BXG - 10

The Fall from the Tower

The wind chimes hanging from the eaves of the carriage tinkled merrily as they passed through the bustling streets of Bianjing.

Qu You found Zhou Tan’s expression—hovering between wanting to speak and holding back—amusing, so she let herself enjoy the sight a little longer before finally asking, “What do you want to say?”

“Why did you argue with your father?” Zhou Tan asked gruffly.

“I was simply stating the truth,” Qu You countered. “Didn’t you save him from the Ministry of Justice’s prison? The marriage decree came directly from the Emperor’s mouth—it wasn’t your fault. Even if he wanted to vent his anger, it shouldn’t have been directed at you.”

Qu Cheng hadn’t expected her to defend Zhou Tan. Caught off guard, he had grown furious, stormed off, and left them on bad terms.

“He is your father.”

“Do you think I, as a daughter, shouldn’t stand up to my own parent?” Qu You smiled as she studied his reaction. “His hatred for you stems from his stance; the fact that you saved him is undeniable. No matter how much he dislikes you, those two things shouldn’t be conflated.”

Zhou Tan stared at her silently, perhaps taken aback by her coldly rational speech, devoid of familial bias.

Qu You cleared her throat and teased, “Well? Aren’t you moved?”

Zhou Tan shot her a glare and turned to lift the carriage curtain, gazing outward.

Qu You suddenly found his somewhat defeated yet stubborn demeanor rather endearing and decided to press further. “What does your silence mean? You did something good—are you saying even hearing a word of thanks is too much?”

Zhou Tan’s hand froze for a moment before he quietly replied, “Miss Qu, I didn’t force you to defy your father.”

This man truly couldn’t be swayed, whether by softness or harshness.

Qu You was exasperated. “I don’t care—you must thank me.”

“And stop calling me Miss Qu—it sounds so awkward.” How could someone still refer to their newlywed wife as Miss?

Zhou Tan asked, “How do you want me to thank you?”

Qu You hesitated, tugging at the small braid hanging from her coiffure. After a moment of thought, inspiration struck. “Never mind, just treat me to a meal at Fanlou.”

Fanlou was renowned in historical records. Back when she lived in the Qu household, she had often fantasized about visiting it. However, the main hall didn’t admit women, and private rooms required status and wealth to book. She could only dream wistfully.

Now, borrowing Zhou Tan’s class privilege, she could finally fulfill that wish.

To her surprise, Zhou Tan agreed immediately, even instructing the driver to change course right away. Moreover, the owner of Fanlou seemed to recognize him and led them without hesitation to the fifth floor of the eastern wing, reserved for esteemed guests.

After taking a sip of the freshly brewed tea brought to him, Zhou Tan noticed Qu You’s eyes lighting up and asked, “You’ve never been here before?”

Qu You was busy sampling a plate of candied plum blossoms and ignored him, internally critiquing: sugar-preserved plums carved into flowers—ornate but impractical, overly sweet.

She switched to a popular dish, suyou baoluo (a type of honey-glazed cream puff), which was famous enough to appear in nearly every time-travel food novel. Full of anticipation, she took a bite—and was thoroughly disappointed. Cream puffs drizzled with honey, excessively sweet.

Their private room on the fifth floor was marked with a sign reading “Liu Xiang Ke” (Fragrant Guest). From the owner’s tone, it seemed this room was specially reserved for Zhou Tan—he was clearly a regular customer.

No wonder he had agreed so readily.

The waiter brought dishes like amber candy and various dragon-shaped pastries. Qu You pushed them toward Zhou Tan: maltose and sorghum syrup—not healthy if eaten in excess.

Outside the private room, faint strains of music drifted in. The main hall seemed to host some performance in the afternoon, accompanied by applause from the guests.

Zhou Tan opened the door to their private room, which offered an excellent view. A glance downward revealed the performance below.

Petals fluttered down as a melodious voice sang a tender, romantic tune.

Finally, Qu You found something to her liking—cheese dumplings. Overcome with emotion, she teared up: cream cheese! So nostalgic!

Looking up, she saw Zhou Tan leaning lazily against the doorway, lost in thought as petals from the seventh floor drifted onto his white jade coronet.

Truly a pleasing sight.

Following his gaze, Qu You spotted a gorgeously dressed woman amid a sea of flowers below.

The woman was playing the moon lute and singing softly, adorned with floral hairpins and an elaborate coiffure. As Qu You glanced down, the woman happened to look up at Zhou Tan.

Even from such a distance, Qu You could clearly see the flirtatious glint in her eyes, brimming with charm.

“So beautiful,” Qu You remarked sincerely, turning to Zhou Tan beside her. “Do you know her?”

Zhou Tan gently set down his celadon porcelain cup and replied, “That’s Chun Niangzi, the top courtesan of Spring Wind and Rain Pavilion, Bianjing’s most famous brothel.”

The legendary courtesan—finally, she had seen one with her own eyes!

Qu You leaned over the railing, marveling. “What’s she doing here?”

“She performs here once a month,” Zhou Tan explained.

As Qu You listened to the courtesan’s graceful and enchanting melody, she suddenly recalled the second poem from Spring and Sandalwood Collection .

