Chapter 83: The Pleasure Pavilions and Playhouses

Kaifeng Prefecture in Song Dynasty’s Eastern Capital was structured with the imperial palace at the center, forming a grid pattern with main roads aligned directly with each city gate, resembling the character for "well." These principal roads were called "Imperial Avenues." There were four such avenues in Kaifeng Prefecture: one ran south from Xuande Gate through Vermilion Bird Gate to Nanxun Gate; another stretched west from Zhou Bridge through Old Zheng Gate to New Zheng Gate; the third extended east from Zhou Bridge through Old Song Gate to New Song Gate; and the last ran north from the eastern market of the palace through Old Fengqiu Gate to New Fengqiu Gate.

The avenues and lanes were about two hundred paces wide, making the streets exceptionally broad, with imperial corridors lining both sides. Within the city, four rivers—Wuzhang River, Jinshui River, Bian River, and Cai River—crisscrossed the entirety of Kaifeng, making waterborne transport highly convenient.

Shops and markets sprang up along both riverbanks and the streets perpendicular to the rivers, creating ideal spaces for commerce and trade. The court permitted commoners to open doors directly onto the street, abolishing the former distinctions between “markets” and “wards.” Thus, along the riverbanks and Imperial Avenues, vibrant commercial districts flourished, marking the prosperity of the Eastern Capital, Kaifeng.

With the replacement of "markets" and "wards" by these urban streets, those engaged in commerce were no longer limited to merchants. From princes and high officials to hawkers and porters, and even military officers and soldiers, all could engage in trade. One could not underestimate any merchant, for the true financier behind the shop might well be a member of the imperial family, too formidable to offend.

At this moment, Li Sanjian was strolling alone along the Imperial Avenue toward New Zheng Gate, feeling a sense of novelty and growing delight. After the provincial examination, he had slept for three days and nights, weighed down by worries about his future. To ease his restlessness, he decided to wander the streets of Kaifeng on his own, leaving his companions behind.

Along New Zheng Gate’s Imperial Avenue, not only were there countless shops, but also a dense array of taverns, brothels, pleasure houses, and all manner of workshops—large and small foundries, jade workshops, instrument makers, whip makers, dye houses, silk weavers, state-run and private workshops mushrooming throughout the city. The sheer spectacle left Li Sanjian dazzled.

Words like “prosperous,” “luxurious,” “advanced,” and “civilized” echoed again and again in Li Sanjian’s mind, filling him with awe.

“Lotus Pavilion?” At that moment, Li Sanjian found himself before a wooden building called the Lotus Pavilion, uncertain what sort of place it was. He gazed up at the signboard, lost in thought.

At first glance, the building resembled a grand bell and drum tower. Below was a platform with a flight of stairs leading up to the entrance, and many people were ascending. Colorful banners and silks hung from the upper floors, one of which bore the inscription: “The Grand Capital’s Beloved Great Company of Entertainers Performs Here.”

What kind of place was this? Li Sanjian wondered. Was it a brothel? He noticed many young women, beautifully dressed and heavily made up, calling out coquettishly to passersby from the balcony. But on closer inspection, it seemed not to be a brothel, for the patrons included men and women, old and young, even children. How could this be a brothel?

If not a brothel, then what? Could it be a venue for singers or dancers?

Since arriving in this world, Li Sanjian had only seen two performances—one at Chen Village, and the other during the examination in Guizhou. The Guizhou performance was meager, not worth mentioning, but at Chen Village, thanks to Chen Zao’s arrangements, Li Sanjian had truly been amazed, even getting a little too friendly with the dancers after a few drinks—a memory that now made him blush with embarrassment.

He wondered how Chen Zao was faring these days—was he still being henpecked by his wife? And what of the headstrong Chen Ke’er? The memory brought a smile to Li Sanjian’s face.

“Hey, what are you doing? Why are you standing there daydreaming?” Just as Li Sanjian stood grinning foolishly at the wooden building, someone gave him a shove.

Startled, Li Sanjian turned to see a “youth” standing behind him.

This “youth” wore a pale blue brocade robe, a blue headscarf, and black boots, with a slender, elegant figure only half a head shorter than Li Sanjian.

A slender youth’s chest should be flat, yet this person’s chest was full, straining the fabric—a clear sign of a woman in men’s clothing. Her skin was exceptionally fair and smooth, confirming his suspicion.

