Brawls in taverns are a common sight.
Hearing the commotion, many patrons chuckled.
"Now that's youth—still having the energy to fight. At our age, we can't even throw a punch," one remarked. "Such spirited vigor." "Young friendships are forged through scuffles." "No discord, no concord."
Someone nearby quickly added, "But it's not a fight between lads—it's a girl beating up a boy."
The laughter faltered at this. Clearly, it must be a matter of the heart.
That in itself wasn't unusual—what young master isn't prone to flirtation? But for a girl to behave this way was simply improper.
"Truly, the world is going to the dogs," some elderly patrons shook their heads. "Nowadays, girls roam everywhere, showing their faces in public, entering taverns and teahouses as they please."
"Perhaps she's a courtesan," someone suggested. "If she is, that's even worse! Affections should stay within the pleasure house. How dare she cause a scene outside? She has no professional integrity!"
But then came new information: "It's not a romantic quarrel—it's between siblings. A sister beating her brother."
"That makes it even more disgraceful!" the elderly patrons fumed, slamming their hands on the table in anger. "No respect for elders, no reverence, no loyalty, no filial piety!"
Not everyone was shocked. When the first sounds of the fight broke out, Deng Yi was conversing with an elderly man. He merely paused briefly before continuing their discussion. Only when the old man couldn't resist joining the gossip did Deng Yi quietly excuse himself. Weaving through the chattering, gawking crowd, he found the tavern manager and settled the bill at the counter.
"Who would have thought siblings would fight in public?" the accountant couldn't help peering toward the commotion.
Deng Yi leaned against the counter, jingling his coin purse. "There must be a good reason for it."
The accountant looked at him and laughed. "Sir, you don't seem the least bit surprised."
Deng Yi smiled faintly. "Seen it a few times before. Nothing new."
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"This is absolutely no surprise at all!"
Up on the third floor, the young ladies were equally exasperated and resentful.
Initially excited by the commotion and the prospect of witnessing a fight, their enthusiasm vanished when maids came running back with news: "It's Chu Zhao! Chu Zhao is beating up her brother!" This was nothing new to them.
"She's addicted to violence! She'll hit anyone she comes across!"
"No wonder she says she won't play with us—as if we'd want to associate with her anyway!"
Fuming with indignation, Qi Leyun was particularly incensed. Glaring at the figure obscured by the corridor pillar across the way, she complained, "Her fighting here is ruining Young Master Xie the Third's elegant mood. How utterly detestable!"
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The figure behind the pillar remained perfectly still. Those around him murmured inquiries, then apologized: "We chose this refined place for its ambiance, never expecting the Elegant Fun House to become so rowdy. We've disturbed your peace."
"Not at all," Young Master Xie the Third replied, his voice laced with amusement. "When the heart is distant, the place becomes remote. When the mind is calm, there is tranquility."
The young men seated around him laughed in agreement, clapping lightly. They then turned their full attention to the poetry and paintings on the table, completely ignoring the uproar around them.
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While some on the higher floors remained unperturbed, so did others on the ground floor.
Patrons who chose the first floor typically enjoyed livelier atmospheres, as it was closest to the storytelling and opera performances. They'd picked their seats precisely for the excitement.
When the fight broke out, the first-floor customers—initially disappointed by the lack of entertainment—flocked to the central hall to get a better view of the second-floor spectacle, cheering and jeering as they watched.The finely dressed young men on the first floor were at the age where they loved watching commotions the most, yet they didn't go to see this one.
Because just as they were about to, their companion scoffed at them.
"A woman beating a man—what's there to see?" He leaned against the railing, holding a wine pot. "It won't be an exciting fight. No matter who wins, it's ridiculous. If you want to watch a fight, it should be a lively one—like the Southern Army against the Northern Army, or Captain Qi against Captain Jia—"
That made sense. If a man could be beaten by a woman, he must be frail and weak; if a man hit a woman, it wouldn't be something to boast about either.
The young men burst into laughter.
"You, just back and already egging the two leaders to fight?"
"Watch out or they'll beat you up first."
"Yan Lai, I heard you often fight with your nephew too. Next time, call us to watch."
Amidst their banter, the young men ignored the commotion on the second floor, continuing with their dice games and rowdy cheers, accompanied by the clamor of the building.
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The Elegant Fun House couldn't possibly let the siblings fight endlessly. The shop assistants, along with several women, intervened—pleading and pulling—until they separated the two.
Chu Ke was a far cry from the dashing, triumphant youth he had been earlier. He sat slumped on the floor, his clothes and hair disheveled, his face bruised and swollen, with a nosebleed streaming down.
