Love in Red Dust - Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Once she was outside, she found a secluded spot and buried her face in her hands, weeping bitterly. It was a good thing, she knew—she would soon see her brothers again—but the path ahead felt so distant and daunting.

She was seventeen this year and had been living under an assumed identity for twelve years. Initially, she had lived under others' roofs, enduring cold glares, but later, after becoming a disciple to her master, life had become steadier, even if it meant frequenting execution grounds and wielding the ghost-head blade. From here on out, she hoped things would only get better. To settle down and obtain a legitimate status was the only way to live with dignity. Her life had been a series of segments; at every stage, she had to bid farewell to the people and places she knew, enter a new environment, and endlessly navigate through a variety of people with humility.

She looked up. The sun was obscured by the rooftops, and the sky was a deep, tile-blue. Her face, still damp from tears, felt raw in the wind. She wiped it with her sleeve and took two deep breaths. Walking along the street, she passed a wine shop and bought a catty of Erguotou, then had a plate of beef and a dish of spiced broad beans sliced up, wrapping them to take back to the courtyard. As luck would have it, Xiazhi had gone to Mentougou today to visit his parents, so she and her master could have a heart-to-heart talk alone.

Her master was a perceptive man. She had been by his side for six years; he had watched her grow up. If she just walked out now with a few casual words, he would feel as though her wings had hardened and she was flying the coop, and it would break his heart. Yet, if she were too explicit about her reasons, she had her own reservations. If she revealed everything and he didn't take it well, or if something went wrong, there would be no turning back.

The problem she had pondered for days was solved, and she should have been happy, but she couldn't find any relief. She returned home feeling despondent, responding to her neighbors' greetings with mere perfunctory nods. She sat listlessly in the room for a while, then organized the food and wine, covering them with a bamboo mesh lid. It was still early, but she couldn't stay idle, so she cleaned the house, scrubbing here and there, even polishing the smoke-blackened tin teapot until it shone.

With nothing left to do, she remembered the Twelfth Prince mentioning his love for mulberries. She picked up a winnowing basket and headed to the back of the courtyard.

Folk customs were often quirky—there was a common saying, "Don't plant mulberry in the front, don't plant willow in the back." This mulberry tree grew at the corner where two courtyards met, getting in no one's way, which was how it had survived long enough to become lush and leafy. When the fruit ripened, the neighborhood children would congregate beneath it, pointing up and knocking the branches with small bamboo poles. When the mulberries fell into the yellow mud, it didn't matter; they would scoop them up in their shirts and take them home to wash. By the end of summer, the children's clothes were hopelessly stained with mulberry juice. Their parents would scold and swat them for being gluttons who ruined their clothes, but the chaos didn't dampen the children's enthusiasm for the tree.

When Dingyi arrived, several children were already there. Since they had already knocked down most of the reachable fruit, they were gazing longingly upward. The higher reaches belonged to Dingyi; she was nimble and could climb onto the roof to pick the fruit with ease.

She hadn't been here in a while, and the berries were perfectly ripe—plump and dark purple, almost black. She climbed onto the courtyard wall at a leisurely pace and reached out to pick them. In no time at all, she had filled her basket. When she climbed down, the children stood there sucking their fingers and calling out in long, drawn-out tones, "Brother Xiaoshu..." She chuckled and handed a handful to each of them; after weighing the basket, there was enough for the Twelfth Prince.

Back home, she soaked them in water, hanging them up where they wouldn't be exposed to the sun or wind, or perhaps attract bugs. She squatted by the well, changing the water several times, her mind weighed down by her secret, staring blankly at the fruit.

"Is that all? Add some salt. In case there are worms inside, the salt will force them out."

She looked up to see her master had returned. It was a sultry evening, and his face was slick with sweat. She hurried to draw water and get a towel. "Wash up, Master. Look at all that sweat."

"What's for dinner?" Wu Changgeng asked as he wiped his face. He was more concerned about that. "The cook went back to Mentougou, and we can't just sit here like a long-necked crane in a pond waiting for a meal. How about we make a bowl of fried-sauce noodles?"

Dingyi said, "I've already prepared everything. We have wine and meat." She hesitated slightly, gauged her master’s expression, and said softly, "Master, I... I have something I want to tell you today."

Wu Changgeng glanced at her. His expression didn't change much, but his eyes dimmed. After a long pause, he replied, "The day you became my apprentice, I told you that the path must be walked by yourself. Take a step, look back, and reflect on whether you’ve strayed." He dumped the water from the basin, draped the towel over the edge, and stood in silence for a moment. "Let's talk inside. Outside is no place for a serious conversation."

He entered the house. Dingyi watched his retreating figure, feeling even worse. The old man didn't talk much, but he was a sharp person; his words just now suggested he had already guessed something. She sighed. He must think she looked down on the executioner's trade and was obsessed with climbing the social ladder—a white-eyed wolf that couldn't be tamed, wasting his care over the last five or six years. At this thought, her eyes turned red.

Following him inside, she saw her master sitting at the table, lifting the mesh lid. He let out a small "ho," saying, "The dishes aren't bad today. The meat is secondary, but these broad beans look quite good. Are they spiced? I don't like the salt-baked ones; they're too salty and make your throat burn."

Dingyi hurried to hand him chopsticks and filled his cup. "They are spiced; I know you like this flavor. I tasted one on the way back, and they are fried perfectly—not hard at all."

Wu Changgeng nodded and took a sip of his wine. "The Erguotou is quite authentic, too."

Dingyi didn't know how to start. She stood to the side, and he murmured, "Why aren't you sitting? Whatever the matter is, sit down and say it."