Examining her closely, Li Sanjian realized it was his old acquaintance, Li Qingzhao.

At that moment, Li Qingzhao’s lovely face, capable of both charm and reproach, flashed with irritation. She glared at Li Sanjian and said, “You lecher… Where are you looking?”

Li Sanjian’s gaze had lingered on her chest, making Li Qingzhao flush with shame and anger.

“Oh? Ha, well…” Li Sanjian quickly tried to laugh it off. “What brings you here? Why are you dressed like this instead of in your usual clothes?”

“I came to see a play—why, is that not allowed?” Li Qingzhao replied, tilting her delicately pointed chin like a white lotus petal.

“This is a theater?” Li Sanjian asked in surprise.

“Theater? What a strange word. This is the Goulan Pavilion. There’s a great show today,” Li Qingzhao explained.

Goulan Pavilion? So, that’s what it was—Li Sanjian had always assumed such places were brothels, only to discover they were actually theatrical venues. He kept his thoughts to himself.

Li Qingzhao took a few quick steps, then turned, hesitating as she quietly asked, “Aren’t you coming to watch?”

To be invited by such a beauty, a woman of a thousand charms—how could he refuse? If he did, wouldn’t that make him the world’s greatest fool? Yet…

“Well…” Li Sanjian had left home with barely a coin to his name. Though his heart pounded and his face turned red, his legs growing weak, he stammered, “I haven’t eaten yet, and my mother’s at home waiting for me…”

He had already noticed people collecting “tickets” at the foot of the stairs.

The real issue was that, besides the entrance fee, there were likely other charges inside—private rooms, snacks, and the like. Li Sanjian simply couldn’t afford it.

His feeble excuse made Li Qingzhao burst out laughing.

It was just past the hour of Chen, not yet Si—far too early for a meal.

“You… Come on, I’ll host today,” the clever Li Qingzhao said, patting the purse at her waist and smiling.

“In that case, I must accept your kind invitation. Thank you, Miss Li.” Li Sanjian replied cheerfully, quickening his pace to walk side by side with her toward the stairs.

To refuse again would be the height of foolishness.

Sure enough, two idle men at the entrance were indeed collecting payment for admission—two hundred cash per person.

For two, that was four hundred coins—almost half a string. Li Sanjian had barely forty or fifty coppers in his pocket.

Fortunately, Li Qingzhao was there. She produced a delicate little purse from her belt, pinched out a silver ingot, and handed it to the collectors.

“The rest is for you,” she said with a grin.

“Thank you, generous patron! Please go right in!” Overjoyed, the men bowed deeply. The ingot was worth at least a whole string, so they had pocketed several hundred coppers in extra profit.

Though copper cash was the main currency in Song times, gold and silver, while mainly collectibles, circulated occasionally among the wealthy, and were rarely seen by ordinary folk. Only officials and the affluent typically used them.

Li Sanjian shook his head—so this was what a true heiress was like, spending freely. In fact, she was simply being normal; real extravagance, he had never witnessed.

Inside, they found a rectangular theater with a stage ten paces wide at its center, draped with curtains. The stage rose about three feet above the ground, with dressing rooms for the actors at the rear. Wooden walls enclosed the space, a thin wooden roof overhead. The stage jutted out on three open sides; the audience seating arranged in tiers below, with sumptuous private rooms on either side, all arranged around the stage.

As Li Sanjian had guessed, aside from the many seats below, the private rooms flanking the stage were lavishly decorated—and, of course, expensive.

Li Qingzhao chose an elegant suite with an excellent view of the stage, unobstructed and clear from every angle. Inside the suite was a small table set with teapots and cups.

Thanks to Li Qingzhao’s generous tipping, several attendants soon brought trays of fruits, seeds, peanuts, and wine, packing the table full.

“Please, Miss,” Li Sanjian said, diligently pouring wine for Li Qingzhao before seating himself discreetly beside her, his demeanor composed, his gaze fixed on the stage.

Li Qingzhao shot him a sidelong glance but didn’t rebuke him. Yet the scent of him made her heart flutter, so she nervously cracked sunflower seeds, trying to maintain composure—though in her distraction, she swallowed one whole, shell and all.

Li Sanjian stole glances at the elegant Li Qingzhao beside him, the faint fragrance she wore making his heart race.

By then, the play had already begun, though neither of them had noticed when…