Duan Ling still had duties to attend to and could not stay long at Nanshan Pavilion, so he had to set off back to the Beizhen Fusi.
Lin Ting offered to escort him back.
Duan Ling had never heard a woman say such words to a man before and was momentarily stunned, but he did not refuse her.
Instead of retracing their original route, Lin Ting chose another path—one that bordered Changxing Alley to the north and Zhuque Street’s western section to the south.
It was said that this street was the liveliest during the day, yet also the most chaotic, with relatively lax management.
Because the Great Yan Empire had once enjoyed the glory of receiving emissaries from many nations and embraced diversity, a special district—West Street—had been designated for foreigners.
Most merchants from various nations gathered there to conduct business and enjoyed favorable trade policies under Yan law.
West Street was bustling with people.
Some were performing acrobatics with great effort—fire breathing, breaking stones on their chests, swallowing swords, and showcasing knife-throwing skills.
Others strolled leisurely, occasionally tossing coins as rewards when they saw something impressive.
The Hu people were naturally exuberant, dancing energetically in the street, drawing rounds of cheers from the crowd.
Lin Ting was generous with her praise.
Whenever she saw a particularly skilled acrobat, she would take out a few coins as a reward, clap her hands in excitement, and join in the cheering.
Her loud, high-pitched voice constantly rang in Duan Ling’s ears, almost deafening him.
Anyone unaware of the situation might have thought Lin Ting had come here specifically to watch the performances rather than to escort him back to the Beizhen Fusi.
Or perhaps, escorting him was just an excuse, and her real intention was to find someone to accompany her here.
After about fifteen minutes, Lin Ting finally realized she had been distracted from the true purpose of this trip and turned her attention back to Duan Ling.
“Lord Duan, West Street is closer to the Beizhen Fusi. It will save us quite a bit of time.”
She explained why she had chosen this route.
In truth, Lin Ting had deliberately led Duan Ling to West Street, which was far more crowded and chaotic than other streets, hoping to use the dense throng as an excuse to “accidentally” grab onto him and thus achieve her goal smoothly.
Duan Ling stepped around a vendor leading a donkey and showed no sign of displeasure.
“Miss Lin Qi, you seem quite familiar with this area. Do you come here often?”
Lin Ting was the owner of a fabric shop, and on occasion, she had to negotiate business deals.
She sometimes came to West Street in search of affordable, high-quality fabric suppliers, so she was somewhat familiar with the area.
“Not often, just once in a while.”
He did not press further and instead observed the surroundings and the diverse faces of the passersby.
Suddenly, a surge of people flooded in from behind, making the already crowded street nearly impassable.
Lin Ting asked around and learned that a courtesan parade was taking place today, causing the citizens to rush forward to catch a glimpse.
The sheer number of people squeezing together was exactly what Lin Ting had hoped for—it provided the perfect opportunity for her plan.
However, just as a triumphant smile formed on her lips, it quickly faded.
Too many people wasn’t necessarily a good thing—she and Duan Ling were separated in the crush, and she found herself getting further and further away from him, unable to even reach out.
“Lord Duan!”
Lin Ting, mindful of her task, struggled against the crowd, but the force of the people pushed her forward relentlessly, making it impossible to break free.
She had failed to take advantage of the chaos to grab onto Duan Ling, but she herself had been grabbed multiple times instead—by women just like her, who were being jostled by the crowd.
These women, having less strength than Lin Ting, instinctively reached out to hold onto people or objects nearby whenever they were about to fall.
Lin Ting caught some of them and helped steady them, only to end up being squeezed together with them.
Once everyone regained their balance, Lin Ting turned back to look for Duan Ling.
By then, more than a dozen people stood between them.
Would she really miss such a golden opportunity?
No, she refused to accept that.
Lin Ting summoned all her strength and pushed against the tide of people, forcing her way forward and reaching out toward Duan Ling.
