Love in Red Dust - Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Dingyi returned home when the rain had eased slightly, riding her horse with the umbrella the Prince had given her slung over her shoulder.

It was pitch black out. Households lining the street had lit their lamps. Passing by their windows, she looked up by the dim, residual light; the umbrella was of a style used by noble houses, made of yellow-brown cloth brushed with tung oil, with ribs crafted more delicately than ordinary ones. The things princes and nobles used emphasized elegance—anything too clunky or crude wouldn't do; carrying such a thing would be a loss of status. They were nothing like commoners like her; apart from umbrellas, they would dare to run all over the street with a wicker basket strapped to their heads.

The raindrops pattered against the canopy of the umbrella. As she gripped the carved handle, she recalled the moment the Twelfth Prince had pulled her aside, as if she could still remember the warmth of his touch. Having mingled in the markets for years and existing at the very bottom of society, she didn't know what powerful and influential clansmen were usually like, but as for the Twelfth Prince, he embodied every good quality she could imagine—so good that she couldn't find the words to describe him.

In truth, his hearing impairment wasn't really a hindrance. He couldn't hear the backbiting or the malicious gossip behind his back. Coming and going alone, whether he was praised or maligned, none of it ever crossed his threshold. It was just that the world must be lonely; with no one to converse with him face-to-face, he was likely forced to sit in silence by himself, which was quite a sad thought.

If only she could enter the residence; that would be wonderful, Dingyi thought regretfully, rotating the handle of the umbrella. A girl’s heart is delicate; if she saw him being isolated, she could keep him company so he wouldn't have to sit there alone like a fool. A guard as attentive as her, who could block blades and keep him company in conversation—what more could one ask for? It was a pity that he didn't look kindly upon her, and she was too embarrassed to be insistently clingy. After all, he didn't owe her anything. If she lost her head and got carried away just because someone gave her a kind look, she would be showing herself to be ungrateful. Fortunately, she had this umbrella; just like in the plays, a seed had been sown, and a fruit would grow. With this back-and-forth, at least there would be a chance to meet again.

On the whole, things were going quite smoothly. Having spoken for a while today, they were a step closer, making it easier to attach herself to him next time. If she wanted to follow the expedition north, he was the only one she could rely on. The Seventh Prince was also heading to Ningguta, but that man was not someone to be trifled with; he had nearly cost her her life several times. Even if she had to walk there alone, she would absolutely never venture anywhere near the Prince Xian residence.

The horse's hooves clattered. Upon entering the alley, she heard the sound of a stone chime—dang... dang... dang...—which sounded a bit eerie in the pitch-black night. It wasn't the custom to bang gongs or cymbals late at night, for fear of disturbing the neighbors. The real commotion would be the next day, when the wind and percussion players would start in, ooh-lee, ooh-lee, playing "Songs of the Mourning Emperor." Then there would be a group of monks chanting scriptures and performing the "Burning of the Mouth" ritual; for commoners, a funeral was no less expensive than a wedding.

Dingyi hitched the horse and went inside. Her master and a few neighbors were sitting at the table talking by an oil lamp, a large tea bowl sitting on the table. When they saw her, they asked, "Why were you gone for so long? Ma the leatherworker already left; you’re only just getting back?"

She wiped her face with a towel and said, "He was putting on airs and refused to come, claiming it was bad luck and that he had to deliver an umbrella to his son. I had no choice but to agree to run the errand for him."

Xiazhi crossed his arms and strolled to the doorway, leaning against the frame to look at the umbrella. "Wasn't that for someone else? Why did you bring it back yourself?"

She replied, "That wasn't the one. Ma the leatherworker's son is a cook at Prince Chun's residence. I delivered it there, but I got trapped by the heavy rain on the way back and happened to run into the Twelfth Prince. He kindly lent it to me; I have to return it to him tomorrow."

Xiazhi sucked his teeth as if his gums ached. "How do you keep running into him? This is too much of a coincidence."

There were even bigger coincidences—their birthdays were the same day. If she were to script it, it could be turned into a play. She didn't need to explain the details to him too clearly and just said, "I delivered it to his residence, so how could I not run into him?"

Xiazhi kicked a puddle of mud out from in front of the door. "They say the gates of the nobility are as deep as the sea, so how does it look like the Prince Chun residence is just a small courtyard house that you can see whenever you visit... Let me tell you, making friends is the same as a girl getting married—it requires social parity. They are princes and nobles; if we keep clinging to them, we won't end up with anything good."

