AEOGA CH22
Hua Yan froze.
It was not that he had never thought about making money with his talent for blending incense.
In the past, back in the brothel, the male prostitutes always had to wear scented oils on their bodies to entice customers, and the rooms were constantly prepared with aphrodisiac scents to heighten the mood. Every lesson they were taught was designed to please men, and blending incense was a mandatory course.
Hua Yan had been the absolute best student in that class. He possessed an exceptional natural talent for making incense, to the point that even the master who taught them praised him for surpassing his teacher.
Fragrance could allure a person, but it could also kill.
In Changli, a man was considered an adult and eligible for marriage only at the age of sixteen. Even within the brothels, there were rules stating that virgin prostitutes under sixteen were strictly forbidden from receiving clients. Although their foster father made a living off the flesh trade, he treated these orphans exceedingly well. But without running that business, how could he possibly feed all the many mouths depending on the Huamanlou?
Thus, when his foster father arranged for Hua Yan to hang up his plaque and receive clients at the age of sixteen, Hua Yan felt no resentment. He was no innocent, pure little flower who would throw a hysterical tantrum of tears and threats of suicide.
…He had even killed someone.
Growing up in the brothel since childhood, Hua Yan had a close friend who was a year younger than him named Hua Yu, who was only thirteen at the time.
Hua Yu was the silliest and clumsiest of all the underage prostitutes in the brothel. Despite studying the methods of pleasing people every day, he could never master any of them, possessing an incredibly naive and simple nature. Hua Yan, who had the most calculating mind, ironically grew fond of this friend who lacked any guile whatsoever.
Customers came in all shapes and sizes, and there were always those with highly peculiar and depraved fetches. Among them was an official surnamed Zhou. Despite being advanced in years and visibly decrepit, he harbored a twisted preference for playing with tender, undeveloped flower buds, possessing absolutely no interest in mature flowers.
When that man surnamed Zhou entered the brothel seeking pleasure, he didn’t spare a single glance at the beautiful male prostitutes serving him. Instead, his eyes fell squarely upon Hua Yan and Hua Yu, who had come in to pour tea and water, fixing his gaze particularly on Hua Yu with a lewd, obscene stare.
By the time Hua Yan was fourteen, his features were already gorgeously striking, carrying a hint of adult allure. Hua Yu, however, was still green, tender, and utterly oblivious—the very picture of a child.
The man surnamed Zhou demanded on the spot that Hua Yu serve him—the kind of service that involved deflowering this young bud.
Terrified, Hua Yu spilled the tea, crying out, “This servant is not yet sixteen. According to the brothel’s rules, I cannot receive clients.”
The man surnamed Zhou smiled obscenely. “Do you know that this official is a Bureau Director of the Ministry of Justice, in charge of the realm’s laws? Is the brothel’s rule greater, or is my rule greater?”
Hua Yu was too timid to speak, but Hua Yan could not bear to watch any longer. Shielding Hua Yu behind him, his words cut like a razor: “Even according to the national law, anyone under sixteen is a child. The imperial law dictates that defiling a child is strictly forbidden, and violators shall be executed immediately.”
The social customs of Changli were remarkably open. The entire nation consisted of men, so there were not too many taboos regarding status.
In Changli, the one occupying the dominant position in bed was referred to as “seeking pleasure,” while the one in the receptive position was called “receiving pleasure.” Of course, there was also a vast number of those who could switch between either position, who were simply called “indulging in pleasure.”
While there were differences in positions, their social status remained entirely equal. Ordinary commoners or families of matching social standing did not emphasize the distinction of marrying off or marrying in. Couples only distinguished themselves verbally, without either party being the appendage of the other; who married whom depended entirely on the agreement between the two families. A pleasure-seeker could marry many pleasure-receivers, and a pleasure-receiver could likewise marry many pleasure-seekers. A husband wasn’t necessarily the dominant one, and a wife wasn’t necessarily the receptive one; it was perfectly normal for them to switch roles behind closed doors. A husband could take concubines, and if a wife took a fancy to another man, he could also bring him into the household as a concubine, with each doting on their own, and neither party allowed to raise objections.
The sole distinction arose if the marrying party was the pleasure-seeker: the betrothal gifts provided must vastly exceed the dowry given by the marrying-in party. Otherwise, on what grounds should a person endure the agonizing ten months of pregnancy and the life-threatening ordeal of childbirth just to have the child take your surname? Passing down a surname was never taken for granted; it was an immense concession, a dowry of monumental value.