But the citizens’ enthusiasm for the courtesan was far greater than anything Lin Ting could resist alone.
She was swept along like a commuter in a packed modern subway—her legs barely her own to control.
She knew some martial arts, but not enough to stand firm against the surging crowd.
She couldn’t just use the sleeping powder she carried and knock out everyone around her.
Using drugs on innocent people in broad daylight would definitely land her in jail, not to mention she didn’t have enough sleeping powder for all of them.
In the end, Lin Ting was carried by the crowd in the opposite direction—toward the courtesan’s parade.
Looking back, even Duan Ling’s shadow was nowhere to be seen.
He had likely left directly—after all, he didn’t need her to escort him; he could return to the Beizhen Fusi just fine on his own.
She had miscalculated and failed to accomplish her goal.
Lin Ting simply gave up struggling, wiped the sweat off her face from being squeezed around, and turned her attention to the spectacle.
A flower carriage, framed in redwood and drawn by two horses, slowly made its way down the street, followed by musicians playing flutes and silk-stringed instruments.
The carriage was hollow on all sides, its railings draped with ethereal silk.
Behind it sat a massive floral arrangement composed of thousands of blossoms, and atop the carriage stood the legendary courtesan.
Lin Ting first examined the carriage before shifting her gaze to the courtesan.
She wore pearl-studded hairpins and a veil of violet gauze.
A floral ornament adorned her forehead, while a sheer robe draped over her body.
Bangles jingled at her wrists and waist as she twirled gracefully atop the carriage, her movements as light as clouds.
As the crowd’s cheers grew louder, the courtesan cast a sultry glance at the onlookers.
In her left hand, she held a flower, and with her right, she lifted the veil, slowly revealing the beauty underneath.
An apricot-shaped face, peach-blossom cheeks, golden hair, and bright green eyes—her lips crimson, her teeth pearly white.
She was a Hu dancer.
Lin Ting, who had been sulking over her failure to grab onto Duan Ling, was now utterly mesmerized by the courtesan’s beauty.
Her eyes widened as she continued to watch in fascination.
West Street often hosted events like this.
Lin Ting had encountered them two or three times before but never paid them much mind.
Today, however, she found herself thoroughly enjoying the spectacle.
A man nearby noticed Lin Ting’s awestruck expression and assumed she had never seen such a scene before.
Seeing that she was even more striking than the courtesan herself, he became interested and enthusiastically said, “Miss, is this your first time on West Street? Every month, there’s a courtesan parade like this.”
Lin Ting nodded perfunctorily.
The man tried to show off his knowledge.
“The courtesan only stays on West Street for half an hour before heading to East Street to perform, and then she leaves the city. Who knows how much silver she’ll earn along the way?”
“I see.”
Lin Ting didn’t want to embarrass him, but she had already heard about the rules of the courtesan parade long ago—today, she had just happened to stumble upon it.
“Miss, did you come here alone?”
“Yes.”
The man was encouraged by her response.
“This courtesan is very famous in the capital and rarely participates in the courtesan parade. So far, this is only the second time. Many people have spent a fortune just to make her smile.”
She replied, “I see.”
The man kept searching for topics to continue the conversation.
“It’s strange, though. The courtesan parade is usually at the end of the month, but today is only the middle of the month. Why was it moved up?”
Lin Ting let his words go in one ear and out the other.
Right now, she only wanted to watch the courtesan.
A moment later, a handsome man stepped out of the flower carriage.
His looks and temperament matched the courtesan’s.
He walked up to her, bent down, lifted his gaze to meet hers, and then opened his mouth to bite the flower in her hand.
The crowd erupted instantly.
Cheers and applause rang out in waves.
The man remained unfazed, as if oblivious to the noise.
His nimble tongue traced along the flower stem toward the delicate petals, yet he did not bite down.
His eyes never left the courtesan.
On the high buildings flanking West Street, nobles who enjoyed watching such spectacles ordered their servants to toss silver coins onto the open space near the flower carriage, using money to encourage the courtesan and the man to continue their performance.
