In the capital, there was a man skilled in ventriloquism.

If this were anywhere else, Xia Lin wouldn't bother sparing a second glance, no matter how pretty the girl might be. Courtesans were just a matter of money—the most boring sort. Give them cash, and they would cheerfully submit; withhold it, and they would turn hostile in an instant. It was always a transaction through and through, utterly tedious.

However, finding two courtesans in a place like this—now that was interesting.

Though Xia Lin didn't strike up a conversation, he didn't sit far away either. He merely turned slightly in his seat and began eavesdropping on their chat with an air of nonchalance. He was genuinely curious: what on earth were courtesans doing in a place of quiet Buddhist seclusion? Were they praying for a good marriage or for children?

"My lady, this trip has been dreadfully ill-fated. That man is simply too ungrateful. We traveled thousands of miles to find him, only to discover he isn't even here. Now we only have a month left, and half of that must be reserved for the return journey. Who knows how long we'll have to wait?"

The girl speaking beside her was slightly younger, around fourteen or fifteen, with a crisp, clear voice. From her very first words, she was unmistakably a maid. Even though her attire didn't strictly look like one, her entire demeanor gave her away.

"Xiaocui, hush. It's just that he happened to be away on business; missing each other is quite normal. We have no familial ties and have never met before; he has his own affairs to attend to and cannot possibly wait around exclusively for us."

When the older one spoke, her voice was as melodious and charming as an oriole issuing from the valley. One could tell immediately that she was the mistress. Selecting a courtesan, after all, required following the traditional principles of traditional medicine: looking, listening, questioning, and feeling. "Looking" meant examining appearance—one couldn't possibly choose someone who looked like the Black Whirlwind Li Kui, with a chest covered in thick hair and sideburns meeting a beard; no decent man could swallow that pill.

"Listening" naturally referred to scent. While one couldn't rule out the odd individual who fancied a strong, animalistic musk, the vast majority preferred someone wrapped in a faint, ethereal fragrance with a delicate natural scent. If someone walked past smelling like a half-rotted sow that had died in the midsummer heat, not even the Jade Emperor himself could endure it.

"Questioning" meant listening to the voice. This required four specific qualities: round, clear, and resonant. Too shrill wouldn't do—sounding like a little princess who was obviously still a child. Too boorish was equally unacceptable, where a single opened mouth produced the roar of an overlord, which was the ultimate mood killer. What one wanted was a tender yet smooth, level yet mellow tone, preferably ending with a lingering, melodious cadence. That was the absolute pinnacle of auditory perfection.

Finally came "feeling." That naturally meant laying hands on them: checking for styes on the eyelids, nasal polyps, decayed or crooked teeth, and assessing whether the skin was tender, smooth, soft, ample, and free of prickly stubble. A good courtesan had to pass all four tests just to be considered on the fringes of a top courtesan.

Only then did one move on to the zither, chess, calligraphy, painting, and the arts of song and wind instruments.

Based on what Xia Lin had observed so far, although the woman wore a veil, her brows and eyes were entirely without flaw. Her skin was white, smooth, and delicate like orchids, and her fingers were slender. Though she was seated, one could tell from her posture that she wasn't short. And although heavy clothing hid her exact measurements, her waist-to-hip ratio appeared exceptional.

Her vocal qualities were also superb. If this little voice were to sing a popular street ditty, it would undoubtedly carry an immense, captivating allure.

If you wondered how Xia Lin knew these details in such depth, it was naturally because he had many retired professional practitioners among his acquaintances. These insights into the extreme objectification of women had all been imparted to him by those very veterans. Whenever he had leisure time, Xia Lin would occasionally go for a foot bath or a massage, and those retired sisters-in-trade were exceptionally fond of him, frequently chatting with him about all sorts of things. Some of those topics were exceedingly taboo, and as a young man, listening to them naturally got his blood pumping. The sisters certainly didn't mind offering to help the young magistrate take care of his personal hygiene matters.

Over time, Xia Lin had managed to summarize a set of experiences: those hailing from the south possessed supreme vocal techniques, with Jinling taking the crown, truly living up to its imperial capital reputation. Those coming from the north had strong hands, led by Youzhou's Beiping Prefecture.

However, these sisters weren't mere courtesans; they were professional technicians. Their assistance stemmed from personal affection and fell outside the standard service package, so Xia Lin treated them with considerable respect, making them worlds apart from the street-level courtesans.

"My lady, my lady, the man next to us has been keeping his ears pricked, listening to our conversation."

Suddenly, the maid lowered her voice and whispered. Hearing this, Xia Lin straightened up and looked around, thinking to himself: There isn't a soul around here except them—what is this, imaginary combat? Truly disgusting.

The lady merely smiled. "Let him listen if he likes. We aren't discussing anything unseemly."

"My lady, let's eat quickly. That man doesn't look like a good person at all. We're in unfamiliar territory here, and if anything were to happen, it would be terribly troublesome. I heard that not long ago, some of our sisters taking a boat to Zhenjiang were waylaid by bandits along the way and barely escaped with their lives."

"Mhm..." The lady's voice took on a hint of fear as well. "Then let us eat quickly."

Huh?

Xia Lin turned the thought over in his mind and realized that at this hour, he was the only person sitting here. What did they mean by "doesn't look like a good person"? Wherever Xia Lin, styled Daosheng, went, people never failed to praise him as an outstanding young talent. How did he suddenly become a bad person in the mouth of a courtesan?

Did she not understand the hierarchy? Among the four classes—scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants—scholars ranked the highest and courtesans the lowest. For a courtesan to call a scholar a bad person?

