Chapter 200

Unable to get any more useful information from Luo Yuanming, Ning Ning recalled that Tian Xianzi and the others had all gone to Hundred Flower Deep after getting drunk.

She speculated that the wine must have contained not only intoxicating substances but also some kind of soul-drawing incense.

Therefore, the most likely place for Meng Jue to be was still in the Hundred Flower Deep, with its many alleyways.

Worried that he might also be in trouble, she and Pei Ji headed back to Hundred Flower Deep.

He Zhizhou, too embarrassed to set foot there, took on the task of gathering intelligence and collecting clues from the townspeople.

“The previous City Lord’s wife died mysteriously, and the current City Lord coughed up blood today,” Ning Ning anxiously analyzed, trying to calm herself.

“This clearly isn’t right. Could the person behind this be trying to eliminate everyone?”

Moreover, the City Lord’s reaction was strange.

Despite coughing up blood, he still trusted Luan Niang completely, as if under some spell.

As evening approached and the sky darkened, the renowned Hundred Flower Deep gradually revealed its true nature in the shifting light and shadows.

The towering pavilions gleamed like jade in the lamplight, with strings of lanterns creating a continuous glow. The reddish candlelight permeated every corner of the air, mingling with the laughter of men and women, accompanied by the tinkling of bells at the eaves, like the sound of a babbling brook.

Still worried about Zheng Weiqi, Ning Ning had no interest in the scenery and was thinking about how to find Meng Jue when she suddenly saw two figures arguing in the distance.

The man appeared drunk, forcibly pulling on a young girl’s sleeve.

The girl looked about fifteen or sixteen, her face flushed red as she struggled to break free.

“Let go of me!”

The girl’s voice trembled with anger.

“I’ll call for help!”

The man laughed angrily.

“Pretending to be high and mighty? On this street, there’s nothing but low-quality goods. You’re lucky I’m even interested in you—”

Before he could finish, a fierce sword energy flashed behind him, as swift and bright as a star, striking the back of his neck and knocking him unconscious.

The girl stumbled back in shock but then looked up quickly, seeing the two of them, “Thank you…”

She lacked spiritual energy and couldn’t tell who had used the sword technique.

“No need to thank us,” Ning Ning said, noticing the girl was holding a bundle of scrolls and painting supplies.

The girl was dressed simply, likely not from a wealthy family that could afford to send a daughter to learn painting. On a busy street like this, she must be selling paintings to make money.

Those who sell paintings always pay attention to the movements of everyone around them. Understanding this, Ning Ning asked, “Have you seen a tall, handsome young man dressed in white with a sword at his waist? He should appear drunk and disoriented.”

She didn’t have high hopes but was surprised when the girl widened her eyes and scrutinized them.

“Who are you to him?”

=====

“My name is Ah Hui. That young man was found by my grandmother at our door.”

The girl led them through the long alleyways, deeper into Hundred Flower Deep. The further they went, the dimmer the bright lights became, as if a grand fireworks display was gradually fading, leaving only a few scattered lights swaying above the rooftops.

Ning Ning took a deep breath, unable to speak as she witnessed the scene.

Deeper in Hundred Flower Deep, it was a different world from the lavish, extravagant exterior.

Walls crumbled, houses became smaller, and the long strings of lanterns vanished, leaving only a few lonely lights outlining the crowded, dilapidated buildings. Each one was hunched and small, like dying giants crawling on the ground.

Moving forward, there was no more revelry or laughter, only the smell of food, smoke, potholes, and peeling walls. People sat in their doorways, watching them with dark, deep eyes, like murky swamps.

It resembled a slum.

The house Ah Hui brought them to was unremarkable, hidden in the shadows. When the door creaked open, they saw five or six figures inside.

The narrow, dim room was crowded around a table with girls of various ages. They looked delighted to see Ah Hui return but fell silent at the sight of the strangers.

“They’re all like me, children my grandmother took in,” Ah Hui explained softly. “Girls are often abandoned in our area.”

“Where’s the young man from this morning?” she asked the girls at the table.

A girl of about ten answered softly, “He’s sleeping in the room.”

“Visitors?” A frail old woman emerged from a side room, looking ill. Her face was gaunt, and she leaned weakly against the wall. Her eyes were cloudy, like murky water, reflecting dim shadows.

Ah Hui hurried to support her.

“Grandma! Why did you get out of bed?”

Ning Ning smiled politely and said, “Grandma, we are from the same sect as the man you took in this morning. We came to find him.”

“Oh—that child.”

The old woman nodded, still leaning against the wall.

“Follow me.”

The house wasn’t big and was filled mostly with girls. The bed was small, and Meng Jue, being tall, had to curl up to fit, giving him an unexpectedly cute and innocent look.

A look that didn’t suit him at all.

“Thank you!” Ning Ning sighed in relief, finally feeling at ease.

“Grandma, are you raising all those girls by yourself?”

The old woman seemed hard of hearing, taking a while to understand Ning Ning’s question before smiling, “Yes.”

She glanced outside, speaking quietly so the girls wouldn’t hear, “You may not know, but in our area, girls are often abandoned. I can’t do much; just sell paintings on the street to earn enough for their meals.”

But how much can you earn from selling paintings?

Ning Ning looked at the patches on her thin clothes, feeling a pang of sorrow.

“Unfortunately, I’m old, my eyesight is failing, and I can’t remember things. Now that I’m sick, Ah Hui has to sell paintings… I don’t know what will happen to these girls after I’m gone.”

Ah Hui gently held her wrist and said, “Grandma, don’t say that.”

Ning Ning hesitated, “Do they… have nowhere else to go?”

“Where in the world isn’t like this?”

The old woman’s eyes, clouded with age, were filled with sorrow.

“Women are born lowly, merely appendages to men. If they were boys, they might find work at construction sites or docks. But who would want frail little girls for such physical labor? Lives as insignificant as ants, as insignificant as ants. My worthless life—”

She finished speaking and coughed heavily. When she lifted her eyes again, she looked at Ning Ning with some confusion and asked Ah Hui, “Who are these two?”

“They are friends of the young man from this morning.”

Ah Hui patiently explained, then turned to Ning Ning and said, “I’m sorry, grandmother often forgets things.”

This was a symptom of Alzheimer’s disease.

“Oh, oh.”

The old woman nodded blankly and coughed a few more times.

“I must return to my room to continue painting… while I can still see, I need to make more money for you. If I were to pass away, you wouldn’t even have food to eat. How could that be?”

The young girl unconsciously tightened her grip on the old woman’s arm.

Ah Hui remained silent, unwilling to tell her grandmother that her eyesight was deteriorating and that her paintings had become distorted and indecipherable. She couldn’t bear to inform her that the paintings hadn’t sold for days, even though she toiled through the night despite her illness.

It was all in vain.

Struggling and helplessness seemed to be the predetermined fate of most impoverished women.

In Luan City, frequent murders and the disappearance of several young girls remained unresolved.

In the Hundred Flowers Deep, courtesans lived lives of feigned happiness, their words insincere, their fates as fleeting as dandelion seeds.

Trapped in the mire, with no way out and no means to resist, they were forced to accept a life that could be seen through at a glance—

But was resistance truly impossible?