Chapter Thirty-six: Drunk Upon the Beauty’s Bed

Bai Xinxin led the way ahead, guiding Qin Cheng through the main hall and into the rear courtyard of the pavilion. Compared to the bright lights and lively clamor in the front building, here the lighting was soft, the atmosphere tranquil. Passing through the courtyard, Qin Cheng even noticed a small fish pond.

Bai Xinxin brought Qin Cheng up a small flight of stairs. The servant following them stepped forward to open the door to a private room. Bai Xinxin turned gracefully toward Qin Cheng behind her and gestured invitingly. “General, please.”

“After you, Miss Xin’er,” Qin Cheng replied, following her into the room.

The room was divided into two parts: an outer chamber and an inner chamber. In the outer chamber, two desks were set facing one another, with a third desk set apart to the side. Along the wall near the desk stood a bookshelf, generously filled with scrolls. The inner chamber, separated from the outer by a single curtain, was out of Qin Cheng’s line of sight; he glimpsed only a bed. The entire décor was not as ornate as Qin Cheng had imagined, nor was it garish. His first impression was that it did not resemble a lady’s boudoir, but rather a scholar’s study. Though there was a faint, lingering fragrance in the air, it was subtle enough that upon seeing the bamboo scrolls, Qin Cheng almost thought the scent emanated from them.

The two of them took their seats as host and guest. Shortly, servants arrived bearing wine and dishes. Once all was set, Bai Xinxin offered Qin Cheng a gentle smile, raised her wine cup, her lips parting delicately, revealing a hint of pearly teeth. “General, it is a great honor for Xin’er to receive you here tonight. Allow me to toast you first.”

“Please, Miss Xin’er,” Qin Cheng responded, lifting his own cup.

“General, please feel at ease,” Bai Xinxin said, setting down her cup and motioning for Qin Cheng to help himself to the food and drink.

Qin Cheng filled his cup but could not help chuckling and shaking his head, a curious look on his face.

“General, why do you shake your head? Is it that the wine and food here do not suit your tastes? If that is so, I will have them changed immediately,” Bai Xinxin asked with a hint of concern.

“Not at all, Miss Xin’er, you think too much,” Qin Cheng replied with a smile, brushing his sleeve. “I was simply struck by the thought that there truly exist such remarkable women as Miss Xin’er in this world. Forgive me my moment’s awe.”

“A remarkable woman?” Bai Xinxin covered her mouth and laughed softly, her eyes resting on Qin Cheng. “What remarkable woman am I? General, are you teasing me?”

“By no means!” Qin Cheng declared, raising his cup in her direction. Seeing Bai Xinxin do likewise, he tipped his head back and drained his wine. Then he sliced off a piece of lamb with his knife, popped it into his mouth, and spoke as if completely at ease, showing none of the restraint expected of a guest. “I would not dare jest. Since you wish to hear, let me explain.”

He glanced around the room, then spoke slowly, “Your chamber is simple and elegant, devoid of opulence or extravagance, and even lacks the decorative touches that most young ladies favor. Instead of flowers, you have a shelf of scrolls. That is the first point. Secondly, though you are clearly a person of refined taste, instead of serving tea to your guest for conversation, you serve wine. That is the second. As for the third…”

Qin Cheng paused, raised his cup and met Bai Xinxin’s gaze, then drank. As he set his cup down, he saw that she had just finished hers as well. He smiled. “The third is, you drink with the fortitude of a man—indeed, you outdo many men. I am deeply impressed!”

“So that’s what you mean.” Bai Xinxin laughed lightly, finding his words amusing. Composing herself, she said, “I find you quite unusual as well, General. May I share my thoughts?”

“Please do,” Qin Cheng replied.

Bai Xinxin straightened, her gaze settling on Qin Cheng’s face, their eyes meeting. “Though you are young, you carry yourself with remarkable composure. I have been here some years and met my share of officials and men of note. Yet none have spoken with me so freely or acted as naturally as you do. They are either excessively reserved or full of bluster. You, on the other hand, seem completely unperturbed by me. Such grace in one so young is truly admirable.”