He wiped it with his hand, and upon seeing the blood on his knuckles, was so enraged, pained, and grief-stricken he nearly fainted. "Chu Zhao, you've gone mad!"
Chu Zhao only had her hair slightly mussed. She tucked the stray strands back into place and stood over him, looking down coldly. "What did I tell you before? If you dare speak ill of my father or show him disrespect again, I'll beat you to death!"
Chu Ke kicked the table, making a loud banging noise, overwhelmed with indignation and sorrow. "Was I speaking ill? I was stating facts!" He pointed around at the onlookers. "Ask anyone here—was anything I said wrong?"
Chu Zhao glanced around. Among the young people present, some were fearful, but most wore expressions of disdain, and a few even sneered coldly.
"Miss Chu," one young man leaning against the railing spoke up. He had remained seated throughout the fight, shouting and enjoying the spectacle, and now wore a faint, mocking smile. "You might not want to hear this, but some things happened as they did. We outsiders can choose not to speak of them, but as family, Young Master A Ke can't help but feel upset when he remembers, and he just needs to vent. You can hit outsiders—like my sister—but shouldn't you spare your own family? After all, when your father caused his relatives heartache back then, they didn't lay a hand on him, did they?"
Sister—this must be the Liang family young master A Le mentioned. Look at how he's fanning the flames. Chu Ke must be out of his mind, still associating with the Liang family. In her previous life, it was probably this Liang young master who incited him to go elsewhere and die as a fool.
Chu Zhao looked at him and asked, "Who are you in the Liang family?"
The young man smiled. "I am Liang Qiang. Just like Young Master Chu Ke and Miss Chu Zhao, I call Liang Qin my cousin."
Having introduced himself, he noticed the girl—who either genuinely didn't know him or was pretending not to—slightly change expression, her gaze fixed intently on him.
"You are Liang Qiang?" Chu Zhao asked. "Is Minister Liang your uncle? Is your father Liang Ji?"
She actually knew his father's name?
Liang Qiang was somewhat surprised and replied, "That's right, it's me. It's no surprise you don't recognize me, Miss Chu. My father was a scholar who achieved neither fame nor success, and our family has been a burden to the Liang clan and my uncle."Chu Zhao ignored the veiled sarcasm in his words, her expression somewhat complicated. Truth be told, she genuinely envied Minister Liang. In that lifetime, when Minister Liang lost power and left the capital in disgrace, chaos engulfed the land. His brother, Liang Ji, abandoned scholarly pursuits to join the military, and Liang Ji’s sons fought with exceptional bravery.
One named Liang Qiang lost an arm yet continued wielding his blade single-handedly on the battlefield. Xiao Xun praised him highly in court, bestowing official titles and nobility upon the Liang family.
The second branch of the Liang family carved a path through bloodshed, reviving their house from the brink of collapse—
So this was the one-armed Liang Qiang. Chu Zhao studied him carefully for a moment before shifting her gaze back to Chu Ke, her anger intensifying.
"What excuses do you have left?" she snapped. "Did my father not support you? Chu Ke, when you were young, he urged you to train in martial arts, but you cried and refused, afraid of hardship and exhaustion. Later, he sent you to the military camp in the Border Commandery. What did you do? Within three months, you were wailing to return to the capital, saying you’d rather live in obscurity than risk your life for glory. You feared hardship, exhaustion, and death—how can you blame my father for not supporting you?"
Hearing her dredge up the past and noticing the curious, astonished stares around him, Chu Ke flushed with shame and anger. "I—I was frail as a child! Not everyone is suited for martial training! And when I went to the Border Commandery, I was still young. Uncle not only made me a low-ranking soldier but even sent me to fight against the Xiliang soldiers. How was that support? It was a death sentence!"
He had gone to the Border Commandery expecting to rely on Chu Ling as his backer. As an educated man, he assumed he would at least be given an officer’s rank. Who would have thought he’d end up as a common soldier, beaten and drilled daily? In all his years, his own parents had never laid a hand on him!
Chu Zhao sneered. "You were young? Young Master Liang Qiang is even younger than you. He wasn’t afraid of hardship—off his horse, he could wield a brush; on horseback, he could swing a blade and shoot arrows. Ask him if he has suffered any less than you!"
Regardless of how flushed and furious Chu Ke became, Liang Qiang, who had been listening nearby, stiffened slightly and unconsciously straightened his posture as he looked at the girl.
To think she would praise him so highly!
So this girl was one of his admirers.
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