Auntie Xue of the Red Matchmaker Society was a coquettish woman.
No matter who it was, the first glance at Auntie Xue would make them think she was a coquettish woman.
Including herself.
Her deanor differed from the madams of Rouge Alley. The madams had to display feminine charm, poise like an immortal, and carnal desire in front of their guests.
Auntie Xue, on the other hand, unleashed her full arsenal the mont she crossed the threshold of a bride's or groom's ho. Her words flowed while her body employed every sort of body language to draw close to everyone present, paving the way for matchmaking and proposals.
Matchmaking was the sa.
It was a skilled trade, and coquettishness was the simplest, most convenient thod.
Her coquettishness ran bone-deep, disliked by no woman and adored by every man. She commanded the scene at all tis, drawing everyone's attention to herself—listening to her words, following her gestures, or her swaying hips and open collar.
Her little gestures were plentiful, making everyone feel she hadn't overlooked them.
This was a skill honed through experience.
When Chen Shi committed the cri in Rouge Alley and greatly enraged the Young Master, Auntie Xue was the busiest among them.
She excelled at connecting different factions, so she dashed about: contacting Godhand Du, the head of Pleasure Grove; visiting Manager Qiu at Phoenix Cry Pavilion; rushing to Luban Sect in hopes of seeing Situ Wen—only to learn he was out seeking vengeance on Chen Shi.
But fortunately, when she went to Prince Zheng's residence, she ran into Situ Wen.
By the ti she erged from Prince Zheng's residence, night had fallen, and she hadn't even eaten yet before hurrying straight to Rouge Alley.
Rouge Alley was at its most bustling when she arrived.
Though the madams and old procuresses of Rouge Alley had died, a few experts who had ford inner cores remained within. Her purpose this trip was to rally those Rouge Alley experts to head to Xinduo together and avenge the head madam!
Eight-faced and adept, she integrated the various factions, arranging to rendezvous at Fragrant Mountain Pavilion outside Bath City tomorrow before proceeding as one to Qianyang Mountain in Xinduo.
Auntie Xue led these few won from Rouge Alley swiftly toward Yixiu Garden, laughing as she walked. "Manling, Chuchu, Lizhen—no need to worry over the head madam.
With Auntie here, I'll see justice done for you! We'll go to Xinduo and threaten him with the lives of his villagers—Chen Shi will surely show himself."
Behind her, the three Rouge Alley won were dressed gorgeously, made up alluringly. The leader, Manling, said, "We'll follow Auntie's lead."
Yixiu Garden was the incense hall of the Red Matchmaker Society, quite a distance from Rouge Alley. Along the way, they saw
fewer and fewer pedestrians.
Rouge Alley was a den of all-night revelry where gold flowed like water, but folk elsewhere had long since gone to bed—after all, they had work co morning.
The watchman's clappers sounded: it was midnight, the hour of the rat.
A canal ran through Bath City, spanned at the center by a bridge called Waking Lion Bridge, nad for the ninety-nine stone lions large and small atop it.
The bridge stretched nearly twenty zhang long and over three zhang wide, with five arches through which ships often passed—typically ore boats and passenger ships from upstream at Mount Henggong.
As the four passed Waking Lion Bridge, Auntie Xue, the leader, felt famished. Suddenly, she caught a whiff of noodle aroma. Following the scent, she saw a noodle stall still open under the dim yellow lamplight at the bridgehead.
A lantern hung over the stall, but it didn't illuminate much.
The stall owners were an elderly couple: the man kneading and pulling dough, the woman stirring noodle soup amid rising steam.
Beside them sat prepared dough covered with cheesecloth to proof.
Two custors sat at the stall. One slurped noodles noisily—probably too hot—hissing as he blew on them.
The other wore a conical hat and waited idly, idly rubbing two chopsticks together with one hand, making a rasping sound—clearly growing impatient.
A black dog lay beside the stall, pitch-dark all over. No telling if it belonged to the owners; its head half-turned, tucked into its own belly, utterly listless.
Midnight bridge-crossers were often those heading east to the pleasure districts, starved after half the night of carousing. They'd grab a bowl of noodles here to warm their stomachs before heading ho to rest.
It was just past midnight now, early in the night's second half, so the stall wasn't crowded yet.
In another hour, the flower-wine drinkers heading back would arrive, and business would pick up.
Auntie Xue had been busy all day and was hungry too, so she walked over with a smile. "You girls hungry? I'm starving."
Manling smiled. "I'm a bit hungry too."
Auntie Xue sat near the light and said, "Old man, four bowls of noodles.
Make 'em quick!"