She agreed, holding the wine pot but not joining him. Her master didn't speak for a long time, his eyelids drooping as he stared into his wine cup. After a while, he sighed: "There is no banquet that doesn't come to an end. Don't be sad; it's not some cataclysmic event. Once you leave my tutelage, you'll still be wandering in the capital, and we can still see each other if we want. Between people—not to mention an apprentice, even a daughter has to be married off eventually; there’s no such thing as keeping them for a lifetime. It's just that I... I'm a bit reluctant. After all these years by my side, I’ve viewed you and Xiazhi like my own flesh and blood."

When Dingyi heard this, she burst into tears. She had been calculating everything behind his back, but her master knew it all along. He hadn't reproached her for her constant trips to the Prince's residence because, from beginning to end, he had never intended to hold her back.

There were established rules for taking on apprentices. Once you entered the school, it was like signing an indentured servitude contract; to graduate, you had to work for your master for several years to repay the investment before you could open your own shop. For someone like her to quit halfway—if the master didn't give his blessing, you were stuck there until you rotted.

Her master was so kind, and she felt a mix of emotions. She left her seat and knelt by the table, choking out, "I have my reasons... Master, no matter where I go, I will never forget that I am your apprentice."

"Get up..." Wu Changgeng patted her shoulder. "Between us, there's no need for this. People move to higher places and water flows to lower ones; that’s been the way of the world since ancient times. As for me, I have no children of my own. At my age, I don't look for anything else; I just hope for the best for you and Xiazhi. Shu'er, a noble household is not like other places. Once you enter, getting out is difficult. Treat those you work with well; they can help you when you're in a tight spot. When you arrive in a new place, if you get scolded or even take a few blows, it's nothing. You must keep your composure. With composure, you will find your footing. A person needs roots; you can't just drift like duckweed. Isn't that right? You aren't young anymore; it's time to think about your own future."

She looked up, her face covered in tears, and clutched her master's leg. "It's not that I look down on our trade. When others say our work is bad, I refuse to listen. Master, I have my reasons for joining the Seventh Prince's retinue. I want to follow the mission to the Changbai Mountains to find my brothers. You don't know, I..."

"I know," Wu Changgeng said, taking a sip of wine. "Have you forgotten where your master works? I've been at the Shuntian Prefecture for nearly thirty years; I can tell what kind of person someone is and what's going on with one glance. I only want to ask one thing: have you thought about how you'll get out once you enter the guard bureau?"

Dingyi was stunned. She had underestimated her master, thinking he only knew she wanted to enter the Prince's mansion, but he even knew her origins. And the question he posed—she truly hadn't considered it. A large Prince’s mansion was easy to enter but difficult to leave. She had been so focused on the Changbai Mountains that she had forgotten such a critical detail.

Wu Changgeng glanced at her. "You... you have many good qualities, but you are too young, lack experience, and never think about the consequences of your actions—though, of course, you're still better than Xiazhi. What is wrong with you two? You seem sharp enough, but you are both equally naive. I suppose I didn't teach you well... Well, there's no other way now; we can only take it one step at a time. If you want to go, then go. But remember one thing: do not go around claiming relatives indiscriminately, especially in front of the Prince. Think about it: you are a guard, a person by his side, but you have several exiled brothers—what do you think he’ll make of that?"

Dingyi even forgot to cry. "Master, you know I'm Wen Lu's daughter?"

Wu Changgeng shifted his gaze to the rafters of the room, chewing the spiced broad beans with a crisp crunch. "I've known for a long time. I often pondered that for a girl like you, seeing so much blood wasn't good. Now that you want to move, I think it’s beneficial for you. A tree moved dies, but a person moved lives. If you stay here with me, you’ll learn a trade for killing people that will be useless to you in the future. After all, you are a girl; supporting a husband and raising children is the righteous path—can you really run to the execution grounds for your whole life?" He smiled, downing the wine in his cup in one go. "Wu Changgeng taking the two of you in was like having a son and a daughter. In the future, if you make a fortune, don't worry about me; I'll be fine. But if you hit rock bottom, remember there is a master in this courtyard—no matter when, I’ll never despise you. If you come back to your master, as long as I have a bite to eat, you won't go hungry."

With him saying that, Dingyi felt as if she had been soaked in brine; even her heart felt shriveled. She wailed, "In the future, I will treat you like my own father. As long as I have any success, I will definitely buy you a house and get you a maid to serve you."

"Alright," Wu Changgeng laughed. "That remains to be seen; there's no limit to your potential. Find a good husband, and you'll have everything."

Dingyi laughed through her tears. With her master standing by her side, she felt she had no more worries.

When Sanqingzi came by to visit and saw the scene, he asked with a "Yo": "What play are these two acting out? Crying and laughing at the same time."

Like most parents, Wu Changgeng loved to show off when his children had a bright future. "Our little Shu has caught the eye of a Prince and is going to the Prince Xian residence to serve as a guard."

Sanqingzi, biting into a piece of beef, clapped his hands. "Good news! You've brought honor to your master. In our courtyard, we have those who carry blades and those who carry water-fire staffs, but we've never had a guard before. Xiaoshu, you're going to be a big success!"

Dingyi humbled herself and looked at her master, saying, "Third Brother, now that I'm leaving, the one I'm most worried about is my master. I hope you'll all look after him for me. I'll come back to visit whenever I have free time; I won't forget everyone's kindness."

Sanqingzi sat down on the other side and poured himself a bowl of wine. "We're all neighbors; we've lived here for years, so helping each other out is only natural. You go do your job well, and when you become a squad leader, don't forget to promote my son. I’m bowing to you in advance for that."

Just like that, she felt she had tied up the loose ends of her former life.

She stood under the eaves to look out; in the evening, the sky was layered with angry clouds, and dragonflies flew in low-altitude swarms. From the alleyway came the discordant singing of children: "Old glazed tile, fly over here…”