Even if you scream until you lose your voice...

"Ahem, how could we dare to gossip about Her Majesty? Today it's just me, but if outsiders heard this, forget about doing business in the imperial capital—our lives would be at stake!"

"Yes, yes, Young Master is absolutely right."

The Blood Refining Hall Master knew this son of the Minister of Rites was all bark and no bite.

He was happy to let people catch him on minor faults.

"As for your proposal earlier..."

Young Master Song caught sight of the door opening, where several young women, now changed into fresh attire and carrying wooden basins, stood waiting—among them was Hua Nongying.

"I’ll mention it to my father. After the Hidden Dragon Conference, it’s time for some excitement. This Hundred Blossoms Festival sounds fitting, though it still needs approval from the officials and His Majesty. That part is beyond my control."

"Young Master has already been a tremendous help!"

The Blood Refining Hall Master clasped his hands in gratitude and presented a small vial of pills. "A humble token of appreciation, nothing worthy of your stature."

"Hmm?"

Young Master Song seemed dissatisfied with the gift, raising an eyebrow as if it were too meager.

The Blood Refining Hall Master chuckled. "This was obtained by chance—said to be refined from the essence of the Nine Suns. Most nourishing for vitality... and vigor."

"Mm. You may go." Young Master Song quietly pocketed the vial.

The Hall Master nodded, then exchanged a glance with Luo Yexian.

"We’re leaving already?"

Luo Yexian eyed the two rows of young women ushered in by Hua Nongying, reluctant to depart.

With this many, they could’ve set up two mahjong tables.

After hearing Young Master Song’s command—"All of them stay"—the door slammed shut.

As the two descended the stairs, the Blood Refining Hall Master’s lips curled into a cold smirk.

"Now, the scene when the Celestial City emerges will truly be lively. Murky waters make for easier fishing... If the Yin-Yang Hall’s people still can’t infiltrate... even the Venerable Cult Leader won’t be able to blame me for incompetence."

"Keh keh keh..."

Luo Yexian obliged with a sinister chuckle.

Old Luo had always been good at idling around. Back when he’d mingled with Han Zhen’s inner circle during Cult meetings, he’d played the role of hype man whenever the Grand Preceptor announced plans.

He never bothered understanding the Grand Preceptor’s schemes—just laughed when expected.

The Blood Refining Hall Master suddenly felt Luo Yexian truly understood him.

It was as if half the plan had already succeeded before execution.

Passing the counter, he tossed out a glazed pearl and said,

"Ensure the young master we brought is well attended. He’s the deity looming over your heads—do not slight him."

"Sir, we treat all guests equally here."

"Tch. You know what I mean."

The Hall Master left it at that.

Whoever owned this place—did they really think they could run a legitimate business? They’d bleed dry.

If not for profit, why open a business? For fun?

......

Moments later.

Li Mo, Xie Xuan, and Zhong Zhenyue entered.

"Boss, I told them we’re a proper establishment, but that guest from the Fragrant Pavilion didn’t seem convinced."

"By the time I chased after him, he’d already vanished."

The female manager had once been a "vase girl" at the Moonlit Pavilion—before that, the daughter of a merchant family.

After her household was implicated in a crime, she’d been consigned to the Ministry of Rites’ pleasure houses before eventually ending up here.

"Then return it to the guest from the Fragrant Pavilion."

Li Mo didn’t even glance at the pearl, instead surveying the shop’s business.

Frankly, it was a bit quiet.

He wasn’t surprised, though. Most people avoided overly "proper" establishments, so slow business was expected.

"Old Zhong, why’d you pocket that pearl?"

"Huh? Ah—damn, this thing just crawled into my robe on its own!"

Zhong Zhenyue scowled, placing the glazed pearl back on the counter. He muttered,

"I thought once we opened, gold would pour in. Instead, Boss Li has to pay salaries out of pocket..."

"Not everyone’s like Brother Xie, washing his feet eight times a day just for the sake of it."

"Then why did you even open this place, Boss?"

Zhong Zhenyue didn’t get it.

Truthfully, no one would.

"Foot therapy alone might be a tad monotonous... We’ll add more services later. Step by step. More people will come once word spreads."

Li Mo hadn’t opened this place to make money.

But making it livelier was necessary.

Xie Xuan cleared his throat. "Where’s No. 88?"

The manager sighed. "Madam Nongying also went to the Fragrant Pavilion... and, well... she’s their manager now."

"Since when?!" Xie Xuan was stunned.

Zhong Zhenyue coughed. "I approved it. She offered... a considerable sum."

"????"

"......"

Li Mo was speechless.

One guy came daily to wash his feet eight times with the same technician.

Another paid the boss just to stay at the Moonlit Pavilion.

Hard to judge.

On reflection, the latter was stranger. When Li Mo had torn up all the girls’ indenture contracts and offered travel funds to those who wished to leave, most had stayed—understandable, as some had nowhere else to go.

But Hua Nongying? A peerless beauty on the Hundred Blossoms Ranking—she could’ve gone anywhere.

Yet she paid to remain...

Surely not because of him?

CRASH—

Suddenly, the sound of shattering and raised voices erupted from the Fragrant Pavilion.

"Troublemakers?" The manager hugging the account books blinked.

"Lock the doors, release the—"

Li Mo remembered his master wasn’t here and coughed. "Let’s go check."

Upstairs, the voices grew clearer:

"I just took a Nine Suns Pill, and you’re telling me this place serves vegetarian dishes?"

"You think I’m some greenhorn? Or that this is some Crown Prince-backed imperial venture?"

"Go on, scream. Even if you shatter your throat, no one dares stop this young master—"

BANG—

To Zhong Zhenyue’s dismay, Li Mo kicked the door open.

Inside, they saw a flushed Young Master Song frantically loosening his belt, while a woman—Hua Nongying—kneeled motionless at his feet, as if paralyzed.

Veins bulged along her neck, straining against some unseen force. She couldn’t move, couldn’t even close her mouth.

Her eyes darted to Li Mo in the doorway. A single tear fell.

"Which dog-fathered bastard—?!"

Young Master Song whirled around in fury.

He’d coveted Hua Nongying for ages, but her previous backing—the Fourth Prince, or rather, the Crown Prince—had deterred him. Now, with his "arrow nocked," someone dared kick in his door?

Li Mo’s gaze drifted downward. His expression shifted to something like pity.

"Tsk..."

"????"

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