Qin Cheng gave a casual smile, noting inwardly how she was not shy about praising herself. Her confidence was as open as a man’s—another remarkable quality.

“My way is simply to avoid being too constrained, nor do I care much for the opinions of others. Within reason, I follow my own inclinations—it brings me peace of mind. If I have offended, I beg your forgiveness,” Qin Cheng said with a cupped-hands salute and a smile.

“Since that is so, I can only drink another toast to you, General!” Bai Xinxin declared, her dimples deepening with her smile.

“Well said! Miss Xin’er, you are truly a woman of character. Cheers!”

After they drank, Qin Cheng laughed heartily. “Miss Xin’er, have you any further observations?”

“If I may, it is only to say that your capacity for wine amazes me,” Bai Xinxin replied, refilling her cup. She stole a glance at Qin Cheng, finding him watching her intently. Her heart fluttered with inexplicable nervousness, and her hand trembled, spilling a little of the clear wine. Her ears flushed red, but it was only for a moment. She quickly regained her composure, met Qin Cheng’s gaze, and said softly, “General, you drink as if it were water. The wine accompanies the meat, and though you have eaten but a few pieces, you have already consumed more than a jin of wine. Such capacity, I have never seen before.”

Qin Cheng had just set down his cup and now burst into hearty laughter. To be fair, this bamboo wine was indeed of fine quality—fragrant and mellow, with a lingering aftertaste. It was as refreshing as beer, yet the ancient winemakers had elevated it to a level that rivaled the finest grape wines he had ever tasted. There was a subtle historical aura about it, something unique to ancient times. For a lover of wine like Qin Cheng, to indulge in such a drink, with no fear of being taken advantage of while drunk, was pure bliss.

“If you ask me, Miss Xin’er, your own capacity rivals mine. Let me toast you once more!” Qin Cheng said with gusto.

“Please, General!”

They drank again. Qin Cheng wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, while Bai Xinxin dabbed hers delicately with a handkerchief, her movements graceful as a dragonfly skimming the water. Their eyes met unexpectedly, and both laughed.

“General, may I play the zither for you?” Bai Xinxin asked, her eyes shining.

“If you would be so kind, I would be honored!” Qin Cheng replied. He had witnessed her dance earlier in the hall—her graceful movements set to song and music had been a sight to behold. Now, to have her play the zither for him alone was a rare privilege, one he could not refuse.

With his assent, Bai Xinxin rose, bowed, and stepped into the inner chamber. Qin Cheng had just poured another cup when she returned, carrying a deep mahogany guqin. She seated herself gracefully at the unused desk, lowered her gaze, and set the instrument down. A cascade of black hair tumbled over her cheek, veiling half her face.

Qin Cheng watched in silence.

Bai Xinxin lifted her jade-like hands, her sleeves slipping back to reveal flawless skin. In the dim light, the tender skin at her wrist glowed with a soft hue, adding a touch of mystery and allure. With slender fingers, she brushed aside a lock of hair and revealed eyes as clear as crystal. She raised her eyes to Qin Cheng, full of subtle charm. Noticing his unwavering gaze, her cheeks flushed with a delicate blush—her demeanor now was the very picture of exquisite beauty.

In the modern age, who among those raised on tales of ancient beauties has not daydreamed of such a scene? With such a woman before him, Qin Cheng could not help but be captivated, his eyes fixed upon her. For a moment, he wondered at her sudden shyness, given her earlier poise, but thought no more of it.

The most tender moment is when she lowers her eyes, as gentle as a water lily bowing to the breeze.

So mused Qin Cheng in his heart.

The first note rang out—clear and resonant. The melody unfurled, drifting through the air, and Qin Cheng’s heart was stilled. He closed his eyes to savor the ancient timbre.