If the marrying party happened to be the one giving birth, then it didn’t matter, and the betrothal gifts could be given freely at will.
Changli was incredibly protective of the men who had to bear the suffering of childbirth. As fellow men, those who consumed the child-bearing medicine endured far greater hardships than ordinary men just so Changli could propagate and thrive. The Supreme Ancestor had established these laws precisely because his original Empress had died during a difficult labor, granting immense favoritism to the men who chose to give birth.
Only when there was a massive disparity in status between two families would the couple be treated differently. For instance, the imperial family would never permit the harem to openly keep male concubines, as it would tarnish the imperial dignity. Throughout history, there had also been emperors who were pleasure-receivers; they gave birth to their own children and strictly forbade their consorts from having children with anyone else. The imperial consorts belonged to the royal household, and the imperial bloodline could tolerate no contamination. If a pleasure-receiver from a noble family fell in love with a pleasure-seeker of lower birth, they would always marry the pleasure-seeker into their own home, forbidding the partner from taking concubines while they themselves could take multiple side-consorts. If they chose to marry out, it was termed “marrying down,” and even after marrying over, they would still hold absolute authority over their partner.
The neighboring nation of Leyang, a land of daughters, shared this exact system. Between these two nations, there was no inequality based on gender or position; there was only the distinction of status based on social class.
It was precisely because Changli was so progressive that husbands and wives could openly maintain their own concubines, which was why the Prime Minister’s wife’s demand for “one lifetime, one pair of people” had been so shockingly revolutionary back then. Had he hailed from a prominent noble clan, it might have been accepted, but the Prime Minister’s wife, though born of a reputable family, was not particularly illustrious in the capital where nobles gathered like clouds. Being courted by the eldest legitimate son of the Lu family—the foremost noble clan—and even gaining a promise for a monogamous lifetime had truly stirred up a tempestuous wave.
Yet, even in a Changli as progressive as this, there existed an ironclad rule—one must never marry a male under the age of sixteen, let alone engage in physical intimacy.
Adults could indulge themselves however they pleased, but anyone who touched a child was an absolute beast, and once discovered, it carried the death penalty.
But even with explicit prohibitions, there were always those who dared to defy death.
Yuqing lay right at the foot of the Emperor, so no one dared to commit crimes flagrantly. However, there were those with unspeakable preferences who secretly kept catamites, which had given rise to a dark criminal syndicate of child trafficking to supply children for depraved amusement. When Yun Luo was sold as a catamite, he happened to be discovered by the young Xie Chongjin, who was traveling incognito outside the palace. The Crown Prince flew into a towering rage, immediately raiding the household that kept catamites and ordering a thorough investigation that dismantled the entire syndicate, executing numerous individuals and even rescuing Yun Luo’s younger brother, which made Yun Luo absolutely devoted to his savior.
After the Crown Prince thoroughly investigated the case, no one dared to engage in such wicked trades for a time. Those individuals with pedophilic desires, unable to secure their “supply,” naturally felt an intense, unbearable craving.
Bureau Director Zhou was precisely one of them. In the past, he would never have dared to display his twisted preference—anyone who did had their head taken by the Crown Prince. He truly hadn’t understood why a Crown Prince, who meddled in everything under the sun, would even bother with their insignificant preferences, forcing them to hide in the shadows.
But now that the Crown Prince had ascended the throne to become the Emperor, he had grown increasingly incompetent and negligent, causing Bureau Director Zhou’s desires to become restless once more.
Hearing Hua Yan utter “defiling a child results in immediate execution,” Bureau Director Zhou shuddered, the image of blood flowing like rivers during the Crown Prince’s past investigations uncontrollably resurfacing as a psychological shadow. Upon regaining his composure, he turned his embarrassment into rage, immediately delivering a sharp slap to Hua Yan’s gorgeous face.
“A virgin prostitute, a low-life piece of filth, dares to talk to this official about the imperial law?” Bureau Director Zhou spoke with forced bravado. “I am the law! As long as I frame you with a crime and throw you into prison tomorrow, the one whose head will roll will be you!”
This commotion finally drew the attention of the brothel owner. The man, who was in his thirties but still retained his lingering charm, walked over and offered a flattering smile. “My lord, what did these two children do to provoke your anger? This servant offers apologies on their behalf. The children are young; please, in your great magnanimity, do not lower yourself to their level.”
At the same time, he darted a glance at the two children, signaling them to leave quickly.
