Chapter 38: Lifting the Skirt

As soon as Zhu Shuang finished speaking, the young women embraced each other in cheers of celebration. Seeing this, Qiu Fu could not help but drool.

In the early Ming Dynasty, Neo-Confucianism had not yet reached its peak. It was not uncommon for courtesans to leave the brothels to marry into wealthy families; it was only in the mid-to-late period that the monsters and demons of mandatory chastity arches and foot-binding began to emerge.

"Do you like them?"

Qiu Fu wiped his mouth and replied, "Reporting to the Commander, this subordinate truly likes these young ladies."

Zhu Shuang laughed. "If the officers in the army fancy them, they are free to pursue them. But if anyone dares to use force, they can look forward to being castrated and spending the rest of their lives serving me."

Qiu Fu shuddered. If anyone else had made such a threat, it might have been mere posturing, but with Zhu Shuang, he always delivered ten times the intensity of his words, never offering a discount.

Amidst the chorus of thanks from the courtesans, Zhu Shuang boarded his carriage. No sooner had he pulled back the curtain to enter than he found Zhang Hongqiao hunched awkwardly in a corner. His eyes scanned her like an X-ray, revealing a slight bulge at the hem of her skirt and a small mound rising near her lower abdomen.

Did she get pregnant suddenly? No, that was not it.

He said coldly, "Lift up your skirt."

Zhang Hongqiao shook her head like a rattle, looking like a startled deer. "No! If you dare to touch me, I will scream that you are harassing me."

Zhu Shuang’s eyes turned red. "I order you to lift your skirt."

Clutching her legs tightly, Zhang Hongqiao cried out, "I won't! Just kill me if you want!"

Zhu Shuang sneered, "Then I have no choice but to use force."

With that, he lunged forward like a starving wolf. Outside, Ma Sanbao, who was driving, tactfully pulled the curtain shut.

A while later, Zhang Hongqiao’s outer garments had been stripped away, leaving her in only her undergarments. Her hair was disheveled, her ornaments askew, her makeup ruined, and tear tracks streaked her face. Pointing a finger at him, she said indignantly, "I am going to Yingtian Prefecture to beat the drum of grievances! You raped me!"

Zhu Shuang, currently hugging a massive sandalwood box with great satisfaction, was unimpressed. "Don't talk nonsense. Be careful, or I’ll report you for sexual harassment, coveting my beauty as you are."

As long as my mental gymnastics are fast enough, the "feminist" backlash can never catch me.

This box, inlaid with gold wire, kingfisher feathers, and pearls and gemstones arranged in a large peony pattern, was clearly the work of a master craftsman. The box alone was worth a thousand taels of silver.

When he opened it, Zhu Shuang’s eyes practically turned into copper coins.

Good grief, a legendary golden haul. The bottom of the box was lined with a thick layer of gold leaves, at least two inches deep, with ten ingots of horseshoe gold and a pile of gold nuggets heaped on top. In the Ming Dynasty, one tael was 37 grams and one catty was 600 grams. This chest of gold weighed over a hundred catties—a full two thousand taels. No wonder she hid it so well.

Zhu Shuang glanced at her slender arms and legs. He thought to himself, "I huff and puff carrying a hundred pounds of rice, yet a girl in black silk and a JK skirt weighing a hundred pounds makes me move with the agility of a master. The old lechers never lied to me."

Zhang Hongqiao, sobbing as she put her clothes back on, said aggrievedly, "That was my dowry, saved over ten years. Can you return it to me?"

Zhu Shuang, being a "gentleman," righteously refused. "Where did you get so much money? This is clearly ill-gotten wealth. I shall keep it for you for safekeeping and return it once the investigation is complete."

Zhang Hongqiao was speechless. In all her life, she had never seen such a shameless person—and a Prince at that. She could only sob, "Two hundred taels for one song, four hundred for one dance. It was all earned, dance by dance, song by song, until my fingers and feet were worn raw."

