009. The Mule and Horse Market

It is said that Linzhou possesses three treasures: fat sheep, fine horses, and beautiful women.

Li Third, however, was skeptical. He’d spent an entire day wandering East Street, West Street, the Southern Market, and the Northern Alley, yet found nothing to his liking. The infamous bandit, Dyecloth Redheart, had already met his end, and the return of the army was imminent. Yet Li Third had not the faintest shadow of a suitable gift to pay tribute to the young master—how could this be allowed?

The young master had bestowed upon him a favor as vast as heaven and earth; without his guidance, Li Third would never have reached the northwest, nor would the rewards for military merit ever be in his grasp. The rewards, though desirable, were secondary—without such merit, he would forever remain a house retainer in the Duke of Qi’s estate, a bodyguard in name, a servant in truth.

But with military merits, everything changed. He would gain a path upwards; with the Duke’s estate as his backing, he could don official robes and jade belts, walk with pride, and rise to the rank of master.

Ah, without the young master’s enlightenment and care, how could he succeed? Such favor was boundless. If he returned empty-handed, with nothing to offer in gratitude, would he still be human? Would he not become an ungrateful, undutiful wretch?

What should he present as tribute? The anxiety gnawed at him. The Duke of Qi’s estate possessed everything; the young master had seen all there was to see. To win his favor was, in a word, difficult; in two, extremely difficult; in three, exceedingly difficult.

Li Third racked his brains until it nearly sprouted grass.

Seeing his chief so anxious, his attendant, Small Stone, ventured, “Shall we take a look at the Mule and Horse Market?”

Li Third, supporting his battered face, let out a cold snort. “No matter how good Linzhou’s horses are, can they surpass the divine dragon steeds in our estate? Nonsense—”

Despite his precautions, that last word tugged at his wound, making him grimace helplessly.

“These three brats really did go for the kill,” Li Third muttered resentfully.

“But I quite like it,” he added with shameless grin.

The beating at Gourd Valley was perhaps undeserved, but not entirely fruitless. A beating meant affection, a scolding meant love; after this ordeal, they were all comrades now.

Though calling each other brothers was beyond his reach, being the confidant of these young lords was well within possibility. With such powerful patrons, he could stride freely across the Tang realm.

Li Third was pleased, but, mindful of his injured face, refrained from laughing this time.

Small Stone, seeing his chief’s darkened expression, worried his suggestion had been misunderstood and hastily clarified in a low voice, “Brother, the Mule and Horse Market doesn’t sell horses—it sells…”

Li Third cut him off with a fierce glare, temper rising again: “You little Stone, were it not for the fact that our young master drank your mother’s milk as a child, I’d have kicked your gut out long ago. If the Mule and Horse Market doesn’t sell horses, does it sell people?”

Small Stone, seeing Li Third’s sour face, grew anxious. He wanted to explain, but with so many people around, dared not speak openly. Yet if he kept silent, Li Third’s temper might erupt and he’d be kicked to the curb.

After some hesitation, Small Stone resolved to take a risk. He tiptoed and whispered a few words in Li Third’s ear.

At first, Li Third was stunned. Then his brows relaxed into a smile, which pained him anew.

Settling his wounded face, he slapped Small Stone on the head and gave him a not-too-hard kick with his leather boot, scolding, “Why didn’t you say so earlier? Had me wandering all day!”

Small Stone, though beaten, was delighted. A beating meant affection, a scolding was love; no beating nor scolding meant nothing. He was of humble birth, unable to wield pen or sword, and only through his mother’s thick skin had he secured a position in the Duke’s estate. Yet, as an outsider, without silver to offer, the houseborn retainers like Li Third barely regarded him.

They neither beat nor scolded him, nor bothered to make things difficult—they simply kept him away from those in charge. Without the favor of the managers, how could he hope for advancement?

It’s said relationships are built through interaction; without it, how can there be ties? If Li Third wouldn’t engage, Small Stone would persistently cling, shamelessly following him. With enough effort, even an iron rod could be ground into a needle—he was sure there would come a day.

Opportunity had indeed arrived. Because Li Third wanted to find a unique gift for the young master, he didn’t want his fellow retainers to know; having everyone present the same gift would be meaningless.

Thus, for this outing, he brought only his trusted Black Tiger and Wang Wu, leaving all others behind. Black Tiger and Wang Wu had no roots in the estate and couldn’t compete for favor.

But, knowing Black Tiger and Wang Wu were good at drinking but not at errands, Li Third decided to select a capable newcomer as his runner and helper.

He settled on Small Stone—whose background was clear and who fawned over him. A useful man.

Small Stone’s luck had finally turned; he clung to Li Third all day, treating him like a father, eager to please and obedient. His persistence paid off—Li Third finally showed him favor by giving him a beating. This beating and kick meant he was now regarded as a brother.

Seeing his prospects, Small Stone dared to broach the subject of the Mule and Horse Market with Li Third. It was a good place, but not everyone could enter. Like taking one’s brother-in-law to a brothel, the outcome was unpredictable.

But Small Stone steeled himself. “Damn it, I’ll risk everything—if I don’t win him over today, even heaven will despise me.”

They say the women of Linzhou are soul-devouring succubi, and there’s truth to it. Each boasts a slender waist and ample hips, skin like white jade, and an indescribable allure. No matter how tough you are, falling into their hands means losing both flesh and soul.

In troubled times, the northwest’s industries withered, but Linzhou thrived. Some say the city’s tens of thousands rely on the girls of Flowery Lane for their livelihood. Though this is an exaggeration, it’s not entirely baseless.

Flowery Lane lies in the west of Linzhou. At its crossroads sits the famed Mule and Horse Market. In the past, cattle and horses were traded there; now, people are sold—slaves by day, and at night… only those who go know what’s sold.

By day, the market consists of two intersecting dirt streets, one so dilapidated it’s almost abandoned. Aside from slave merchants and buyers, not a soul is seen. But at night, as if by magic, it becomes a sea of people.

The neglected inns and lodgings around the market suddenly transform into dazzling brothels and music halls, making one feel as if they’ve ascended to paradise.

Linzhou’s population is only thirty or fifty thousand, half of whom are soldiers. Where do all these customers come from? The answer lies in the unique nature of Linzhou’s brothels and music halls.

The girls at the Mule and Horse Market, like the cattle and horses, are openly traded at fixed prices, honestly and transparently. Customers who fancy a girl simply pay the price listed and can take her away at any time.

In ordinary brothels, customers may redeem a girl, but only if two conditions are met: first, the girl must consent; second, the owner must agree. The complexity often daunts even the bravest.

In Linzhou’s Mule and Horse Market, money solves everything.

Clear prices, pick anyone—money for a person, clean and straightforward.

No one knows why there are so many girls at Linzhou’s Mule and Horse Market. All that’s certain is that any type of beauty can be found here: white, black, yellow, half-white, half-black, half-yellow, and all combinations thereof; Khitan, Uighur, Shatuo, Tibetan, Xi, Shiwei, Jian Kun, Turkic, Bohai, Baekje, Japanese, Arab, Byzantine…

You won’t fail to find one; only your imagination limits you.

They say Chang’an’s Pingkang Lane is a nest of beauties. But after visiting Linzhou’s Mule and Horse Market, even the uneducated would recite, “Once you’ve seen the vast sea, no other waters suffice; except for Mount Wu, no other clouds will do.”