Nightwatcher-Chapter 427: Dance

# 427. Dance

*A contract worth eight thousand taels...* Oiran Mingyan, froze, her gaze filled with mixed emotions—relief, joy, and jealousy all intertwined.

The other oirans felt the same complexity. Eight thousand taels! Enough to buy a luxurious mansion in the heart of the inner city. The Jiaofangsi was known as a place where wealth flowed like water, yet it was exceedingly rare for someone to spend eight thousand taels to redeem a courtesan.

Officials dared not do so, and wealthy merchants found it painful to part with such a sum.

But Silver Gong Xu had done it. With a casual flick of his hand, he let go of eight thousand taels of silver.

What struck the oirans most was that Lady Fuxiang was terminally ill, with little time left to live. So this eight thousand taels had not bought a woman’s freedom, but merely fulfilled her final wish.

In this world, what man would do such a thing for a woman like them?

*Silver Gong Xu is different from other men…* The oirans’ hearts softened, and they gazed in a daze at the young man in scholar’s robes.

“Xu Lang…”

Fuxiang looked at the contract on the table and smiled, tears streaming down her face.

*This was always a debt I owed you…* Xu Qi’an sat by the bed and sighed.

Fuxiang gazed at him gently, her pale cheeks tinged with red. She choked out, “You didn’t have to come. I… I don’t look my best right now.”

Xu Qi’an reached out to touch her cheek, his expression complicated.

“I have one last wish.”

Fuxiang turned her head towards the other oirans. “I wish to dance one final time for Xu Lang. Sisters, please accompany me with your music.”

The oirans nodded.

Fuxiang smiled, then turned to Xu Qi’an. “Xu Lang, please wait in the outer hall for a moment…”

After he left, Fuxiang changed into a lavish red dress embroidered with vivid plum blossoms. Mei’er combed her hair, pinning it up into an elegant chignon and adorning it with luxurious ornaments.

Her brows were shaped into delicate arcs, her lips painted a fiery red, and rouge restored colour to her pale cheeks.

Fuxiang gazed into the mirror at the peerless beauty before her and smiled.

Six years ago, a stunning young girl had entered the Jiaofangsi. As the daughter of a convicted criminal, she had fallen into the dusts of the pleasure quarters, but with a special purpose.

She had trained in music and poetry, becoming the famed oiran of the Jiaofangsi, her name spreading far and wide.

Six years had passed in the blink of an eye, and it was time to end this chapter of her life. But then, a young man had stepped into her world, a beam of light piercing through her darkened sky.

At the journey’s end, that young man had not been absent. He had come to write the final, perfect ending.

Fuxiang rose gracefully, lifted her skirt, and dashed out of the room. From the main chamber to the outer hall, she ran down the long corridor, just as if she were running through the past six years, only to find him waiting at the end.

In the hall, music swelled.

A lone dancer in red.

Light as a startled swan, graceful as a roaming dragon.

As the dance reached its end, she collapsed into Xu Qi’an’s arms.

The beauty in his embrace lifted her tear-streaked face, her voice trembling with sorrow. “Xu Lang, I must go. From now on…”

*All I have ever hoped for is to leave a mark in your heart; all I have ever feared is to be insignificant and forgotten in an instant.*

Xu Qi’an held her close and murmured, “From now on, I won’t come to the Jiaofangsi anymore.”

*Because this began with you, and it shall end with you.*

For Xu Qi’an, this too was the end of a chapter in his life’s journey.

Fuxiang smiled, radiant and beautiful as never before, her grace as delicate as a plum blossom.

A wisp of soul drifted away, floating into the distance.

In the hall, Mingyan, Xiaoya, and the other oirans wept softly, tears flowing freely.

…

The oiran Fuxiang was gone. The famed courtesan, once dazzling, had now faded away, bidding farewell to her days in the Jiaofangsi.

Yet her ending was not a tragic one. Today, Xu Qi’an had come to the Jiaofangsi, spending eight thousand taels to redeem her, freeing her from the status of a courtesan. The news spread through the Jiaofangsi in an instant.

To spend eight thousand taels to redeem a terminally ill courtesan, this was a tale even storybooks wouldn’t dare write.

Compared to Xu Qi’an’s extravagant gesture, the scholars and poets in romantic stories, who professed love by offering their hearts, seemed feeble and laughable.

