Love in Red Dust - Chapter 17
Chapter 17
What was the point in seeing him? The goods had already been snatched away. Since the Seventh Prince had spoken, the Twelfth Prince couldn't very well cause friction between brothers over a small person like her. She felt settled now; the Seventh Prince’s methods were truly high-level—with a slight flick of his little finger, he had resolved a problem that had plagued her for a long time.
She handed the umbrella to Guan Zhaojing and bowed deeply. "Sorry to trouble you, Chief Steward. Please thank His Highness for his repeated care on my behalf. As you can see, things have turned into this mess..." She shook her head, dejected. "I won't say more. I’m heading back; I left the funeral rites unfinished, and it’s not right for me to walk off halfway through."
Guan Zhaojing blinked. "You’re leaving just like that?"
"Yes," she replied. "There’s nothing else for it. I’d better go back and serve my master properly!" She performed a formal bow and said, "I’ll take my leave now, please stay."
She felt miserable, with a sense of relief that went all the way down to her heels. Just as she straightened up to retreat, Guan Zhaojing suddenly turned and ran, his black cloth boots thumping against the ground. Surprised, she looked up and saw someone approaching along the corridor. He was dressed in a simple dark-blue robe, with a belt adorned with various hanging accessories. He didn't look hurried, yet his pace was brisk. Quite a coincidence—it was the Twelfth Prince himself.
Dingyi forgot she was supposed to move. Watching him approach from afar, she wondered if he had heard she was here and had come to greet her. She grinned to herself, mocking her own imagination, and when he drew near, she stepped aside.
"You came?" The Prince actually stopped right in front of her. "I was just about to go to your office. Let’s go together."
She hadn't intended to seek an audience, yet they were now traveling the same path—truly a case of "coincidence is the art of life"! Dingyi replied with a respectful "Yes," and asked, "Is Your Highness heading to the Shuntian Prefecture for official business?"
He didn't answer her because he had already stepped out the gate, and she couldn't read his lips anymore. She hurried to follow. The Prince boarded his sedan chair, and she stood respectfully to the side. As the chair was hoisted onto the shoulders of the bearers, she followed at a moderate distance. With the sun burning her skin, she suddenly felt that no matter how big the problem was, it wasn't the worst thing; she still felt quite cheerful.
Hongce sat in the cooling sedan, his brow furrowed, fingers tapping slowly against his knee. Because he had reported to the Emperor, the departure date had been moved up by more than half a month, and there were several files he needed to review before leaving. Having no rest in this sweltering heat would make anyone a bit hot-tempered. But acting on imperial business allowed for no slack. People like them were, to put it nicely, imperial relatives; to put it bluntly, they were high-ranking servants. Everyone saw them entering and exiting in eight-bearer sedan chairs, but who saw them waiting for imperial orders outside the Western Gate under the scorching sun? Hongtao had come to vent his anger at him earlier, blaming him for reporting the whereabouts of Wen Lu's son. Originally, they had planned to leave after the Mid-Autumn Festival. After all, it was a long way out of the capital, and baking on the loess plains was simply not a life for a pampered Prince Xian. The planning had been sound, but he hadn't expected to be derailed halfway through. Thus, Hongtao blamed him, saying he was obsessed with official business and had dragged him along to eat dust.
Recalling this, he curled his lips in a smile that was hard to define. Everyone had their own standpoint, and not everyone could just muddle through. To gain a foothold in the imperial court, who didn't have some capital behind them? If the Khalkha Mongols had behaved, he would have been the most confident among all the princes. But now? He had always felt like a man living in disgrace; if he didn't put in his best effort, he might be sent to an outer post again, for ten or twenty years... How many ten-year periods does a person have in a lifetime to waste? He was only twenty-three, yet he felt as though he had seen all the vicissitudes of the world—an experience Hongtao would probably never have in his entire life.
Even when reprimanded, he would respond with a smile. No matter how stifled he felt inside, he remained humble on the surface. People need to be polished, and once polished and thrown out, as long as you are given a platform the size of a bowl bottom, you can spin smoothly—that was what his master had said over a decade ago. Now that he understood it, looking back, the cost had been truly high.
