Zhou Zishu felt very revolted. The world had changed, he thought, and the traditional mores of society had deteriorated--shockingly, in the middle of the night, a maiden would visit a brothel to seek pleasure. He raised his head to look at the night sky, and said, “This…”

The Scorpion humphed, and said, “Those scholars are particular about how ‘Every utterance must result in an action, and every action must have a consequence’; the jianghu folks say that ‘Retracting a gentleman’s given word is as impossible as turning back a fast horse that has been given a lash of the whip’. Even that young delinquent by the roadside knows that the spittle from a promise made is as steadfast as a hammered nail. Can it be that Zhou-xiong wants to go back on his word?”

Stirring the pot, Wen Kexing poked Zhou Zishu’s waist, and said, “Exactly. Weaseling your way out of trouble is fine, but going back on your word is too shameless. Even I am almost too ashamed to associate with you.”

Zhou Zishu slapped his lecherous paw away, thinking, Have great mercy, and stop associating with me.

He glanced at the Scorpion, and without a second word, turned and walked back in the direction they had come from.

The Scorpion’s expression relaxed, and he smiled. In fact, his features were decent, but he was not too pleasant-looking when he smiled--his mouth looked as though it was a little slanted, making him seem especially like he was harbouring no good intentions. On top of that, his frivolous gaze and his lecherous expression made him look positively perverted. Abruptly, Wen Kexing had a foreboding sense of danger; he looked at Zhou Zishu's back, then at this man beside him, and felt that to do that thing in front of this person...required him to do a little mental preparation.

However, he very quickly discovered that he had, in fact, worried unnecessarily.

Arms crossed, the Scorpion stood at the entrance of the room perfumed with burning incense. It seemed like someone had come in to tidy the bed; the bed curtains, half-put up, drooped loosely. The Scorpion asked, “Do you two gentlemen need to bathe and change, or require any items to...spice things up?”

Zhou Zishu rolled up his sleeves, and said very much like a man without a partner, “Such trouble is unnecessary. Bring me brush and ink.”

The Scorpion paused, taken aback. A beat later, he clapped his hands lightly. A person in servant's attire ran over in small steps and stood still in front of him, waist bent and head lowered. The Scorpion gave him instructions in a low voice. Zhou Zishu hurried to add, “And a cut[25] of xuan paper.”

The servant went away. The Scorpion looked at him, and asked suspiciously, “Zhou-xiong isn’t thinking of playing another trick, is he?”