Love in Red Dust - Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Where was the liveliest spot in the capital? That would be Qianmen Street. Everyone knew it was a place where hidden talents and thriving businesses thrived, with workshops, street stalls, and antique shops standing side by side. Wherever there was amusement, there were teahouses and wine shops for people to rest their feet. The "Elegant Pavilion" was built at the intersection of Cherry Slant Street, with Dazhalan to the east and Liulichang to the west—a prime location that could survey everything in all directions. The Seventh Prince had kept a private room there year-round to meet with fellow bird enthusiasts and discuss the finer points of bird-keeping. Over time, the Elegant Pavilion had evolved; it was no longer just a restaurant, but had become a small-scale bird market. For instance, if I acquired a "Mountain-Red" Northern Cardinal and saw that your "Purple Whistling Thrush" was excellent, we could strike a deal and trade. Today, the Seventh Prince had brought his newly acquired "Orchid-Chopping Grey-Backed Falcon" and intended to trade it to the Prince of Heng for his "Dove-Tiger Peregrine." With a thin chain tied to the bird's leg held firmly in his hand, he let the falcon perch on his shoulder and set off.

Na Jin had a cooling sedan chair ready and waiting at the Asimen Gate. While helping him into the chair, he didn't forget to remind him: "Master, the Fourth Prince is coming to the residence today. Shouldn't you wait a while before leaving?"

Hongtao scratched his scalp with his folding fan. "I'm not home. If he comes, we'll schedule another time. Don't delay my bird-trading."

"What about the guards? You should look over the men who will be closest to you, since you're bringing more people this time..."

He waved a hand dismissively. "Whoever it is, let it be." With that, he entered the sedan, kicked the side panel, and the curtain, shaken by the impact, dropped into place on its own.

The Seventh Prince was not a particularly conventional prince. Serving under him meant that as long as you exhausted your wits to keep him entertained, you didn't need to worry about anything else. Na Jin happily agreed and clapped his hands to signal the start. The sedan chair moved forward, followed by two young eunuchs carrying birdcages, heading toward the Elegant Pavilion in a grand and noisy procession.

Upon entering, he saw that all his usual acquaintances were already there. Prince Liang, having found a Myna bird somewhere, leaned over the table, held up two fingers, and asked the bird: "Look here, how many is this?"

The bird paused for a moment and then, with palpable disdain, replied, "Isn't it two?"

Prince Liang spread his thumb and index finger apart and gestured at the bird again. "How many is this then?"

This time, the bird flapped its wings and squawked noisily: "Eight horses, nine clerks, open them all up..." Clearly, someone must have played the finger-guessing game in front of it; the bird was quick-witted and remembered everything.

Everyone in the hall burst into laughter. Hongtao grinned and said, "Well now, it’s got a Sichuan accent—must have been snatched up from some Sichuanese."

When the shop waiter saw him arrive, he hurried forward, bowed, and laughed: "Prince, please, come inside. Following your esteemed command, we’ve changed our chef. Today’s bagao (rice cake) is served with plenty of vinegar—perfectly sour and cool. The osmanthus syrup on the almond bean curd was freshly boiled with added honey, stretching two feet without breaking. Everything is prepared just for you."

Hongtao gave a grunt of acknowledgment. "A new chef is good. Bring me a bowl of spinach purée soup; I want to test his skills."

"Yes, sir!" The waiter’s face was full of sycophantic smiles. "This time we’ve invited a chef from Tianjin. First-grade Bird's Nest, shark fin, and osmanthus fish bone are all his specialties. Wouldn't you like to try them?"

Hongtao lifted his robes and sat on the Arhat couch, his two iron exercise balls spinning rapidly in his palm. He snorted a laugh. "What do you know? The simpler the dish, the more it tests a person's capability. If he can't even make a proper spinach purée soup, he’d just turn shark fin into rice noodles in my hands."

The waiter bowed repeatedly. "Then please rest for a moment, Your Highness. I’ll go outside and wait for the Prince of Heng. As soon as he arrives, I’ll invite him to you immediately."

So, he waited. Hongtao called over a few people he often hung out with to sit together, analyzing his Orchid-Chopping falcon from its beak to its talons. Those people were wary of his status as a prince; even if he had caught a common chicken and placed it there, they would have called it excellent.

Those who could sit together surely had their own birds. Hongtao swept his eyes over the room and saw Tong Si carrying two cages, both covered with black cloth. He tilted his chin up. "What kind of rubbish have you gotten your hands on again? You didn't rush to show me, so it's probably something good."

