I heard a song while traveling in ZhiXia City. The voice was beautiful and in my trance, I almost forgot to write down the lyrics. The following is as close as I can remember:

Hush, my dear, in slumber's embrace,

I'll weave a lullaby's gentle grace.

Amidst the meadow's tranquil space,

Blossoms bloom with serene grace.

Moonlight dances, lending its light,

As they sway in the quiet of night.

Their roots entwine, firm and long,

Seeking the earth, where they belong.

Just as they thrive, in dreams so deep,

Rest now, young Petal, in peaceful sleep.

Close your eyes, my precious delight,

In this enchanted Chamber of the night.

I would like to hear that voice sing again.

— Excerpt from Lost Winds, by an unnamed traveler

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HuaLang Chamber

Molam's body refused to respond. The pain in his neck amplified sharply whenever he tried to move anything below it. After trying different limbs and movements, he decided it made no sense to struggle. He doubted he could overcome the three women even if he somehow regained control over his body. Instead, he resolved to simply watch as the women carried him into HuaLang Chamber.

The first floor of the Chamber assaulted his ears the moment they entered. Raucous laughter, merry cheer, and the sound of clinking cups and tableware almost overwhelmed him. He could smell an incredible mixture of savory foods, floral tea, and intoxicating spirits. Though his vision was more or less fixed at an angle upwards, what he could see included a dizzying sight of tables, full of the aforementioned extravagant foods and alcohol. The place was packed from top to bottom and people wore their best clothes for the first night of the Festival. Not one person noticed that three women had just carried a limp body inside.

The second floor, more quiet, had multiple doors closed in the halls. Molam couldn't see anything from the angle of his head, but he smelled various types of incense as he passed different rooms — warm, woody sandalwood, fresh, floral jasmine, and others he couldn't quite identify. Here, the women stopped momentarily to rearrange his body over two of their shoulders, with the first woman taking a break.

On the next floor, Molam smelled a different scent — oils and a low musk. Moments later, he decided it was the result of lovemaking. Molam had seen the first two floors and began to doubt whether HuaLang Chamber was actually what he had thought it was. So they were still taking him to see their Madam. At the angle they carried his body, he could only see the wooden floor on which they crossed, but he could hear the muffled sounds of pleasure as they passed by various rooms.

The women carried him up to the fourth floor and it seemed to Molam's ears as though all the other sounds had faded. Here, the slow notes of a zither danced in the air, thrumming with a vibrant sense of life before being replaced by another. Molam couldn't tell if the player was practicing their strumming technique or playing an actual melody, but as the women carrying him continued their hurried pace he realized they were getting closer.

Entering what seemed to be a different structure, the women stopped. Based on the sound and echo, Molam could only guess this was where the zither was coming from.

"Madam Scarlette," the three women greeted in unison.

A note danced in the air. A fourth voice spoke, musical and steady. "Is that how we bring in guests?"

"This young master seemed… unaffected by Flo's voice. A needle was necessary before he escalated the situation."

The zither's last note stilled into nothingness.

"Make our guest comfortable."

A chair was pulled up and Molam felt himself flipped over, soft hands holding onto his head so it did not flop around. He found himself face to face with a standing woman, a red veil covering the upper half of her face, exposing only her lips. Silver flowers decorated a waterfall of straight black hair arranged neatly down the left side of her red silk festival clothes, wrapped tightly around her body. The women that had taken him — wait, kidnapped him — stood to the side with their heads bowed, colorful flowers adorning their hair.

"I apologize for such a forceful meeting. My Flowers could do better to remember that the thorny path is a last resort when even rocks can be worn down by gentle water." The veiled woman he assumed to be Madam Scarlette tilted her head. "I wanted to meet the one marked by the Oracle. If you are open to sharing a cup of tea with me after we restore your physical functions, blink twice."

Molam did so without hesitation.

