The General’s Guest

The air within the tent felt as if it had been sucked dry, leaving only the sound of continuous, muffled sobs.

With Yan Bai gone, the male courtesans seemed to have lost their very backbone. Each of them huddled in a corner, their breathing tremulous and faint.

The youngest youth clutched desperately at the corner of his clothes, tears and snot smearing his face as he repeatedly mumbled:

“Young Master Yan will save us… Young Master Yan definitely will…”

Yet, even he didn’t believe his own words. The end of his sentence was swallowed by sobs, fragmented and broken.

Xia Qian sat cross-legged on a straw mat, her back pressed against the tent’s cold canvas.

Outside, the rhythmic footsteps of patrolling female soldiers, mixed with the ‘clank’ of their armor, felt like a dull knife scraping against her eardrums.

She scanned her dejected colleagues, then blew the piece of straw she’d been idly chewing out of her mouth. She nudged an empty ceramic pot with her foot.

“Hey, I mean, haven’t any of you thought about escaping?”

The crying ceased abruptly.

Several pairs of swollen, red eyes stared at her in unison, as if she had just told a joke from the underworld in a bizarre dialect.

“Run? Run from what?”

The oldest male courtesan wiped his face, his voice hoarse as if abraded by sandpaper.

“The military camp is surrounded by guards, a sentry every three steps, a post every five. Forget people; even a rat trying to sneak out would get its tail pulled bald!”

He pointed a trembling finger towards the tent’s exterior, swallowing hard, a distinct gulp echoing in his throat. His fingertip quivered like a withered leaf in the wind.

“Even if we somehow managed to climb over the fence, those female soldiers—they could freeze a person into an ice sculpture with a casual mystic art, then shatter them with a whip and burn them as firewood!”

Xia Qian scratched the back of her head.

“Wouldn’t that still be better than lying flat, getting your waist broken, and waiting for death?”

“Better?”

Another male courtesan, thin as a bamboo pole, scoffed coldly.

“Last year, a young one named Xiao Zhi was brought into the camp. He tried to pry open a window and escape in the middle of the night. The next day, he was hung on the flagpole, dried like cured meat—all his limbs gone, just a bare torso left!”

He ripped open his collar, revealing a gruesome whip scar beneath his collarbone.

“See this? This is what I got for asking, ‘How did he die?’, after those female soldiers overheard me!”

The tent plunged into a deathly silence once more.

Xia Qian stared at the scar, her stomach churning. In this cursed place, ‘escape’ and ‘suicide’ were essentially synonymous, differing only in the speed of death.

To be subjected to the constant demands of so many soldiers in the camp, even a demon bull king would struggle to endure such relentless ‘milking’.

Even if one possessed a spiritual spring capable of healing physical wounds, it would be useless. Most male courtesans brought here ended up dying in this very place, never making it back.

Moreover, spiritual springs with superior restorative effects were exclusively provided to men possessing the ‘Spirit Cauldron’ aptitude; ordinary individuals were simply not qualified to use them.

The tent flap was suddenly thrown open. Two female soldiers strode in, carrying a wooden chest. When the lid was flung open, the vibrant, multicolored sheer garments and ornate skirts inside almost blinded them.

“Hurry up and get ready!”

The lead female soldier kicked the wooden chest, sending the lid flying open to reveal rouge, powder, lip balm, and fragrant pastes.

“A word of warning: the General will be entertaining guests tonight. In half an incense stick’s time, the adults will come to choose. If anyone is disheveled and offends a noble’s eye—”

She drew the short knife from her waist and plunged its tip into a tent pole.

“—this old woman will personally ‘groom’ them!”

No sooner had the threatening female soldier departed than the tent erupted into chaos. The male courtesans, who had been sprawled like mud, now pounced on the wooden chest like starving tigers.

One snatched a skirt sash, another grabbed a box of scented powder, resembling a flock of quails fighting over scraps.

“This ribbon is mine!”

“Let go! I clearly touched this eyebrow pencil first!”

“Ahhh, don’t step on my hair!”

Xia Qian, surprised, instinctively retreated further into the corner.

It wasn’t that she was being aloof; it was simply that the aesthetic of those ‘trophies’ was too shocking. Fluorescent pink belly wraps paired with emerald green shawls, and golden-threaded peony skirts adorned with jingling silver bells.

