Love in Red Dust - Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Me?" She was stunned. "You overestimate me; I don’t know how to do anything like that! I can run errands for you or handle simple chores, but this task... I truly can't do it."

Master Xi smacked his lips. "What's there to fear? You work in the 'Red Profession'—picking up heads every day. After seeing it so often, it’s no different than picking up watermelons."

That was said far too lightly. What did he mean, picking up heads every day? Xiazhi couldn't listen to this any longer and retorted: "When a criminal meets his end, his family comes to collect the body. If they have no home or family, people from the Huai Tree Residence come to take them away. We don't have to do that kind of work."

Hearing this, Master Xi was at a loss again. "Then what should I do?"

Wu Changgeng patted his knee and said: "An executioner is responsible for the cutting, not the cleaning. It’s not that our little Shu is unwilling to help, but the founding master has strict rules; we dare not disobey. I think you should go find Ma the leatherworker. If you don’t have enough money, everyone in the courtyard can pool together, and you can add a bit more yourself. Once it’s sewn up and the clothes are changed, hurry and put her in the coffin. When her family comes later and sees her ruined like that..."

Master Xi cupped his hands together. "Then Master Wu, let me thank you in advance. After I send off my dead-ghost wife, I will come back to properly repay you. Oh, you see, I’ve never encountered such a thing. At this moment, I wish the one lying there was me." A grown man, he wiped his eyes with his rolled-up sleeves and wept. He wept truly and sadly, weeping for the fact that he was now alone, with no one left even to pour out his foot-washing water in the future.

Wu Changgeng pressed his hand down, saying, "Don't say such things. Among neighbors, we don't speak like that. How about this: Little Shu will make a run to Vegetable Market Street, and I will call everyone over here to discuss it. We’ll scrape together what we can as our funeral gift. Do you think that will work?"

Master Xi hung his head in dejection and gave a soft sigh. "Whatever you say. I must go back and have our eldest sister-in-law hide. If she falls into the hands of the in-laws..."

Didn't she deserve a lesson? Xiazhi felt that if the eldest sister were beaten to death, she would be getting what she deserved. He interjected: "You can't let her leave! If she leaves and the eldest sister-in-law's family can't find the culprit, won't they bury you alive? In a matter this big, can you really hide from it? You must admit your mistakes where they are due and kowtow where it is needed; you have to give them an explanation."

Master Xi was like a frost-bitten eggplant, stuttering: "Her older brother is at least a Vice-Brigadier General. It’s just that I’m afraid."

He knew to be afraid now, but it was already too late. Dingyi was very surprised. "Your wife was the sister of a Brigadier General?"

A so-called Brigadier General was a Jala Janggin, a third-rank official for a primary, or fourth for a deputy. While not particularly prominent in a city filled with high officials, for a commoner, it was more than enough weight to throw around. She hadn't known before and felt saddened by Mrs. Xi's death, but now that she knew, she felt even more that it was a tragedy. It wasn't as if her maiden family had no one; to suffer and endure hardship with a spineless husband only to meet such a miserable end—what was the point? As Dingyi stepped over the threshold, she couldn't help but mutter a parting insult: "It’s not for me to say, but a married sister-in-law coming back to run the household—your family’s reputation is truly rare." Master Xi let out a sigh from the depths of his lungs, but she didn't hear what else he said as she ducked under the curtain and descended the steps.

The distance from Tongfu Alley to Vegetable Market Street was quite long, and walking it would waste half a day’s worth of footwork. She stood in the courtyard and looked; it was already dusk, and massive black clouds were piling up in the northwest. It looked like the weather was about to turn. Xiazhi hung out of the window and shouted: "Unload the cart, go by horse. When you see Ma the leatherworker, don't haggle with him; just trick him into coming first, and talk later."