"A quick response." The Madam gestured and one of the women, the one with auburn hair, walked over to him. "I'd be disappointed if you hadn't understood yet, but if you mean to fight afterwards, you'd only make it difficult for yourself."

The auburn-haired woman bent near his ear and whispered, "Sorry about that," pulling the needle out of his neck. Molam grunted; it stung, radiating heat in the area. The feather in his arm guard heated up and the pain receded.

The woman turned back to him with a cloth smelling of alcohol. "We will need to ensure the wound does not fester," she told him while peering at his neck, "or it will… wait. The wound?"

"I'll manage," Molam looked away from the woman's confused face to Madam Scarlette. "May I stand up and stretch? Without… being attacked. I don't fancy my odds at all."

"Well, that answers the question about his aura." She gestured her approval and Molam stood up carefully, ensuring he didn't make any movements that would get him stabbed again. He glanced downwards as he twisted and wiggled parts of his body, mentally checking to see if everything worked. Then he stretched his arms and legs, leaning into the pulled muscles before he sat down again. "Now then. I believe originally, you invited me for tea."

Madam Scarlette laughed, a tinkling laughter she hid behind a hand. "High quality leaves, a pot, and several cups," she commanded, and the others bowed off. She picked up a chair and set it down opposite Molam before arranging herself neatly in the seat.

"Seizing the initiative no matter the circumstances." Her musical voice carried a tone of approval as she nodded slowly. Molam didn't know where to look — she seemed to be looking at him from behind the veil, but the veil's uniform red color made it impossible for him to see her eyes. "A skill I wish my Petals would learn themselves. Most cannot even recognize it. But here I am, playing into your hand and offering you tea."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Molam held out his hands in a disarming gesture. "I've done nothing but ask for what you already offered."

"I see Primrose taught you certain stretches."

The Madam's impassiveness to his statement clued Molam directly into the type of person he was speaking to. Like Primrose, but something about her seemed… elegantly deadlier.

"She delighted herself by being a pain about it," Molam confirmed dryly. Primrose had caught Molam complaining about how reading through all of JiangXi's recovered paperwork was a pain for his back and brought it upon herself to push him through a series of stretches each morning and evening. "And here I thought she was from Teljumaya." Molam stretched his legs, rotating his ankles. "Yet I see much of her influence comes from your establishment."

The Madam didn't speak for some moment, contemplating Molam with her chin resting on one hand. He wondered if she would answer his unasked question, but then her lips curved into a cold smile. "A woman's past is a dangerously private thing to ask for."

"You wound me. I've asked for no such thing." Molam raised his eyebrows as the other women returned, bringing with them the materials to make tea. One brought out a table and neatly arranged a red tablecloth over it as the other two set out the tea set. Molam noticed they did it to the side, to avoid getting in between his conversation with their Madam.

"Of course, of course." Madam Scarlette stood up, gesturing to the other women. They carried the table over, setting it down right in front of Molam as the Madam walked over to the side. She set out a teacup for him and poured fresh hot tea into it with practiced ease before pouring another cup for herself. "Plausible deniability is such a wondrous shield. An unwitting listener could mistake your blithe responses for simple inability to maintain a conversation. And you toe the line well with innocent rudeness — in a way that suits where you want the conversation to go, that is."

Molam said nothing, his thoughts racing but unorganized. Who was this Madam Scarlette? What was she after? It's clear Primrose was somehow connected to these flower-wearing women, but they had forcibly brought him here and he still had no idea what they wanted.

Perhaps most importantly: how dangerous was his situation?

"I take your silence as surprise." Madam Scarlette sat down; one of the women had pulled up a chair for her. "Or would you like to correct me?"

Molam sipped at his tea in response. Floral notes flooded his senses, followed by a hint of nuts and honey. Tieguanyin. Expensive. But he didn't like where she wanted to bring the conversation, so he responded with, "Are you even the type that appreciates being corrected?"

