Lu Jin, One Hundred Thousand Silver Dollars

Clang—

A clear gong strike cut short Lu Jin's sermon and pulled everyone's attention back to reality.

The lights in the first-floor hall suddenly dimmed, leaving only a spotlight on the center of the stage.

The musicians who had been performing rose and left.

Then a beautiful woman in her prime walked onstage in a purple high-slit qipao, holding a sandalwood fan and swaying gracefully with every step.

Her beauty had not faded. Her eyes and brows held three parts shrewdness and seven parts allure. She was Qin Niang, one of the managers of Zither Strings House.

"Good evening, gentlemen."

Qin Niang's voice carried through the hall, soft and sweet yet perfectly clear.

"Welcome to the Zither Pavilion Relief Foundation."

"Our mission is to give every displaced sister in need a warm home."

"Tonight, please give generously. Every time you raise your paddle, you perform a good deed and give them hope of surviving these troubled times."

"Pfft—"

Li Xiang nearly spat out his tea.

He froze.

He really froze.

He blinked, wondering if he had heard correctly.

A relief foundation?

Where the hell had he ended up?

He looked around. Red lanterns, perfumed beauties, girls' lilting laughter—this was plainly a house of pleasure.

How had it transformed into a charity?

"The Zither Pavilion Relief Foundation?"

Li Xiang turned to Qin Zhong beside him, incredulity written all over his face. "Senior Brother Qin, didn't the sign over the entrance say Zither Strings House? Where did this relief foundation come from?"

Who would believe he had gone to a house of pleasure for charity?

Qin Zhong chuckled and pointed at his eyes. "Brother Li, you didn't look closely. Think back. Wasn't there something in the lower-right corner of that big sign?"

Li Xiang closed his eyes. His Painter profession gave him an unfailing memory for color, and the sign he had seen at the entrance reappeared clearly in his mind.

Above the doorway, three imposing gilded characters spelled out Zither Strings House.

And in the lower-right corner of those three characters, there really were five tiny, slightly faded characters: Relief Foundation.

Without looking carefully—or using a magnifying glass—you would never see them.

I've crossed into another world, and I'm still running into the fine-print trick?

Li Xiang opened his eyes, his mouth twitching.

That move was almost too slick.

"If this is a relief foundation, what are we doing here?" Li Xiang could not help grumbling.

"Helping poor girls, of course," Qin Zhong answered as if it were obvious.

"..."

Li Xiang was at a loss for words.

Was this kind of help respectable?

Seeing Li Xiang's complicated expression, Qin Zhong lowered his voice and explained, "Here's what happened."

"The south issued new regulations to abolish old customs and promote the New Life Movement. Houses of pleasure were called dregs of the old era and banned."

"On top of that, the socialite culture imported from the West hit our local Courtesan Cultivators hard. Those Western women call themselves 'socialites' and 'artists'—grand-sounding titles that let them steal all the business."

"So most Courtesan Cultivators headed north to make a living. The trade underwent a sweeping reform and gave itself a whole new face."

"Now nobody talks about money. Talking money is vulgar. That's a transaction, an insult to art."

Qin Zhong chuckled. "Now we talk only about relief and compassion. That's called a spirit of giving. That's called charity."

"When a girl keeps you company, she's thanking you for your kindness with a 'display of talent.' It isn't taking a client; it's repaying a favor."

"We're only talking about relief. That makes it charity, and good deeds bring good rewards."

Li Xiang stared, dumbfounded.

The twists and turns were incredible.

To survive, this trade had taken competition to a whole new level.

While the two whispered, Qin Niang spoke again from the stage.

"Now, please welcome our first person in need of relief—Miss Ru Meng."

"Miss Ru Meng has suffered a tragic fate. She sold herself to bury her father and has now found her way here. All she asks is for a kind soul to offer her shelter from the wind and rain for one night."

"She has brought a self-portrait she painted by hand, hoping to meet a patron who appreciates art."

As Qin Niang finished speaking, the curtain opened.

A woman in a plain white dress and light makeup stepped out.

She held a rolled painting and kept her head down, not daring to look at the audience. The shy, timid look in her eyes made her seem like a sheltered girl from next door.

Qin Zhong explained the market to Li Xiang. "She's a Courtesan Cultivator who hasn't entered the profession yet. She's still learning her craft."

"Kind benefactors, please show your generosity."

Qin Niang smiled. "Under our foundation's rules, the benefactor who offers the highest relief donation will receive Miss Ru Meng's self-portrait, and Miss Ru Meng will thank him in person."

"Opening at fifty coins."

Before she had even finished, bids rang out across the hall.

"Sixty!"

"Seventy coins!"

"Eighty!"

Li Xiang watched the men below compete to show their generosity. It struck him as absurd and all too real.

The so-called self-portrait was nothing but a fig leaf, a stand-in.

Buying the painting meant buying the woman.

Soon, the price of the self-portrait was driven up to one silver dollar.

For an ordinary woman, one silver dollar was already an astronomical sum. Even after Zither Strings House took its cut, she would receive quite a lot.

"Vulgar."

Lu Jin, seated in the place of honor, gave a cold snort, his face full of disdain.

"A pack of country bumpkins who've never seen the world. In the West, someone like that wouldn't even be fit to polish a noble's shoes."

