FRGNM -Chapter 38 The Top Courtesan

Could it be… that man intends to come back with bloodshed?

Shivering all over, Nangong Qin dropped his brush onto the memorial scroll. He stood up in shock, his murky eyes staring at Nangong Mo. “What did you say? The Young Lord of Qiongyu has come here? Could it be that he really intends to massacre our Beining Kingdom? Six years… he has finally arrived!”

“Your Majesty, please hear me out,” Ye Ningfeng said, bowing slightly. “Your Majesty, I do not think so. Back then, the Young Lord was angry because of Ling Ruoxi. Now that she has received the invitation to return, I believe the Young Lord has come for her.”

“For her? That very ugly woman, Ling Ruoxi? I don’t even know what the Empress was thinking, letting Mo marry that woman!” Nangong Qin’s anger flared. That shameless woman had stolen another man and even carried his child—now even the Young Lord of Qiongyu is distracted by her?

Nangong Mo’s expression darkened. He shook his head. “Father, Ruoxi is not ugly. She just… suddenly looked that way. Besides—”

“You are defending her? Mo, you are about to be married. How can Hui Ru compare to her? She has kept herself pure for you all these years. Do you intend to betray her?” Nangong Qin’s face darkened. Compared to Ling Ruoxi, he preferred the sweet-talking Ling Hui Ru.

Nangong Mo only sneered. Pure as jade? If that were true, why did that woman climb into his bed while he was drunk? Even if his drunkenness were to blame, for all these years, she has been seducing him—climbing into his bed. How should that be explained?

If it weren’t for the excuse of seeing Ruoxi, he wouldn’t have married such a woman! He could break off the engagement whenever he wanted—no one could stop him.

“Your Majesty, now that the Young Lord has arrived in the capital, shouldn’t we go to receive him?” Ye Ningfeng looked at the father and son with a bitter smile. Foolish emperor… if he knew who the Empress truly was, and who the Crown Prince was, he wouldn’t be speaking so recklessly.

He had been stationed here for years, simply to protect Nangong Mo. Given the strength of Beining Kingdom, did they really need a Dou Qi Master like him?

“Receive him? No. If he’s here for Ling Ruoxi’s wedding, we will pretend ignorance. We will not go. That’s final!” Nangong Qin’s heart still trembled at the thought of that terrifying strength. In any case, they must not provoke such a man.

Nangong Mo frowned, voice cold: “I am merely reporting the news, and the decision is yours. Moreover, the Grand Prince of Dongling Kingdom, Huangfu Xuan, has already arrived at the embassy. Should Your Majesty receive him?”

“No. The Young Lord could be mingling among them. No, we will not meet anyone for now. Mo, you leave the palace first, accompany the Dongling Prince around the capital. During the wedding, I will see no outsiders!” Nangong Qin’s voice was stern. To be safe, no one from other nations was allowed inside. All well-wishers were to remain at the embassy.

This was the first time in history that a country refused foreign dignitaries entry to the palace. Other nations may have complained, but it passed without consequence.

“Is this the top courtesan?” Yizhui asked, listening to the music and watching the figure dancing behind the curtain. Her graceful movements swayed with the pipa’s melody, a truly mesmerizing performance. Yet Yizhui could not muster any interest.

He chewed on the chicken leg before him, glancing curiously at Luo Mingyu.

The pristine-looking man leaned against a chair, removing his conical hat in this private space. His narrow phoenix-like eyes slanted, the corners of his mouth lifted, and he watched the dancer outside with obvious enchantment.

Truly, this music seems fit for heaven, rarely heard in the mortal world.

“Uncle, do you like courtesans?” Yizhui blinked, bored, and asked.

The man in the chair shook his head with a smile. “Not really. But her music is beautiful—and so is she.”

“Beautiful? That’s beautiful?” Yizhui scoffed. “Mommy’s music and dance are way better. Watch me!”

He jumped down, little oily hands scraping over the tablecloth, leaping out like a monkey.

Luo Mingyu quickly put on his hat and followed Yizhui. The mischievous child pulled down the curtain ahead, causing the dancer to tremble and stumble to the ground.

Her ordinary looks and timid eyes—she was no top courtesan.

