"Mother Jia, didn't we agree that five hundred taels would be enough?" Fu Ping'an asked, barely suppressing his anger.
"Young Master Fu, perhaps I was drunk earlier and my mind is muddled. Young Master Fu, if you do the math, Qingqing has already been taken by the young master. Her body is worthless, but her looks are outstanding. It's not unreasonable to charge her thirty or fifty taels a night. If we calculate based on twenty days of entertaining customers a month, that's six or seven hundred taels a month."
Qingqing is still young; she can work for a few more years, don't you think?
Fu Pingan slammed his hand on the table.
The woman remained calm, as if she hadn't seen anything.
The pimp standing outside pushed open the door and silently stood behind the woman.
A woman stood outside the door, her face filled with worry.
Several other women, who had been watching the commotion, stood there calmly with smiles on their faces, comforting Qingqing.
"Sister Qingqing, you still have to rely on someone. What right does someone who can't even come up with a thousand taels of silver have to say they love you? What right do they have to support you?"
"Your regular patrons tip you more than a few hundred taels a month in total."
Qingqing stared at her with a cold expression until the woman felt quite embarrassed.
The other women tugged at her sleeve, but she still pretended not to notice.
Chen Xian stood up calmly and pointed at the madam.
"Aunt Jia, do you really think these women are all voluntarily accompanying men?"
"If you make things so difficult for a woman, what will those other women think of you if they ever meet a decent man they can rely on, besides Qingqing? You're just asking for more money like this."
These words clearly contained no anger.
But once inside the relatively quiet room, things suddenly became unsettling.
Among the crowd stood a quiet woman in a red dress with snow-white skin, who had originally been watching the commotion with the others.
He frowned and listened quietly.
"Miss Xue, this person's words are truly sharp and cutting."
The woman named Xue Guniang looked at Qingqing's worried face and then at the young man in the hall with a resentful expression.
Suddenly, I felt melancholy again.
"The brocade zither has fifty strings for no reason; each string and each bridge evokes thoughts of bygone years..."
A woman suddenly asked playfully, "Sister Xue, judging from your recitation of these poems, it seems you're lovesick..."
Miss Xue smiled calmly: "I really don't know how talented that gentleman is. I wish I could meet him..."
A poem of lamentation from a woman's boudoir, a poem of love, both fully expressing a woman's sorrow and bewilderment.
One of the women nodded: "Yes, such a talented man, if he were willing to write a poem for us, he might become famous throughout Yingzhou Prefecture."
Snow Girl chuckled: "What are you thinking? This kind of person is the most arrogant. I think that person is at least forty years old and has experienced many vicissitudes, otherwise he wouldn't be able to write such profound emotions. It's truly admirable."
Even just meeting this person once would be nice.
A woman, seeing Xue's absorbed expression, teased, "It seems our Xue is truly in love now...hehe."
"But which courtesan wouldn't want to meet this man..."
Mother Jia looked at the man in his mid-thirties who had been silent all along. Although he was plain-looking, the calm and composed pressure emanating from him was overwhelming.
Especially the other party's seemingly calm words, like a sharp knife tearing away the awkward, hypocritical veil of pretense.
The truth is the fastest way to cut.
Moreover, the way those women looked at her was filled with a hint of indifference.
This person truly has a sharp tongue; it can kill by attacking the heart.
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