The room was warm, filled with the scent of cheap oil lamps and expensive sin. Liu Zihe, the Magistrate's son, lay on the narrow bamboo bed, his silk robes in disarray, watching Little Cabbage with the sated, heavy-lidded gaze of a predator who has finished his meal.
She sat on the edge of the bed, her back to him, combing out her long, dark hair. The tension in her shoulders was palpable. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the wind outside made her flinch.
"Relax, my beauty," Zihe purred, reaching out to stroke her arm. "The Dwarf is at the tofu shop. He grinds beans until dawn. We have hours."
Little Cabbage shuddered. She didn't turn around. "You should go," she whispered. "He... he has been suspicious lately. He comes home at odd hours."
"Let him come," Zihe laughed, arrogance thickening his voice. "I am Liu Zihe. My father is the law in this county. What can a tofu maker do? Throw a bean at me?"
He pulled her down onto the bed, ignoring her stiffness. He kissed her neck, tasting the salt of her fear. "Besides," he murmured, "I have paid the toll. Third Girl is downstairs, guarding the gate like a dragon. No one passes without her warning."
Downstairs, Third Girl was indeed guarding the gate, but her vigilance had been bought cheaply. She was sitting on the floor, happily counting the five silver dollars Zihe had given her, arranging them in stacks like little towers.
Suddenly, a sound shattered the quiet night.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Someone was pounding on the front door. Not a polite knock, but a furious, demanding hammering.
"Open up!" a rough voice shouted. "Open the door!"
Upstairs, the blood drained from Zihe's face. He scrambled off the bed, tripping over his own sash.
"It's him," Little Cabbage hissed, her eyes wide with terror. "It's Pinlian."
Zihe looked around the room frantically. There was no back exit. The window was too high. He was trapped.
"Hide!" Little Cabbage commanded, pushing him toward the corner. "Under the bed? No, too obvious. The wardrobe?"
"I... I..." Zihe stammered, his bravado evaporating like mist. He was no longer the Golden Prince; he was a terrified boy caught stealing sweets.
"Third Girl's room!" Little Cabbage whispered urgently. "Go downstairs! Hide in her bed! He won't look there!"
Zihe nodded, grabbing his clothes. He scurried out of the room and down the stairs, his bare feet silent on the wood.
Downstairs, Third Girl was frozen, clutching her coins. The pounding on the door was getting louder.
Zihe burst into the room, half-naked and sweating. He grabbed Third Girl by the shoulders.
"Listen to me!" he hissed. "Hide me! In your bed! If you tell him I'm here, I'll... I'll take the money back!"
Third Girl blinked. The threat to her treasure penetrated her fog. She pointed to her messy, straw-filled pallet in the corner.
"Sleep," she grunted.
Zihe dove into the pile of rags, pulling a dusty quilt over his head just as the front door burst open.
Ge Pinlian stormed in, his face twisted with rage. He looked around the empty main room. He looked at Third Girl, who was sitting on the floor, innocent as a lamb.
"Where is he?" Pinlian roared.
"Who?" Third Girl asked, drooling slightly.
"The man! I heard voices!"
"No man," Third Girl said, shaking her head. "Just Sister talking to the cat."
Pinlian snarled and stomped up the stairs.
Zihe lay under the quilt, holding his breath. He could hear Pinlian's heavy footsteps above his head. He could hear shouting. He prayed to every god he didn't believe in.
Upstairs, Pinlian burst into the bedroom. He found Little Cabbage sitting on the bed, her face pale but composed. The room smelled of musk and sweat—the unmistakable scent of intimacy.
"Who was here?" Pinlian demanded, tearing the curtains open. He looked under the bed. He opened the wardrobe.
"No one," Little Cabbage said quietly. "I was asleep. You are imagining things."
Pinlian turned on her. "I smell him! I smell the silk and the wine! You are a whore!"
He raised his hand to strike her, but stopped. Something in her eyes—a cold, dead defiance—made him pause. He realized with a sinking heart that violence would not solve this. He had lost her. Not to another man's love, but to another man's power.
He lowered his hand. "I will find him," he muttered. "And when I do..."
He stormed out of the room and went back downstairs.
Zihe heard him coming. He shrank deeper into the straw.
Pinlian walked past Third Girl's bed. He stopped. He looked at the lump under the quilt.
Zihe's heart stopped.
"Lazy girl," Pinlian grumbled. "Sleeping while your brother works."
