“OIYE GARDEN?” said Xie Jinglan. “Isn’t that the outlaw organization the government has been hunting in the jianghu? I heard that the imperial guards recently captured several of their assassins.”
Dai Shengyan shook his head and smiled. “Those were just small fry who caused trouble by using Qiye Garden’s name. True assassins of the Garden hide among common folk and even within the court and palace. They’re not so easy to catch. The Embroidered Uniform Guard needed to give a satisfactory report, so they went along with the charade.”
The confidence with which Dai Shengyan spoke led Xie Jinglan to a realization. “Sir, have you met a Qiye Garden assassin before?”
Dai Shengyan’s gaze wandered into the distance and out at the tiered buildings beyond the window. “I have. It was twelve years ago.”
Twelve years earlier, Dai Shengyan had been appointed as the magistrate of Jiangzhou Prefecture. Upon taking office, he followed protocol and visited the local prince living there. That particular prince was infamous for debauchery. At the time, the standards for people’s character and integrity were even harsher than today. Stories of loyal sons, virtuous grandsons, child prodigies, and virtuosos abounded, and news of remarkable figures popped up steadily in even the remotest villages.
However, the prince in question had earned a reputation for overindulging in food, drink, and entertainment. He managed to stand out among numerous renowned scholars and talents, which was no easy feat.
His hedonism reached the point of absurdity; even his residence was a den of drunkenness and lust, with spittoons shaped like the mouths of beautiful women. The people took to calling him the “Prince of Joy,” gradually forgetting his official title.
Dai Shengyan had navigated bureaucracy for many years and weathered his share of storms, yet the Prince of Joy’s extravagance still left him thunderstruck.
What shocked him wasn’t the prince’s decadence but his enormous girth. The Prince of Joy was like a small mountain of flesh. Approaching to offer him a toast, Dai Shengyan instinctively maintained a three-step distance. He’d feared that the prince might lose his balance and make Dai Shengyan the laughingstock of the nation—the new appointee crushed to death on his first day in office.
After three rounds of drinks, the Prince of Joy spoke first. “Magistrate Dai, I hear you have been widowed for years. You must not have found a suitable companion yet. My residence is full of beauties of all shapes and sizes. If you like any of them, feel free to take her with you. Consider it a small token of my goodwill.”
Dai Shengyan replied, “Although my late wife died young, I think of her constantly, and I carry her mementos with me always. I appreciate Your Highness’s kindness, but I have no intention of remarrying. I hope you understand.”
The Prince of Joy clearly didn’t believe Dai Shengyan. “There’s no one else here,” he whispered. “No need for such reservations. Your wife passed away so early, you probably never truly got to experience the pleasures of women.”
The prince smiled cryptically, and his two meaty cheeks rose, squeezing his already beady eyes into slits. Dai Shengyan’s heart skipped a beat; he sensed that something unpleasant was about to happen.
Music began to play, and two rows of songstresses entered, each holding an iron pipa and dressed only in thin gauze. The pipas just barely allowed them modesty, exposing a hint of their tender breasts. Gentle candlelight spilled over their skin, imparting it with the lustrous glow of mutton-fat jade.
The songstresses began to dance, their graceful movements accompanied by the ethereal music flowing from their almost translucent fingers. These women had been raised in the prince’s residence and trained by experts; every smile and gesture exuded just the right charm.
Dai Shengyan almost wanted to gouge out his own eyes.
He’d grown weary of the court’s intrigues and requested a post outside the capital. Everyone had thought he was out of his mind to give up the capital’s luxuries for the bamboo-filled backwater of Jiangzhou. But Dai Shengyan was a man who took pride in his integrity, and he’d laughed at them, deriding their shallowness. Hoping for a quiet, peaceful life, he’d packed his belongings and rushed to Jiangzhou.
He’d never imagined that the Prince of Joy would make him regret his decision almost immediately. He yearned to run right back to the capital and continue his daily spats with the old geezers there.
Covering his eyes, he said miserably, “Your Highness may not know this, but I am over the age of forty, and my health is not what it used to be. I can no longer…perform in bed.”
He had no choice but to resort to that excuse to protect his reputation, hoping that the prince would let him off the hook.
The Prince of Joy widened his eyes in understanding, his expression a mixture of pity and regret. “How could this be? I had no idea. I’ve offended you, Magistrate. Please don’t hold it against me. Leave, all of you! Quickly! Don’t linger in the magistrate’s sight!”