Dingyi agreed and went to the back shed to lead out the horse. Over the years of struggling, the delicate nature of a young girl had long since been polished away. Driving carts, riding horses, hauling coal—there was no work in this world she couldn't do. If this were in the past, she wouldn't have dared to imagine it. Han families and Bannermen raised girls differently; the Banner people valued natural feet, and their women were wild and capable. Han women were not like that. Han people kept a pair of small bound feet, twisting and turning, taking half a day to walk a short distance, and usually, they were just kept in the boudoir, looking down at flowing springs and listening to the wind, waiting to be married off.

If her parents were still alive now and saw her hitching up her robes to mount a horse, they would surely die of shock all over again. But there was no help for it; the environment dictated it. Who would want to live in the mud and water like this? It was all for the sake of survival. For the common people in the marketplace, just taking a breath was difficult. Being able to earn a living following her master as she did was already a tremendous stroke of luck.

The heavy rain was imminent, and dull rumbles of thunder rolled overhead. It wasn't pouring yet, but it urged her along as if trying to scare her. Regarding the roads of Beijing, there was a saying: "No wind, three feet of dust; with rain, a street of mud." One had to conduct business while the ground was dry. If it started to rain, it would become a muddy mess, making it impossible to travel.

She whipped the horse to a gallop, lashing it hard. When she arrived at the leather shop and explained her purpose, Ma the leatherworker looked a bit troubled. "I’ve heard of this matter. You see, if it were an official court-ordered execution, I would dare to act, but this kind of mysterious, unclear death... I can't touch it lightly. Don't say I'm being difficult; who doesn't have a bit of reverence for the ghosts and gods? Otherwise, there wouldn't be so many people burning incense at the Dongyue Temple during the New Year." Lowering his voice, he continued: "Those with deep grievances—whoever touches them gets entangled. It’s not much money to earn, but attracting such bad luck—why bother?"

Dingyi knew the ways of small-time businessmen. Acting difficult now was just to raise the price, to make the suffering victim struggle so that he could extract more silver. She smiled apologetically and said: "East City, West City, who doesn't know of your ability? This is a deed of accumulating merit, and the dead ghost will be too grateful to you to thank you enough. What are you afraid of?"

"Have you ever met a ghost that reasons?" Ma the leatherworker lowered his eyelids and tapped the copper nails on his saddle, saying indifferently: "Once dead, their intelligence is extinguished; they can't distinguish between good and evil."

She covered her mouth and murmured: "The family says they won't treat you unfairly. Mrs. Xi committed suicide after quarreling with her sister-in-law, and the sister-in-law is feeling guilty right now. If you ask her for the money, she won't dare refuse."

Seeing there was a chance, Ma the leatherworker’s attitude softened. He immediately changed his tone to something more materialistic, so she had to keep spinning the conversation. He sucked his teeth and muttered: "It still won't work. It’s about to storm, and my son doesn't have an umbrella after his shift. I have to go deliver it to him."

How pretentious! Dingyi gritted her teeth and asked: "Where is your son working? Can I deliver it for you? Look, this is a fire-at-the-eyebrows emergency. Hurry and take your needles and thread and go; a whole house full of people is waiting for you!"

Ma the leatherworker saw the timing was right and nodded: "Fine, you’re doing this for others, and if I keep pushing, I’ll look unrighteous." He took an oil-paper umbrella from the wall and handed it to her. "My son’s name is Ma Lianying. He’s a cook at Prince Chun's residence on the north bank of Houhai. That kid can stir-fry a dish beautifully. When the Prince wants to give someone a banquet, he sends my son to take care of it. Like those eight bowls and eight dishes, plus snacks and fruits—he doesn't need anyone to help. He can handle it all by himself."

When Dingyi heard it was Prince Chun's residence, she thought it was quite a coincidence. She casually praised him: "Your son is truly accomplished. No matter how bad the world gets, a cook will never go hungry. It’s a good trade." She wrapped up his bundle and pushed him out the door. "Hurry up and go. If it starts to rain, and the mule sprains its hoof, it’ll be all over."

Ma the leatherworker wobbled toward Dengshikou, and she tucked the umbrella under her arm and headed straight for Prince Chun's residence. The Prince’s residence was solemn, just like the last time, and she felt a sense of awe. When she arrived at the Asi gate to look for the gatekeeper, it was the same man, so she was familiar. He pointed a finger at her. "You again!"