Bureau Director Zhou said arrogantly, “Halt! You still dare to leave? Owner Hua, I merely called for him to serve me, yet this brat dared to invoke the imperial law to pressure me. It would be unacceptable not to teach him a lesson, wouldn’t it? Of course, I am a magnanimous man; as long as he serves me for a night—” His suggestive gaze lingered over Hua Yu, before he cast a cold, mocking sneer at Hua Yan, “—I won’t send this brat to prison.”
Hua Yan, acting out of loyalty, stood up for his friend. “You are knowingly breaking the law and abusing public authority; you are the one who belongs in prison!”
“Shut up! How dare you speak like that?” The brothel owner immediately slapped him across the face—it sounded loud, but the actual force was light.
“My lord, this brat is talking nonsense. I apologize to you,” the owner said with difficulty. “It’s just that… Hua Yu has not reached the age. If you wish for someone to serve you, and if there is no one in this brothel who catches your eye, this servant can serve you instead…”
Hua Yu covered his mouth and wept. His foster father had retired from the trade many years ago, yet now, for his sake, he was going to let himself be humiliated by this man.
“You?” Bureau Director Zhou sneered. “If you were twenty years younger, perhaps I might take a look. With a face that old, you dare to ask me to swallow it? Are you trying to insult me? If you don’t send him to my room tonight, tomorrow your Huamanlou won’t need to open its doors anymore.”
His words were a blatant threat: “Sending everyone in your brothel to prison is merely a matter of a single word from me.”
The owner’s face turned grim, and he could no longer maintain his smile. Commoners did not fight officials; the Huamanlou was merely an ordinary brothel without any powerful backing. Currently, the monarch was incompetent, rites and music had collapsed, and corrupt officials ran rampant; even a fifth-rank Bureau Director dared to flaunt his authority, and they couldn’t afford to offend him.
The brothel was filled with poor, helpless souls who had gathered together just to find a place of shelter. He wanted to protect everyone in the building, yet now he couldn’t even protect a single child.
“Father,” Hua Yu spoke up timidly, his tone still naive, his expression fearful yet resolute. “Let me go serve him.”
“I don’t want you or the older brothers in the building to go to prison…”
The owner closed his eyes.
…
After that, Bureau Director Zhou frequently came to find Hua Yu for “service.” Every single time after the service was over, Hua Yu’s body would be covered in a fresh set of horrifying wounds.
Hua Yu grew increasingly silent, and the pure, oblivious light in his eyes vanished day by day.
As Hua Yan applied medicine for him, seeing those shocking wounds upon Hua Yu’s body, his lowered gaze concealed a coldness as lethal as a venomous serpent.
He wanted to avenge Hua Yu, to ensure that Hua Yu would never suffer such torment again.
He wanted to kill Bureau Director Zhou.
But it could not be done too conspicuously. If he killed him directly, the entire Huamanlou would be implicated.
Hua Yan began to study the blending of incense day and night. This time, his purpose was no longer to discover what fragrance smelled the best or pleased people the most.
He was researching how a fragrance could kill.
He finally achieved results, blending a scent that could harm a person entirely undetected. He had Hua Yu light it in the room whenever Bureau Director Zhou arrived, allowing it to burn throughout the night.
This incense was completely harmless to a pleasure-receiver like Hua Yu, but it could silently cause a pleasure-seeker’s mind to turn frantic, driving him to die of sexual exhaustion.
Eventually, a day came when Bureau Director Zhou never returned.
Word had it that he died in the stables of his estate, dying in an incredibly undignified manner, having mistaken his own horse for a concubine—a genuine death from “riding the wind.”
No one knew that this was Hua Yan’s doing. Even Hua Yu never imagined that Bureau Director Zhou’s death had anything to do with the incense Hua Yan had asked him to light.
Hua Yan had thought about earning a living by writing storybooks once he grew old and his looks faded; if he couldn’t write well, he still possessed his talent for blending incense. Opening a cosmetics and rouge shop would ultimately allow him to survive.
It was just that Changli was a nation of men, so the demand for rouge and cosmetics was not substantial. Had he been born in the other three nations, with the vast customer base of women added, his talent for blending incense would have allowed him to amass a fortune.
Aside from earning money through his body, Hua Yan also wished to make a living through his own capabilities.
That would make him feel that his journey into this world possessed a meaning of its own.
Unfortunately, let alone leaving the country, it was currently difficult for him even to leave the palace.