Her hands moved lightly, fingers dancing across the strings. Sometimes she bowed her head, sometimes she looked up. The music flowed like a mountain stream—gentle as a spring, rushing as a waterfall, crisp as pearls falling on jade, soft as a whisper.

When the piece ended, Qin Cheng opened his eyes slowly, momentarily lost in thought.

“General,” Bai Xinxin called softly.

Qin Cheng returned to himself, smiled, and took up his wine cup. He left his seat, poured Bai Xinxin another cup in her own vessel, and brought it to her.

Bai Xinxin accepted the cup with both hands, gazing at Qin Cheng. Her luminous eyes seemed full of unspoken emotion; she did not know where to begin, and her gaze flickered restlessly.

Qin Cheng looked down into her eyes. “Miss, I have heard much music in my life, but your zither is the purest I have ever encountered. For this heavenly music, I must toast you.”

“General,” Bai Xinxin murmured, finding herself at a loss for words. Watching Qin Cheng drain his cup, she did likewise.

“Please, Miss,” Qin Cheng said after, gesturing for her to return to her seat.

“Though I live a life among the dust, my learning is not unworthy of respect. Just now, as I played, it felt as though a lifetime passed in a moment, and countless feelings surged within me. Though we are of similar age, the depth of feeling in your music is as if an old man were looking back on a long life. Such sincerity is not born of idle sentiment. For a moment, I felt a deep resonance with you, and I cannot help but wonder—how have you, at your age, come by such profound feeling?” Qin Cheng asked gently, voicing his curiosity.

He had expected that Bai Xinxin would react strongly to his question, as it seemed to challenge her emotional authenticity. To his surprise, she only nodded and smiled. After, she looked at him seriously and replied, “General, is not the answer before you?”

“Oh?” Qin Cheng paused, then understood, and laughed. “Indeed, I was stubborn. Forgive me, Miss.”

“No matter,” Bai Xinxin replied warmly. “If you can hear the meaning in my music, it means your own life has not been ordinary. To tell you the truth, this piece is my newest work, just completed. Tonight is its first public performance. If there are flaws, I hope you will not mind.”

“I composed it for my own amusement, never intending to play it for another. But after meeting you today, I could not help but play it. I did not expect you to be a true connoisseur. When I saw you lost in thought, I knew you must have sorrows akin to my own. If the song can move you, why should I hesitate to share it with the world? You are a man of high rank and great talent, destined for greatness, hardly someone a humble woman like me could hope to attract. But seeing you appreciate my music fills me with joy. If I have acted out of turn, I hope you will not think ill of me.”

With that, Bai Xinxin bowed her head, poured herself a drink, and emptied it without looking at Qin Cheng.

Though a courtesan’s status in those times was not low, Bai Xinxin’s words were self-effacing. Qin Cheng did not know the customs, but seeing her openly reveal her feelings while still hinting at her own sense of inferiority left him troubled. Such women, perhaps, existed only in ancient times. Even the likes of Xiao Linglong never moved him—her betrayal had never stirred his heart, for she was not worth it, not even to provoke negative feelings. But now, meeting Bai Xinxin, her conduct and her art, he felt a kind of pity. He filled his cup decisively and raised it to her. “Miss Xin’er, in my life I have met many people and seen many things, but a woman such as you is a once-in-a-lifetime encounter. To know you is a rare joy. Come, let us drink together!”

Bai Xinxin heard his words and looked up, her eyes shining. Seeing the sincerity in his gaze, she felt reassured and dared to meet his eyes for a long moment, unflinching. At last, she raised her cup, and they drank together.

Setting down her cup, Bai Xinxin wiped her mouth boldly and looked at Qin Cheng. Suddenly, she smiled as if making a decision, rose, and stepped before him. She bowed deeply. “General, meeting you tonight is a blessing from a previous life. I am but a woman of the dust, with little worthy of display. I can only offer a song and dance to express the stirrings in my heart.”