Dingyi smiled and said: "I’m troubling you. I’m looking for Ma Lianying. His father entrusted me to bring him an umbrella."

The gatekeeper said, "Oh. Ma the cook went to a banquet. He’s not here."

She didn't quite understand. "Isn't he a cook? Why is he eating at a banquet? If he’s out at a restaurant, who’s doing the work in the residence?"

"Huibin Tower has new dishes. You think they’re eating for free? They’re stealing techniques! After eating, they bring the skills back and store them in their bellies. If the master orders it one day, they can make it on the spot. That’s the job of these cooks." The gatekeeper chatted with her for half a day, stood behind the threshold, and gestured with his finger: "Leave the umbrella here; I'll give it to him when he returns. Loiterers are not allowed in front of the Prince's residence. Go on back."

That was the rule of the elite households. High families are as deep as the sea; with such a massive estate and layers of courtyards, if you want to see someone, it's harder than ascending to heaven.

Dingyi felt a bit disappointed. She usually understood clearly what she was doing, but whenever she reached Prince Chun's residence, she always had a feeling of hoping for a stroke of luck. She wanted to see the Prince—if she could catch him, it was luck; if not, it was fate. She would just sigh and that would be the end of it. As for what she would say if she met the Prince, she hadn't thought it through—nothing more than flattering him and paying respects. The Prince had a good temperament; if he nodded and tucked her into some corner, she would be able to follow along to the Changbai Mountains. It wasn't that she had to freeload or that she couldn't go on her own, but mostly, she was afraid. These past few years, the north was not peaceful; there were bandits, and if they caught a traveler, they would search their bodies and steal their silver. As a girl with no one to rely on, if she ran into trouble, she wouldn't even have a grave to cry at.

She turned away, crestfallen. This wasn't a place to linger. Just as she was about to step out from under the eaves, large raindrops began to fall, pattering down. The road, which had been kicking up dust a moment ago, instantly gave off the scent of wet earth. This was terrible. She only then remembered that she had delivered an umbrella to someone else, but she herself hadn't even brought a straw hat. Now she was stranded here, and the gatekeeper was chasing her away; she was truly stuck between a rock and a hard place.

In front of the Prince’s residence, there was no reason for them to let her wait out the rain. Her horse was still tied under the willow tree by the lake, and she braced herself, planning to rush out, mount the horse, and gallop away; she would surely make it home eventually.

Summer thunderstorms were terrifying when they broke; in the blink of an eye, the sky turned as dark as the bottom of a pot, and she couldn't even see her own fingers. Now she was done for. Where could she go? She paced anxiously, not daring to step out for fear that a bolt of lightning would turn her into charcoal. Behind her, the gatekeeper urged her: "Hurry up! If the manager catches me, I’ll get a scolding."

Kicking someone out in the middle of a downpour—this was truly heartless. But there was no help for it. Prince Chun's residence and Prince Xian's residence were essentially no different; neither was a house of charity. Putting aside the Prince himself, the servants all had this same nature. She sighed and prepared to cover her head and walk out. Just then, a figure came up the steps, holding an umbrella, unhurried. The rain dampened the hem of his robe, which looked like a thin porcelain shell covered in a deep glaze—there was a sense of vast distance, like a landscape after a misty rain.

He must be someone from the residence; surely he couldn't be here to hide from the rain as well. Her feet paused slightly as she looked at the face behind the umbrella. He lowered the umbrella. His purple-gold crown and red tassels were dim in the surroundings, but his brows and eyes became increasingly clear and distinct in the light under the eaves.

He was a man who dealt with ten thousand matters daily, and his nerves were pulled tight. He looked up at her; he should have remembered her, and his tone was very familiar: "You came?"

Dingyi was a bit awkward and murmured an affirmative. When she came to her senses, she hurriedly performed a respectful bow. "Greetings, Your Highness."

He raised his hand slightly. "Rise. What is the matter this time?”