Tong Si laughed. "Listen to you. When have I ever forgotten you when I had something good? These are two Red-Throated Marsh Tits sent from the farm yesterday. If you like them, Prince, pick one—consider it a tribute from me."

"How can I be so rude? I’ve heard that the Red-Throated ones have good voices and have been wanting one, but I’ve never had the leisure to visit the bird market..." He reached out to lift the cover. It was a Hibiscus cage made of fine bamboo branches polished with tung oil, with two jade perches set horizontally in the middle, exuding refinement in every detail. Inside were two birds, one in each cage—one large, one small; one with fine plumage, one with rougher feathers. Neither was singing, just crouching on the perches. He lowered the cover and licked his lips. "I’m not an expert on Red-Throats, but since you offered one, I’ll follow your lead."

In truth, Tong Si was panicking inside. For someone obsessed with birds, parting with one’s favorite is more painful than being cut by a knife. But what could he do? This man was a prince; one could only hold him in high regard. One couldn't afford to offend him over a bird. However, the Seventh Prince was not a true connoisseur; he was merely a "half-bottle of vinegar" (a dabbler), easily fooled. So, he brought up both cages, lifted half of the black cloth to show their appearance, and squinted. "Since you like them, Prince, it goes without saying I’ll give you one. I’ll pick the best one for you to save my own face. Let me tell you, Red-Throats are divided into Southern and Eastern lineages. The Eastern ones have fast and deep notes—not good. The Southern ones are slow and crisp—bird keepers love the Southern ones. Look at this one..." He pointed to the grey-white one. "A genuine Southern specimen, a Xingtai Red-Throat. Their call is like 'qiang-qiang-gun, qiang-qiang-hong'—truly lively..."

"Southern Red-Throats are indeed better. You're right that this is a Southern one, but it's not a Xingtai Red-Throat. It's a Handan Red-Throat."

As the men were talking in the private room, someone suddenly chimed in from the doorway. They looked up and saw a short, fair-skinned youth. Everyone was stunned, but the Seventh Prince laughed. "You kid, you know about birds too?"

Dingyi entered and performed a formal bow. "In reply to Your Highness, I used to live near the bird market with my master. I watched people selling birds every day. I wouldn't dare say I'm an expert, but I can judge them with about seventy or eighty percent accuracy."

Hongtao glanced at Tong Si. "Well, well! You dare to pull the wool over my eyes!"

Tong Si was startled; of course, he couldn't admit it. He sized up the newcomer and cupped his hands. "Young brother, on what basis do you conclude this is a Handan Red-Throat?"

"Look at the size," Dingyi laughed. "Excuse my presumptuousness, but let me see if I’m right. Handan Red-Throats are large and have greyish feathers; Xingtai Red-Throats are small and have whitish feathers. Handan Red-Throats have fewer notes, and their call lacks 'water' (richness); Xingtai Red-Throats have good notes, but have many flaws and are easily 'dirtied' (have poor training)."

Her explanation, sounding like a tongue-twister, left everyone dizzy. Hongtao slammed the table. "Enough! No need for so much explanation. You tell me which one is better, and that’s the one I’ll keep."

Dingyi acknowledged the order and glanced at the other cage. The bird was unimpressive—a head smaller than the first, with dull plumage and white claws. She bowed to the Seventh Prince. "In my humble opinion, that one isn't a Xingtai Red-Throat either; it’s a Jiangnan Red-Throat. Don't let its looks fool you; its voice is excellent—fine, melodic, and rich. If I were you, I’d prefer that one. If you don't believe me, uncover the cloth and let them sing. Once compared, the difference will be clear."

The Seventh Prince actually uncovered them. As soon as the bird saw the light, it began to sing. While the big one wasn't bad, it was clearly inferior compared to the small one. The little one’s song was crisp and clear, making anyone who heard it feel completely at ease. The Seventh Prince was delighted and slapped Dingyi on the shoulder, making her sink half a head lower. "Good! Good lad! Your character might be questionable, but you’re an expert at judging birds—that’s a skill in itself. Tong Si, you’re famous for your craftiness, but today you've messed with me. Do you believe I’ll peel your skin off?"

"Oh," Tong Si bowed repeatedly. "I was deceived by others; they told me it was from Xingtai. I had intended to give you the small one, but I was afraid you’d look down on it. Look at how it appears—if I had recommended it to you, you would have thought I was being stingy... You see, you’re a Prince; if the bird’s appearance is mediocre, it wouldn't be good for your prestige."

The Seventh Prince was in a good mood and didn't hold it against him. He kept both cages. "I know you hate to part with it, but I won’t take yours for nothing. I have a young shrike in my residence; I’ll have someone send it to you tomorrow."