He sighed against the side of the sedan, his tense limbs gradually relaxing. He turned to look outside and saw an additional person following the sedan. Their plain clothes were ordinary, washed until they were a bit faded, but clean and tidy. The person walked without any head covering, a pair of curved eyes showing faint traces of a smile on their cheeks. Coming from the lower classes, their skin was surprisingly good; misted with sweat, it looked like fine rice paper sprinkled with gold dust, transparent and pure under the sunlight. Hongce took a closer look—the face and figure didn't seem to match the description. Then, he thought, everyone in this world was living with all their might. A small person, running here and there, was a bit laughable, but even more so, pitiable.
He lifted the curtain and asked gently, "How long have you been here?"
Dingyi hurriedly replied, "I’ve been here a while. I ran into the Seventh Prince and, following his instructions, was delayed for some time."
He hummed, "Are you from Beijing?"
The Prince asked this because his hearing was poor, and he couldn't catch her accent. She felt her Beijing dialect was quite standard. Although she had been away for six years and had picked up some Hebei flavor, after returning to the capital for another six years, she had almost corrected it.
"No, my roots are in Shanxi. I followed my parents to various places before we finally settled in Langfang. I spent some time in Beijing when I was a child, but later we moved. It wasn't until I became my master’s apprentice that I returned to Beijing with him."
Hongce nodded. "You came to Beijing alone? Who else is in your family?"
Dingyi was so dazzled by the sun that she couldn't keep her eyes open. She shaded her brow with her hand and said slowly, "My parents passed away early, and they entrusted me to my godmother's care. Later, my godmother also passed away, leaving only my godfather. I don't get along with him, so we rarely see each other. Whenever he runs out of money, he comes to the city to find me. I give him the majority of the salary I’ve saved, and he leaves as soon as he gets the money."
"You give him the majority? What about yourself? Don't you need to eat and drink in the capital?"
It was so rare for a Prince to show such concern for the hardships of the lower classes! He sat behind the carved window, tilting his head slightly. Two hollowed-out small gold seals hanging from his hair crown clicked against the ebony lattice, making a dull, muffled sound. Including previous times, this was the fourth time she had seen him. He had always been calm, well-bred, and educated; talking to him made her feel at ease. Previously, whenever she heard the Yuwen family mentioned, her heart would tremble—once bitten, twice shy. But after meeting this lord, leaving his birth aside, he was truly rare. Among the imperial royalty in the capital, who would be willing to chat about family matters with the lower classes? He was different from them; whether he looked down on her or not, at least he acknowledged her, which was already quite good.
Dingyi smiled. "I was in their family when I was very young. Now that I can earn a little, it’s only right to honor him. As for myself, I have my master and my senior brother looking after me; I never go hungry. My master and senior brother treat me well, and when I have some success in the future, I must repay them." She tilted her neck embarrassedly. "That’s why I couldn't sit idly by when my senior brother got into trouble last time. I rashly went to your residence to beg—it’s so shameful to think about now. It was your benevolence; I didn't dare to hope for much, but you were willing to help, which solved my most urgent crisis. My senior brother wanted to kowtow to you at the residence last time, but he was blocked by the gate guards. He was so frustrated when he came back, constantly muttering about how he didn't know how to thank you enough."
Hongce didn't care much about such things. People always said a Prince was noble, but that nobility only existed when one was still a young prince. In truth, after opening his own office and establishing his own residence, having moved through the marketplaces every day, he had long since lost that air of arrogance. Life is life—one cannot exist without eating the food of the mortal world; even the descendants of dragons and phoenixes eat the same grain. People in the outside world—those he respected, he would befriend, regardless of their social standing. In the residences of his brothers, actors or Western painters were treated as honored guests upon arrival. In the end, the battle for the throne was like a military campaign; there was only one winner. As for the rest, it didn't matter if you truly had the talent of an emperor or were merely material for a peddler or a porter.
"As you said, the more friends you have, the more paths you have." He slowly turned his thumb ring, a faint smile appearing on his lips. "What’s past is past; there's no need to hold onto it. I just think it’s not worth sacrificing a human life for a dog."
"Your Highness is right," she bowed and agreed. Thinking of the Seventh Prince made her feel so miserable—he was the type to do whatever was most unpleasant to others. She wanted to talk about today’s encounter, but then she reconsidered. After all, they were brothers—though not born of the same mother, they were much closer than she was to either of them. Should she tell him, "I don't like moving flowerpots for the Seventh Prince; I want to be your bodyguard"? That wouldn't be appropriate.