He kicked the bedframe, but he didn't pull back the quilt. He walked out the front door, slamming it behind him, heading back to the tofu shop to drown his sorrows in work.
Silence returned to the house.
Slowly, Zihe emerged from the rags. He was covered in dust and straw. He looked ridiculous.
Third Girl giggled. "Funny bird in the nest."
Zihe ignored her. He dressed hurriedly, throwing another ten dollars at her. "Silence," he commanded. "Absolute silence."
He fled the house, running through the dark alleys back to the Hall of Loving Benevolence.
When he burst into the pharmacy, Baosheng was waiting. The apothecary took one look at the disheveled, terrified prince and poured a strong cup of wine.
"It went wrong," Baosheng guessed.
"He came back," Zihe gasped, collapsing onto a chair. "The Dwarf came back. I had to hide in the idiot's bed. It was... humiliating."
Baosheng frowned. "Pinlian never comes home at this hour. Someone must have told him."
"Who?"
"Enemies," Baosheng said darkly. "You have many, Young Master. But we have a bigger problem. Pinlian is suspicious now. He will watch her. He will guard the door."
Zihe slammed his cup down. "I don't care! I want her! I cannot end it like this—hiding in straw like a rat!"
"Patience," Baosheng soothed. "We need a new plan. A way to remove the obstacle permanently."
The next morning, Baosheng went to Peace Alley to scout the territory.
He found the house quiet. Pinlian was gone. Little Cabbage was sitting in the courtyard, stitching furiously. Third Girl was playing in the dirt.
Baosheng approached Third Girl first.
"Little Sister," he wheedled, offering a sugared plum. "Did your brother say anything last night? Did he mention... names?"
Third Girl snatched the plum. "Brother was mad. Brother shouted. But Brother is stupid. He didn't see the bird in the nest."
She giggled, pointing to her bed.
Baosheng smiled. The secret was safe, for now.
He walked over to Little Cabbage. She didn't look up.
"Sister-in-law," Baosheng said softly. "The Young Master is distraught. He wishes to apologize for the... interruption."
Little Cabbage stabbed her needle into the cloth. "Tell him to stay away. My husband knows. He smells the money. He smells the lies. If he catches Zihe, he will kill him. Or worse, he will go to the Magistrate."
"He won't," Baosheng said confidently. "Pinlian is a coward. He loves money more than honor. We just need to... adjust the price."
"Get out," Little Cabbage hissed. "You are poison, Qian Baosheng. You ruined me."
Baosheng's face hardened. "I saved you. I gave you gold when you had nothing. Do not bite the hand that feeds you, Cabbage. Without us, you are just a tofu maker's wife waiting to starve."
He turned and left. But as he walked away, he noticed something.
Across the alley, in the shadows of the tea house, a figure was watching. A man in a wide-brimmed straw hat.
Liu Zihan.
Baosheng's blood ran cold. The thief was still there. And if Zihan knew about last night's near-miss, the price of his silence was about to skyrocket.
That evening, Zihan visited the pharmacy. He didn't knock; he just walked in the back door.
"Dangerous games," Zihan said, leaning against the counter. "Playing hide-and-seek with a husband."
"What do you want?" Baosheng snapped.
"I want to help," Zihan said, smiling. "You have a problem. The husband is in the way. The wife is scared. The Young Master is impatient."
He pulled a folded piece of paper from his sleeve. The love letter.
"This is the key," Zihan whispered. "Pinlian hates Yang Naiwu. He thinks the Scholar is the one cuckolding him. If we use this letter... we can direct his anger away from Zihe and toward Yang."
Baosheng stared at him. "You want to frame Yang Naiwu?"
"Why not?" Zihan shrugged. "The Scholar is arrogant. He deserves to fall. And if Pinlian thinks his wife is sleeping with Yang, he will be watching the front door for a scholar... while the Magistrate's son slips in the back."
It was diabolical. It was brilliant.
"How much?" Baosheng asked.
"Two hundred," Zihan said. "And a promise."
"What promise?"
"When the Scholar falls," Zihan said, his eyes glittering with malice, "I want to be the one who pushes him."
Baosheng nodded. He went upstairs to tell Zihe the new plan.
The game had changed. It was no longer just about seduction. It was about destruction. And an innocent man—Yang Naiwu—was about to become the target of a conspiracy born of lust and greed.
To see how the frame-up begins, read the next chapter.