Unacceptable. This matter demanded an argument.

Xia Lin spun around and strode over to the adjacent table, sitting down uninvited. "Which of you two said I don't look like a good person?"

"My lady, my lady... he's coming over..."

The little maid's voice trembled, and the lady instinctively retreated a step. But a moment later, the maid lowered her voice once more. "My lady, my lady, he's exceptionally handsome. He doesn't look like a bad guy."

Ah?

Xia Lin was momentarily choked into silence by a fourteen- or fifteen-year-old kid. Come on, brother, judging someone's character entirely by their facial features is a bit too obvious, isn't it? What you said isn't technically wrong, but you certainly haven't met a piece of filth named Zhang Zhongchun. If you knew him, you'd never say something like that.

The lady, however, remained silent, merely gazing at Xia Lin with guarded vigilance. Xia Lin, meanwhile, hooked one leg over the bench, draped his arm over his knee, and sat there looking for all the world like a mountain bandit chieftain.

"You two, stop discussing people behind their backs, understand? Don't you know who runs this place? If you keep running your mouths, see if I don't sell you off into the mountains to wait on the miners!"

Having grown accustomed to the romantic scenes of poetry and wine and the refined company of scholars, this was the first time the lady, Yun, had ever encountered a ruffian who threatened to sell people into the mountains on sight. It made her entire body tense up, her expression turning deeply defensive. After carefully and earnestly looking Xia Lin up and down, however, her anxiety surprisingly began to dissipate.

She noticed that the man held a folding fan, was dressed in proper scholarly attire, and wore a square official seal in a brocade pouch at his waist, alongside a military tally similarly encased.

Judging by these paired accessories, the tally represented military authority, while the square seal represented administrative power. For a single individual to possess both meant he was the local magistrate of a given region. His official rank might not be terribly high, but he was undeniably an official—and one holding real, substantive power at that.

Yet, judging by the things he said, this person ought to be a young military commander managing some major encampment; otherwise, ordinarily, nobody so young could become the local magistrate of a territory.

Once she reasoned this out and looked back at Xia Lin, her demeanor completely relaxed. She even took the initiative to remove her veil, asking in a soft, gentle murmur, "Then, Honorable Sir, how much do you suppose I could fetch if I were sold?"

Upon beholding the woman's visage, even Xia Lin, a man accustomed to moving amidst throngs of beauties, couldn't help but momentarily freeze. This countenance was near perfection; in terms of sheer facial beauty... in all honesty, only Chuntao could stand shoulder to shoulder with her.

Yet Chuntao, after all, had been strictly selected by the imperial household—tribute-grade, so to speak. Could just anyone picked at random reach the tribute level? That was impossible.

Combining this with the courtesan scent lingering on the woman and their accents when speaking, she had to be a courtesan from the imperial capital—and an extremely elite one at that, for ordinary courtesans were never granted vacations.

A few sisters who had transferred back to Xinping Township from the capital had mentioned during chats that along the Qinhuai River, there were four brilliant beauties and two peerless paragons. The four brilliant ones were Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter: Chunliu and Ruyan for spring, Zhao Xiaohuan and Furong for summer, Wu Qing'er and Haitang for autumn, and Lan Huiru and Xinmei for winter. The two peerless paragons, who alternately dominated the crown of flower mistresses, were Yu Tingyun and Feng Lingyue.

However, Chun was a northerner who spoke with a Chang'an accent. Xia was a native of Jiangxia, whose speech was peppered with distinct regional phrasing. Qiu hailed from Quanzhou and had a completely different accent. As for Dong... Dong had been redeemed by a patron the previous year, leaving the pleasure boats behind to live a virtuous life and bear children.

That being the case, this level of beauty could only be chosen from the two peerless paragons: Yu Tingyun or Feng Lingyue...

According to the sisters, Feng Lingyue excelled at playing the vertical bamboo flute; her mastery of the jade flute was lingering and evocative, capable of filling listeners with a mix of sorrow and joy, profound and deeply resonant. Yu Tingyun, on the other hand, excelled at stringed instruments, especially the pipa, whose mastery could truly be called transcendent. Yet that was merely a rumor, for she rarely played the pipa for anyone, claiming that only a patron who truly met her exacting standards would have the privilege of hearing her music.

More importantly, all six of them were "vegetative courtesans"—they sold romance and artistry, never crossing the final line.

Looking at the pipa resting beside them, Xia Lin had already roughly guessed who the woman before him was.

He smiled without exposing her, instead speaking in a cheerful tone: "How much you sell for isn't up to me to decide; it depends entirely on the buyer. Three or five taels isn't too little; three or five thousand isn't too much."

Lady Yun let out a light, tinkling laugh. "Three or five taels and you want to sell me off? Good brother, what a cruel heart you have."

Xia Lin scoffed. "Consider it a windfall then. Let me ask you, where did you come from, and where are you headed?"

Both of them had a fairly good grasp of each other's backgrounds in their hearts. Xia Lin knew considerably more, and Lady Yun knew quite a bit as well—aside from not yet realizing that Xia Lin was actually Xia Lin himself, everything else was already close to the mark. Yet the verbal sparring on the surface continued unabated, the core principle being that neither party uttered a single completely truthful word.

"I originally intended to go to Xinping Township to seek my husband, only to find that he had already departed ahead of time."

"Xinping Township? I'm quite familiar with Xinping Township. Who are you looking for?" Xia Lin blinked. "I'm from Xinping Township myself."

Lady Yun's gaze gradually grew sorrowful. "It's my fiancé, whom I've never met. I suppose you wouldn't know him."