Chapter 12: Huanghua Lane

“Miss, you’re not a local of the capital, are you?”

Facing the old man’s skeptical gaze, Ding Baiying shook her head and asked, “Does it matter whether I’m a local or not?”

The old man smiled slightly. “Just by looking at you, it’s clear you’re not from around here. Everyone in the capital knows that the Embroidered Uniform Guard are fierce as tigers—devouring people without leaving a bone.”

His voice lowered as his cloudy little eyes darted around.

“In the past, don’t even think about paying them when you buy something. When they buy things, we have to pay them, and with a good attitude. Otherwise, if one of those officers feels you’re looking down on them, any excuse of colluding with the Jurchens is enough to throw you into their prison.”

A look of disgust flashed in Ding Baiying’s eyes. “The Embroidered Uniform Guard sure have a lot of swagger. Is it really this way under the Son of Heaven’s own feet?”

“Haha, Miss, you’re just… too naive. Even under the Son of Heaven’s feet, it only matters if the Son of Heaven knows about it.”

“If an officer says you’re colluding, then you are. After eighteen kinds of torture, even if you’re made of iron, you have to sign and admit you’re a spy sent by the Jurchens.”

The old man stopped explaining and said, “You’re a beauty and alone, so I’m willing to say a few more words. It’s best to go out less. If you must go out, avoid those wearing the Flying Fish uniforms as much as possible, or you’ll bring disaster on yourself.”

“Officers like the one who just paid for his purchase are extremely rare. In my forty-six years, I’ve only seen one who actually paid.”

A flicker of relief crossed the old man’s face. “Fortunately, those officers rarely fancy the sugar figurines I make. Miss, would you like to buy one?”

Ding Baiying absorbed the old man’s words, but her mind stirred with different thoughts.

Her senior brother, Lu Wenzhao, was a captain of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. Though she had expected something about this organization, she didn’t anticipate it to be this severe.

Most of what Lu Wenzhao spoke of were the heinous deeds of the eunuch faction led by Wei Yan, who persecuted virtuous ministers in the court.

In truth, she seldom heard from him about the suffering endured by the common folk.

At most, he’d say simply: life for the common people is hard.

According to her senior brother, as long as Wei Zhongxian was eliminated and Lord Ming was supported to rise, the world would be peaceful.

Ding Baiying herself had no particular stance; she simply couldn’t tolerate people being bullied at will. The eunuch faction and the Donglin faction were distinctions she hardly cared to make.

Today, following Wang Lu was just a task assigned by her senior brother.

Lu Wenzhao feared Wang Lu might have learned something he shouldn’t, not wanting any new troubles before the final battle.

Yet, from what the sugar figurine vendor said, Wang Lu didn’t seem like a ruthless villain.

“Give me one, then. Hmm~ which one did he buy just now?” Ding Baiying’s thoughts swirled, but she appeared calm on the surface.

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“That officer bought a tiger; there’s just one left. Would you like this one?” The old man took off a tiger-shaped sugar figurine and held it out.

Ding Baiying pulled out a piece of broken silver, took the figurine, and turned to leave.

The old man was dumbfounded, hurriedly chasing after her. “Miss, you gave me too much…”

But in the blink of an eye, Ding Baiying had vanished into the crowd.

Rubbing his eyes, the old man returned to his stall, staring at the silver and copper coins in puzzlement.

“What’s with all these strange people today?”

Wang Lu wandered along lazily, checking his WeChat step count with Ding Baiying.

As they walked, the alcohol’s effect gradually faded, and his steps steadied.

This slight intoxication put Wang Lu in a playful mood; he often paused, catching glimpses of Ding Baiying hurriedly dodging out of sight.

It gave him a mischievous thrill, like a cat playing with a mouse.

Ding Baiying was formidable—undoubtedly the top female fighter of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. Among men, she ranked in the top five.

In “Embroidered Uniform Guard II,” the undisputed top martial artist was Shen Lian, but in the first installment, there was Ding Xiu, a powerhouse who single-handedly slew over a dozen Manchu cavalry with a Miao Dao.

The director reportedly couldn’t figure out how one person could fight so many mounted soldiers, so they avoided filming the scene. Instead, they only showed the opening where Ding Xiu raised his blade to face the enemy and the ending with him lying bloodied beneath a tree.

Wang Lu’s mind wandered wildly—from Ding Baiying to Ding Xiu—and he instinctively gripped his own sword.

This improved Miao Dao was the best weapon to unleash the Xin You swordsmanship. Wang Lu had invested nearly two hundred taels of silver—his eight years’ salary—into this blade.

Thinking of Ding Xiu, a flush of heat rose through Wang Lu’s body.

One man fighting mounted cavalry.

If he could reach that level of mastery, perhaps it wasn’t impossible.

A faint smile curled Wang Lu’s lips. He bought a piece of sugar cake, tossed five copper coins on the stall, and ignored the anxious vendor, walking briskly eastward.

As they strolled, the sun dipped low, nearing dusk.

Soon, Wang Lu spotted the sign for Huanghua Lane.

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“Young master, Cui’er has been gazing out the door for ages, eagerly awaiting your arrival…”

“Sir, please come in! Our finest aged wine and fragrant teas have been warmed for you, just waiting for you to enjoy and relax…”

“Mister, you’ve finally arrived! The girls upstairs have been counting the stars and moon, waiting to entertain you. Please, come in—the place is lively inside…”

The coquettish voices spilled out across the street, reminding Wang Lu of the bustling scenes from famous villages he’d once seen online.

The entire street was draped in red decorations. Though night hadn’t yet fallen, bright red lanterns hung high.

Beneath the shining lanterns stood women powdered and rouged, ranging in age. Most of the girls soliciting customers were in their teens or twenties; the oldest were madams whose faces looked as if smeared with greasepaint.

The staff flirted shamelessly, casting aside all dignity to attract customers, while the clients looked like upright gentlemen, solemn-faced.

Groups of men often laughed among themselves, chatting about which girl was more alluring or who was a newcomer.

Wang Lu took a deep breath. Even standing outside the street, the heavy scent of rouge almost choked him.

It was his first time in such a place, and he felt a touch nervous.

Yet, to avoid arousing Lu Wenzhao’s suspicion before tomorrow night, Wang Lu had to come.

Besides that, he had another reason.

It was already the seventh year of the Tianqi era. Would Jin Yichuan or Lu Jianxing appear?

And the girl Miaotong—the cause of the brothers’ falling out and their near-death struggles—was she still around?

More importantly, if he encountered characters from the first story, how would the system react?

Jin Yichuan and Lu Jianxing hadn’t been found within the Embroidered Uniform Guard; Ding Baiying had just appeared, and Ding Xiu’s whereabouts were unknown.

There was only one person certain not to have moved.

At the Warm Fragrance Pavilion—Miaotong.