Training with the courtesans is more difficult than I imagined. Dancing, calligraphy, drinking, smooth talking and playing instruments. All are some of the things they need to know. They are practically scholars with a bad name.
I used to look down on these people. The noble class looks down on them. I was one of them. I looked down on my own mother. I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t make an honest living. Not that this is not honest work, but she couldn’t have found something more appealing to do. Continue reading