Her smile widened. "Leave us," she turned to the attending women. "And prepare more tea. Make sure it's hot in case this is a long conversation." The women bowed, then backed out of the room.

When the door closed behind them, the Madam refilled his cup to the brim, before pinching some plum powder and sprinkling it over her own. "Do you like the tea?"

Molam looked down at his cup, feeling his muscles tense up as his thoughts raced. The question seemed innocent — far too innocent. Had it been poisoned? It couldn't be, she had drank from the same pot. Had it been smeared on his cup? No… it would make no sense to poison him after returning him his mobility. His eyes flickered up to the woman's veiled face.

"Your heart is beating quite fast; is this such a hard question?" She sipped from her own cup, "Don't worry, it's not poisoned, if that's what you're wondering. It would be such a waste of good tea leaves, and tieguanyin is so hard to come by."

Molam wished he could still his beating heart from will alone. "It is good tea, but if this is an elaborate scam, I must warn you that I cannot afford to pay for tieguanyin." He brought the cup to his lips again, feigning light sips. "Your people should have simply taken my coin pouch if that's what you're after, but there isn't much left. I don't even have enough coins on me for snacks at the Festival."

She laughed again, covering her mouth with two fingers. "I see you're quite good at playing this game. As much as I would like to play with you, I do suspect you're also not generous with your time. If you could drop the pretenses with me, perhaps we could have a better conversation instead of a dance, yes?"

Molam raised his brow. "I'm a poor dancer."

"Is that so?" She set down her cup and touched the tips of her fingers together as she leaned forward slightly. "Then allow me to show some sincerity. I believe I have yet to formally introduce myself. My name is Scarlette, and I have the honor of being the Madam Proprietress of HuaLang Chamber." Her hands pushed together, flexing and stretching her fingers. "I apologize for the way this meeting was set up, but I am certain you will find it in yourself to forgive a woman who wants to meet a man." Her voice dropped into an enchanting tone when she added, "Especially when he is the current leader of the Dao and one marked by the Oracle."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

She seemed to wait for his response. Molam glanced at the silver flowers in her hair — if these people, somehow related to Primrose, wanted to harm him, they would have. Well, they did shove a needle in his neck. Besides that, it seemed that Madam Scarlette already knew much about him.

"You know, it took some time for Primrose to get to the point when I first met her," he spoke in measured, controlled tones. "What were you hoping to accomplish with this meeting?"

"I simply wanted to verify some concerning things." She smiled. "You see, my role as Madam of HuaLang Chamber has various duties. One of those includes ensuring that all of my Flowers are prepared for the situations they find themselves in, and that includes verifying the people they will be working with can be trusted."

"Flowers?" That was the second time he heard her use the word that way.

"The people of HuaLang Chamber," she clarified.

"And Primrose is—"

"A Flower of HuaLang Chamber." She laid a hand over her teacup, a delicate finger tracing its rim. "One of my cherished Flower sisters."

"You realize Primrose has the Sight, yes? She can See if I ever lie to her. I don't think trust is ever —"

"Oh I have no doubt that you can be trusted in many things, young master Molam. And that is a wonderful thing, having earned Primrose's trust. You see, one of my other roles is determining whether those who hold positions of power have desirable character traits and philosophical outlooks guiding them, ensuring we don't see a situation like Exabell did in the past. Then when — or if — I think a person isn't fit for their position, we do a little bit of… pruning."

Molam heard the threat. "And? If Primrose trusts me, why am I here?"

"Primrose trusts you, yes." She smiled without warmth; her finger's movement stopped its circling, tapping once on the rim. "But unfortunately in the case of the Dao's leadership, the group has a clear goal in mind: to upset the Empire and kill the Bloody Prince. And in that aspect, I don't think it's a question of character… but ability."

The drastic chill in her tone built upon her implied threat; the hot tea felt as though it froze in his mouth, causing Molam to choke. Madam Scarlette offered him a red handkerchief. Molam hesitated, looking from her to the offered item, then accepted it and held the handkerchief to his mouth as he coughed.