As she spoke, a single crystal tear slid down her cheek. Without waiting for Qin Cheng’s reply, she assumed a dancer’s pose, her lips trembling as she began, “This dance, in this lifetime, is for you alone, General, and for you alone will I dance.”

With that, her sleeves fluttered as she moved—her dance was as fluid as drifting clouds, emerging in slow, graceful motion.

“In this life, let me not dance lightly,
For one dance may last a lifetime.
Tonight, I dance for you,
And for you alone, this lifetime’s dance.
In this world, let me not dance lightly,
For one dance may bring a lifetime of sorrow.
Tonight, I dance for you,
Though sorrowful, I would dance a lifetime.
A single dance in this world is bitter,
Yet for you, I ask, is it not sweet?
I dance before you,
For a lifetime, is it not sweet?
…”

Lightly singing and dancing, Bai Xinxin’s movements flowed seamlessly, at times ethereal as a fairy, at times earthy as a peasant at work—sometimes light, sometimes heavy, interwoven in exquisite beauty.

Qin Cheng watched her dance and sing, and waves surged in his heart. He drank cup after cup, not realizing how many pots of wine he had finished.

Suddenly, a vision flashed in his mind—a white figure dancing in snow, laughing, calling his name, “Qin Cheng, Qin Cheng, Qin Cheng…”

Then, gunfire erupted.

Qin Cheng shook his head with a bitter smile. The beauty before him danced on, but her figure grew ever more blurred. He grabbed the wine pot from the table and drank it down, spilling wine on himself and the floor.

This wine, gentle at first, was slow to intoxicate but had a powerful aftereffect. He had already drunk much in the main hall, and now even more in the quiet room with Bai Xinxin. As the wine took hold, his vision blurred and his head spun.

As her dance ended, Bai Xinxin was in tears, yet her face shone with contentment and ease, as if she had never smiled so freely in her life.

When she looked at Qin Cheng, he had already risen, wine pot in hand, staring blankly at her as he staggered over.

“General…” Bai Xinxin hurried over, seeing his unsteady form, and caught him, calling softly.

Qin Cheng leaned on her shoulder, making her tremble. But he seemed oblivious, only smiling, his mind clouded, though with a sliver of clarity. “Miss, your dance was beautiful, your singing even more so. My heart feels as if it has melted.”

“General, is that truly so?” Bai Xinxin’s pale cheeks were streaked with tears, but her smile was brighter than summer blooms. Had Qin Cheng seen clearly, he would have been bewitched by her expression.

“How could you doubt me? I speak from the heart,” Qin Cheng patted his chest in assurance, but swayed, nearly collapsing.

“General,” Bai Xinxin smiled, holding him up with all her strength. “Shall I help you rest?”

Without waiting for his reply, she guided him into the inner chamber. It took all her effort, and nearly a fall or two, but she finally got him onto the bed.

The moment his body touched the bed, he collapsed, his arms landing across her as well, pulling her down with him.

Bai Xinxin, sprawled across Qin Cheng’s chest, tried to rise, but whether it was his arm holding her too tightly or her own lack of will, she did not break free. After one failed attempt, she gave up and lay quietly against his chest.

“General…”

She called him softly.

Qin Cheng, barely conscious, only muttered incoherently.

Bai Xinxin remained there, her smile blossoming, utterly at peace.

“General…” she called again. Seeing no response, she propped herself up to look at his face.

She gazed for a long while, then reached out with a snow-white hand to gently caress his cheek, her heart pounding furiously. After a long pause, she whispered, “I am fated to be a woman of the dust in this life. To meet such a hero, to have my music and dance understood as by a soulmate—if this is all I have in this life, what regret could I have in death?”

With those words, she struggled to her feet, her gaze lingering on Qin Cheng, and began quietly removing her clothes at the bedside…

The autumn night was cold, the north wind howled, and the lights of Qiansang City shimmered. In the secluded upper floor of Linxiang Pavilion, there was a long spell of silence, broken only by faint, intermittent sounds…

Tonight, though the chill was deep, it was a night of beauty.