Looking further down, the attire of the two men was anything but ordinary; they each held a paper fan in their hands with such an air that their clothing alone was worth a poor family's annual income.
Moreover, their way of walking, with swagger and at a leisurely pace, lacking any sense of haste, was also characteristic of the wealthy.
The madam only needed to size them up for a moment to be certain—these two had to be young masters accustomed to the finer things; and their high-class brothel, Qi Liu Youlan, was meant to do business with such people, who were the only ones able to patronize a place with its level of expenditure regularly.
So, when Sun Yixie and Huang Donglai leisurely approached the entrance of Qi Liu Youlan, they hadn't even stepped over the threshold when the old madam pounced out like a hungry tiger.
"Hey—yo—"