For a time, the women of the Jiaofangsi could talk of nothing else but Xu Qi’an, the legendary Silver Gong of the Great Feng — former Silver Gong.

The Jiaofangsi had always been a hub for gossip. Within just two days, nearly every patron with the means to visit had heard of it.

In this era, romances between _xiucai_ and wealthy heiresses, or between gifted scholars and renowned courtesans, were the two most enduringly popular tales.

Anyone who heard of this could not help but praise Xu Qi’an’s devotion and righteousness, eagerly spreading the story far and wide.

One told ten, ten told a hundred, it spread through the streets and alleys, the merchant class, and even the bureaucracy. It became the talk of every gathering.

…

That morning, as Prime Minister Wang was having breakfast, he overheard his second son chattering endlessly about the rumour in town.

“Eight thousand taels of silver — if I had that money to invest, I could double it within a year. Brother, don’t you think Xu Qi’an is a fool? If it were to win the beauty’s heart, I could understand.

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“But she was already at death’s door. That eight thousand taels might as well have been thrown into a river.”

Noticing their father’s arrival, the second son immediately fell silent, lowering his head to drink his porridge.

The Wang family upheld strict discipline, forbidding idle chatter at meals.

Prime Minister Wang took his seat at the table, sipped his porridge, and looked at his second son. “What were you saying just now?”

The second son said hesitantly. “N-nothing…”

Prime Minister Wang waved a hand. “Go on. Hm, it concerns Xu Qi’an?”

Seeing that his father was not displeased, the second son continued, “The oiran Fuxiang of the Jiaofangsi was terminally ill, beyond saving. Xu Qi’an spent eight thousand taels to redeem her, just to fulfil her dying wish. Absolutely ridiculous.”

After his remark, he cautiously asked, “Father, what do you think?”

Prime Minister Wang did not respond. He finished his porridge in silence.

The second son, receiving no affirmation from his father, was slightly disappointed.

*Hmph, Father never speaks ill of others behind their backs, but surely he agrees with me.*

Prime Minister Wang wiped his mouth and hands with the handkerchief handed to him by a maid. Then, in an indifferent tone, he said, “If you were willing to spend eight thousand taels to redeem a dying woman, I would respect you as a true man.”

Second brother Wang was dumbfounded, struck speechless.

…

Tower of Noble Spirit.

"I never saw it coming, but he is quite the lovesick fool."

Nangong Qianrou held a teacup, smiling faintly, making it unclear whether it was mockery or praise.

"Not necessarily lovesick, but certainly sentimental," Wei Yuan commented casually as he stood on the observation platform, his wide sleeves billowing.

A few seconds later, he suddenly turned around, looking somewhat vexed. "I docked three months of his salary earlier, where did he get so much silver?"

*What were you even docking his salary for…* Nangong Qianrou gave his adoptive father a scrutinising look.

Wei Yuan sighed. "One lives in this world seeking only peace of mind."

…

Hanlin Academy.

The Hanlin bachelors sat in the lecture hall, waiting for the Grand Academician to arrive. In the meantime, they chatted among themselves.

"Silver Gong Xu is truly a man of sentiment, spending eight thousand taels to buy out Fuxiang's contract."

"She was already beyond saving, yet he was still willing to spend that much, just so she could shed her lowly status before she died."

Even though Xu Qi’an had resigned, people still habitually referred to him as Silver Gong Xu.

*Eight thousand taels? Buying out a contract?* Hearing his colleagues whispering, Xu Xinnian was utterly bewildered. What earth-shattering deed had his elder brother done this time?

And why was he, the younger brother, always the last to know whenever his brother made such waves?

Ever since his relationship with Wang Simo had deepened, he had been preoccupied with their outings and had not visited Jiaofangsi in a while, leaving him out of the loop regarding the matter of the eight-thousand-tael contract.

"But I heard many are laughing at him. How is a dying woman worth eight thousand taels! He must regret it now."

"I also heard he's doing it to build his reputation."

Some had differing opinions.

Luckily, Xu Xinnian was still too confused to react, or else these bachelors would have been scolded into doubting their own existence.

Just then, a coughing sound came from outside. The rigid and stern Grand Academician of Hanlin Academy entered the room, holding a book.

The bachelors immediately fell silent.

This Grand Academician, Ma Xiuwen, was renowned for his strict and serious demeanour. He neither formed factions nor sought favours. If one were to say that his mastery of court politics was exceptional, then the fact that he had held his place in the highly competitive court for decades was proof enough.

