The courtesans felt the chief's queasy stare press on Haon like a nasty fog, and exchanged worried looks among each other, though none dared to utter a single word.
Their smiles stayed painted on, but their fingers tensed around silk sleeves, bodies poised between charm and caution.
They knew very well that Chief Yan had a horrible temper, with daily rumours circulating about his devious acts whispered in the more private circles of the city.
But funnily enough, he didn't visit the Silk Pavilion often—perhaps out of some unspoken truce, or simply because his tastes leaned toward darker corners of indulgence.
Maybe because of that, Chief Yan didn't seem to know about Haon's special patron. A man far more dangerous than the arrogant drunk could ever imagine. A man with the kind of power that could erase the chief from existence—turning him into tiny specks of dust with nothing more than a snap of his finger.
Were they willing to warn the chief about his impending demise? Probably not.
The chief, being the prideful man he was, wouldn't heed their words anyway. He would likely punish them for even daring to voice concern, as if insulted by their implication that he wasn't above another man. Given such well-known circumstances, it served their interests far more to simply let the fool dig his own grave.
'Good. One less hindrance out of our way.' That was their shared sentiment behind their charming smiles, lips curling just enough to mask the sinister thoughts.
As the chief wobbled to his feet, clearly intent on heading toward the corner where the hauntingly melodious music flowed like mist, one of his men quickly jumped up, panic flaring in his eyes, and knelt in front of him.
"You mustn't, Chief. Not this one!"
Abruptly stumbling in his tracks, Chief Yan furrowed his brow at the impudent interruption. "How dare you stop me! Are you thirsty for a hundred floggings?! I can gladly give it to you!" he yelled, spit flying from his lips as fury overtook reason.
The man before him turned pale, but held his ground, even as sweat glistened at his temples. "I'm only looking out for you, Chief. That musician is a possession of Noha. It is better to stay away from him."
'Noha?' The name sent a cold shudder racing down his spine, even in his intoxicated state and clawed at a buried fear he didn't want to acknowledge. Clearing his throat and attempting to appear unaffected, he quickly changed the topic, feigning disinterest.
"Ah. We have an early outing tomorrow. Why don't we wrap up for the night?"
His men sang in unison, seizing the excuse with grateful haste, and in no time they gathered their belongings, allowing the courtesans to guide them to their respective rooms to settle in for the night.
One by one, the guests trickled out of the shadow-draped chamber, their footsteps fading like ripples down the corridor—while the sound of the xulin continued, patient and unbroken, until the last of the men had departed.
*~*~*~*~*
"Haon, wait for me, okay? I'm almost done cleaning up the tables." Esei pleaded in desperation, her voice rising with urgency as she glanced over her shoulder. Only the two of them were left within the four-cornered walls, the rest having long since dispersed into the night.
"Worry not, Esei. I'll be here until you are done." Haon replied with a kind smile, as he carefully placed his instrument inside its wooden case, the soft muslin lining cradling the xulin like a treasured relic.
After making sure everything was perfect to be used the next time he performed, he mindfully shut the lid back into place.
"I'll finish it super fast." Esei promised, determination lighting up her face.
The young maiden's delicate hands moved in swift circles as she wiped the wooden surface, trying to erase every stubborn stain clinging to the lacquered finish. But every now and then, she got distracted by her throbbing cheek, still sore from earlier.
'Damn, how hard did that nasty chief slap me?' she mused bitterly, her tongue clicking in dismay as she winced at the memory. 'Just because he's the chief of Sufen, he thinks he's untouchable or something! I hope he meets his demise soon. I'll pray for it.'
Being one of the newer girls, Esei was left with the menial chore of cleaning up after everyone had gone. This, of course, doubled as punishment for her earlier clumsy mistake.
That evening, she made a silent vow to herself.
She would climb the ladder, no matter what it took. She would earn more, rise above these humiliations. 'Then I wouldn't have to do these kinds of lowly chores anymore. I will make sure of that.'
Finally wiping down the last of the sticky stains, Esei sighed and brushed away the beads of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. "Finally over." She sang with mock triumph, fanning herself with quick swipes of her palm.
The air around them was hot and humid, made worse by the stifling layers of fabric she was required to wear.
Her gaze trailed toward Haon, who stood calmly by the wall, seemingly untouched by the heat or fatigue.
'Is this the power of a Hwarin?' she wondered with envy. 'But I heard his golden eyes are useless since they don't serve their normal purpose. Poor thing. If he wasn't blind, he could've worked somewhere better by using those innate abilities of his.'
She caught herself, pausing the thought. Who was she to pity someone else when her own life was teetering at the verge of collapse?
'He'll figure something out,' she murmured with a dry chuckle, as she moved to collect the final cloth.
*~*~*~*~*
Stepping out into the cold rustles of the night, Haon and Esei sought light from the full moon that was shining upon them from the cloudless sky, its silvery glow spilling halos along their path.
Their breaths came out in quiet wisps, vanishing into the chill as they traveled the gravelled pathway, their footsteps crunching with each step.
Eventually, they reached a modest eatery nestled between shuttered shops, its entrance glowing from all sides with golden hanging lamps, warm and inviting like a sanctuary in the dark.
The mouthwatering scent of roasted meat and seared spice wafted in the air, so rich and fragrant that it stirred their stomachs into a low, audible grumble. They also witnessed several patrons come out sporadically, patting their full bellies and tossing quiet goodbyes to the old cook at the counter.
Stepping in, they found that the place was fairly empty with the rush long over, and only a few tables remained occupied by late-night stragglers.
"Good thing we can grab a seat wherever we want," Esei chirped, already moving toward one of the low tables by the paper screen window. They settled down, the straw mats crinkling softly under their weight as they sat across from each other.
"Today is roasted chicken and rice. Lucky us," she added with a satisfied sigh, glancing toward the steaming kitchen.
They didn't have to wait long as the food was quickly served, generously portioned and paired with a small jar of rice wine.
"Here, I'll serve you one. Can you critique my hand movements?" Esei quipped, lifting the jar with elegance as she carefully poured it into the chipped old cups.
"It is graceful, Esei."
The maiden giggled satisfyingly at the praise, and before long, they busied themselves with filling their empty stomachs, the clink of chopsticks weaving comfortably around them.
"Granny, we want to hear the stories of the two-headed dragons. We've been good today!"
A tiny voice floated across the room, making Haon glance back. In the far corner, the usual white-haired old lady sat at a low table with her two granddaughters nestled close beside her.
"Yeah! I want to hear it too!" the toothless younger child beamed.
"Alright," the old woman hummed, her smile wrinkling into her cheeks. "Both of you were on your best behaviour, so I'll tell it to you."
"Yay!" the girls cheered, already scooting closer to their grandmother's side.
"Ugh, aren't they sick of that story yet? We hear it every time we sit near them," Esei grunted under her breath before sipping her soup eloquently, the manners ingrained in her movements even in complaint.
"The children seem to enjoy the story a lot," Haon chuckled, as he chewed on the seasoned chicken, allowing the comforting heat of the meal and the soothing timbre of the old woman's voice to pull him deeper into the story unfolding beside them.
"Once upon a time...."