Chapter 28: The Gathering Storm

Seeing that Yi An remained silent, Master Chen grew anxious. He took another step back and said, “Nephew, why not meet my wayward son for a moment? Whether this works out or not is entirely up to you.”

Yi An had considered many things just now. He did not believe for a moment that Chen Qingwen truly valued his poetry and wished to meet him for that reason alone; there must be something else at play. Especially since the other party was entangled with the Drunken Blossom Pavilion, he could not help but weigh his options carefully.

“Very well, I suppose I might as well give it a try,” Yi An finally replied with a reluctant nod.

A look of joy spread across Master Chen’s face. He immediately ordered the servants, “Prepare the luncheon at once! Today, I shall drink heartily with my dear nephew.”

Soon enough, the luncheon was ready. Seated with Yi An were Master Chen and his wife, Madam Chen Yang.

She was the first to exchange pleasantries, uttering the usual compliments—how meeting in person surpassed mere reputation, that Yi An was indeed the famed prodigy of all Hangzhou, that her husband had spoken of him often, and so forth. Yi An was caught off guard; was she speaking of him? He had not realized he was held in such high esteem…

Then Madam Chen Yang asked if he was married, and Yi An felt his head ache, quickly succumbing under the barrage of questions. Only when Master Chen intervened did she finally relent.

Master Chen chuckled and said, “Nephew, forgive my wife. She is ever the gracious host and adores promising young gentlemen like yourself.”

Yi An forced a laugh. “It’s no trouble. Aunt is a woman of true character.”

After the meal, Yi An waited for nearly another hour before Chen Qingwen finally appeared—a young man who seemed listless, his eyes dull, approaching slowly.

Master Chen, seeing his son return, hurried over to introduce them. “Qingwen, come quickly. This is Young Master Yi you’ve been clamoring to meet.”

Sure enough, at the mention of Yi An’s name, a spark of life returned to Chen Qingwen’s eyes.

He asked eagerly, “So you’re Young Master Yi? It’s true that meeting you in person surpasses your reputation. May I have a private word with you?”

“Haha, then I’ll leave you young men to it,” Master Chen said, delighted to see his son so transformed, convinced more than ever that he had invited the right person.

“Are you aware that your days are numbered?” Yi An fixed his gaze on him.

Even from several yards away, the stench of demonic energy was unmistakable. There was no need to ask where it came from.

Moreover, Chen Qingwen’s listlessness might pass to ordinary eyes as mere exhaustion, but Yi An instantly recognized it as the result of drained essence and spirit.

Chen Qingwen regarded Yi An in surprise, but quickly regained his composure and replied calmly, “I know.”

Yi An was taken aback by his answer. The man spoke as if discussing something utterly commonplace; there was no trace of fear for his own life.

“So you’re well aware—not some poor soul kept in the dark,” Yi An said seriously.

“Knowing or not knowing, what difference does it make? We are meant to live as we please. Ours is true love—no one and nothing can separate us.” Chen Qingwen evidently realized Yi An had seen through him, so he spoke plainly.

“There’s nothing wrong with being true to yourself, but have you considered your parents? Where do they fit into all this?” Yi An shook his head. If not for Master Chen’s request, he would not have bothered with such a mess.

Chen Qingwen, spellbound by a demon’s charm, would be nearly impossible to persuade.

Besides, Yi An’s own foundation was still shallow, and he knew nothing of the demon’s origins or power; acting rashly could put even himself at risk.

A demon capable of assuming human form was at least equal in strength to himself.

Chen Qingwen felt a heaviness in his chest, a stifling guilt towards his parents. Yet he could not cut off this relationship.

“Let me tell you a story,” he said.

“Once, there was a scholar, much like any other, deaf to the world’s clamor, intent solely on his books and the teachings of the sages.”

“No one knew that this was not what he truly wanted. But each time he saw the hopeful gaze of his father, he told himself to grit his teeth and press on.”

“No one ever understood him; he buried everything deep within his heart. Until one day, he met a woman.”

“It was as if fate had destined their meeting. The moment he saw her, her image became etched into his soul—he lost all appetite, all desire for rest.”

“Later, perhaps by the grace of heaven, he met her again. But by then, things had changed; she was now a courtesan at the Drunken Blossom Pavilion. The world seemed to collapse around him.”

“Yet he could not forget her. From that day, he frequented the pavilion more and more, those days becoming the happiest of his life.”

“She was gentle and lovely, with a mind as pure as orchids. Whenever he was troubled, it seemed she could hear the very voice of his heart. She was the first—and only—person who truly understood him.”

“I don’t care what others think. I simply cannot live without her.”

“Tell me, is it better to live a living death, or to follow one’s heart?”

Chen Qingwen finished his story in a few moments.

But to Yi An, these words meant something quite different.

The reason Chen Qingwen found himself lovesick and unable to eat or sleep was nothing more than a demon’s enchantment.

As for what followed, it was even easier to explain. Chen Qingwen was but a mere mortal, no match for a demon’s tricks.

When Chen Qingwen finished, Yi An finally spoke. “If I’m not mistaken, your invitation to advise you on poetry was just a pretense. The real reason is to do a favor for your beloved, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. Someone at the Drunken Blossom Pavilion wishes to meet you. I merely used my name as an excuse,” Chen Qingwen replied with a nod.

He had prepared excuses, but plans could not keep up with the changing situation. Since Yi An had seen through him, there was no point in hiding it any longer.

“Very well, I’ll go with you,” Yi An said after a moment’s thought. This time, he did not refuse. If trouble was inevitable, he might as well see for himself what secrets the Drunken Blossom Pavilion held.

“Brother Yi, you are forthright!” Chen Qingwen exclaimed.

After bidding farewell to Master Chen, Yi An left the manor with Chen Qingwen. In the time it took to drink a cup of tea, they arrived at the Drunken Blossom Pavilion.

It stood in the most prosperous part of Hangzhou. If Yi An did not believe the place held considerable influence before, he certainly did now. To run a brothel here was proof enough of the Drunken Blossom Pavilion’s power—no wonder Master Chen had looked so uneasy earlier.