Once inside, Bai Rui headed straight to Bai Qingqing’s side. She poured him a cup of tea and handed it over, then offered him some pastries.

Bai Rui’s eyes lit up, moved to the brink of tears. “No one treats me as well as you do, Sis.”

Bai Jinghuai glared at him. “Cut the mush. Weren’t you going to explain? Go on!”

This time, Bai Rui truly hadn’t gone looking for trouble. He hadn’t even wanted to go to the brothel—it was one of his classmates who dragged him there, insisting that none of them had ever been, and with Bai Rui along, they felt more secure.

“…We didn’t do much. Just hired a dancer to perform. I didn’t even drink the wine there—nothing special about it. The dancing was slow and twisty and not particularly fun to watch. The food was average, nowhere near as good as Baiwei Pavilion’s, especially not the crispy pigeon…”

“Get to the point!”

“Oh… right.”

Bai Rui had found it boring soon after sitting down, but the others were still fired up and even teased him for being dull and unromantic.

He normally got along fine with them, so he forced himself to stay a bit longer—but the longer he stayed, the more off it felt.

“There was this thick scent in the room—clung to you like a shadow. The more I smelled it, the heavier my head got. I only felt better after taking out the sachet you gave me, Sis. After that, I just wanted to leave. But before I could, the others suddenly started acting… different.”

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These were fellow students—usually reserved and proper. They wouldn’t have dared set foot in a brothel without dragging Bai Rui along to boost their courage. But the ones who’d been all bashful and self-righteous before had suddenly become bold and wild.

Their words and actions turned reckless, their thoughts loose and erratic. They spoke of things they should never speak of—private details, shameful past deeds, even flung at the dancers like it was nothing. Laughing, grabbing at the women like common scoundrels.

Bai Rui had sensed something was wrong and tried to talk them down. But they turned on him, fists flying, mouths full of curses. They called him a pampered brat, said he threw his weight around with the Duke’s name, and that they’d only ever tolerated him because of his family.

He’d almost walked away, but in the end, he didn’t. Things unfolded just as Bai Jinghuai had said—fists flew onto the street, and eventually their servants had to pull them apart and drag them home.

“I’m telling the truth. It was like they were possessed—nothing like their usual selves. If I hadn’t dragged them out of there, who knows what disaster might’ve happened?”

Bai Rui spoke with conviction. Bai Jinghuai slammed his hand on the table with a loud smack. “So now you think you’re in the right? None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t gone there in the first place! Huh? And to get them out, you had to throw punches? Huh? Got arms now, so you just have to show them off?!”

“Well, they started calling me names! Am I supposed to just take it? No way.”

Bai Jinghuai was so furious he nearly collapsed backward and reached again for the stick. Bai Rui bolted—but before he could escape, Bai Qingqing caught hold of his sleeve.

“What you said—is it true? That incense… can really make someone lose their mind?”

There was the faintest tremble in her voice. Bai Rui thought he’d scared her and quickly softened his tone. “Don’t worry, Sis. I’m fine. The sachet you gave me worked great. And I already reported it before I came back—maybe it’s something else causing it.”

He gently tried to reassure her, then leapt up again as round two of their “Fatherly Affection and Filial Piety” performance commenced.

Bai Qingqing’s hands were ice-cold. When Ning Yan had mentioned it, she’d only felt a vague concern. But hearing Bai Rui’s account just now—she felt real fear for the first time.

She had nearly brought harm to her little brother.