The courtesan glanced at the silver with a smile.
With her slender fingers, she lightly tapped the man’s Adam’s apple.
It seemed to be a signal between them.
The man leaned in even closer.
His lips, tinted with rouge, brushed against the back of the courtesan’s hand.
After a soft kiss, he bit down on the flower petals in her hand—like a servant submitting to his master.
Far from feeling humiliated, the man took pride in it.
Under the gaze of the crowd, he slowly chewed the flower petal, swallowing it.
The fresh flower’s juices stained his lips an even deeper red, making him appear more bewitching than the courtesan herself.
More silver coins rained down on the flower carriage as the cheers and whistles continued unabated.
After swallowing the flower, the man tilted his head back as if he were about to kiss the courtesan.
But before he could, she gently pressed his head down.
The courtesan wore a pair of modified straw sandals, adorned with flowers, which made her feet look as flawless as jade.
The man was nearly prostrated at her feet, reaching forward to bite the flowers decorating her sandals.
But he was so close that his tongue kept brushing against her feet.
From the high buildings, silver coins continued to fall, not injuring the people below but landing precisely on the flower carriage.
Lin Ting bought a bag of roasted chestnuts from a nearby vendor.
As she peeled and ate them, she sighed to herself—this really deserved to be a restricted-rated scene.
Even the courtesan put on such an elaborate act, both unexpected yet perfectly fitting.
She figured that she probably wouldn’t be able to complete her task today.
In that case, she might as well stay and enjoy the show to soothe her wounded pride.
Amid the uproar, someone beside her suddenly asked, “You like watching this?”
Without thinking, she casually replied, “It’s entertaining, I like it.”
Only after answering did she realize something was off.
She turned her head—who else could it be standing beside her but Duan Ling?
“Lord Duan?”
Lin Ting’s eyes lit up when she saw him.
She clutched her bag of roasted chestnuts, still holding a freshly peeled golden-yellow chestnut in her hand.
Even her voice carried the sweet scent of chestnuts.
Duan Ling glanced at Lin Ting, then at the chestnut in her hand.
Lin Ting tossed the peeled chestnut back into the bag and said, “There were too many people earlier. I couldn’t find you and thought you had already returned to the Beizhen Fusi.”
Wasn’t he in a hurry to get back?
Why was he still here?
He looked at the courtesan and the man on the flower carriage.
“I’m not returning just yet.”
She was puzzled.
“Why?”
“To watch the courtesan.”
Lin Ting highly doubted that.
She was sure Duan Ling had other business here but chose not to probe further.
It didn’t matter to her—her mission was more important.
She was getting restless again.
The commoners were completely engrossed in watching the courtesan.
Other than those at the back trying to push forward, the people at the front barely moved, forming a wall of human bodies.
Now that she and Duan Ling were standing close to the flower carriage, there was no longer the chaotic shoving from before.
Lin Ting had to admit that she had lost her best chance to grab hold of Duan Ling.
What a pity.
After failing over and over again, she was starting to seriously consider drugging him.
After all, if he was knocked out, she could carry out her plan however she pleased.
But that was just a beautiful fantasy.
The reality was cruel—someone of Duan Ling’s status wouldn’t still be alive today if he could be easily drugged.
If her knockout powder worked on him, he’d have died a hundred times over already.
She needed to come up with another plan…
Lin Ting stole a glance at Duan Ling from the corner of her eye and was surprised to find that he was genuinely watching the courtesan’s performance.
Even though his eyes were on the flower carriage, Duan Ling could sense her sneaky glances.
“Miss Lin Qi, weren’t you enjoying the courtesan’s performance? Why are you looking at me now instead of watching the show?”
Just as Lin Ting was about to answer, her nose twitched—she smelled a faint trace of blood.
Where was the scent of blood coming from?
He’s not fooling me, he went looking for her.