Dingyi rolled her eyes at him. "If we didn't make friends with them, you’d still be locked in the dog kennel right now!" Her retort left Xiazhi disgruntled. She ignored him and asked her master, "How did you settle things with Ma the leatherworker’s money? How much did he want?"

Wu Changgeng tapped out his pipe. "Was it you who said to demand it from the eldest sister-in-law?"

She blinked her eyes and said, "Yes, we can't let her off easy."

"These are other people's family affairs; you kids shouldn't stick your noses in." Wu Changgeng coughed with a long, drawn-out tone. "He did go to ask her for it, but the eldest sister-in-law said she had no money, only her life to give. In the end, everyone chipped in. She gave one tael, which they felt was too little, so they added another string of coins to send him away. Old Man Xi is pitiful; he cried to the east and the west, completely at his wit's end."

Only now that his wife was dead did he know how to cry? Where was he before? This eldest sister-in-law was truly overbearing; she made people’s teeth itch with rage. "She’s playing the rascal to the end! Haven't the eldest sister-in-law's maternal family arrived yet? If they don't come soon, the coffin will be sealed and the matter will be over."

"Her maternal family is in Fangshan; they’ve already sent word to report the funeral. The Xi family wanted to bury her quietly, but the neighborhood wouldn't have it. They said that wouldn't do—a young girl in the prime of her life married into their house and was bullied to death, and to bury her without a word or a sound? Her brother, the adjutant, would surely crack your skull open." Sanqingzi spoke with spittle flying. "Old Man Xi is the type who can't stand being intimidated. After thinking about it, he realized they were right; come autumn and the settling of accounts, there would be no one to speak up for him. So, with tears in his eyes, he set up the benches and asked everyone to help lift the coffin."

Sanqingzi’s wife rubbed her belly and sighed, "It’s hard to be a woman. Married into a household, facing wolves in front and tigers behind. Since she’s already gone, she should have lived a quiet life, but then this troublemaking sister-in-law came along. The eldest daughter-in-law of the Xi family was such a gentle person, always greeting everyone as she went in and out. Who would have thought she would end up taking this path? She was truly driven to the edge."

Sanqingzi muttered, "That’s why they say women are narrow-minded. How big of a deal was it? She dug her own grave; isn't that pathetic?"

Dingyi looked outside. The rain had stopped. The white paper funeral decorations on the Xi family's door were damp and drooping. In the house, silhouettes moved about—it was the neighbors helping with the arrangements. That troublemaker was nowhere to be seen; she didn't know if she had hidden away, but either way, no one could do anything to her now. Everyone was just waiting for her maternal family to come and seek justice. The woman couldn't be saved, but at least they could give the sister-in-law a sound beating to vent their anger.

They stretched their necks in anticipation, and to their surprise, they really did come. A large group of soldiers flooded into the courtyard gate, all with their pant legs tied and torches held high. Standing tall and straight, they clearly looked like government men. Following behind was a broad-shouldered, middle-aged man. His mutton-chop whiskers had been shaved, leaving a patch of blue stubble on his chin. Holding the hilt of his waist sword, he strode straight toward the Xi family’s house. Perhaps knowing that his sister had died under suspicious circumstances, the female relatives of the family had come too—it was a funeral, so there were no taboos about women not leaving the house. Judging by their attire, they were the adjutant’s wife and aunts, who started wailing before they even entered the room.

Suddenly, there was a chorus of weeping. The soft-hearted neighbors wiped away tears as well. Dingyi and Sanqingzi’s couple squeezed in to watch. The adjutant stood before the coffin, staring at the stitches on his sister's neck, his whole body trembling. He reached out and grabbed Old Man Xi by the collar, his voice distorted, shaking him violently. "What did you do to my sister? What happened to her?" He raised his fist and punched him. "I'll beat you to death, you traitor! How did you come to our house to propose marriage back then? You said you didn't want the older sister, you wanted the younger one... Now that you’ve gotten the younger sister, this is the end she comes to! Why didn't you die instead? How do you still have the face to breathe?"

The adjutant no longer cared about propriety; his massive fists flew everywhere. No one dared to stop him—he was a military man with endless strength. As for Old Man Xi, he curled up to dodge, shielding his head. He was useless and had wronged his wife to death, so he deserved a beating. The adjutant struck hard; before long, he had beaten the man until his face was black and blue. He knelt before his sister's coffin, weeping and bumping his head against the coffin lid. "You took the easy way out and walked away, but what about me? How am I supposed to explain this? You should have just taken me with you! Why am I still alive? What is there left to live for?"