She took a long breath and looked at the Twelfth Prince again. He was someone untainted; there was no need to trouble him with such trifles. She changed to a more relaxed tone and asked, "What fruits do you like, Your Highness? I don't have the money for expensive things, so I can only pick up some small trifles. Before coming today, I bought some water chestnuts and honey-scented melons by the lake, but unfortunately, I ran into the Seventh Prince and he snatched them away..." Her face showed sorrow. "Although they aren't worth much, they were meant to honor you, and now I’ve returned to give back your umbrella empty-handed. How embarrassing!"
The Seventh Prince snatching his fruit—it was quite amusing to hear it from him. Hongce said, "You owe the Seventh Prince. Not to mention him taking them, you should have bought more to send over. If you lose etiquette, people will be unhappy. As for me, I don't eat those often, so you don't need to bother."
Dingyi said, "You are right. I mentioned the matter of apologizing to the Seventh Prince to my senior brother; I’m not sure if he has done it yet. I will ask him later. It is our fault for lacking etiquette first; it’s never good to slight others. But why don't you like fruit? My senior brother is a glutton; he eats whatever he finds in my room. Last time I climbed a tree to pick a bowl of mulberries, washed them, and left them there. It just so happened that my master called me; I was gone for the time it takes to burn an incense stick, and when I returned, the plate was empty."
Hongce murmured, "Mulberries... I haven't eaten them in over ten years. I’ve always been stationed in Khalkha. The climate there is wrong, so there are no melons or fruits. What impressed me most was the sea buckthorn—that kind of small fruit that is both sour and sweet. When I first arrived, I thought it was delicious. I would sit on a dirt mound, holding the strings of berries, and could eat a whole basket in half a day. But after eating it over and over, I eventually grew tired of it."
Dingyi’s eyes brightened. "Then do you like mulberries? I will pick some for you. There is a large mulberry tree behind our courtyard," she gestured upwards, "it's that tall, and the taste is wonderful. Once fully ripe, it’s not sour at all."
When he was happy, his eyes had a warm light, and when he smiled, his eyes would crinkle into a shining golden circle.
"There are rules in the palace. Princes start their education at the age of six and leave their foster mothers to move to the Princes' quarters. I lived in the South Three Quarters back then, which is adjacent to the Imperial Stables. There was a small mulberry grove there, said to be for the Empress's sericulture. I was young then, naive, and after class, I would follow my brothers to pick mulberries. I was short, so I could only pick what others left behind. The unripe ones were red, and we didn't wash them; we’d just blow off the dust and eat them—they were so sour!" Recalling his childhood, he told the story now with a different kind of flavor. Back then, they weren't picky because they were together with their brothers; no matter how sour they were, they felt delicious. He had always valued affection deeply, but he had sent his heart toward the bright moon, only to have the moon shine on a ditch; his sincerity might not have been seen as credible or reliable by others. After his mother lost power, they were all unwilling to get too close to him. To his face, they called his name; behind his back, they called him a "Tartar."
"Haven't you eaten them since? Are mulberries just sour in your memory?" Dingyi didn't know that small mulberries could evoke so many emotions in him. She had always thought that the Emperor's sons sat there, ordering eunuchs to feed them, saying, "Come here, feed this to me, feed that to me," and then waiting with their mouths wide open.
Hongce shook his head with some regret. "I didn't get to pick them many times. The Fifth Prince and the Seventh Prince fought, and when the news reached the ears of the Retired Emperor, he issued an order to have the mulberry grove fenced off."
"Then I will send some to you when I have time. The tree at our place is very old, almost like it has a spirit; the fruit it bears is especially sweet." She smiled and asked, "When are you leaving? I heard from Chief Steward Guan that it’s at the beginning of next month?"
He hummed. "In about ten days."
She felt a bit dejected, the corners of her mouth drooping as she muttered, "So soon? I actually wanted to go along with you, but now that’s impossible."
He forgot that she could read lips clearly; even if he didn't speak, he could see everything in her eyes. In fact, this person was quite interesting. After talking a few times, he felt she was different from the usual sycophants. Although she had some petty slyness, there was something pure in her character. Therefore, it seemed not bad to find a small position for her to serve by his side and have someone to talk to when he was bored, spending leisure time in good company.