The audience froze, about to scold Yizhui. But seeing the scene, they were angered.

“Madam, Yuan Yuan! Who is this woman?”

“Please calm yourselves, gentlemen. Yuan Yuan is injured today, so a girl is dancing in her place. Calm yourselves,” the plump madam smiled awkwardly. She had been counting silver in the back, never expecting this disruption.

Yizhui stared at the maid, pointing: “Her dance isn’t pretty, and her singing is awful! Mine is way better!”

“You, you—you’re speaking nonsense!” The madam flustered, assuming the child meant to ruin the performance. She clapped her hands, shouting, “Someone, take this brat away!”

“Wait, Madam. He is but a child. His words are careless—why argue with him?” A graceful figure slowly stepped down. Every woman in the mansion froze. Even wearing a conical hat, his elegance and confidence were undeniable. His voice was entrancing alone.

Even the little maid on the floor blushed, secretly glancing at the man.

“Uncle, tell me—was she good? Did she dance well?” Yizhui crossed his arms, snapped his fingers, and shouted, “Watch me! Music, play!”

Luo Mingyu was used to the child’s random antics.

The small figure on stage barely moved, only tapping his right foot and snapping fingers, nodding to himself, lost in his own rhythm. There was a hint of madness in the performance.

Luo Mingyu smiled. What a livewire he had found. If the child wanted to dance, he would watch and see what kind of moves emerged.

A stream of English words poured from Yizhui’s mouth as he performed a street dance. Though the moves weren’t perfect, the rhythm, the lyrics, and his energy stunned everyone. The moonwalk alone dropped everyone’s jaws; the hip and rear moves nearly made the crowd faint.

If a woman danced like this, all men present would surely lose their minds.

Luo Mingyu was amazed. Though he could not understand the lyrics, he watched the child dance, unfazed, intrigued by the strange, shocking style.

After the final move, Yizhui, drenched in sweat, sniffed disdainfully, raising an eyebrow at the dancer on the ground. “See? This is dance. I could do this at three years old. What you just did? Terrible.”

“Hehe, what an interesting child,” a gentle voice came from upstairs. A violet-clad woman walked slowly forward, every gesture delicate, even more charming than the sugar figurine she resembled. Her smile alone made goosebumps rise.

Yizhui, sweating from excitement, felt nervous seeing her and asked, “Who are you?”

“I am Yuan Yuan.” She smiled softly, eyes on Luo Mingyu, politely greeting him. “You are no ordinary man. Why are you here?”

Luo Mingyu recognized her question but smiled faintly, saying nothing.

Yizhui wiped sweat from his forehead. “I don’t care if you’re round, chubby, skinny, or short—I’m Yizhui, Mommy’s son!”

“Hehe, little brother, you’re amusing. That dance earlier was fine, but I didn’t understand the lyrics,” Yuan Yuan said disdainfully. “I apologize, everyone. I was unwell, so the maid danced for me. Now, I will dance properly for you all.”

Bowing slightly, Yuan Yuan took the stage, slowly removing her shawl from her shoulders to reveal snow-white skin. A strong fragrance filled the air. She wore a simple strapless top, revealing her flat stomach and stunning curves.

The men in the audience stood, excitement written on their faces, wishing they could devour her entirely.

Yizhui snorted, unimpressed, moving to Luo Mingyu. “Uncle, let’s go. This courtesan isn’t even pretty. My sugar figurine tastes better.”

“Since Yizhui is done, let’s return,” Luo Mingyu smiled faintly, reaching to carry the child.

But the woman’s expression darkened. As the music continued, she shamelessly pressed against Luo Mingyu, her serpentine body swaying, pressing her chest toward his, lips slightly parted, eyes alluring, hands grazing his chest.

“Miss, I heard you sell art, not your body. Now you are seducing me?” Luo Mingyu smiled faintly, making no move, letting her writhe in front of him, ignoring her entirely.

Her face darkened. She hadn’t expected him to speak this way. Looking at the men around her, eager to pin her down, she only smiled softly. “Judging by your appearance, sir, this is your first time at the Hundred Flowers Mansion. This is how we welcome guests—we invite you to dance. Sir, don’t misunderstand.”