Zhu Kui was shocked, and at this moment, the old official with a face full of horizontal flesh suddenly became frightened.
"Ha ha, just kidding," Zhao Douan smiled and said:
"I just want to cause him some trouble. We can't just let last time's incident go, Lord. I too have a temperament."
His tone was casual, understated.
But Zhu Kui sensed a trace of bloodthirstiness.
No, in the corridors of power, murders are bloodless, and Zhao Douan's words carried a murderous aura.
To bring down the Zhang brothers, he needed a breakthrough.
Although Zhang Changshuo, in his view, was not smart but relatively prudent in maintaining a "gentlemanly" public image, thus his actions were cleaner.
Therefore, Zhao Douan focused on Zhang Changji who was full of flaws.
White Horse Hall wasn't an intelligence agency, but Zhu Kui, relying on his connections in the government office, managed to obtain the information on the second son of the Zhang family within a very short time.
According to the documents, after reaching adulthood, the Zhang brothers had separated and established their own families within the Capital.
It is worth mentioning that Zhang Changshuo originally had a wife, but after receiving the Empress's praise for his poetry and panegyrics, he decisively found an excuse to divorce and return to bachelorhood.
Even after being outmaneuvered by Zhao Douan, he remains undaunted, and for the sake of the Empress, has "guarded the empty chamber" alone for two years now.
"He's a ruthless man too... pity he thinks too much."
Zhao Douan muttered. Although their interaction was brief, he had realized:
Xu Zhenguan was entirely uninterested in nurturing male pets and was a workaholic.
From this perspective, her tacit acceptance of rumors involving Zhao Douan may also have been a way to use him as a shield.
Otherwise, countless ministers would have racked their brains to present men to the Empress.
Returning to the main topic.
Zhang Changji, being employed at Capital Camp, was bound by military law, moving back and forth between his residence and the military camp in a fixed daily routine.
Only at night or during his days off would he go out to mingle.
"Qinglian Small House... What place is that?"
Zhao Douan raised an eyebrow. The data showed that in the past half-year, Zhang Changji frequented this place.
Zhu Kui chuckled with a somewhat ambiguous expression:
"Lord, you maintain a clean reputation, it's normal you haven't heard this name. It is the private residence of a 'talented girl' known as Little Ya in the city. It has quite a reputation and she hosts nightly gatherings of scholars and talents."
Zhao Douan was momentarily stunned, then quickly understood.
Unlike the famous "Red Light Districts" in the Capital, where brothels cluster in the Rouge Hutong, the dynastic ambiguities of Great Yu probably had two types of operation.
One type was an industry cluster, where a large number of brothels accumulated together, mutually drawing traffic and enhancing brand value.
These included those managed by the Teaching Bureau as well as private brothels, divided into different price levels.
The other type followed an "independent IP" operational route.
Usually, some officials committed serious crimes, resulting either in execution or exile, but not to the extent of implicating their families, leaving wives and daughters to fend for themselves.
If family and relatives took them in, it was well; if not, they had no choice but to find their own way.
Because they came from good families and were well-educated, usually skilled in arts like music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, a new model evolved:
One or several women would set up private banquets in their homes and hold "literary meetings".
They spread the word through their social networks, inviting numerous men to pay for tea and music, discuss poetry, and also undertake some private social gatherings.
On the surface, everything appeared dignified, but fundamentally, it was still a flesh trade.
Imagine, an official falls from power, his former superiors, colleagues, even subordinates, learn that they can attend a "literary meeting" held by his family...
It naturally had the appeal of role-playing.
Isn't this more interesting than the Teaching Bureau?
Naturally, it progressed from novelty to familiarity, spreading through word of mouth within social circles, securing a steady client flow.
Of course, in reality, it wasn't so sordid; after the novelty wore off, most people still treated these gatherings as refined places.
Whether or not a hostess would invite a guest to stay overnight also depended on her willingness.
As most guests were somewhat distinguished, the worst being literati, the price per head was high, and the entry fees expensive.
Moreover, because of its secrecy and the natural segregation of social strata, ordinary people, even wealthy merchants, without an introduction, couldn't even find a way in.
Consequently, a chain of disdain was born:
Only country bumpkins from outside who came to the Capital were enthusiasts of frequenting brothels. The veterans of the Capital circle were all about attending private house gatherings.
After gaining power, Zhao Douan too was schooled by his rogue friends on these obscure facts, having visited twice.
Yet although the original host was tempted, due to his dedicated love for the Empress and his fear of losing favor if she found out he frequented such places during his "evaluation period," he refrained.
Thus, he had resolutely maintained his chastity for a whole year, without breaking it!
"Alright then, I'm quite the tough one..." Zhao Douan mocked himself inwardly.
He relaxed his brows and said,
"So, Zhang Changji often went to meet this Little Ya girl, huh? Tsk, a martial artist with an affinity for such a talented woman…"
Zhu Kui grunted affirmatively, saying,
"Zhang Changji's continued visits for over half a year suggest a close relationship with this Little Ya; he might share many things with her that he can't discuss with his family, perhaps confiding in an outsider."
That made sense... Zhao Douan nodded silently to himself. It seemed worth a try to dig up some information through this talented woman.
"Do you know the place?"
"Not sure, but give me two hours, and I will."
Zhao Douan nodded appreciatively, flicked his fingers on the paper, and declared,
An entire day passed without incident.
At dusk, as usual, Zhao Douan left his entourage behind, taking only Zhu Kui with him, traveling light.
They reached the outside of "Qinglian Small House."
As lanterns lit up and the night deepened, the city's lights shone brightly. Qinglian Small House nestled in an unassuming alley surrounded by ordinary residences.
Without a lead, ordinary people would never suspect the hidden world here.
Zhao Douan deliberately changed into a slightly plain long garment, masquerading as a scholar, while Zhu Kui did not wear his official attire, opting for a low profile.
"Sir, it's right inside; the faint sound coming from the music instruments is the place."
Zhu Kui halted the carriage, "Do you need me to accompany you inside?"
What for, trying to build a friendship beyond superior and subordinate? Zhao Douan retorted inwardly, his tone indifferent,
"No need, just wait outside."
He then walked alone into the alley.
Following the melodious sounds of the instruments, he arrived outside a residence with large doors adorned by two red lanterns.
Zhao Douan knocked: "Dong dong—Dong."
A code of two long and one short knock. Soon after, the courtyard door creaked open.
The young doorman sized him up, surprised to see such a handsome gentleman, and even more so, alone.
"Is this Qinglian Small House? A friend recommended it."
Zhao Douan, his expression unchanged, extended a five taels "entry fee."
Seeing his bearing, the doorman recognized his distinguished status and smiled,
"This gentleman, please come in."
Zhao Douan stepped into the courtyard and directly entered the main room.
A curtain separated the entrance, the sound of the zither flowing like water behind it, with shadows flickering on the window paper.
The banquet had already begun; around ten people, all dressed like scholars, were dining and chatting.
Behind the screen, a slender figure was reflected, likely the lady of the house playing the zither.
"This gentleman, please take a seat."
A maid approached him, then paused, her cheeks flushing red; the other guests looked up and showed a collective expression of surprise.
Such a handsome man... Does he really need to visit a brothel?
The guests' expressions shifted, a sinking feeling in their hearts:
He's a formidable rival!
At the gatherings here, whether one could be considered a guest of honor depended on the hostess's disposition. Generally, only those favored by Little Ya could stay overnight.
Just by showing his face, Zhao Douan had put significant psychological pressure on the men present.