Dai Shengyan breathed a sigh of relief and clasped his hands, preparing to leave. But then the prince continued, “Even if you can’t enjoy the company of beauties, there are other ways to indulge yourself.”
“...This humble official will decline. Cultivating one’s character is its own reward.”
The Prince of Joy, assuming Dai Shengyan was still putting on airs and refusing to show his true self, clapped his hands. “Fetch my fragrant wine!”
A servant brought out a jug of the beverage, and the prince personally poured Dai Shengyan a cup. As the stopper was removed, a rich aroma filled the room. The scent alone was enough to intoxicate Dai Shengyan.
Unable to resist, Dai Shengyan picked up the cup. “Truly excellent wine,” he sighed. “What is it called?”
“This wine is called ‘Fragrant to the Bone,’” the prince said with a proud smile. “Do you know how I vinted such a fine wine?”
“I dare not presume, Your Highness.”
“Most wines are made in the spring; I make mine in winter. The cold prevents fermentation, so I have women warm the wine with their bodies. The choice of a woman is crucial—she must be a stunning beauty, aged seventeen or eighteen. She sleeps with the wine jar every night; that’s the key to its richness and fragrance. Magistrate, why not assess it carefully to see whether the scent of the maiden’s body lingers?”
Dai Shengyan was dumbfounded. Reaching his limit, he declared, “Your Highness’s generosity is too much for me to bear. I feel unwell and cannot stay any longer. Farewell!”
“Hey! Why are you leaving so suddenly?”
Dai Shengyan stood to depart. As he rose, he thought he saw a faint figure in the curtains. From that fleeting glimpse, he couldn’t make out many details, but the figure’s cold gaze made a deep impression on him. Startled, he looked again, but nobody was there.
The Prince of Joy’s noisy voice again rang out: “Magistrate Dai, I still have many treasures to show you. It’s no fun enjoying them alone. The former magistrate, Mo Zhinian, was as dull as a block of wood. Why are you too so blind to the beauty of finer things?”
“Many treasures”?! At those words, fear raced through Dai Shengyan, and he hurried to leave. The Prince of Joy chased him, panting heavily. Despite his immense size, he was surprisingly swift, moving with small, quick steps. Dai Shengyan pulled up his robes and ran, terrified of being caught.
A procession of servants pursued them, shouting, “Your Highness, slow down!”
The night was dark, with only flickering lanterns to light the way. A servant at the end of the procession was about to shout as well when he felt a tap on his back. He turned in confusion, only for a light to flash and a bloody gash to open on his throat. The lantern in his hand fell to the ground, and the candle rolled out, igniting a small patch of flames.
As the servants ahead heard the noise and turned around, a shadow swiftly passed them. In an instant, all were silenced. The servant in front continued his chase, but still he was unable to catch up. He held his side and panted heavily until he suddenly realized that the people behind him had disappeared.
“Huh? Where did everyone go?” His surroundings were silent and dark; the only light came from his lantern. He leaned against the cold brick wall, unease creeping into his heart, and took a few steps back.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He looked down to see a bloodstained blade protruding from it.
A few hundred steps ahead, the Prince of Joy wiped sweat from his forehead and cursed Dai Shengyan. “You ungrateful man!”
“Your Highness, why must you be so unrelenting?” Dai Shengyan retorted. “I’ll submit my resignation tomorrow and return home to become a farmer. Isn’t that enough?”
“You…! You…! I prepare a grand feast, and you show no appreciation! What have you reduced my hospitality to?”
“I didn’t reduce it to anything! Just keep it away from me!”
The Prince of Joy was seeing red. He took several deep breaths to calm himself. “Fine, fine. I won’t waste my time with a fool like you.” He turned to the servant who’d caught up to them. “You. Come help me back to the palace. Ugh…I’m exhausted.”
The servant stood unmoving in the shadows by the wall.
The Prince of Joy was furious. “Are you deaf? Come here and help me!”
The servant chuckled softly. A cold gleam flashed as they pulled something from their waistband. Dai Shengyan and the prince instinctively shielded their eyes with their hands.
What was that? It was so bright. Could it be...?
Dai Shengyan suddenly realized that it was a blade. The servant had drawn a saber!
This was no member of the prince’s household—this was an assassin!