The madam was middle-aged, slightly overweight, and her face was covered in so much makeup that her true features were obscured.
She wore her hair in a high bun, dressed in a colorful red and green outfit, and held a round fan that swayed back and forth with her movements.
What should have been a graceful movement turned into an eyesore when she performed it.
This clever young servant could still smile easily and freely in front of a face like a palette of colors, which shows that he had some skill.
This brothel has many girls, and it's the largest brothel in Kyoto. The people who go there are all rich and noble, so the things they use for the girls are naturally of the highest quality.
Since this painted pavilion opened, she has come here every day. After a while, she simply came once a month, each time with a fixed number of visitors.
When the servant saw her arrive, he quickly ordered someone to fetch the rouge and face powder that had been prepared for her, while he himself chatted with the madam.
This servant must be a minor manager; his words carry weight.
"Hua Niang, it's been quite a while since you've come. What's wrong? Why do you look so gloomy as soon as you arrive?" The servant noticed that the madam was not as cheerful as usual and felt that her expression was somewhat strange.
The madam was a frequent visitor to the brothel and could talk to everyone there. When the servant asked her, she hesitated for a moment before telling him the truth.
"Ugh, don't even mention it, it's just another headache in the building." A hint of annoyance appeared on her face, showing just how bad it was.
"What happened? Tell me about it." The servant thought it was some romantic affair and wanted to gossip about it.
He was surrounded by women every day, and where there are women, there is gossip. So, after a while, and because they were bored, the servants also liked to ask a few questions.
The beggar's owner leaned back against the high counter. "It wasn't a big deal, but... well, I might as well tell you."
This statement clearly piqued the servant's interest, making him think it was something interesting.
Sure enough, he grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds from somewhere and started cracking them open with relish.
Hua Niang wasn't pretentious at all; she told him everything, word for word.
"The other day, a girl in my brothel died quietly. She usually only performed, not sold her body. That day, she sang for a customer, but the next day she hanged herself. I had no choice but to have someone bury her. But ever since then, strange noises have been coming from her room. I thought it was some careless maid, so I took some people to check, but there was nothing there. After we left, the noises started again, and when I listened carefully, it gave me quite a fright! Oh dear." Hua Niang patted her chest, still shaken, as she recalled the incident, which was far more terrifying than she had described.
The servant was so engrossed in listening that he stopped eating his melon seeds. Seeing that the courtesan had stopped talking, he quickly urged, "Hey, what happened next, courtesan?"
"Later, I listened carefully and realized it was that girl's singing voice. Many people in the brothel know that it was her favorite song, and the melody was exactly the same as when she was alive. After that, there were some rumors in my brothel, and I lost so many customers. I had no choice but to have someone perform a ritual, but it didn't work. Alas, the business in the brothel is getting worse day by day, and those girls' hearts are about to fly away. If this continues, my brothel will definitely go out of business!" Hua Niang became more and more anxious as she spoke. She was counting on this brothel to make money for her retirement.
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