Zhu Shuang remarked in wonder, "Is the service industry this lucrative?" The purchasing power of one tael of silver was roughly equivalent to two thousand yuan in the future; a single performance fee of four hundred thousand, and eight hundred thousand for a dance—good heavens.

It was even more profitable than the kickbacks I took in my past life as a "philanthropist."

Zhang Hongqiao muttered, "I am a high-class courtesan, and it is only because I became famous in the north over the past two years that I could command such prices. If I were at the Qinhuai River, I’d be lucky to get a fraction of that."

Zhu Shuang understood what she meant. Under the rule of the Old Emperor, most ordinary officials struggled just to eat, let alone invest in the tertiary sector. Even corruption was petty and minor, not to mention the vampiric nature of the Qinhuai River’s official brothel system.

"You female stars make so much money—do you think I have the talent for it?"

He had no choice; Zhu Shuang was desperate for funds. Compulsory education for just one city would burn through half his treasury, not to mention the relief for refugees, military expansion, and the construction of concrete roads—every single one was an astronomical figure.

Zhang Hongqiao let out a scoff of exasperated laughter. "You? Even if you worked as a masseur in a house of ill repute, they’d say your frame is too small."

Zhu Shuang puffed out his chest. "I am a seven-foot man of rare distinction and fine appearance. What is wrong with me?"

Zhang Hongqiao pointed to the two horns on his head. "You might make a decent actor, perhaps playing the Dragon King in 'Minister Wei’s Dream Execution of the Jinghe Dragon King'."

Zhu Shuang was speechless. He looked at her heaving chest and asked greedily, "Let me take a look."

Zhang Hongqiao blushed deeply and spat, "You dirty lecher!"

Zhu Shuang said sternly, "I know you’ve hidden more things. I’ll just look, I promise I won't touch."

Zhang Hongqiao, on the verge of tears, pulled a gilded jewelry box from her bodice. Zhu Shuang felt the box, sniffed it, and instinctively said, "Why is it warm and smells like milk?"

When he opened the box to find nothing but jewelry, he lost interest. In these chaotic times, gold and silver were precious, but jewelry was hard to liquidate and not worth much.

Zhang Hongqiao pulled her collar tight, her face as red as a cloth, shyly asking, "Those are the jewels my mother left me. Can you give them back?"

Zhu Shuang immediately placed the box in her hands. She tucked it into her sleeve, then, seeing Zhu Shuang’s lingering gaze, moved it into her bosom for safekeeping.

Watching her chest act like a magic trick, Zhu Shuang was speechless. "You female stars really have a heavy burden of image. Where is the trust between people?"

Zhang Hongqiao pointed to the sandalwood box, pleading for compromise. "That is my dowry. If it’s gone, how can I ever marry? Your Highness, have mercy, and this concubine will offer incense to your longevity plaque every day."

Zhu Shuang smacked his lips. "Then don't marry. How about I provide for you?"

Zhang Hongqiao gestured to his falling-apart, paint-chipped carriage and his two scrawny horses. "A single gold leaf of mine could buy a brand-new carriage with three horses. You’re so poor you’ve turned to highway robbery—how can you provide for me?"

Zhu Shuang didn't even lift his eyelids. "You go to work and perform, and I’ll provide for you."

Zhang Hongqiao was used to dealing with high-ranking officials and polite noblemen; such a shameless, vulgar person truly shattered her worldview. Her "idol filter" was smashed to pieces. She couldn't believe that just a few days ago, she had been a fan of this very man.

Clutching her chest and leaning against the carriage wall, she cried, "How is my life as Hongqiao so bitter?"

Zhu Shuang said coldly, "That’s enough. You’ve only lost a tiny bit of filthy lucre, yet you’ve easily gained the most precious thing in the world: freedom. Do you understand? Freedom is priceless."

Infuriated, Zhang Hongqiao turned into a powerhouse, lifting the heavy sandalwood box high above her head, ready to smash it onto Zhu Shuang’s skull.