "The private dining room on the third floor is reserved for you. The rest of the private rooms will not be open to the general public, guaranteeing peace and quiet."

"Very well," Ye Xiren nodded. "With just the five of us, it's a family gathering; there's no need to make it overly extravagant."

"Sir, our 'Ten Bowls' specialty won't be like anything currently on the market," Ye Xiu said with a mysterious air. "For the opening, we must completely stun Xu Yougong. Only then will the other officials, gentry, wealthy merchants, and diners flock to us. Besides, since you are the host, sir, it must be done with grand style."

"Wuji," Ye Xiren nodded, turning to Ye Wuji. "You will accompany me."

"Me?" Ye Wuji scratched his head in bewilderment. "Sir, I'm currently nothing more than a fallen scholar, and my father is still locked away in the Censorate. This... it might affect your standing."

"An old friend of mine will also be coming to the restaurant," Ye Xiren said, taking a sip of wine with a mysterious glint in his eye. "It will do you good to familiarize yourself with his temperament and character, and humbly seek his guidance on what books he reads and what works he has authored."

Ye Wuji froze. After pondering for a long moment, his eyes suddenly lit up: Could the person the teacher spoke of be... Kong Chongyuan, the thirty-second generation direct descendant of Confucius?