Part 17 – Hands Off
It wasn’t so bad, at first.
Entering the teahouse with Lan Sizhui, Jin Ling was greeted by name and title at the door. Even Fairy was welcomed right in as the “Honorable Hound of the Great Sect Leader Jin.” Though Jin Ling hated to admit it, he couldn’t help but be impressed. Clearly that old crane from the dumpling place had acted fast. He must have practically taken wing to spread the word around this swiftly.
The host and a few of his busty, red-lipped workers were all ingratiating smiles and bows as they led Jin Ling and Lan Sizhui to their gleaming table on the upper floor. With even more fanfare, the two were seated. Almost as an afterthought, the tea was poured. The host left them to it then. Bowing all the while, he backed away, somehow not managing to run into anyone or anything in the noisy, crowded place. Jin Ling found himself impressed yet again.
But the painted ladies remained. On the narrow benches they sidled right up to Jin Ling and Lan Sizhui. The smell of floral perfume was overwhelming. Beneath this thick odor was the acrid tang of sweat. Feeling sure he’d have a headache soon, Jin Ling rubbed at his nose as one of the whores leaned into him. The soft, doughy mound of her breast crushed to his arm, gliding up and down.
Jin Ling went rigid. “Haa?!”
The sheer indecency of the act galled him to the bone. At his hostile glare, the girl eased off him with a simper. A bit of caked-on white powder clung to his sleeve. Angrily, Jin Ling dusted it off in a fluster. Snatching up his teacup, he darted a glance at Lan Sizhui—and spit out the sip he’d just begun to take.
This was where things started to go decidedly south.
Because he was doing nothing to prevent it, Lan Sizhui’s flowery escort was practically in his lap already. Tittering like an idiot, she fed him little sips of tea from the cup, all while cooing, “Good boy, good boy!” and twining the trailing end of his forehead ribbon around her many-ringed fingers.
Jin Ling gaped. This was obscene! Worse even than that presumptuous breast rub. The porcelain cup creaked in his shaking fist. Red in the face, he leapt to his feet. Beside him on the bench, Fairy let out a sharp bark.
“Hey!” he yelled, pointing. “Hands off that ribbon, you cheap tramp! You’re not allowed to touch it.”
Even beneath all that powder the woman paled, flinching back. The music from the stage nearby drew to a sudden twanging halt. Lan Sizhui smiled mildly.
“It’s all right, Young Master Jin. I don’t mind it.”
Jin Ling glared, fuming. “Well, I do!” Going redder still as Lan Sizhui stared at him, Jin Ling grit out, “…It’s disrespectful. We should leave.”
From out of nowhere, the host of the establishment materialized, placing a few jars of sweet-smelling liquor onto the table. After a moment, Lan Sizhui smiled easily again.
“Please sit, Young Master Jin. We’ve only just arrived.” Nodding toward the liquor, he said brightly, “Won’t you share a drink with me?”
Letting out a terse breath, Jin Ling shook his head. But he sat back down anyway.
Eager as their boss was to smooth things over, the whores poured both he and Lan Sizhui a hefty bowl each. Jin Ling didn’t care much for drinking. It never seemed to do anything except make his temper run hotter than it already did. But at Lan Sizhui’s imploring look, he couldn’t refuse. The liquor was even cloyingly sweeter than it smelled. Jin Ling made a face as he drank it down.
But the murderous tension in him ebbed a little. The annoying sights, sounds and scents of this place mercifully dulled.
For the moment, anyway.
Mo Dao Zu Shi © Mo Xiang Tong Xiu