Someone in the courtyard was spiteful; they didn't know where they had dug the eldest sister-in-law out from, but they pushed her toward the adjutant. "You were always bullying the eldest daughter-in-law and drove her to cut her own throat. Now that her brother is here, why don't you say a few words, sister-in-law!"

The adjutant heard the implication. His sister was a person who cared about appearances; whenever she returned to her maiden home, apart from cadging money, she never said a word. So, it turned out she had been tormented to the point of not being able to live. This stupid sister—if she couldn't out-argue or out-fight her, didn't she know how to come home and ask for help? Such a dog-eaten piece of trash should have been bound hand and foot and thrown into a pond to end it all. Why did she have to sacrifice her own life? His eyes filled with fire as he gritted his teeth and asked, "Our sister died because of you. Are you satisfied now?"

The eldest sister-in-law was a tough character; she didn't show stage fright and retorted, "Sir, you’re wrong to say that. The yamen has already been here to look; the eldest daughter-in-law committed suicide, and it has nothing to do with anyone else. You walk in official circles, so you must know that one has to be reasonable. No one held a knife to her throat; she was the one who couldn't handle things. Who can she blame? Don't bully us just because you’re a man and we’re orphans and widows."

These words left the adjutant speechless. He couldn't use his fists anymore, but that didn't matter—there were still his wife and the aunts of the family. The adjutant’s wife came from the Lower Three Banners and had a sharp tongue; the ability to stir up trouble was something she had brought with her as part of her dowry. They hadn't gotten along as sisters-in-law in the past, but that was ancient history. Now that something had happened, they were kin, and they couldn't let her be trampled to death for nothing. Without a word, she reached out and grabbed the eldest sister-in-law by the top of her head, calling out to those around her, "Still watching? Hit her!"

And so, a barrage of kicks and punches ensued; the eldest sister-in-law was beaten until she was screaming for her parents. When women fight, grabbing hair and tearing clothes are their trump cards. The eldest sister-in-law couldn't handle so many people and was soon lying on the ground, disheveled, her pale flesh exposed through her tattered clothes. The adjutant’s wife stepped on her and sneered, "Look at this! She bullied our sister until she had no way to live, but she’s fattened herself up nicely! Her husband is dead, and she’s living like a parasite, acting like an empress dowager as soon as she returns to her maiden home. Someone! Bring me some fabric! Our sister had no children, so I’ll have to find someone to wear the mourning clothes and see her off." As she spoke, she gritted her teeth and dragged the woman under the coffin, forcing her to kowtow. "Cry for the dead! Cry your heart out! You’ll still have to carry the banner and drop the basin later. You killed someone and think you can just muddle through? Do you think us Dings are easy to bully?"

My, what a mess it was. The eldest sister-in-law had two children who were screaming for their mother. The people on the sidelines were saying, "These two brats aren't any good either. Rats will always dig holes; they’re just like their mother."

In truth, Dingyi had been angry at the start, feeling the eldest sister-in-law needed a lesson. But after seeing her beaten like this, she felt an inexplicable sense of sorrow. Dingyi couldn't bear to watch any longer; at this rate, she really might be beaten to death. She glanced at Xiazhi. "They aren't planning to stop, are they?"

Xiazhi picked his teeth and said, "They have to let the person vent their anger; after all, it’s a human life. It wasn't just once or twice they fought—every day she was finding fault. Why? We don't eat her food; if it were me, I wouldn't be able to stand it either."

She rubbed her hands together. "Don't beat her to death. If there's another death, this whole courtyard is full of Shuntian Prefecture people."

Xiazhi waved his hand. "She won't die. There’s no blood; just a bit of tearing, it won't be fatal. Besides, even if she dies, it doesn't matter. The main party is an adjutant; if the sky falls, someone will hold it up."

Since that was the case, she didn't worry about it. She stepped back two paces, intending to sneak away quietly. Just as she was about to leave, she ran into the deacon in charge of the funeral, who said, "Tree, we have work. The adjutant has ordered us to hire another group of wind and percussion players. Are you willing to come? It’s the same as usual—you just blow your trumpet for half the day, and I’ll give you twenty-four copper coins."

Back when Dingyi didn't have a steady job, she had once followed others doing this to earn some extra money. She played the trumpet well, especially the "Joyous Rush" piece played at weddings; the notes were high-pitched, the rhythm fast, and she could play with great flair in a single breath. All the performers in the area knew her.

It wasn't a good reputation, and it was quite shameful, but people lived to make money. She didn't think of herself as a woman, because she didn't have the status for it yet. The effort she was making now was so that she could wear a skirt and do up her hair one day sooner. She said, "I’ll go ask my master, but save me a seat—I’ll come.”