The courtyard of the Red Lantern House was meant to be a place of serenity. Lanterns swayed gently from the eaves, a koi pond rippled under the moonlight, and the faint notes of a flute drifted from an upper chamber.
But tonight, serenity was shattered.
Two younger courtesans were at each other's throats, voices sharp as knives.
"He was my patron first!" one cried, clutching her silk sleeve.
"You think he cares about you?" the other snapped. "He gave me the jade bracelet last night!"
They shoved each other, hairpins trembling, their painted smiles twisting into snarls. Other girls circled around, whispering gleefully, their laughter feeding the fire.
Lan Hua stood at the balcony above, silent. She could have turned away. She could have left Madam to handle the mess. But instead, she watched.
So this is the heart of it, she thought. Jealousy. Backstabbing. Endless squabbles over who owns which man's attention.
She had seen this before—in another world, in another life. Not courtesans, but executives. Not jade bracelets, but contracts worth millions. In the end, the greed was the same. And the result was always the same: chaos.
The argument below escalated until one girl yanked the other's sleeve, ripping the embroidery with an ugly tear. Gasps filled the courtyard.
"Enough!" Madam's voice cracked like a whip as she stormed in, fanning herself furiously. "Do you fools want to ruin us all? Patrons will flee if they see such disgrace!"
The girls dropped to their knees, tears streaking their rouge. Madam glared, then ordered them flogged lightly as punishment—enough to leave red marks, but not scars. The crowd dispersed in uneasy silence.
Lan Hua remained at the balcony, her eyes cold.
Madam's method would silence them for a night, but not forever. Tomorrow, the fights would resume. Next week, someone would betray another. A house built on beauty alone was a house forever on fire.
This system is broken, Lan Hua realized. Every girl sees only her own survival. They claw and bite until nothing remains. But if they united—if they shared the gain instead of tearing it apart—this house could outlast kings.
Her CEO brain whirred, gears clicking into place.
Contracts. Incentives. Loyalty.
That was what they needed.
---
Later, in her chamber, she spread paper on her desk. The brush felt strange in her hand—she had once signed documents with pens worth thousands, now she drafted ideas with ink meant for poetry.
But words were weapons, no matter the tool.
She drew three columns.
Contracts.
Secrecy.
Profit-sharing.
Her brush hovered as she thought, her mind slipping back to her boardroom days. She remembered how she had structured deals: nothing moved without ink, signatures, and accountability. Why should it be different here?
Contracts for matches, she wrote. Patrons must sign binding agreements with the house, sealed with tokens, so disputes could never undermine them.
Then the second column. Secrecy pacts. The courtesans must swear loyalty, not to Madam alone but to the house as a whole. Betrayal would mean exile, and exile meant ruin.
The third column she wrote more slowly, smiling as she did. Profit-sharing. If every courtesan fought only for herself, the house would rot. But if each girl received a portion of the overall earnings, then sabotage would hurt them all. Unity would become self-interest.
She leaned back, tapping the brush against her chin.
It wasn't perfect—not yet. But it was a start.
---
A knock at the door.
"Enter," Lan Hua called.
The timid maid from before stepped in, bowing low. "Miss Lan Hua, Madam requests you in her office."
Lan Hua smiled faintly. So Madam already knows I've seen the cracks.
She rose, smoothing her robe, and carried the scroll with her.
---
Madam's office was cluttered with ledgers and half-burned incense sticks. The older woman sat stiffly, her fan tapping against her palm.
"You saw what happened in the courtyard," Madam said without preamble. "Girls squabbling like fishwives. Shameful."
"Yes," Lan Hua said, her tone mild. "And predictable. The system encourages it."
Madam's eyes narrowed. "System?"
Lan Hua unrolled her scroll and laid it on the desk.
"This house thrives because of beauty, but beauty fades. What we need is structure. Stability. Something beyond rouge and silk."
She pointed to the first column. "Contracts. Every match must be written and sealed. Patrons cannot cheat us, nor can they turn courtesans against one another."
Her finger slid to the second. "Secrecy. If our rivals hear of these quarrels, they will spread rumors and destroy us. We bind our women to silence, through oath or signature. Loose tongues will not survive here."
Finally, she tapped the last. "Profit-sharing. If the girls see themselves as rivals, they will tear each other apart. But if their survival is tied to one another, they will protect, not betray. Imagine—every successful match benefits the whole house. Loyalty becomes self-interest."
Madam stared at her, speechless.
"This is madness," she said at last. "They are courtesans, not ministers. They live for silver, not scrolls."
Lan Hua smiled, her eyes glinting. "Then we give them both. Silver and scrolls. Fear and loyalty. Madam, you saw it tonight. If this continues, the house will eat itself alive. But with structure…" She leaned forward. "…we could be more powerful than the noble families we serve."
The room was silent, save for the faint crackle of incense.
Finally, Madam exhaled, her fan slowing. "You speak like a minister, not a courtesan."
Lan Hua's smile deepened. "Ministers can be replaced. Courtesans cannot."
---
That night, as she returned to her chamber, Lan Hua passed the courtyard once more. The lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, and laughter drifted from the girls' rooms.
But she no longer saw them as rivals or playthings. She saw them as pieces of an empire she was already beginning to build.
Marriage was always about mergers, she thought, her lips curving. And I was always meant to be the one who writes the contracts.
The koi pond rippled in the moonlight, and the reflection of her face shimmered like a crown of shadows.
The Peony Matchmaker was no longer just surviving. She was planning.
And soon, everyone in the Red Lantern House would know it.
---