This wasn’t attire for an attendant; it was a walking disco ball!

“What are you spacing out for? Put this on quickly! I secretly hid it; it’s much better than what those fools are fighting over!”

The older male courtesan had sidled up to her at some point, pressing a mottled white long robe into her arms.

Seeing Xia Qian hesitate, he exhaled a long, heartfelt sigh.

“Newcomer, you really need to be more mindful. If you’re chosen by the officials later, it’s nothing more than accompanying them for drinks, singing songs, and sharing a night of passion. No matter how wild it gets, it’ll only be one or two people on you. Grit your teeth, endure the night, and you can go back—consider yourself incredibly lucky!

“But if you’re not chosen…” He shivered at the images he dared not fully form in his mind. “Those garrison soldiers in the camp aren’t refined guests; they don’t care if you’re a Spirit Cauldron or a useless waste. Once they’re done playing with you, they’ll just toss you into the mass grave in the valley!”

Xia Qian couldn’t help but offer a wry smile. This ‘senior’ from the pleasure quarter was certainly warm-hearted.

But then again…

She thoughtfully gazed at the fabric she held in her hand. A smile she hadn’t even noticed spread across her lips, and a flash of brilliance flickered in her eyes.

Hehe!

As the moon first ascended, Yan Bai, having been taken away separately, followed Han Jue to the central military camp.

Inside the camp, lanterns blazed brightly. The familiar red-roofed main tent lay ahead—the General’s own quarters.

Han Jue dismissed the surrounding guards with a glance, then lifted the tent flap and led Yan Bai directly inside, announcing in a deep voice:

“Reporting, General. By your command, the male courtesans required for the banquet have been brought from Willow Lane…”

Behind a tall, white silk screen, positioned between the commander’s table and the tent entrance, the silhouette of the person seated in the main chair stirred slightly.

However, there was no immediate response from behind the screen.

Han Jue raised her voice slightly, adding:

“…Additionally, Young Master Yan Bai requests an audience.”

“—Oh?”

No sooner had the words left her lips than the sound of a chair being pushed back echoed from behind the screen. A tall woman emerged, gracefully stepping around the partition.

Her fiery red hair was tied into a high ponytail, cascading casually down her back, making her resemble a languid lioness. Beneath her bronze skin, the muscles of her arms subtly bulged, the warm candlelight outlining the slender, flowing contours of her physique, showcasing a delightfully athletic figure.

A short, fitted inner battle armor clung to her chest and waist, compressing her already ample bosom into an even more spectacular display, perfectly blending fierce power with voluptuous femininity.

Facing the awe-inspiring General, Yan Bai bowed respectfully, his wide sleeves falling like flowing clouds.

“General Long Yan, it has been a long time. I trust you have been well recently?”

“Hahaha, Young Master Yan, it truly is you! It’s been too long!”

Long Yan slapped her forehead, as if confirming the person before her was real, then burst into hearty laughter.

“Since our last farewell, I’ve thought of you often. Your exquisite sword dance back then was truly captivating! It seems I’m fortunate enough to feast my eyes upon it again today.”

Yan Bai modestly tilted his head.

“Yan Bai’s sword dance is merely a display of trivial flourishes. To be held in such high regard by the General is my honor.”

“Always with these tiresome formalities! It’s truly exhausting! That’s precisely why I dislike dealing with those so-called scholars and refined gentlemen. I tell you, Young Master Yan Bai, you absolutely must not always speak in such roundabout ways!”

Long Yan clapped Yan Bai on the shoulder, nearly knocking him into the carpet.

“Come, come! We have a distinguished guest today, so you can help me put on a good show—”

She abruptly threw open the inner tent curtain, her booming voice making dust flutter down from the tent ceiling.

“Boss Jiang! Look who I’ve dragged in!”

In the flickering candlelight, seated beside the commander’s table, a woman in a black cloak smiled faintly, nodding. Her silver hair cascaded like a waterfall, her jade eyes resembled deep pools, and a jade thumb ring on her finger glowed with a subtle light.

“General Long’s hospitality is indeed surprising.”

Yan Bai’s pupils contracted slightly. The woman rose, gracefully curtsying.

“Jiang Buwei, a merchant from Wei Yang Southern Empire traveling through Western Huan Kingdom. A pleasure to meet you, Young Master.”