Tong Si wiped the sweat from his brow, stood up, thanked him obsequiously, and withdrew with the others.

Now it was Hongtao’s turn to look at Dingyi. He touched the cage and eyed the person in front of him. "I didn't expect you to have this talent. Can you only judge Red-Throats, or can you recognize other birds as well?"

Dingyi said, "I don't know them all, but I have a knack for Hwameis and Orioles."

Hongtao nodded. "Like this Jiangnan Red-Throat, you’re small, but you have your own abilities. Tell me, why did you come here? As an executioner, do you play with birds too?"

He was being snide, but she’d been used to his sharp tongue since the day they met. Dingyi put on an expression of utmost sincerity. "I knew Your Highness comes here every day, so I timed it to come and serve you."

"Has the sun started rising in the west?" Hongtao picked up the sweet wine on the table, took a sip, and turned to eye her. "Last time I offered you a position in the garden, you refused. What are you here for today? I suspect you're up to no good—still thinking about becoming a gosha (guard)?" He leaned against the mother-of-pearl table, rubbed the bridge of his nose with his index finger. "Speaking of your physique, you're truly lacking, but you showed off your talent with the birds today. None of my current gosha have your skill. I don't like following strict formalities when on duty; bringing a bird trainer to the north would look unseemly. But if I had a gosha who was also a bird trainer, that would be perfect. You'll carry the title of guard, but fulfill the role of bird trainer..." The Seventh Prince was actually swayed by his own words. He slapped his thigh and laughed, feeling that this was an innovation without precedent.

When Dingyi heard this, she realized she had hit the mark by accident. In truth, living near the bird market was only a secondary factor. When she was about ten, she had helped her nurse’s husband trap birds—using a large net set up in the forest. If a bird wasn't careful and hit the net, the unlucky ones died; the lucky ones were caught and sold to specialized bird collectors. The collectors would judge the birds: the low-grade ones had their necks twisted and skins peeled to be made into restaurant snacks; the high-grade ones were kept for cages and breeding. When she was small, she would hover at the side watching them judge birds. They liked her and would tease her, asking, "Little Shu, is this bird handsome, or are you handsome?" Then they taught her how to tell the sex of the bird and judge its temperament.

Floating through life as she did, she had seen much, and those experiences became her foundation. She hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now that it was useful, it was a good feeling.

"It’s decided, then." The Seventh Prince pointed at her. "Can you ride a horse? If you can't even ride a horse, you can't follow me to take care of the birds."

Dingyi quickly said she could. "I’ve been riding mules since I was small, and later switched to horses. I ride quite well."

"Oh, not bad." The Prince smiled, his eyes shimmering with light. "You refused to enter the cellar, but it turns out you just wanted to follow me! You should have said so earlier. We know each other well—it’s not like we couldn't have worked something out."

Her mouth twitched, and she bowed. "It was only because I was afraid of you before. You are a Prince, and we are commoners; I would tremble just being near you, and I dared not make such presumptuous requests."

"That’s fair." He teased the Red-Throat with a bamboo stick. "Work hard, I won't treat you poorly. Later, ask Na Jin about your stipend, and have him introduce you to the guard bureau."

After all her maneuvering, she had finally succeeded, yet she felt a complex emotion in her heart. She bowed low again. "Prince... thank you, Prince. I will certainly work hard. But you are bringing the birds to the north; the north is cold, and I fear the southern birds won't be able to handle it."

Hongtao smacked his lips. "Isn't that what you're here for? Have them make two cages the size of your fists, tuck them inside your clothes against your chest, and keep them warm that way." He glanced at her sideways. "Taking care of the birds is your duty. Why else would I keep you?"

Two small cages, tucked one on each side inside her clothes... Dingyi blushed slightly. This Prince was wicked—he never went three sentences without causing trouble. But she accepted the insults for now. She was already thinking about how to explain this to her master. She asked the Prince for leave: "My master doesn't know I’m going to serve you. I need to go back and tell him. Once I've finished that, I’ll go to the residence to find the steward. Does that suit Your Highness?"

The Seventh Prince was difficult when he wanted to be obstructive, but quite reasonable when he was in a good mood. He waved his hand. "That is the right thing to do. Clear away your old business before serving your new master; don't leave any messy entanglements behind—I'm not the Twelfth Prince, you know."

She bowed. "Yes, Master. Your servant takes her leave."

The Prince’s narrow eyes crinkled as he watched her. "You kid, you’re quick-witted—you’ve changed how you address me fast enough. Fine, get out of here!"

Dingyi bowed again and backed out of the room.