He was a beautiful, calculated, venomous soul who distinguished love from hate clearly. He would not easily harm others, but he would never show mercy to those who sought to harm him. If someone injured those he cared about, he would certainly exact vengeance for them.
Across many lifetimes, Hua Yan had always maintained good relations with many consorts due to his smooth and sophisticated personality, appearing as though he were merely playing along.
However, whenever a consort-route player harmed any one of them, there was a high probability that Hua Yan would personally move to eliminate the player, sparing Lu Xuechao a great deal of trouble.
This actually contradicted Hua Yan’s usual code of standing idly by to preserve himself, yet he had done it regardless.
Consequently, Hua Yan was highly susceptible to being targeted and eliminated by the player, with a mortality rate second only to Lu Xuechao’s.
Sometimes, Hua Yan would be framed by the player with witchcraft, and the success rate of the paid cash-shop framing items was absolute. When Lu Xuechao investigated the case as the master of the inner palace, the culprit discovered would invariably be Hua Yan.
The only action Xie Chongjin could take to resist the system’s settings with all his might was to show mercy to Lu Xuechao alone.
According to the system settings, Hua Yan would inevitably be ordered to commit suicide, even though both Xie Chongjin and Lu Xuechao knew full well that the culprit was not him.
Before Hua Yan’s death, Lu Xuechao personally went to see him off. On the surface, he was the one who had wrongfully accused Hua Yan during the investigation, treating him as the true culprit and causing his wrongful death.
As the poisoned wine traveled down his throat, Hua Yan smiled softly. “I do not hate Your Highness the Empress. You probably… had no choice either.”
It was not surprising that he realized this. The Emperor claimed to love the Empress to everyone, yet in his actions, he solely doted on that murderous Lin Zhanzhi; anyone would find it strange.
Everyone knew it was strange, but what use was that? They couldn’t uncover the cause behind the strangeness, and could only allow themselves to be manipulated, lamenting the cruel twists of fate.
“Hua Yan already saw you when he was eleven years old. You were the top scholar in red robes back then, riding a horse through the long streets, as bright as the moon in the sky. I watched you from within the Huamanlou, feeling that I was like mud on the ground, destined to rot in the dirt for a lifetime, unable to reach such a bright moon.” Hua Yan sighed softly. “I was truly envious.”
Whether Lu Xuechao was the Emperor’s white moonlight was uncertain, but he was undeniably Hua Yan’s white moonlight.
This had nothing to do with romance. It was merely a pitiful soul fallen into the dust, unable to control his own destiny, catching a glimpse of a person of high ideals who could achieve great things for the country and family, born free and possessing grand ambitions—a feeling of heartfelt envy.
“I never expected that you, too, would become unable to control your own actions,” Hua Yan said slowly. “Everyone here is helpless. His Majesty is so, the Third-Rank Scholar is so, you are so… and I have always been so.”
“The Third-Rank Scholar previously taught me a poem called Ode to the Plum Blossom. I think it praises you. It has no intention to vie for spring, letting all the flowers envy. Scattered into mud and crushed into dust, only its fragrance remains as of old.” Blood seeped from the corners of Hua Yan’s lips. “Even when you fall into the dirt, your fragrance remains as of old—that is a scent I can never blend. I was originally a pile of rotten mud, but the Third-Rank Scholar taught me many principles, preventing me from disparaging myself further. Now, the Third-Rank Scholar has also been harmed by that Lin Zhanzhi, who pinned the blame on me. I am not afraid of death; if I were to live on, there would be no one left to teach me poetry.”
Lu Xuechao said, “I can teach you a line of poetry.”
“Fallen flowers are not heartless things; they turn into spring mud to protect the blossoms further.“
Hua Yan asked softly, “What does that mean?”
Before Lu Xuechao could explain, Hua Yan closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, never to wake again.
“This talent of mine can actually be put to use?” Hua Yan asked with novelty.
Although his incense materials were excellent, the market for them in Changli was truly not large.
“The use you can be put to is immense, and blending incense is merely one of them,” Xie Chongjin said.
The incense industry in Changli was stagnant, but it would certainly be highly sought after in the Kingdom of Qifeng and the Kingdom of Leyang. Granted, Changli’s current relations with those two nations were not favorable, and this trade route had not yet been established—but didn’t they still have Helian Xi present?
Helian Xi himself was an extraordinary individual, but as a person of Qifeng, it was indeed inappropriate to immediately demand he work for Changli. Lu Xuechao kept him around purely as a lucky mascot to ease relations between the nations.
