# 187. Missed by a Hair
*We urged her a myriad times until she appeared, with half her face hiding behind the Pipa still.*
*When Bai Juyi wrote this line, did he perhaps mean to subtly criticise the pipa player for being overly pretentious?*
Xu Qi'an felt that the oiran named Hongxiu was rather pretentious, or perhaps she held herself in high regard. She arrived fashionably late to the tea gathering, and with a lukewarm smile, she raised her wine cup and said:
"Your servant wasn't feeling well and had to rest for a while. Please forgive me, milords."
She took a sip of wine as an apology, but didn't make any more of a performance.
Nonetheless, some made efforts to engage in games like drinking games. Since everyone present was a Bronze Gong, the games were simple and crude, involving fist guessing and dice rolling.
*The smile is too professional… her back is too straight, her posture is stiff, indicating she isn't truly engaged... she’s quite wary of physical contact with patrons. When I touched her hand earlier, there was disgust in her eyes...*
*In short: she looks down on martial artists.*
Xu Qi'an enjoyed observing people's micro-expressions and subtle actions, as these details often reflected their inner thoughts.
This was a habit he developed from his previous profession.
Hongxiu's demeanor reminded Xu Qi'an of when he first met oiran Fuxiang. On that day, the renowned oiran of the capital's Jiaofangsi also maintained a superficially courteous but internally aloof attitude.
However, Fuxiang's professionalism was higher, and she didn't make it as obvious. Hongxiu, on the other hand, was a tad more blatant.
Of course, Fuxiang was from the Capital’s Jiaofangsi — what kind of place was the capital? A place where the top of the top of society gathered, how could a place like Yuzhou compare?
Professionalism issues aside, Hongxiu was naturally very beautiful, possessing the delicate and tender qualities of a Jiangnan woman.
Her speech always carried soft, lingering tones, making her sound as if she were speaking to a lover, no matter who she was talking to.
"Allow your servant to play a piece for everyone," Hongxiu said with a gentle smile.
"Hongxiu's qin skills are renowned throughout Yuzhou's Jiaofangsi. If you come to our Yuzhou Jiaofangsi, you must listen to her play," an official from the Transport Office eagerly praised her.
It was as if he was introducing a local specialty to esteemed guests from afar, embellishing its merits as much as possible.
After she finished playing a piece, the official from the Transport Office cheerfully raised his cup, "Sirs, what do you think?"
Song Tingfeng, being a seasoned veteran, quickly raised his cup and responded, “She can certainly hold a candle to the oiran Fuxiang of the capital.”
*There's still a bit of a gap...* Xu Qi'an wasn't being partial to his own favoured courtesan; he was simply making an objective assessment.
Fuxiang's qin skills were as exceptional as her other talents.
“Is she the oiran who inspired the lines *Delicate, tilting branches reflected on clear and shallow water; its subtle fragrance drifts with the rising moon at dusk*?” The Transport Office official's eyes lit up.
The distance between Yuzhou and the capital was great, but that poem had been out for quite some time, and letters exchanged among scholars had spread it to various regions.
Those lines were widely circulated, more so than “*On the road ahead, surely will be friends dear and true; Throughout the land is there anyone who knows not you?*”
"Indeed," Song Tingfeng replied.
"Rumour has it that Fuxiang is a stunning beauty, one of the finest in the world," the Transport Office official eagerly asked.
This is the power of reputation. Fuxiang was the most famous courtesan in the capital, bearing such a halo. To men who frequented the pleasure quarters, she was practically a goddess of the highest order.
Hongxiu's smile stiffened slightly, somewhat displeased.
Discussing a top courtesan from the same profession with such relish in her own courtyard made her feel disrespected.
Song Tingfeng, as if oblivious to Hongxiu's displeasure, laughed mischievously and pointed to Xu Qi'an, saying, "You should ask him."
Xu Qi'an responded indifferently, "She's alright. Among the beauties I've seen, she ranks in the top five."
As he spoke, beautiful face after beautiful face flashed through his mind: Auntie, Lingyue, Huaiqing, Lin’an, the National Teacher, Chu Caiwei…
Need he say any more?
The crowd couldn't help but glance at Xu Qi'an.
"You're quite the joker, milord, quite the joker," an official from the Transport Office laughed dryly.
"It's no joke," the usually taciturn Zhu Guangxiao spoke up to explain for his colleague. "Fuxiang is his lover."
... The official from the Transport Office almost couldn't keep his face from crinkling in, struggling to manage his expression to avoid bursting into laughter.
*Fuxiang is his lover? The most famous courtesan in the capital falling for a rough warrior like you?*
*Why not claim the princess is your lover, or that the mysterious National Teacher is your lover?*
However, bragging at a drinking party was standard practice. The official from the Transport Office, despite his disdain, maintained a cheerful facade.
*Crude men...* The disdain in the eyes of the oiran Hongxiu was no longer hidden, though she adeptly lowered her head to drink, keeping others from noticing.
She inherently disliked martial artists, who lacked tenderness and were rough in both speech and action, unlike scholars who were gentle and refined, composed poetry, and treated courtesans with courtesy.
"Who would have thought you had such a relationship with Fuxiang? May I know your esteemed name, my lord?" Hongxiu asked, half seriously and half mockingly.
The official from the Transport Office shot her a reproachful look and quickly raised his cup. "Let's drink, let's drink."