"The men of the Great Xin Dynasty really have no idea what the world is like."

He held his teacup and swirled it gently, as though he were the only white lotus blooming in the mud.

Listening beside him, Li Xiang sneered inwardly.

You're so refined, so extraordinary. Then why did you come?

Over the next half hour, dozens of "people in need of relief" took the stage one after another.

Some were skilled at the zither, some at dancing, and some were simply beautiful.

Sitting on the second floor, Li Xiang drank tea and silently did the sums, gradually getting a sense of Zither Strings House's rates.

The hierarchy here was strict, and the prices differed like heaven and earth.

For ordinary Courtesan Cultivators who had not entered the profession, the relief donation was generally under one silver dollar. Their trade depended on volume.

But once a Courtesan Cultivator entered the profession and awakened a Profession Mark, her value instantly multiplied.

Depending on her talents, looks, and special qualities, the relief donation ranged from one to a hundred silver dollars.

And when a Courtesan Cultivator who had achieved full mastery appeared, she truly was one in a hundred. Each was a stunning beauty, and her talents were as breathtaking as her looks.

Even Li Xiang, who had fairly strong self-control, felt his heart race as he watched.

The bidding for one of them in particular was sheer madness.

"One thousand silver dollars! I bid one thousand!"

"Eleven hundred! Nobody try to outbid me!"

In the end, the relief donation reached twelve hundred silver dollars.

"Hiss..."

Li Xiang sucked in a cold breath, his teeth aching at the thought.

Twelve hundred silver dollars?

Since crossing into this world, this was the first time Li Xiang had truly been shocked by its wealth gap and the advantages a profession could bring.

Few other professionals could match it.

"A pack of fools." Lu Jin still did not even lift an eyelid. "How could any of them compare to the precision of mechanical modification?"

At last, all the preliminaries were over.

Onstage, Qin Niang took a deep breath. Her expression turned solemn, and she raised her voice.

"Kind benefactors, tonight's main event has arrived."

"Next is our final guest, the one in greatest need of your wholehearted relief."

"She is Miss Haitang, ranked seventy-ninth on the Top Hundred Fate Artifacts list!"

"Whoa—!"

The entire hall erupted. Everyone stood without thinking and craned their necks.

Not only in the first-floor hall—even the previously closed windows of the private rooms on the second and third floors opened one after another.

Countless greedy, curious, probing gazes turned toward the stage.

Even Lu Jin, who had been pretending to be aloof, set down his teacup and sat up straight.

"She's here!" Qin Zhong shot upright, his breathing quickening. "Brother Li, guard your mind. Don't let yourself get sucked in!"

Li Xiang had no time to ask what he meant by "sucked in."

"Please welcome Miss Haitang."

As Qin Niang finished speaking, every light in Zither Strings House went out.

In the darkness, only a single spotlight shone on the center of the stage.

"Swish... swish..."

It was not an instrument playing, nor a gramophone recording.

It was the unmistakable sound of waves breaking against rocks.

The clear sound of the sea rose from somewhere unknown and echoed in every ear.

At first it was faint, like a breeze brushing the sea's surface. Gradually it grew louder, swelling into the roar of towering waves crashing against the shore.

Li Xiang felt the scene before his eyes change.

The glittering stage vanished, replaced by a vast, boundless deep sea.

A woman in a blue gauze dress came toward him from the depths, barefoot and walking on the waves.

With every step she took, ripples spread beneath her feet.

As she drew closer, an immense pull arose out of nowhere.

It was not wind, but a tug from deep within his soul.

Li Xiang felt his whole body about to float away, his soul seemingly ready to leave his flesh, be drawn into the woman, and sink into the embrace of that boundless sea.

It felt dangerous, yet inviting enough to lose himself in, as peaceful as returning to the womb.

This is... an expert?!

Shock thundered through Li Xiang. He bit down hard on the tip of his tongue, using the pain to force himself awake.

This was no mere woman. She was a human-shaped black hole, a walking illusion formation.

Her mere entrance had been enough to plunge hundreds of people into a hallucination at once.

The seventy-ninth-ranked Fate Artifact, Azure Sea Conch, was wondrous enough to give people the illusion of "hearing the ocean tide and grasping the mysteries of Zen."

Then how terrifying would the top ten be?

The legendary number-one Fate Artifact surfaced unbidden in Li Xiang's mind.

"An immortal laid a hand upon my head; I bound my hair and received eternal life."

As Li Xiang's thoughts wandered, Qin Niang spoke again from the stage, unable to hide the pride in her voice.

"The Azure Sea Conch is wondrous beyond words."

"Miss Haitang is a master who can cleanse souls and aid professionals in their cultivation."

"That is why countless heroes have bowed before her."

"She needs no further introduction. The usual rules apply."

"Each bid must rise by at least one thousand silver dollars."

One thousand silver dollars just to start.

That threshold shut out ninety-nine percent of those present.

The hall fell deathly silent. Only heavy breathing could be heard.

Even the wealthy merchants who had bid most fiercely earlier now looked troubled.

A thousand silver dollars was working capital. Who carried that much cash when they went out?

Just then, an arrogant, cold voice came through the open window of a second-floor private room and rang clearly across the hall.

"Lu Jin bids one hundred thousand silver dollars!"