"Are you anxious?" she asked in a warm and gentle tone. "It appears you have your aura again, so you pass on that front."

Instead, he cleared his throat. "So. Earlier you mentioned a question about my aura. And now you're talking about ability." He put an intentional hardness into his tone. "What do you want?"

"Only what you are willing to give," she smiled, then added, "I heard you didn't have your aura for some time. I assume the Oracle helped you recover?"

Hesitation. To lie? At the very least, she had made an assumption that benefited him, but what to do with it? Could this woman See lies? The veil covered her eyes, but Molam knew too little about how the Sight worked to understand whether it was blocked by something as simple as cloth. He would need to proceed as though she could.

"The Oracle has a vested interest in seeing me succeed." Not an answer, merely a truth. One that reminded her who he was, but he quickly moved the conversation away from such a dangerous topic. "I'm in a festive mood, so I'm happy to help with one more thing to make it a nice trio of favors."

"A trio? And when have you helped me twice?"

"Drinking tea with you, and just now satisfying your curiosity." Molam held up two fingers, grateful she hadn't seemed to notice him shift the topic. But to be sure, he added, "So what else can I help you with today?"

Madam Scarlette leaned back in her seat, chuckling behind a hand. When she laid her hand down, she said, "You know, patrons often pay to have the privilege to drink tea with me."

"Do they also get brought in via needles to the neck?"

"Some also pay handsomely for acupuncture treatments," she answered in a playfully serious tone. "Would you like to experience it yourself afterwards?"

"No, because as someone who was 'invited' in through… needle-to-the-neck, shall we call it, staying for tea is already a tall order." Molam had no interest in giving up his point. "Do you not consider my sitting down in the first place a favor to a complete stranger?"

The Madam's mouth pressed into a thin line. "I understand your frustration, young master Molam, but nevertheless—"

Molam held up a third finger and leaned forward on the table, raising his eyebrows at the Madam as he looked meaningfully at his three raised fingers, waving the hand ever so slightly. When the movement seemed to stop her from speaking, he felt convinced; she could at the very least, see through that veil. Even if he couldn't see within.

"I will be allowed to leave, eventually, I hope?" He pressed.

She leaned forward as well, matching his movements. "And what makes you think that?" The whispered tone and follow-up smile made Molam's blood run cold.

"Are you sure you want to use your third favor on getting an answer from me?" he asked.

"Hmmm," she pushed herself back up, tapping the rim of her teacup. "Back to games, are we? Perhaps I'll play along." She reached over and picked up the teapot, filling up their cups again. Only when she set it back down did she ask, "What if I want you to kill the Prince of the Empire?"

"How greedy," commented Molam as he sipped his tea. Despite being freshly poured, it was beginning to cool. "I offered you a cup and you want the entire pot."

"Would you like to specify limitations, young master?"

"How about something I can do for you?"

"Oh my," she held a mocking hand to her mouth, "Your issue isn't being asked to kill but a matter of difficulty?"

"Be reasonable." Her answer irked Molam. He had thought he could hasten the conversation with his three favors trick. Normally, when he told someone that they would only get one more thing out of him, they would focus a lot more on their last request instead, but this woman seemed to see right through it. He decided to apply some pressure. "While I'm still in the mood to grant favors."

"Then a lady shouldn't press her luck," she smiled sweetly at him. "Since you seem hung up on it being a matter of ability, then I know something that should be absolutely fair to you."

"...Absolutely…?" Molam saw the trap far too late. He had given her the perfect excuse; hadn't fully considered what she was after. "By that, do you mean…"

"Yes," she nodded. "The Sage's Mirror is fair."

"I believe," Molam began slowly, his mind racing, "that the Sage's Mirror is only usable during the Festival, and the Arena only accepts combatants who register beforehand."

