Volume Two: The Noble and the Base Chapter Fourteen: True Thoughts

Zhao Jian and his companions left, their minds tangled with conflicting emotions. No sooner had they departed than a small door beside the side hall opened, and Huang Jin emerged, similarly burdened with doubts.

He had overheard the entire conversation, comprehending it yet somehow still feeling unclear. At this moment, he turned to his son: “Ming’er, what exactly is going on here?”

Huang Ming did not conceal anything. He recounted all that he had not had time to explain earlier—the events of the previous night at the Pleasure Pavilion, the rivalry with Yang Dun, and how he had bested him not with poetry but with a strategic plan.

After hearing his son’s explanation, Huang Jin was utterly stunned, uncertain whether he should feel proud or worried. For a long moment, this seasoned grand eunuch, who always handled matters with ease before the Emperor, simply pointed at Huang Ming and said, “You... cough... How do you come up with so many peculiar ideas?”

“And another thing, why do you need so much silver? Isn’t the fifty thousand taels I gave you enough?”

“Fifty thousand is more than enough,” Huang Ming replied candidly. “My intention in cooperating with them is not for the money.”

“Then what is it for?” Huang Jin pressed.

“Connections,” Huang Ming smiled. “Father, you must see that whether it is the Pleasure Pavilion, the Gentle Retreat, or those other establishments outside the official jurisdiction but thriving in the capital, they all have powerful patrons behind them—sometimes even directly controlled by nobility.”

Huang Jin nodded, understanding his son’s intentions. “You wish to use this opportunity to forge relationships and make friends with those people?”

“That’s right. Father, think about it. In Beijing, without sufficient connections and backing, can I really remain safe? To say nothing else, in just a few months here, I’ve already been imprisoned by the military authorities twice.

“And that’s only because my status remains that of a mere student at the Imperial Academy, and you are constantly in the palace. Even if you want to protect me, distance makes it difficult. Both times, Huang Bingkun arrived just in time to help, but accidents can always happen. If I want to truly protect myself, I need to build up my reputation and influence. Bringing Qi Changfeng to my side was one arrangement; establishing ties with the real power brokers is another.”

Huang Jin looked at his son with a complex expression, realizing how deeply he had thought things through, and that he had underestimated the situation. “You’ve considered more thoroughly than I. If you believe this is beneficial, then go ahead—your father will not hinder you!”

“Thank you, Father!” Huang Ming expressed his sincere gratitude.

He genuinely respected Huang Jin, for everything he enjoyed now was possible only because of him. What made it even more remarkable was that his father lacked the typical lofty attitude many parents had toward their children; he listened to his son’s thoughts and opinions and wholeheartedly supported him. Such a father was rare not only in the Ming Dynasty but even centuries later would be an extraordinary exception.

Huang Jin smiled, “You are my son—what else can I do but support you? Still, I must ask, is your plan truly feasible?”

“Of course,” Huang Ming replied. “Back at the Imperial Academy, when I heard Xu Qingzhi and the others recount the history of the Flower Queen contests, I began considering how to change their dull and rigid format.”

Without any reservation, Huang Ming carefully explained the specific strategies behind the Flower Queen competition that Zhao Jian and his companions had been so eager for.

“The previous contests were certainly lively, but to my mind, they were merely internal competition—each establishment vying for attention, spending lavishly, yet attracting only a limited audience.

“As for the rivalry between the Flower Queens, it was even simpler. With little difference in appearance, the only things to compete on were who had fresher poetry or could set it to music, or who had learned some new talent, like a dance or a musical instrument.

“It’s not that such contests lack appeal. The first time one witnesses so many beauties displaying their talents, one is indeed dazzled and willing to spend to support a favored lady. But after a year, two years, five or ten years... with the same contests, even as the people change, the novelty fades. For seasoned patrons, these things have become ordinary and fail to excite any interest.”

Huang Jin nodded in strong agreement, then smiled awkwardly. His own position seemed wholly unrelated to such matters, and now it was his son explaining the intricacies of the Flower Queen contest—it felt even stranger.

Huang Ming, oblivious to the oddity, continued, “So I thought of encouraging them to make changes. The various establishments could shift from competing to cooperating, working together to make this grand event successful and expand the contest—so to speak, turn the cake into a feast.

“In my proposal, I suggested giving each Flower Queen a distinct personality—I call it a persona.”

“How so?” Huang Jin’s curiosity was piqued.

“For example, if Zi Yun from the Pleasure Pavilion is gentle and graceful, let her be presented as the affectionate elder sister—her attire, speech, and behavior should all reflect this, and everyone should address her as such.

“Then there’s Hong Ying, who seems rather aloof—she could be shaped into the persona of an ‘ice beauty,’ never showing favor to anyone. Even if wealthy young men pursue her or offer fortunes to redeem her, she remains unmoved.

“With stories like these, the establishments could stage performances together, or simply maintain these personas in daily life so that the entire city knows who each Flower Queen is. Naturally, men who are drawn to certain traits will flock to them.

“Father, you may not realize it, but when men desire women—especially those outside their marriage—it is often driven by particular preferences or quirks, such as... well...”

Huang Ming, excited as he spoke, noticed his father watching him with an odd expression and realized something was amiss.

“Ahem...”

Both father and son coughed awkwardly and laughed.

Then Huang Jin said, “Since you’ve thought it all through, I have nothing to worry about. Do as you have planned.

“If you succeed, all the better—you’ll connect with many of the capital’s elite. If not, it’s just a few tens of thousands of taels lost. With me here, they won’t dare trouble you.”

Huang Ming’s heart warmed at this, and he replied confidently, “Don’t worry, Father. I’ll make this a success!”