Chapter 44: Story with Musical Accompaniment

Liu Liwa offered some encouragement to Miss Liuyun. Though still somewhat worried, she decided to give it her all—it was definitely better than entertaining clients!

Next, Miss Liuyun changed her clothes. Gone were her luxurious silk garments, but she also shed the coarse hemp clothing. Women dreaded drawing too much attention, but they also couldn’t afford to be too unnoticed.

Liu Liwa’s goal was simple: to let her confidently showcase her talents, relying on genuine skill to earn a living. This was a respectable career founded on art—though if the chance for some behind-the-scenes dealings arose, Liu Liwa certainly wouldn’t mind.

Carrying some money and hanging a dongxiao flute, along with some metal rings, octagonal instruments, and other musical tools Liu Liwa couldn’t name, they prepared to go out. The main idea had been explained; now it depended on Liuyun’s improvisation.

Exiting the room, Liu Liwa noticed the doors of neighboring rooms were tightly shut. Thanks to Wu Liniang’s authority, Shen Zuijin—though seen naked—had not come to make trouble. The moment Liu Liwa appeared downstairs, the guests burst into cheers. In the front row sat Ye Zecong, the Son of the Vice Minister, who was receiving special treatment.

Young Master Ye occupied an entire front-row table piled high with delicacies and fine wine. Yang Xiaosi served him alone; no women were nearby. The closest was at least three meters away, ensuring not even a whiff of perfume reached him. Liu Liwa realized just how eccentric the elites of this era could be.

As a fan, however, Young Master Ye welcomed him warmly. The Intoxication Pavilion became a sea of joy. Applause showed the crowd’s enthusiasm for the new art form and their hopes for a better tomorrow. Cheers expressed their affection for Liu Liwa. Onstage, Liu Liwa connected deeply with the audience. Together, they reflected on the past and looked forward to the future, striving side by side to make every night at Intoxication Pavilion a celebration.

It was the first time the pavilion’s guests had cheered for a man, and they clearly felt awkward about it. The women below the stage wore mixed emotions—only Miss Yanhong, who had no client, clapped wildly in expectation.

Liu Liwa also observed that while just yesterday guests had adored Miss Liuyun, today no one reacted to her. Regulars saw favorites become forgotten plenty of times; they’d given tips and gotten enjoyment—that was it.

With everyone waiting so long, Liu Liwa delayed no further. The stage, set up just like for the former star Liuyun, featured a burning incense pot and a teapot. The setup resembled a storyteller’s, the approach a standup show, but the content leaned toward… spicy.

Miss Liuyun sat behind Liu Liwa, nearly using him as a shield, clearly still uncomfortable with this new role. Her only lifeline now was the instrument in her hands and her musical gift.

As Liu Liwa took his seat, the room fell silent. The eager faces gave him a true taste of stardom. Sipping his tea, he set down the cup with a crisp clack—a sign to begin. Clearing his throat, he launched in: “No rambling—let’s pick up where we left off. Last time, Lanlan experienced unimaginable joy. This joy seeped into her bones, touched her soul, and awakened a dormant hunger deep within her body. She knew she’d never forget that incredible feeling.”

As he spoke, soft erhu music swelled behind him—a haunting melody woven into the story. The music became an unseen hand, struggling to break free from desire and grasp that unforgettable bliss. Liu Liwa himself was stunned by the raw power of this simple traditional music, sans heavy instruments or backup. Its magic lay purely in the musician’s skill and her understanding of the story. The audience, far from being disturbed by the sudden music, drew deeper into the tale, their excitement mounting.

Liu Liwa seized the moment: “One morning, after experiencing ecstasy, Lanlan rose, eager to share her new bliss with her friend Hong Hong. They’d been inseparable since childhood, sharing everything joyful. This time, something transformative had happened to her, a change she burned to share. Yet when she pushed open Hong Hong’s familiar door, the scene left Lanlan frozen. Her friend lay experiencing the same pleasure—perhaps even greater than her own.”

As Liu Liwa paused, the music shifted. Bright, happy piping notes portrayed “Hong Hong’s” elation, then melted into the mournful hum of the dongxiao, painting Lanlan’s turmoil.

Liu Liwa scanned the crowd as the melody changed, spotting the tall Miss Yanhong nearby. Subtly, he patted his chest to confirm the silver taels he’d been paid were still there—a silent promise kept.

The tempo and tone of his voice matched the music. “Though Hong Hong and Lanlan were the same age, their builds differed. Lanlan was petite, small but shapely. Hong Hong stood tall, nearly seven feet, rivaling a man. Lean yet slender, she had long, shapely legs—straight and graceful. Now, those legs coiled tightly together like a serpent’s, appearing ready to draw the source of her boundless pleasure deep into her being…”

The audience had longed for this vivid scene. Devoted fans exploded into fevered cheers. On stage, Miss Liuyun swapped her flute for the ya qin. Its strings buzzed urgently like torrential rain—capturing the tension in Hong Hong’s legs, the breathless surge toward climax, amplifying the spectators’ anticipation.

Liu Liwa’s voice rose excitedly, his gestures animated as he narrated: “Mesmerized, Lanlan gazed upon her friend’s entwining legs… tightening… and tightening. Unconsciously, she pressed her own legs together. An abrupt feeling of emptiness coursed within her. Hong Hong’s undulating cries sounded like dark magic to her ears—almost impossible to resist…”

Liu Liwa proceeded to describe every vivid detail witnessed by Lanlan under the restless tempo of the music, focusing especially on Hong Hong’s slender legs and the starkly different allure of a towering lady. Behind him, the accompanist Miss Liuyun occasionally faltered—notes slipping as personal discomfort tangled with the steamy tale, or forgetting to play altogether, captivated by the narrative. The first collaboration remained imperfect, yet at these moments, the audience stayed too engrossed to complain. Overall, the story with musical backdrop proved undeniably richer and more alluring—it simply needed refining.

The tale lasted as long as a meal. By the end, Liu Liwa’s throat was parched. Below the stage, women flushed crimson with arousal; eager men glanced restlessly at the nearby dancers, eyes lingering on legs. Just then, at Liu Liwa’s signal, Miss Yanhong glided forward. Prepared, she wore a sheer gauze gown; her long, toned legs hinted visibly through the fabric—firm and elegant. Seemingly bringing tea for Liu Liwa, her entrance unfolded as a provocative live show…