During his days of debauchery, Zhou Tan had written licentious poems that spread throughout Bianjing. She remembered the title: Ode to Spring Wind and Rain Pavilion on a Drunken Qixi Night .

“Behind embroidered doors, songs and dances unfold; in jade towers, wine flows freely. Lips meet softly on fragrant pillows; hands hold scrolls of love poems.”

It sounded both despicable and captivating.

Spring Wind and Rain Pavilion… Qu You suddenly understood. Beneath that aloof exterior lay a hidden playboy.

Perhaps he even had a past with the courtesan below.

Historical texts described him as “fond of beauty,” likely based on these poems. Qu You propped her chin on her hand and studied Zhou Tan carefully, reciting teasingly, “Lord Zhou is quite the charmer—riding a horse, leaning on a slanted bridge, with red sleeves waving from every tower.”

Zhou Tan was startled, then a faint blush of irritation colored his cheeks. “I… am not a libertine.”

“It’s fine, no need to be embarrassed,” Qu You reassured him. “Everyone loves beauty—even I admire pretty sisters. Next time you visit a brothel, can you take me along? I really want to experience it. Don’t worry, I can dress as a man…”

Before she could finish, she noticed Zhou Tan suddenly straighten up as if he’d seen something. Puzzled, Qu You followed his gaze and saw a disheveled woman in green standing in the corridor outside their private room.

The woman’s lips were injured, her hair half undone, and her clothes torn, exposing part of her shoulder. She looked as though she had just endured some form of abuse.

Without thinking, Qu You stood up and climbed over the railing to approach her. “Miss, what happened to you…?”

Zhou Tan also rose to his feet.

Seeing her approach, the woman snapped out of her daze and gave a bitter smile. Her trembling lips seemed to want to say something.

Qu You couldn’t make out her lip movements. “Miss, what are you saying… Miss!!”

Just as she drew near, the woman suddenly pushed her and leapt over the railing, falling from the side!

Zhou Tan rushed forward, almost leaning out of the railing himself. Qu You, terrified, quickly wrapped her arms around his waist to prevent him from falling after her.

Even so, Zhou Tan’s fingers failed to catch the edge of her garment.

He felt the gauzy fabric brush past his fingertips—but he grasped nothing.

Qu You watched as his hand, frozen mid-air, slowly clenched into a fist. He took several heavy breaths before closing his eyes, unable to bear the sight.

Only then did she gradually regain her composure, releasing her grip and looking down.

Shouts of horror erupted around them. The eastern wing of Fanlou was usually the busiest area, and it was the peak dining hour. Today, with the courtesan performing, the crowd numbered in the thousands.

Chun Niangzi, renowned for her moon lute skills, was a big draw. Private rooms above the third floor were almost fully booked.

People quickly gathered at the railings on each floor. Some were shirtless, embracing women; others wore official robes, clearly high-ranking officials. They pointed and whispered fearfully, occasionally punctuated by screams.

Below, in the main hall, Chun Niangzi still stood on the circular stage, absently plucking a few notes from her moon lute.

The body of the green-clad woman lay crushed beside her, staining the intricately painted peony pattern on the stage floor with blood and flesh, making the flowers appear even more vivid.

Chun Niangzi silently placed her moon lute on the ground, then removed her red-and-gold embroidered outer robe to cover the woman’s body.

Fanlou was heavily monitored due to its high foot traffic. Within moments, armed guards entered through the eastern wing’s main entrance and surrounded the stage.

Minor criminal cases in Bianjing were typically handled by local magistrates, but major cases involving the court fell under the Ministry of Justice. Qu You and Zhou Tan exchanged a glance, noting the weightiness in each other’s eyes.

This incident occurred at this time, in this place, witnessed by most of Bianjing’s elite—it would likely exceed the jurisdiction of local authorities. Once public opinion stirred, it would inevitably fall to the Ministry of Justice to investigate.

Soon, armed guards arrived on their floor. Since the woman had fallen between their private room, “Liu Xiang Ke,” and another nearby room, the guards briefly questioned them before coldly requesting that they accompany them to the nearest Zhaosi Office.

In such public cases, patrolling city guards would temporarily detain suspects at the nearest of Bianjing’s twelve Zhaosi Offices until the capital prefecture or Ministry of Justice took over.

Qu You had once criticized this system while studying criminal law. In reality, the Zhaosi Offices functioned like powerless police stations, but the procedure itself was efficient and had endured for centuries.

However, these guards didn’t seem to recognize Zhou Tan.

With his hands clasped behind his back, Zhou Tan made no attempt to explain but hesitated slightly before meeting her gaze. Uncharacteristically, he added, “This is standard procedure. The Zhaosi Office only holds detainees temporarily; no punishment is administered there.”

Qu You nodded vigorously, stepping forward to link her arm with his in a familiar manner. “I know, let’s go.”

These names and procedures were ones she had studied countless times. Yet, while writing her thesis, she had never imagined she’d one day personally experience them.

As they exited, they passed by the cordoned-off stage where Chun Niangzi was speaking quietly with the leader of the armed guards. Qu You heard her sigh mournfully.

Outside, the sun blazed brightly at noon. Stepping out, Qu You was momentarily blinded by the glare. Shielding her eyes from the scorching light, she noticed the solemn gravity etched on Zhou Tan’s face.

What… was he thinking about now?