Chapter 220 Yin Yang Harmony Cult
The black Ford turned out of the alley and drove along the street in the south of the city towards the Qinhuai River.
Jiangning is much quieter at night than during the day. There are fewer pedestrians on the streets, and most of the shops are closed, with only a few restaurants and teahouses still lit up.
Dim streetlights hung from the utility poles along the roadside, their light dim and yellowish, illuminating only a short distance.
After driving for about 15 minutes, we could see the Qinhuai River in the distance.
The banks of the river were brightly lit, with strings of red lanterns hanging under the eaves of the pavilions, their reflections shimmering on the water.
Several painted boats glided slowly across the river, carrying faint sounds of string and wind instruments and women's laughter, which drifted in the night breeze.
Sixi Hall is located on the north bank of the Qinhuai River. It is a three-story wooden pavilion with upturned eaves and two huge red lanterns hanging at the entrance. The plaque in the middle reads "Sixi Hall" in gold.
The brushstrokes are vigorous and powerful, clearly the work of a master calligrapher.
Several black cars were parked at the entrance, and a few rickshaws were waiting to pick up passengers. The rickshaw drivers squatted against the wall, smoking and chatting.
Old Liu parked the car, and Li Jinrong got out, straightened his collar, opened the folding fan, and slowly waved it twice.
"Let's go, it's my treat today, don't try to save me money."
Chen Mo got out of the car, put his hands in his pockets, and looked up at the signboard of Sixitang.
The Wanhua Tower and Yanzhi Pavilion in Jinshi, and the Sixi Hall in Jiangning are all very similar.
Tie Kun got out of the passenger seat, looking quite composed.
He's traveled all over the country for over twenty years; what kind of situation hasn't he seen?
The waiter at the door, with sharp eyes, spotted three people getting out of the car and hurried over with a beaming smile: "Gentlemen, please come in! Do you know any girls?"
"No, this is my first time here." Li Jinrong took out a few silver dollars from his pocket and casually tossed them to the waiter. "Find a private room and call a few girls over, the best of the best."
The waiter took the silver dollars, his eyes lighting up, and nodded repeatedly: "This way, gentlemen, please. It's a quiet, scenic seat on the second floor overlooking the river."
The three men followed the waiter upstairs.
The interior of Sixi Hall is even more magnificent than the exterior. Upon entering, you are greeted by a large mahogany screen carved with a pattern of a hundred birds paying homage to the phoenix, its lacquer surface gleaming.
Beyond the screen was a spacious hall with a dozen or so round mahogany tables covered with embroidered tablecloths. Each table had a vase of fresh flowers and a bronze candlestick.
In front of the main hall is a small stage covered with a red carpet, and behind it is a huge gold-leaf screen painted with portraits of ladies.
The lobby was already quite full of guests, mostly businessmen in long gowns and officials in suits.
There were also a few officers in military uniforms, with pistols at their waists, surrounded by two or three girls, drinking and playing drinking games, making quite a scene.
The air was thick with the smell of smoke and women's perfume, making people feel somewhat drowsy.
The sounds of string and wind instruments drifted from upstairs and downstairs, mixed with women's laughter and men's toasts.
The waiter led them up to the second floor and stopped at the door of a private room at the very back. "Gentlemen, please. This is the best private room in our Sixi Hall. Open the window and you'll see the Qinhuai River. The view is simply unparalleled."
The private room wasn't large, but it was exquisitely decorated.
A round mahogany table, several armchairs, an embroidered tablecloth on the table, a set of blue and white porcelain tea set and a pot of warmed yellow wine.
A traditional Chinese ink painting of landscapes hangs on the wall, depicting the night view of the Qinhuai River, and is inscribed with "The Twelve Beauties of Jinling".
In the corner stood a screen, behind which was a soft couch covered with brocade bedding.
The three people sat down at the table.
The waiter brought tea and fruit platters, and then brought out a roster with the girls' names and introductions written on it, along with small black-and-white photos.
Li Jinrong took the booklet, flipped through a few pages, and his eyes lit up.
"This one's good, this one's fine too... Oh, they're all good."
Tie Kun sat down beside him, slowly sipping his tea, glancing at the booklet. "Mr. Li, you can decide. I'm easy to please."
Chen Mo leaned back in his chair, took a peanut from the fruit plate, and popped it into his mouth.
The waiter soon brought in four girls.
The leader was a woman in her early twenties, wearing a pale yellow cheongsam, with a pretty face, and holding a pipa in her arms.
Three young women followed behind, each with their own unique charm.
"Gentlemen, these are some of the best young ladies from our Sixi Hall."
The waiter introduced them with a smile, "This is Miss Wanjun, who plays the pipa the best. This is Miss Yulan, who can sing Kunqu opera. This is Miss Haitang, who is proficient in poetry and songs."