"Right away!"
The stall owner called back. "You've got one ahead of you—ready any second!"
Auntie Xue paid it no mind and glanced at the conical-hat custor, only to see he'd sohow acquired an extra pair of chopsticks in hand, now rubbing four together with a scraping noise.
Auntie Xue paused, eyes narrowing. She looked again at the other custor, head down over his noodles—but a pattering ca from underfoot.
Looking down, she saw the noodles he ate leaking straight from his belly.
The sight sent a chill creeping up her spine, her hairs standing on end.
"Ghosts?"
Auntie Xue's heart jolted. She hurriedly eyed the stall owner kneading dough: stiff features, twisted smile—clearly a puppet, painted with human face and expression!
She whipped her gaze to the woman stall owner: another puppet!
Luban Sect's puppetry! Situ the Carpenter's puppets—why here?
Auntie Xue knew danger was upon her and moved to act when suddenly the custor at the other table—still seeming seated—explosively drove with his thighs, feet shifting, his form ghost-fast as he circled the noodle stall table!
His gait was utterly bizarre: one leg half-crouched, the other half-kneeling, scooting along the ground like a waddling duck—yet ferociously swift and agile. In a blink, he circled their table once.
Auntie Xue stayed cool amid peril. Sensing killing intent, she flipped her hand up to block, channeling her cultivation!
"Rip!"
Her palm stung as a chopstick pierced straight through, nearly spearing her brow!
Imnse force hurled her body backward. Auntie Xue kept her seated posture as she smashed through Waking Lion Bridge's railing, angling down toward the water!
The instant she left the bridge deck, her legs extended. By full extension, she landed on the water surface.
The chopstick's vast force bore down, shoving her body sliding backward along the canal. Water split with splashes; snow-white waves flew up on either side, spraying into the air.
Her face darkened. From the power in that single chopstick alone, she knew Manling, Chuchu, and the others were dead.
Their cultivation was re Golden Core Realm. Even she—a perfected Nascent Soul—couldn't fully block that chopstick; it pierced her palm and nearly her skull. Manling and the rest stood no chance!
As she slid backward, she unleashed Seven Turns Seven Changes Heavenly Dance Art.
A Divine Shrine and Divine Embryo manifested behind her head. Her Nascent Soul danced upon the Divine Embryo's palm while divine power surged around her, conjuring seven heavenly maidens in nine-colored robes, winged backs with trailing sleeves—adept at dance, their postures graceful and ethereal, no mortal bearing, as if goddesses descended from the heavens.
Yet even their fluttering sleeves concealed imnse power.
As sleeves danced, great waves surged: water level spiking or plunging to expose the riverbed!
She didn't know why Luban Sect ambushed her here, but hands were thrown—fight with all she had, cause be damned!
As she powered her Seven Turns Seven Changes Heavenly Dance Art, the conical-hat custor whistled down from the bridge, skimming the water in pursuit, blindingly fast.
The conical-hat custor channeled his technique, and a golden core rose like a bright moon from the river, illuminating both canal banks.
Auntie Xue's heart skipped—a familiar sensation.
Golden core moon hangs at bridgehead.
Seven maidens flew from the moon, soaring through the air, sleeves wafting like immortals descending to the mortal dust, every gesture evoking ascension!
Seven Turns Seven Changes Heavenly Dance Art!
Auntie Xue reeled in shock, thrown into disarray. The foe wielded her Seven Turns Seven Changes Heavenly Dance Art!
This was the technique the Young Master had passed to her!
As a matchmaker, she'd helped one of the Young Master's friends in the western capital seduce a noblewoman into dual cultivation—a great service to him.
The Young Master admired her and thus taught her this art.
Seven Turns Seven Changes Heavenly Dance Art allowed one spirit to divide: at peak mastery, vital blood overflowed and fused with divine sense, forming seven heavenly maidens outside the body into a Heavenly Dance Grand Array—adept at overcoming the strong with the weak!
When the Young Master passed it to her, he said though incomplete, it was one of the world's rare profound arts, little inferior to the ancestral secrets of the thirteen great houses.
Moreover, he'd attempted to complete it—imperfect though it was, no true Heavenly Dance Art survived in the world, so hers was the true inheritance!
Now, seeing the foe wield Heavenly Dance Art, Auntie Xue panicked. Her own paled in comparison!
Her vital-blood maidens seed like harlots plucked from Rouge Alley; the foe's were true celestial beauties descended from the heavens!
In a blink, they clashed head-on.
