Chapter 032: Is There a Cat? (Second Update, Please Recommend!)

At this moment, the commotion at the Zheng family’s door had already attracted the attention of the neighboring households. All they saw was a noisy crowd gathered together, with members of both the Zheng and Yang families, yet none could tell what exactly had happened. Only after Zheng Jujue’s loud declaration did they realize the Yang family had come to the Zhengs to poach their guests, and the crowd instantly burst into an uproar.

Doing business means everyone wants more patrons, but there must be a limit—even in commerce, soliciting guests at another’s doorstep is intolerable. Zheng Jujue deliberately raised her voice so all could hear and place Yang Miaor in a disadvantageous position. Her plan worked; those assembled began to chatter and scold Yang Miaor for her excessive behavior, accusing her of breaking the unspoken rules of their trade.

Assailed by criticism, Yang Miaor grew more flustered, her usual sharp tongue failing her, leaving her only able to weep. Zheng Jujue, seizing the moment, spoke with eloquence, embellishing the story for the onlookers and reciting the poem word by word for everyone to hear. This was a golden chance for her to make a name for herself—how could she possibly let it slip away?

Hearing the poem recited in Zheng Jujue’s own voice, and seeing her bare, unadorned yet handsome face, it was clear the lines were written to praise her beauty, whether in full makeup or none at all. Yang Miaor, overwhelmed by shame and anger, sobbed so hard she could barely breathe and nearly fainted.

Just then, Yang Laier arrived and loudly retorted, “Sister Zheng, how can you say my sister stole your guest? Yes, Li Lang did leave from our house and come to yours, but did he ever say he would stay the night with you?”

Zheng Jujue hesitated, her momentum faltering.

Yang Laier, not giving her a chance to respond, pressed on, “It’s common for guests to be curious and visit several establishments in one night. Besides, from what you just said, Li Lang didn’t come to your house for you—he was looking for Zhang Wan. But Li Lang made an appointment with my sister beforehand; he promised to spend the night drinking and chatting with her until dawn. He even competed with Wang Thirteen in a game of pitch-pot for this opportunity, scoring an impressive 180 points and forcing Wang Thirteen to admit defeat in public. These are not fabrications—everyone who dined at our place witnessed it, and Wei Third is right here. If you don’t believe me, ask him. If I so much as utter a falsehood, may my face be marred by morning.”

Even among the famed courtesans of the Tang, appearance was not their only asset, but to be disfigured was a most venomous curse. Such an oath made Zheng Jujue uneasy, but to admit defeat and let Li Zaixing go to the Yangs—she could not bear it. Her eyes flickered, and she smiled, “It’s true, Li Lang didn’t originally come for me, but he did compose a poem in my honor, praising my natural beauty. That is indisputable. Li Lang is here—why not ask him yourself? If he came just to find fault with Zhang Wan, why come to my house at all? He refused to speak with Miaor at yours, but hurried to mine instead—perhaps he is disappointed in your sister.”

With that, she chuckled, rested her hand on Yang Miaor’s shoulder, lifted the girl’s chin, and said gently, “Miaor, you’re still young and don’t understand a man’s heart. Li Lang is a true hero, not like ordinary men. He’s not fond of girls like you; he prefers women like me—naturally beautiful, with or without makeup. If you blame me, you blame the wrong person.”

Yang Miaor shot her a glare, smacked away her hand, lifted her face, and fixed her gaze on Li Zaixing. She said loudly, “Li Lang, is what she says true? Do you like her and not me? If that’s so, I’ll go home right now and not make a fool of myself here. But if not, at least say a fair word for me—I can’t be humiliated without cause.”

Li Zaixing gave a wry smile. After all this bickering, the women finally left him a chance to speak. He thought, Good heavens, this quarrel is worse than my master’s Buddhist chants—my brain feels scrambled to bits. The ancients called it right: three women make a drama, two women are a thousand ducks, and now I’m surrounded by tens of thousands of ducks.

He truly didn’t care much for the slightly spoiled Yang Miaor, but at this moment, he didn’t have the heart to speak ill of her. As for Zheng Jujue’s forceful manner, he didn’t much like that either. He glanced at the crowd and smacked his lips before saying, “It’s not that I dislike the young lady—she’s simply too young, and I’d hate to pluck a flower before its time.”

Li Zaixing’s words were half-truth. He didn’t like Yang Miaor, but his reason was sincere. In his eyes, Yang Miaor was still a budding girl—the age of a middle schooler in his previous life. To woo such a girl, much less take her to bed, was the act of a depraved headmaster, not something he could do. Even if he liked her, it would be impossible. If he had to choose someone, he’d prefer a mature woman like Zheng Jujue, or even Yang Miaor’s elder sister, Yang Laier—anyone but Yang Miaor.