The topic was dropped, and Song Tingfeng laughed, "Ningyan, it's a good thing the boss didn't come to Yuzhou with us. He would never have agreed to our little outing to the Jiaofangsi."
Xu Qi'an replied, "This isn't pleasure-seeking; it's sightseeing. If the boss asks, that's what you tell him."
*Ningyan... that must be his courtesy name.* Hongxiu glanced at Xu Qi'an a few more times.
The tea gathering ended.
Hongxiu left early, and there was no more heard from her.
Not offering tea to a guest signified that she wasn't interested in the Nightwatchers present.
"She doesn't know what's good for her!" one of the Nightwatchers said angrily.
The official from the Transport Office felt embarrassed and quite irritated, not with the Nightwatchers but with Hongxiu.
However, the Jiaofangsi wasn't under the jurisdiction of the Transport Office. As one of the six oirans of Yuzhou's Jiaofangsi, Hongxiu didn't need to concern herself with the Transport Office's opinions.
Song Tingfeng waved it off indifferently, "No matter, let's head to the next place?"
Xu Qi'an agreed with Song's approach. Forced enjoyment is never good, and forced love is never sweet.
The group left the courtyard, with Song Tingfeng and the others heading to the riverside. Under the cover of night, they stood on the bank to relieve their bladders.
Song Tingfeng: 8\=\=D
Zhu Guangxiao: 8\=\=D
Xu Qi’an: 8\=\=\=\=D
…
Coals cracked in the warm bedroom. Hongxiu sipped on tea, relieving her of some drunkenness, and sat by the dressing table, letting the maid who had just entered massage her shoulders.
"Miss, they've left," the maid laughed softly. "To claim that Fuxiang, the most famous courtesan in the capital, is his lover, even I could tell it was just boasting."
Hongxiu curled her lips disdainfully. "Martial artists are always like that, crude and unbearable."
After a brief rest, another maid knocked on the door and said from outside, "Miss, Young Master Wei has booked the place with his classmates."
Upon hearing this, Hongxiu's face immediately brightened with joy. She cheerfully said, "Serve the young masters with wine and have them wait a moment."
She then hurriedly urged the maid, "Quickly help me change into that most beautiful gold-woven dress."
Young Master Wei was the nephew of Yuzhou's Prefect, a well-read scholar with a handsome appearance and an elegant demeanour.
After changing into a beautiful dress, putting on a jade hairpin and gold adornments, the elegantly dressed Hongxiu entered the drinking room, gracefully bowing, "Hongxiu greets the young masters."
She naturally sat beside the white-robed Young Master Wei. Young scholars passionately discussing the state of the nation and writing with fervour—this was the environment she enjoyed.
At such moments, she felt immense envy towards that unseen yet famous courtesan from the capital, Fuxiang.
How fortunate one must be to meet such a talented scholar and have poetry written about them, immortalising their name.
"A few officials from the capital were here just now, they seemed to be Nightwatchers," Hongxiu chatted about it while pouring wine for Young Master Wei, laughing, "One of them even claimed that Fuxiang, the capital's top courtesan, is his lover."
The scholars present laughed heartily, "How amusing! How could Fuxiang fall for a crude martial artist?"
"Brother Wei, you visited the capital half a month ago. Did you get to witness the charm of Fuxiang?" someone asked.
"Shamefully, I only managed to see her once despite visiting three times," the white-robed Young Master Wei said with a look of infatuation. "Her name suits her—she truly is a beauty that could bring down a nation."
One of the young masters immediately asked, "Does Fuxiang have a lover?"
Young Master Wei seemed to recall something. "When I was there, I chatted with some of the guests. They mentioned that Fuxiang no longer receives guests, despite the constant stream of people hoping to catch a glimpse of her. However, there is one person who frequently visits the Reflecting Plum Pavilion — that's the name of her residence. It’s said that this person is her lover."
The young masters were intrigued. "Is it the poet of ‘*its subtle fragrance drifts with the rising moon at dusk.*’?"
Young Master Wei sighed, "Who else could it be?"
After a pause, he looked around and said in a secretive tone, "This person's identity is quite special. This poem is widely known, yet the poet remains unknown, seldom talked about. Doesn't that seem odd to you?"
This piqued everyone's curiosity, and they began to speculate, "Is it because of a sensitive identity that cannot be revealed?"
Hongxiu's eyes sparkled as she listened. She was most curious about the identity of the poet who could transform the life of a courtesan.
After a while, Young Master Wei silenced the crowd by raising his hand. Shaking his head, he said, "Because this person is a Nightwatcher, not a scholar."
"What?!" The crowd was astonished and then suddenly understood.
No wonder the literary circles didn't publicise the poet's identity. It was mutually agreed to forget about it, because he was a Nightwatcher, not a scholar.
*Nightwatcher...* the speaker said it casually, but the listener took it to heart. Hongxiu's heart sank.
She opened her mouth and asked in a trembling voice, "What is... his name?"
Young Master Wei glanced at the beauty beside him and replied, "Xu Qi'an, courtesy name Ningyan."
*Crash...* The wine cup slipped from her hand onto the table and then fell to the floor, shattering.
Everyone turned to look at Hongxiu, whose face had turned deathly pale and eyes were vacant, like a lifeless paper flower.
In her daze, Hongxiu suddenly collapsed onto the table, sobbing bitterly. Her tears flowed like rain through plum blossoms, a storm so violent that it made her body tremble.