The night of the full moon.
Huanhua Water Pavilion.
Zhou Ping'an held an invitation and entered the building again.
He moved as if entering his own home, familiar with every turn, he headed straight for the rear garden.
Along the way, the courtesans and servants who saw him in his pale green robe, with a saber slung at his waist, showed no fear but rather greeted him with giggling smiles.
"Ping'an Lang, you are here at the Washing Flowers Pavilion to see Sister Qing again today," one teased, "Aren't you tired of listening to that qin music? Why not come to my Embroidery Pavilion for a sword dance exchange."
"Next time, next time."
Zhou Ping'an gave them a polite but slightly embarrassed bow as he gently declined.
A couple drumbeats sounded.
A figure in a red dress appeared at the window to the left, where someone from the Embroidery Pavilion partially hid their face, revealing an astonishingly supple figure.