Yet that was only his perspective. To Yang Miaor, his explanation seemed a feeble excuse. In Tang times, girls married young—many at twelve or thirteen. Courtesans began receiving guests at that age, and it was common for a woman not to be a virgin at fifteen. If she hadn’t, it was only because she hadn’t found someone suitable; otherwise, she wouldn’t have kept her innocence until now.

Still, Li Zaixing’s words spared her dignity, and the tenderness in his tone even made her a little proud.

“Li Lang, I’m fifteen this year—not so young anymore.” She glanced at Zheng Jujue, then said with a pointed edge, “If I’d met the right person, I’d have become a woman, just like Sister Zheng. Meeting you today is my fate. Even if you didn’t score a perfect hundred, I’m already satisfied. If you’re willing, I’m also… also…”

Her voice grew softer and softer, trailing off, her shy sweetness stirring many hearts. Wei Yingwu, vexed, beat his chest in regret. Had he not dragged Li Zaixing out, things wouldn’t have escalated, forcing Yang Miaor to confess her feelings in public.

To be a courtesan was to lose one’s innocence eventually, even if Tang courtesans had more choice in the matter. That day would come. Men, for their part, always harbored a fascination with virgins. They might not care how many men a courtesan had entertained, but her first night was always special. In three years, Yang Miaor had kept her virginity, not for lack of offers, but because the Yang family’s reputation and standards afforded her greater choice. That was her greatest asset; to best the Zhengs today, she was willing to offer her precious first night to Li Zaixing. Wei Yingwu, also one of her admirers, was heartbroken at the thought.

Indeed, after Yang Miaor spoke, Zheng Jujue’s confidence faltered. She knew well the allure of a famed courtesan’s first night in the eyes of men. Her own circumstances were inferior to the Yang sisters—without such a trump card, her chances of winning this contest were slim.

Her only remaining hope was that Li Zaixing truly liked her more than Yang Miaor. Unlikely as it was, she clung to that hope, the only thing left to save her pride. If she lost today, she’d never be able to face the Yang sisters again.

She lifted her head, eyes full of supplication, unblinking as she gazed at Li Zaixing.

Yang Miaor, eyes brimming with tears and barely able to withstand her own shyness, refused to yield, looking at him with pitiful resolve.

Yang Laier sighed inwardly.

The spectators held their breath, waiting for Li Zaixing’s final answer. Though the outcome had little to do with them, this was a rare drama between the two most powerful houses in Zhongli—a spectacle too good to miss.

By now, not only was the alley before the Zhengs’ door packed with onlookers, even the walls were crowded with climbers, all eyes fixed on Li Zaixing. Though the crowd was vast, silence reigned. All awaited his decision: would victory go to Zheng Jujue, beautiful with or without makeup, or to Yang Miaor, offering her maidenhood?

Li Zaixing was speechless. What kind of mess was this? He’d come to fight, but with Zhang Wan’s leader Xie Dalan nowhere to be seen, he was now surrounded by women, forced to choose one to spend the night with. He hadn’t planned on breaking his vow of chastity, nor did he intend to sleep with an underage girl.

But how to say so?

“Miaor, little lady, fifteen is just the start of womanhood—hardly old,” he said.

“But not so young, either,” Yang Miaor retorted, cheeks aflame. She glanced at Zheng Jujue’s well-developed chest beneath her fitted dress, then arched her own budding figure, tugging her skirt higher to make her chest appear fuller. Tang women favored skirts tied at the chest, baring a broad expanse above. Ordinary women did so, courtesans even more so—and Yang Miaor was no exception. They all knew how to maximize their allure.

Li Zaixing could only give a helpless smile, unsure where to rest his gaze. He racked his brain for a way out. The silence was so complete, he could hear his own heartbeat—he almost forgot he was ringed by a throng of women and felt instead as if he stood alone in a vast field. He even heard the distant chirp of insects and the flap of startled night birds.

From afar came the cry of a cat: “Meow—”

Lost in tense thought, Li Zaixing blurted out, “Is there a cat?”

To him, it was a thoughtless aside, but for Zheng Jujue and Yang Miaor, it was a crucial question, one that could decide victory or defeat for their families. Hearing this, Zheng Jujue, whose hopes had all but vanished, suddenly regained some confidence. She glanced at Yang Miaor’s just-budding chest and, deliberately or not, arched her own fuller bosom higher, nearly brushing Li Zaixing’s arm.

Faced with this provocation, Yang Miaor’s face turned crimson, burning with embarrassment and shame, her heart pounding like a drum. Tongue-tied, she struggled for words before stammering, “A few… just a few…”

Please, dear reader, don’t let your recommendations be as scarce as those few…