Yet, he had also remained a Grand Academician for decades without rising any further.

Among the officials and bachelors of Hanlin Academy, his most notable traits were his calm and detached nature, his unshakable composure.

Just like the plaque in his hall: "Only seek peace of mind."

After finishing the lecture, Ma Xiuwen swept his gaze across the hall and, for once, smiled kindly.

"A scholar does not merely read books, but seeks the principles within them. However, principles are not only found in books; they also exist outside of them. I heard you discussing Silver Gong Xu spending eight thousand taels to redeem an oiran. After all your talk, what principles have you discerned?"

What principle could there be?

"Sentiment and righteousness?"

"Seeing wealth as dirt?"

The bachelors made their guesses.

Grand Academician Ma Xiuwen shook his head with a smile, his gaze settling on Xu Xinnian. "Xinnian, what do you think?"

Xu Xinnian frowned slightly, suddenly recalling a memory from the past. Back when his elder brother had cut down his superior, he had visited him in prison. At the time, his brother had said: "I am not impulsive; I only seek peace of mind."

Thinking back now, everything his brother had done since then had been the same.

Xu Xinnian spoke solemnly, "Only seek peace of mind."

Grand Academician Ma Xiuwen scanned the room. "Remember these words. No matter how far you go in life, I hope you will all keep them in mind."

…

After work ended, Xu Xinnian returned home, still thinking about what he had heard earlier.

Upon entering the main hall, he saw his mother sitting there, staring blankly.

"Mum, where is my brother?"

Auntie ignored him.

"I'm here."

Xu Qi’an beckoned from the courtyard.

When his younger brother approached, he said in a low voice, "Don't bring up Fuxiang at home."

Xu Xinnian gave him a searching look. "Why not?"

"It's not about Fuxiang, it's about the eight thousand taels. Auntie has been muttering 'eight thousand taels, eight thousand taels' all day, like some kind of nagging old woman…"

As he spoke, Xu Qi’an pinched the bridge of his nose, looking a little tired.

*Who’s nagging old woman…?* Xu Xinnian muttered internally. Then he lifted his chin slightly and said, in a detached tone, "I only wanted to say one thing."

"What?" Xu Qi’an asked.

"Life and death are fated. Don't grieve too much," Xu Xinnian said in a comforting manner.

*If you don't know how to comfort someone, don't do it at all—this sounds like you're rubbing salt in the wound…* Xu Qi’an nodded and grunted in response.

He had already buried Fuxiang’s remains. He had specifically brought Zhong Li back and, along with Chu Caiwei, found a favourable burial site outside the capital.

By chance, he had overheard something from Chu Caiwei: ever since returning from Jianzhou, Yang Qianhuan had developed a penchant for storytelling, eagerly recounting his heroic deeds to anyone who would listen.

His junior brothers in Sitianjian played along, loudly applauding and praising him as unparalleled.

And Yang Qianhuan had been quite pleased.

But ever since news spread of Xu Qi’an’s eight-thousand-tael ransom at Jiaofangsi, Yang Qianhuan had stopped telling his stories.

Lately, people at Jiaofangsi had occasionally spotted a white-robed figure appearing nearby.

…

After dinner, Xu Qi’an knocked on his younger brother’s door. "The imperial diary of the previous emperor that you’ve been remembering, write it down for me."

Xu Xinnian had just taken his calming tonic and was preparing to rest. He pushed his brother away. "Let me remember more first."

"No. If you write too much at once, you'll end up omitting details you think are unimportant. When I read Yuanjing's records last time, I noticed you had this problem," Xu Qi’an said, displeased.

"What’s wrong with that?" Xu Xinnian didn't see the issue.

"Whether something is important or not is for me to decide, not you," Xu Qi’an walked over to the desk, spreading out ink and paper. "Hurry up, big brother will grind ink for you personally."

Xu Xinnian had no choice but to sit at the desk, pick up his brush, and start writing. Over the past few days, he had read many records of the late emperor's daily life and had memorised them all.

If he waited a few more days to write, he would indeed delete parts he deemed insignificant. Otherwise, the workload would be too great.

But writing it now meant he could transcribe everything exactly as he had remembered.

Half an hour later, Xu Xinnian put down his brush, shook his hand lightly, and pushed a over dozen sheets of paper towards his brother. "Done."