The fortune to be made from the incense trade would have to wait until relations between the countries thawed, but that didn’t matter. Lu Xuechao still held many trump cards in his own hands, enough for him to secure his first bucket of gold.
The recipes and medicinal pills Lu Xuechao had researched alone represented an immense commercial opportunity. The single item of the “universal painkiller” meant inexhaustible wealth.
How could he allow the knowledge within his mind to go to waste?
For a nation to prosper and grow strong, the scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants all had to be cultivated. It was true that the Wang family was the wealthiest, but what Lu Xuechao wanted was not charity from them; instead, he wanted half of the Wang family’s profits to prevent a single entity from dominating.
Wealth that could rival the nation and control its economic lifeline… was never a good thing for a state.
Before that, he had to produce some results to reach a level where he could negotiate and cooperate with the Wang family.
“Would you like to take over the Huamanlou? The imperial family will serve as the backing for the Huamanlou, so you won’t have to worry about being bullied,” Lu Xuechao said. “Your foster father wanted to rest long ago, but he kept holding the line all these years because he couldn’t bear to abandon the people in the building.”
Hua Yan was startled, before joking, “But what can I do for the imperial court by taking over the Huamanlou? Could it be like what’s written in the storybooks, using a brothel as an intelligence organization to gather information? I mentioned this storybook to His Majesty before and thought it was highly impressive, but His Majesty said it wasn’t realistic. Anyone with half a brain wouldn’t reveal any major secrets to a prostitute. Those without brains wouldn’t have access to important matters anyway…”
“Major matters will naturally be investigated by the Eastern Depot; there’s no need to steal the jobs of the imperial secret agents,” Lu Xuechao said. “It is primarily to make money.”
Hua Yan: “…”
Hua Yan lowered his eyes. “…Forgive me, Your Highness. I lack grand ambitions and do not wish to take over a brothel.”
A brothel earned money from the sale of bodies, and he was ultimately unwilling to personally force people into such work. Having been rescued from the dust himself, how could he be willing to send others into it?
“Who said it was a brothel?” Lu Xuechao said. “There are so many brothels in the world, one less in the Huamanlou won’t matter. We are changing trades.”
Hua Yan blinked in confusion. “If it’s not a brothel, then what is it?”
“You can take in many orphans like yourself, teaching them to read, write, and acquire a skill so they don’t have to enter the low-born registry. They can take the imperial examinations, marry, and have children, working in the building normally during the day, selling their arts but not their bodies.”
Hua Yan grew even more bewildered. “…Are we doing charity?”
Furthermore… if they were entirely clean performers, would anyone actually come?
“Not at all.” Lu Xuechao pondered for a moment. “It should be a restaurant, a pharmacy, a cosmetics shop, a silk store… all industries gathered into one. The Huamanlou in Yuqing is merely the first; in the future, there will be branches all across the realm.”
Hua Yan: “…” It certainly doesn’t sound like charity; it sounds like a dream.
Hua Yan spoke honestly, “I do not possess such immense capability to dabble in so many industries…”
“I do. Just listen to me.” Lu Xuechao’s gaze was calm.
Hua Yan: “…” The Empress is truly terrifying.
“Furthermore, while we don’t expect to gather major intelligence, listening to some casual gossip isn’t bad either. The Eastern Depot can gather information, but their manpower is limited. Do you know where the most news is found, and where rumors spread the most easily?”
Hua Yan hesitated, unsure if he should respond.
Xie Chongjin picked up the thread: “Teahouses, wine taverns, brothels, and theaters.”
Hua Yan’s expression shook.
He suddenly didn’t dare to contemplate what lay behind those words.
A matter of such immense gravity… was it truly something he could participate in?
Yet, undeniably, a surge of unprecedented excitement rose within his heart. He suddenly understood the burning passion that Fu Xinian and the other three had felt just moments ago.
“I believe in your capabilities. So, Young Master Hua, are you willing to take over and become Master Hua?” Despite it being their very first meeting, the Empress actually dared to say such words to him.
Hua Yan fell silent for a long moment, before gritting his teeth. “Hua Yan accepts.”
Fallen flowers appeared to be useless things, but if they turned into spring mud to protect the blossoms, they could still create immense value.
This was the meaning Hua Yan had spent a lifetime searching for.
Lu Xuechao’s desire to tap into Hua Yan’s commercial potential was not driven solely by a heart of exploitation.
He wanted these fallen flowers within the spring mud to return to the branches, blooming into a true Huamanlou—a building filled with flowers.
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