Within the pavilion, the zither's notes drifted faintly, accompanied by a mournful song.
Had Liu Xiaowen encountered such a scene beside a spirit lake on some immortal mountain, he might have taken the performer for a hidden master or a spectral maiden manifesting herself. He might even have tapped along and praised her playing.
Waves of cloying perfume and cosmetics wafted through the air, making him feel slightly sick. Several women approached, hoping to strike up a conversation, but he waved them away.
Liu Xingfang sat beside him, poured some wine, and asked with a smile:
"What do you think of her playing and singing, senior brother?"
Liu Xiaowen had already realized what sort of place Liu Xingfang had brought him to. Displeased, he merely said softly:
"A pity she's a woman of the pleasure quarters. However well she plays, however beautifully she sings, they're still lewd lyrics and sensual tunes, unfit for respectable company."
Liu Xingfang shook his head and replied with a smile:
"Don't look down on her, senior brother. The woman onstage is quite famous. They call her Master Fan, and her playing and singing are unrivaled in Red Cloud. She rarely appears in public, only performing for a few days during festivals."
"We were lucky to catch her today."
Liu Xiaowen was clearly not particularly interested. Instead, he glanced around and spotted a familiar face.
A rather short man sat in an elevated gallery. No women surrounded him; instead, he was laughing and chatting with a monk in pink robes whose skin was lustrous white. The monk wore a White Bone Bead Rosary that radiated streaks of pink jeweled light.
Someone from the Duan Clan. Is that Duan Pingdu?
Duan Pingdu had seized the opportunity meant for the Longevity Monastery back then, leaving a deep impression