The Ming Dynasty 1626 Enlightenment

Chapter 56 Nothing to do tonight, let's listen to music in the brothel!

As dusk settles, the streets of Linqing take on a new look.

During the day, the neatly arranged shops would put away their boards, and a row of bamboo sheds would be set up along the street.

One oil lamp after another was lit, and the orange light came out from under the cloth shed, falling on the bluestone road and being trampled into dappled shadows by the footsteps of passersby.

The cries of vendors selling sugar figurines, wontons, cosmetics, and hair oil formed a dense net, covering the entire street.

Zhu Ming walked among the crowd, his moon-white robe gleaming softly under the lamplight.

He held a string of candied hawthorns in his hand, took a bite, and squinted his eyes because of the sourness. He held it in his mouth for a while before slowly chewing and swallowing it.

Crunchy and crunchy, with fifty times the sugar content of sucrose!

As he turned into a side alley, someone brushed past him from the side, and then he suddenly felt a light touch on his waist.

Zhu Ming glanced down at his empty waist and caught a glimpse of a small, thin figure shrinking into the crowd beside him.

He should have shouted "Stop thief!"

But Zhu Ming didn't. While chewing on his candied hawthorn, he gestured to the two people not far away not to make any rash moves, then turned around and followed them.

After passing through two alleys, the streetlights gradually thinned out, and the crowds thinned out.

The man was a thin, short man in his early teens, dressed in a gray-brown short-sleeved shirt. He moved like an eel, dodging and weaving through the crowd.

Zhu Ming followed at a leisurely pace, his steps slow, but his direction remained correct.

The man turned into a dark alley, squatted down with his back against a wall, and, using the sliver of light shining from afar, eagerly opened the purse.

He reached inside and pulled out a few banknotes!

His face immediately fell.

"Damn it, he's quite generous at the teahouse, I thought he was a rich guy!" the thief muttered under his breath. "It's the new Ming Dynasty banknotes again!"

"Bah! The new Ming Dynasty paper money? Even a dog wouldn't want it!"

The skinny man was about to throw away his purse and banknotes when Zhu Ming appeared behind him and snatched his possessions back.

"oh!"

The voice came from behind the thief.

His hand trembled suddenly, and he looked up to see a young man in a moon-white robe standing behind him, looking at him unhurriedly.

There was no anger on his face; in fact, there was a hint of leisurely interest.

"You...you..." the skinny man stammered, standing up abruptly. "When did you get here?"

"It all started when you touched my purse," Zhu Ming said slowly. "You're saying even a dog wouldn't want this precious paper? Why?"

"These colorful scraps of paper might be worth ten strings of cash today, but who knows how many coins they'll be worth tomorrow?" the skinny man said, looking at him. "Silver is much more practical!"

"Who told you that?" Zhu Ming's eyebrows twitched slightly, not because of the words themselves, but because he had seen similar words in memorials.

During the period when the new Ming Dynasty paper money was being implemented, he had seen many such admonitory remarks from civil and military officials in his memorials.

But coming from the mouth of such a down-to-earth thief, who is particularly sensitive to money, it has a completely different flavor.

Someone is spreading these negative messages, and they've even reached the lowest levels of society.

"Of course it was said by the big shot at the Red Bean Pavilion!" the thief replied confidently.

"Red Bean Pavilion?"

"You don't even know Red Bean Restaurant?" The thief paused, looked him up and down, and then suddenly seemed to understand something. "Oh, judging from your accent, you're from the capital, no wonder you don't know it!"

"That's right!" Zhu Ming nodded.

"Give me ten taels of silver, and I'll take you there!" The thief's eyes darted around, a cunning glint flashing in his pupils. "If we go now, we can still hear some great programs!"

"I only have the new Ming Dynasty banknotes!" Zhu Ming carefully folded the banknotes and put them back in his purse. "Would you mind taking me to the Red Bean Pavilion?"

"Red Bean Pavilion, that's a special place!" Jin Yidao had arrived nearby at some point. Upon hearing the words "Red Bean Pavilion," his expression changed, and he whispered closer, "Young Master, that's a brothel."

"Yes, yes, yes, he can't go because of his status as young master!" Shen Yan also arrived, his face tense.

"This young master is a spoiled brat," Zhu Ming said, glancing at their tense expressions. He quickly guessed what kind of place it was. "How can he be a spoiled brat if he doesn't go to places like that?"