"Easily resolved." Madam Scarlette waved a dismissive hand, then leaned forward with a musical note in her voice that raised the hairs on Molam's neck. "I assume your concerns have been satisfied?"

A sensation of compelled obedience washed over Molam, causing his lip to twitch. He contemplated refusing outright, but Madam Scarlette had proven herself unwilling to let the matter go. Moreover, if he wanted to regain control over the conversation, he needed to shift the topic again.

"Very well then," Molam nodded. If he couldn't refuse, then the next best thing was for him to decide how it progressed. "We will meet at the Martial Arena on the third day. I assume that gives you enough time to resolve the matter of my entry into the Arena's event?"

After a moment, Madam Scarlette leaned forward. A new pressure — an overwhelming sensation of scrutiny — almost caused Molam to flinch. Three breaths later, her lips curved. "I had wondered, after hearing Flo's voice did not work on you." She leaned back in her seat and tapped the side of her cup. "I believe Primrose must have mentioned that Charm did not work on you at some point, but I did not take it to heart."

Molam ignored her unasked question. "Then we have an agreement?"

"Not the third day." Tap. Again, her finger tapped on the cup. "You will be scheduled to fight tomorrow instead."

"If that is your request," Molam replied stiffly. No doubt the Madam did not want to give him any time to prepare, but Molam was merely happy to get to a resolution. Leaving the Chamber alive was his greatest concern. "Is there anything else?"

Tap. Tap. Tap. Ting.

The door opened, and Molam looked over to see the three women from before coming in.

"Madam." The three women from before came in, greeting Madam Scarlette. "The additional tea you requested is ready whenever you wish for it."

"We won't need it. Clean up here, and help see young master Molam out."

Madam Scarlette stood up and returned her seat to the zither as one woman took away the tea set and the other two cleaned up the table, moving it away. The first came back and gestured to Molam.

"This way, young master."

He glanced at the veiled woman, who strummed a finger across one of the zither’s strings. Something about being brought here against his will only to be so unceremoniously dismissed did not sit well with Molam, but he thought better than to act upon it.

"Thank you, Madam Scarlette. For the tea." He stood up stiffly and followed the woman out.

***

"Enter."

Cassia, Flora, and Leilani entered the Madam's room. Madam Scarlette had reapplied her lipstick and was picking out clothes for her next event, where she would be presenting the musical piece she had been practicing for quite some time. Though few, each seat for Madam Scarlette's annual Festival performance always auctioned off for an eye-watering price.

"Flo." Madam Scarlette pointed to a pouch on the desk. "Take that to Molam and thank him for his time. The young master shouldn't have gone far. If he's dismissive about it, tell him the Chamber pays well."

Flora left the room with the pouch.

"Lei, go find out which fighters are scheduled for the Martial Arena tomorrow. Take several Flowers and see if you can bring one or two back to the Chamber, ideally ones scheduled to fight in the morning. I understand you are somewhat limited in time, so utilize as many Flowers as you need. Make sure they enjoy the Chamber so much they miss their scheduled fight, hmm?"

Leilani bowed, then left the room as well, leaving Cassia waiting on the Madam.

"Do you think this pairing would work?" Madam Scarlette pointed to a black shawl as she shrugged into the scarlet dress.

Cassia gave it some thought before she answered. "That would be black on red. The two work well together, but your audience tonight is composed of important patrons from the Free Cities. Any drunkard wanting to cause a scene could accuse you of wearing the Prince's colors."

"A good point." The proprietress skipped her hand over the red and pulled out a silver shawl.

"Madam, may I ask a question?" Cassia asked. She would normally not dare, but her confusion would not be denied.

"You may."

"You rarely ask us to prepare extra tea and emphasize 'hot.' I had to pull multiple sisters and brothers from their tasks to hide in waiting, but in the end you let him go without killing him. Was he so dangerous you changed your mind?"

