Volume Two: The Noble and the Knave Chapter Nineteen: The Crisis at the Music Bureau

Another morning dawned.

At the break of day, Gu Yunxiao, Assistant Director of the Ministry of Rites, arrived at his office.

Though it was only the thirteenth day of the first lunar month, in truth, the various ministries of the court had yet to officially resume work—the long-standing custom dictated that the offices did not formally reopen until after the Lantern Festival on the fifteenth. Yet, he had already immersed himself in his duties several days in advance.

The reason was simple: his post differed from that of his colleagues. He oversaw the Directorate of Music and Entertainments.

As a subordinate institution of the Ministry of Rites, the Directorate of Music had existed since ancient times, responsible for arranging music and dance for palace celebrations. However, under the present Ming dynasty, the Directorate had acquired another significant function: it now managed all government-run brothels and pleasure houses, and had gradually extended its control over many privately operated establishments in the capital as well.

Being in charge of the Directorate of Music made Gu Yunxiao’s position somewhat awkward. No matter how official or state-sanctioned, he was, after all, overseeing brothels—an occupation hardly regarded as respectable.

Yet over time, he had come to relish this assignment.

Not only did it offer considerable personal gain, but the revenues funneled from the Directorate into the Ministry of Rites endowed him with a voice of real influence among his colleagues.

By name, the Ministry of Rites stood first among the Six Ministries, but in terms of actual power, it ranked near the bottom. Compared with the Ministry of Personnel, Revenue, or War—those true centers of authority—it was far less significant. Even the Ministries of Justice and Works wielded greater clout. And where there was little power, there was little profit; to call the Ministry of Rites a “clear-water yamen” was no exaggeration.

Only the Directorate of Music provided any benefit above the meager official salary for the ministry’s officials.

From his years in this post, Gu Yunxiao knew that this was the most lucrative time of year. The Lantern Festival marked the crucial moment when each brothel in the capital vied for the title of Courtesan Queen.

As the chief officer of the Directorate, every aspect of the contest—its organization and the final selection—ultimately lay in his hands.

For the sake of fame and fortune, each house was eager to lavish generous bribes in hopes of securing victory for their own girls. Over the years, he and his subordinates had grown immensely rich from these dealings, and he saw no reason why this year should be any different.

Smiling, Gu Yunxiao lifted a cup of tea brought by a trusted aide. He was about to summon his staff for a meeting when a hurried knock sounded at the closed door.

“Come in,” he called absently, and in strode his trusted subordinate, Yuan Hui, his expression tense.

“Sir, something’s happened.”

“What could possibly disturb you so? An official must always remain composed—even if Mount Tai were to collapse before you, your face should show no change. That is what it means to have depth,” Gu Yunxiao replied with a smile.

But as Yuan Hui spoke, that calm vanished instantly.

“Yesterday, sir, you asked why certain private brothels had yet to send their offerings. I sent men to inquire. Just now, representatives from all of them arrived together…”

Yuan Hui’s face was filled with astonishment. “They not only refused to follow the usual customs—they took back the lists of girls set to participate in the Courtesan Queen contest and declared their withdrawal from this year’s competition!”

“What did you say?” Gu Yunxiao’s expression darkened; all pretense of composure vanished. “They’re pulling out of the contest?”

“That is correct.”

“Did they give a reason?” Gu Yunxiao pressed, then seemed to think of something. He fixed his gaze on his subordinate. “Did our men say or do anything they shouldn’t have? Did they speak out of turn and make the houses feel slighted, prompting them to stage this protest?”

“Sir, you judge rightly; our people would never risk their own livelihoods by doing such a thing.”

“Then why would they do this? Without the contest, how will their girls become famous and attract clients? Don’t they realize how much they stand to lose?”

Seeing his superior so enraged, Yuan Hui swallowed nervously before answering softly, “I did manage to get something out of one of their men—they intend to cut us out entirely, and organize their own Courtesan Queen competition.”

“Hm?” Gu Yunxiao was first taken aback, then gave a short, incredulous laugh. “Just those ten or so brothels think they can go up against the Directorate? Do they truly have the means?”

He paused, then mused aloud, “Perhaps this is merely a tactic, a feint to force our hand, or a protest that we awarded half the contest spots to the Directorate’s own houses?”

It was a sad thing, really, that as an official of the court, an Assistant Director no less, his mind now worked like that of a merchant, always calculating profit and loss.

Yuan Hui hesitated, but finally spoke the truth. “Sir, I don’t think that’s likely.”

“How so?”

“If they wished to negotiate, they would have left room for discussion. Instead, they took away all their girls’ names—clearly signaling a total break with us.”

Gu Yunxiao fell silent. Now he was truly at a loss to fathom their motives.

He pondered for a long while, but no solution came to him. What made it worse was that, at least for now, he had no way to strike back.

If they refused to play by his rules, his most effective weapon—the Courtesan Queen contest—was rendered useless.

Worse still, without the participation of those ten-odd private houses, not only would his own income shrink, but the contest itself would lose much of its luster, with far-reaching consequences.

As for retaliating against the brothels through official channels, he was loath to resort to such measures unless absolutely necessary—and even then, it might not work. In theory, the Directorate did have supervisory authority over the city’s brothels, but as long as they broke no laws, there was little he could do, especially with their powerful backers.

After a long silence, Gu Yunxiao let out a heavy sigh. “Send men to negotiate with them again. Everything can be discussed—I am not an unreasonable man.”

Yuan Hui glanced at his superior but dared not voice his thoughts: this would only embolden those people further.

“Yes, sir. I will arrange for those with close ties to the brothels to try and persuade them to return.”

“Not try—make sure it is done. At worst, we collect twenty percent less this year, and give them two more spots in the contest,” Gu Yunxiao said wearily, waving his hand.