On the river under moonlight, immortal auras swirled as maidens arrayed, nine-colored robes dazzling the eyes, sleeves weaving through. Though a formation of slaughter, it brimd with beauty.
The canal rose and fell with the Heavenly Dance Art.
Rising, the surface swelled over ten zhang above the bed—should it crash down, riverside hos would shatter and flood!
Falling, it exposed dozens of zhang of riverbed, sunken ships,
and floundering fish helpless on the dry bottom.
One could imagine the ferocity of their spells!
But this clash ca quick and ended quicker!
Auntie Xue sensed the foe's cultivation mighty and techniques far superior, yet his magic power fell short of hers. Poised to leverage her superiority and summon her Nascent Soul to slay him, she saw the foe's seven maidens rge into one, pointing from midair straight at her brow!
She unleashed her Nascent Soul to et the strike.
The maiden shattered into five against her Nascent Soul. Auntie Xue's heart leaped. "Even if your technique outshines mine, what of it with inferior cultivation?"
But as the maiden dispersed, her Nascent Soul t the conical-hat custor's palm.
His right hand pinched: middle and ring fingers on the base of the thumb, pinky and index extended—like the North Pole Great Emperor descending, mudra invoking all the world's yang thunder, concealed in his palm!
Her foot-tall Nascent Soul smashed into his Five Thunders thod!
The strike unleashed Heaven, Earth, Water, Dragon, and Altar Earth—five yang thunders exploding in a chain, booming thunderously!
Auntie Xue's Nascent Soul lost all its robes, body holed and half-destroyed. She spat a mouthful of fresh blood, aura wilting.
The conical-hat custor thrust a finger; a water sword flew from the river with his force, piercing Auntie Xue's forehead!
The water sword flew over a hundred zhang before scattering.
On the river, the ten-plus-zhang swell lost control, poised to drown the banks—when the conical-hat custor ford sword fingers, tapping repeatedly to draw void talismans. Golden Water-Calming Talismans blazed forth, hanging over the surface. The waters fell at once, the river mirroring smooth as glass.
Upstream and downstream, the canal lay utterly still, ripples gone. Fish tossed up and down now found the sudden calm unaccustod, bewildered and uneasy.
The river's sole motion was Auntie Xue's sinking corpse.
Even falling into the water, it raised no splash. Under the Water-Calming Talismans, it slowly subrged and vanished.
By now, the conical-hat custor had strolled back onto Waking Lion Bridge. The noodle stall owner had fished up his noodles; the woman just set the bowl down.
The custor sat, drew chopsticks from the holder, and slurped the steaming noodles—savory and satisfying.
The other puppet custor dragged Manling and the two won's corpses, dumping them off the bridge. Then he fetched a bucket, washing bloodstains from the deck.
Another bowl finished; the puppet stall owner carried it to the dog in the shadows.
"Don't set it there—put it on the ground. Blackie Pot won't eat."
The custor removed his hat, revealing Chen Shi's face. "Clan Leader Situ, set the bowl on the table.
And add more at—Blackie Pot loves at; he barely touches the noodles."
The puppet stall owner said in surprise, "This mutt's picky."
The dog in the shadows glanced at him, but the puppet felt no effect—after all, its true body was elsewhere, hard to influence remotely.
Still, the puppet followed the custor's words, setting the bowl on the table and adding a few taels of beef, pained. "These few taels of beef could sell a hundred bowls of ran!"
"Enough, enough—it's not like we're not paying."
Chen Shi said, "Eat up quick—we head to Pleasure Grove once we're full!"
They finished quickly and rose, descending the bridge.
More puppets arrived, scrubbing the deck spotless, leaving no trace.
Sated, Chen Shi felt warmth suffuse his body. He followed the puppet north to Pleasure Grove: lights ablaze, revelry unending. Many scholars stood within, three or five per step, divine intent glowing behind their heads to brighten the place like daylight.
These scholars, neatly attired, were local literati—hired muscle summoned by Godhand Du of Pleasure Grove.
Pai gow, dice, mahjong, leaf cards: these gambling gas bustled most.
Each table had a banker. So had six arms, bare-chested, shaking dice cups with clatters amid gamblers' fevered shouts, the vibe manic.
Chen Shi peered closely: the banker humanoid in form, but its soul was a green grasshopper-headed thing—long antennae atop its head, two or three heads taller than a man, grasshopper compound eyes, garish human clothes on its body, six grasshopper limbs flipping nimbly, deft beyond asure.
His heart jolted. "Who says Godhand Du must be human? Maybe he's not. What might his Solitary Illumination Divine Transformation Art look like?"
Happy Mid-Autumn Festival!
End of chapter.
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