"This is Miss Peony..."
"Alright, alright, stay here." Li Jinrong waved his hand, his gaze sweeping over the girls' faces. "Miss Wanjun, sit here."
Wan Jun smiled slightly, sat down next to Li Jinrong while holding her pipa, and poured him a cup of wine.
Magnolia sat down next to Tie Kun, Begonia sat down next to Chen Mo, and Peony served wine and tea to them.
Haitang sat down next to Chen Mo, about to speak, when he spoke first: "Can you sing?"
Haitang paused for a moment, then smiled and said, "Yes, what would you like to hear, Master?"
Haitang paused for a moment, then smiled and said, "Yes, what would you like to hear, Master?"
"Anything is fine, just sing what you're good at."
Chen Mo picked up his teacup, raised it towards her, and smiled faintly.
Haitang felt relieved. Although this man looked cold, he was actually quite easygoing.
She cleared her throat and softly hummed a Jiangnan folk song, her voice gentle and melodious.
Wanjun tuned the pipa strings, and with a pluck of her slender fingers, a clear pipa sound rang out in the private room.
She played "Spring River Flower Moon Night," her fingering skillful and her tone clear and crisp, intertwining with Haitang's singing and drifting in the night breeze.
Chen Mo held his teacup, listening to the music, his gaze lingering on Haitang's face for a moment.
When the other person approached him just now, he smelled not only the scent of cosmetics, but also a very faint, cool, and strange odor.
There was a very faint gray patch between her eyebrows, not a bruise, but a mark left on her face from long-term practice of some kind of yin-attribute cultivation technique.
Chen Mo had seen this approach in the files of the Inspection Bureau.
Yin-Yang School.
Or it could be called the Yin-Yang Harmony Cult; the name is different, but the methods are largely the same.
Using sexual relations or physical contact as a medium, they absorb yang energy to replenish yin, steal essence, and nourish themselves.
Those with deep cultivation can make the men they are being harassed completely unaware, thinking that they have been indulging in too much wine and women and that they will be fine after a good night's sleep.
Those with shallow cultivation and crude techniques will severely damage the vitality of the men they pluck, causing them to fall ill for ten days to half a month at best, and even shortening their lifespan at worst.
Chen Mo glanced at Wan Jun and Yu Lan again.
Wan Jun sat next to Li Jinrong. Although she was elegant, her breathing rhythm was off.
Inhaling deeply and exhaling shallowly, each breath is half a beat slower than normal; this is a characteristic of practicing a certain breathing technique.
Yulan leaned against Tiekun, smiling sweetly.
Peony didn't seem unusual at all. A quick scan with my divine sense revealed her to be an ordinary person, probably a real courtesan in Sixi Hall, used to cover her tracks.
Sixi Hall, on the surface, is a brothel on the banks of the Qinhuai River, but in reality, it is probably a stronghold of the Hehuan Sect in Jiangning.
Chen Mo picked up his teacup, took a sip, and already knew what was going on.
They just didn't say it outright.
This has nothing to do with him.
But Li Jinrong has to keep an eye on things.
"Miss Begonia".
Chen Mo put down his teacup, took a lychee from the fruit plate, and slowly peeled it. "How many years has your Sixi Hall been open?"
Haitang thought for a moment and said, "I heard it's been around for decades. I arrived late, so I'm not too sure. But my sisters told me that Sixi Hall has always been very famous in Jiangning, and many high-ranking officials and nobles love to come here."
"Oh." Chen Mo nodded and handed her the peeled lychee. "Try it."
Haitang's eyelashes trembled slightly. She looked down at the lychee, then looked up at Chen Mo. She parted her lips slightly and took the lychee into her mouth, her lips inadvertently touching her fingertips.
A soft, warm touch, with a touch of... .
As she held the lychee in her mouth, she lightly flicked her tongue and quickly licked Chen Mo's fingertip.
A slight tingling sensation in my fingertips.
Chen Mo glanced down at her.
Haitang was biting into a lychee, her eyes crinkling with a triumphant smile.
Unbeknownst to her, when Chen Mo fed her lychees, the Yin energy had already silently emerged from his fingertips and quietly circled her body.
There was no ill intent; I was just testing her cultivation level.
The yin energy within Haitang's body wasn't strong, roughly equivalent to the beginner level of Qi and Blood Martial Arts, but her foundation was very stable, clearly indicating that she had been specially trained.
The art of sexual enhancement relies heavily on a solid foundation; an unstable foundation will backfire and harm oneself.
The person behind Sixi Hall must be highly skilled to have trained her to this extent.
Chen Mo withdrew his Yin energy, his expression returning to normal.
Wan Jun's pipa music continued, and Li Jinrong was clinking glasses with Tie Kun. No one noticed the small action in the corner.