"Young Master?" Shen Yan wanted to try to persuade him.

"Alright, do you have any money?" Zhu Ming interrupted him, turning to Jin Yidao.

"No more! Only the new Ming Dynasty banknotes! They're very convenient to carry!" Jin Yidao shrugged, his expression unchanged. "Doesn't this guy know? Anyway, he stole the young master's things."

He rubbed his hands together, glanced at the skinny guy, and said, "Why not just beat him up?"

"..." The thief's face turned pale instantly.

He glanced at Zhu Ming, then at Jin Yidao's arms, which were thicker than his own thighs, and quickly waved his hands. "Sir, I was blind today. I'll take you there for free as an apology."

"Alright! Lead the way!" Zhu Ming said, not annoyed.

The group followed the thief all the way to the south bank of Linqing.

The streets on the south bank are narrower than those on the north bank, but the shops are more densely packed.

Teahouses, taverns, storytelling venues, and opium dens stood side by side, their lanterns above the doors larger and brighter than those on the north bank. The crimson light reflected on the faces of passersby, casting an ambiguous hue over everyone's expressions.

The thief stopped in front of a two-story wooden building with a sign that read "Red Bean Pavilion" hanging at the entrance. The lights inside were brighter than those in the surrounding shops, and the faint sounds of voices drifted out, mixed with the sounds of erhu and clappers.

"Right here," the thief grinned, "the real nightlife of Linqing."

"Thanks!" Zhu Ming nodded, then turned to Shen Yan and said, "This young man is not bad. Old Shen, take him to the government office and have them take good care of him."

"Yes, young master!"

"I...you son of a bitch!" Upon hearing this, the thief immediately realized what was happening and ran away.

Shen Yan stepped in front of him, grabbed him by the back of his collar, and lifted him up like a cat.

The skinny man kicked his legs a few times in mid-air, cursing under his breath, as Shen Yan carried him toward the alley entrance.

"Xiao Dao, let's go," Zhu Ming said to Jin Yidao, seeing that things were almost settled. "Nothing planned for tonight, let's go to the brothel and listen to some music!"

Zhu Ming stepped into the threshold of the Red Bean Pavilion. The courtyard was spacious, with more than a dozen square tables set up, separated by silk screens.

The hall was more than half full, with middle-aged men dressed as wealthy merchants in fine clothes and young men wearing jade ornaments and crowns.

In front of the pavilion was a low platform with a table, a chair, and a gavel. It was the same storyteller from Tingyu Pavilion during the day. He had changed from his gray cloth long gown into a dark blue silk robe, with a jade belt around his waist. He looked much more presentable than during the day.

Behind him hung a paper screen with four characters written on it: "Appreciated by both the refined and the common."

Zhu Ming sat down at an empty table in the corner.

The storyteller on stage was engrossed in his tale, striking the gavel with a resounding thud.

He spoke twice as fast as during the day, his voice carrying a deliberately affected intonation, with long, drawn-out notes accentuated by the clapperboard.

"Then the senior brother, on the upper floor of the room, unleashed the Seven Injury Fist! This fist technique was incredibly powerful, each strike carrying a sharp, piercing force, attempting to quickly defeat He Jinyin!"

Zhu Ming paused for a moment while holding the teacup.

Seven Injury Fist?

He put down his teacup and suddenly remembered that these were some martial arts stories that he had asked the Tianqi Daily to publish, originally intended to add some local flavor to the newspaper so that people wouldn't feel that the pages were full of court politics.

At this moment, what came out of the storyteller's mouth was actually a few stories about Nuerha and martial arts novels, which were turned into the script for the storytelling.

This person is quite talented.

"However, He Jinyin showed no fear and skillfully countered with the Great Shift of the Universe. Once the Great Shift of the Universe was used, the room was filled with countless figures. He Jinyin's movements were like ghosts, making it difficult for the senior brother to discern his true form and accurately launch his attack!"

Many people in the hall cheered.

The storyteller leaned forward, lowering his voice by half an octave, with a subtle nuance only a fellow storyteller could grasp: "In an instant, the eldest brother, unable to contain his anxiety, resorted to possession techniques in an attempt to turn the tide of the battle."

The gavel struck, and the entire hall fell silent.

"The senior disciple let out a soft gasp and collapsed into He Jin Yin's arms!"

Jin Ping Mei

Zhu Ming spat out a mouthful of salted soda.