"Dangerous? Perhaps, but not in matters of violence." Madam Scarlette settled on a scarlet dress made of thin material. "I don't think the Oracle chose him for his fighting ability."

Doubt clouded Cassia's mind. "But does that not make him a liability in the fight against the Empire? Should we not replace him as you originally planned?"

"I understand your concern, Cassia. But it is not an issue of fighting power." She turned her back to Cassia and lifted her lustrous black hair to the side, exposing where the dress lay unbuttoned on her back. Cassia stepped forward and began buttoning up the dress as the Madam continued. "Consider why everyone who contributes to HuaLang Chamber walks a different path. Some are thorny Flowers, others are fragrant Flowers. And then there are our Roots and Leaves that are not a good fit for either path, but nevertheless play an important role in everything we do here."

"I hope it is enough," Cassia expressed her doubt without protesting.

"We can only try. Unless one of the Companions shows up, searching for mere strength won't solve the issue. The Frozen Saint, the Six Crowns… they weren't weak, but they certainly weren't enough." The Madam pondered the wall of nameplates. "As Sanctuary seems to have committed the Whale of ZhiXia to the Dao, we know the Oracle does not take this lightly. I suspect she chose young master Molam for the same reason I am keeping him alive."

Finishing up the last button, Cassia stepped back. "He must have made a good impression on you for you to say this."

"Oh, he was quite entertaining for someone dragged into an unknown situation. He made me genuinely laugh not once, but three times!" Madam Scarlette rotated slowly in front of the mirror. "Weren't you listening in as he performed for me? He even managed to dictate parts of the conversation while treading carefully around the threat of violence. Astounding, really. His dexterity may be sorely lacking, but the depth of his mental discipline is what I hope all of our Petals learn if they wish to become Flowers. Mmm," she seemed satisfied with the overall look. "This will do."

"You will certainly attract the patrons tonight." Cassia murmured as the Madam rearranged her flowers in front of a mirror, then affixed two flower-shaped white jade earrings to her earlobes.

"Thank you, Cass." The Madam led the way out of the room as Cassia followed. "Now, let us see if Mursa Shang is here to dance."

***

HuaLang Chamber's people had guided Molam out to the main street, pointing out Sanctuary for him, and then the Martial Arena in case he did not know. He parted ways with them hastily, unwilling to engage with their social niceties.

No sooner had Molam begun to feel lost in the Festival's crowd did his light coin pouch remind him: he could walk through the Festival but could not participate. Perhaps he should have asked Sanctuary for more funds, but how would that look? He didn't want the Oracle to get another sense of satisfaction at his helplessness.

"Young master Molam!"

Molam closed his eyes and allowed himself a sigh before turning warily. "What now?"

One of the women from HuaLang Chamber ran up to him, the one who had tried to compel his will with her voice. She approached with both hands up, signaling to him that she wasn't here for a fight, before bringing out a pouch.

"The Madam wants you to have this, to thank you for your time." Seeing his unwillingness to touch it, she shook it twice. The sound of jingling coins hit Molam's ear.

"Your Madam has a bizarre sense of business." Molam held out his hand with caution. "Is it a good idea for brothel keepers if a man leaves with more coins than he entered with?"

"The Madam said you would be coyly dismissive." The woman bowed her head, her auburn hair dangling in his face. "I am to remind you that HuaLang Chamber would not stand being accused of paying poorly."

"Paying?" The word alone seemed to make the bag of coins heavier in his hand.

"Yes. As I said earlier, for your time."

Somewhere, the zither had started playing again. The music danced playfully through the air and Molam swore he could hear that tinkling laughter over the sounds of the Festival. After a moment of internal struggle, the delicious scent of cooking food nearby won and Molam put the pouch into his clothes.

The woman bowed. "I look forward to serving you again, young master."

Molam watched her meld into the crowd, then turned towards the nearest food stall. It seems like he would be able to buy some more food after all.

The coin pouch weighed against his chest.