But was I being teased?
Chen Mo looked at her for two seconds, then reached out and put his arm around her waist. His palm was placed on her side, and through the thin fabric of the cheongsam, he could feel the softness of her waist and her slight body temperature.
Haitang's body stiffened for a moment, then softened, and she leaned into his arms.
"Master..." Haitang's voice was so soft it could melt water, tinged with a hint of coquettishness, "What are you doing..."
"Listen to music."
Chen Mo's tone was calm, but he didn't loosen his grip on her waist, his thumb slowly drawing circles on her side.
Haitang nestled against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, and suddenly felt a strange, inexplicable feeling.
She has met many guests, some impatient, some pretending to be gentlemen, some rude, and some gentle.
But this young man was different; his hands were steady, and his movements as he put his arm around her waist were neither hurried nor awkward.
She looked up at Chen Mo's profile.
The light shone from the side, outlining the clean and sharp lines of his jaw.
"What are you thinking about, Master?" Haitang asked softly.
"I was thinking about the song you just sang," Chen Mo said, glancing down at her. "Sing it again."
Haitang felt a tremor in her heart when he looked at her. His gaze wasn't gentle, but it wasn't cold either; it was just plain and indifferent, yet it made it impossible for her to refuse.
She started singing again, this time a Jiangnan folk song, her voice much softer than before, almost as if she were singing against his chest.
The scent wafted past Chen Mo's collar, carrying the sweet fragrance of lychee.
Chen Mo closed his eyes and gently tapped his fingers on her waist.
Compared to those days of fighting and killing, he still preferred these days of listening to music in brothels, even though the girl in his arms was a bit unruly.
After Wan Jun finished playing a piece, Li Jinrong clapped and cheered, and then asked her to play two more pieces.
The sound of a pipa flowed through the private room, and the night breeze from the Qinhuai River blew in through the window, carrying a faint coolness from the water.
After a few drinks, Li Jinrong's face flushed, and he became more talkative.
Wan Jun was good at handling things, and she would often follow up on his words, making him laugh out loud.
Tie Kun was also drinking. Every time he raised his glass, Yu Lan would unconsciously move closer to him, and her breathing would change slightly, as if she were testing his qi and blood cultivation.
He was a martial artist at the Bronze Skin Realm. When he wasn't fighting, he rarely showed any signs of his martial arts prowess, and ordinary people couldn't tell his level from his appearance.
With Yulan's limited cultivation, trying to extract yang energy from Tiekun was like an ant trying to shake a tree.
Chen Mo did not remind him.
He was looking down at Haitang in his arms. Haitang had finished singing that little tune, and her cheeks were slightly flushed.
There was a faint trace of yin energy that tried to enter his body through the point where the two of them were in contact, but it was all swallowed up by the yin energy.
"Finished singing?" Chen Mo asked.
"I'm done singing." Haitang nodded, looking at him expectantly. "What else would you like to hear, Master?"
Chen Mo picked up another lychee from the fruit plate and slowly peeled it.
This time, he didn't feed it to Haitang; instead, he ate it himself.
The lychee juice burst between his teeth, so sweet it was almost cloying.
After finishing the lychee, he spat the pit into the dish, wiped his hands, and asked, "What's your name?"
"Begonia," Begonia said, "Didn't Master already know?"
I'm asking for your real name.
Haitang's smile paused for a moment, then returned, and she said softly, "Why do you ask this, sir? Haitang is just Haitang, the flower name of Sixi Hall, it sounds quite nice."
Her voice was soft, with a hint of coquettishness, which neither made the guest feel rejected nor did it mean the topic had been turned away.
This is a basic skill in their line of work: to say what should be said and to not miss a single word that shouldn't be said.
Chen Mo's lips curved slightly as he brought them close to the other person's earlobe, almost touching it.
"I'm from the inspection bureau."
Haitang's body stiffened abruptly, her shoulder blades tightening slightly.
Chen Mo could feel her heartbeat suddenly accelerate, like a startled rabbit thrashing wildly in her chest.
"We came to Sixi Hall to catch the demoness."
Haitang didn't speak, her fingers unconsciously clenching his clothes.
"Don't be nervous, it's just a joke."
Haitang was stunned.
She looked at Chen Mo, who was slowly sipping tea with a faint smile on his face. His eyes were as calm as a stagnant pool, revealing nothing about him.
For a moment, it was impossible to tell which of the other person's words were true and which were false.
"Sir, this is not funny. Haitang is timid and can't be frightened."
Her fingers, which had been gripping Chen Mo's clothes, slowly loosened, but her heartbeat hadn't returned to normal. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, trying to make her expression natural again.
"Really?" Chen Mo put down his teacup, looked down at her, and gently patted her cheek. "I see you've got quite the nerve..."