Love in Red Dust - Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Before officially starting work at the Seventh Prince’s mansion, she decided to visit the Prince Chun mansion first. Although she couldn't follow the Twelfth Prince, they would be traveling together, so she would still be able to run into him when they stopped to eat or stayed at courier stations along the way.

There were only two days left until their departure, and Dingyi was bursting with excitement. She went to the gate and greeted the gatekeeper, asking, "Is the Prince in?"

The gatekeeper said he was, adding, "He’s been busy preparing for the long trip these past two days!" He shot her a look and lowered his voice to probe, "Didn't the Seventh Prince have you go check their cellar that day? Did you go? Where are you serving now?"

She smiled. "I went, but it wasn't to check the cellar; I’ve joined the Imperial Guard unit. I’m starting work today, so I came to pay my respects to the Prince first. The Prince mentioned last time that he likes mulberries, so I prepared some to bring him a taste of the fresh harvest."

The gatekeeper chuckled. "You brat, you don't miss out on either side—hooking one end while keeping a foot in the other." He slapped his thigh. "Alright, I'll send someone to announce you... The Prince is a grown man, still eating mulberries? That sounds so rare..."

Why couldn't an adult eat them? Adults were actually just as greedy; they were just too embarrassed to show it openly. In a mansion as grand as this, there was surely no shortage of honey melons or lychees, but mulberries were almost certainly missing. It was just like being used to delicacies from mountains and seas and wanting to switch to pickled eggplant; the humble things often seemed fresher.

The person who went inside to deliver the message returned quickly, gesturing for her to follow.

Dingyi thanked him and hurried to catch up.

The mansion was vast. The garden occupied the other half of the grounds. This time, the Prince was in the second courtyard, which they reached after passing through two moon gates. Because this mansion had no Princess Consort, the entire household revolved around the master's personal preferences. The Great Qing dynasty, like the previous one, revered Tibetan Buddhism; therefore, the place for administration also contained a prayer wheel tower. As Dingyi passed the tower, she looked up; the brass-carved cylinders were engraved with strange scripts. There were doors on all four sides, and inside sat a statue of White Tara, her countenance silent, wondrous, and solemn.

"White Tara saves one from the eight sufferings; she is an incarnation of Guanyin." As she stared, mesmerized, a voice murmured behind her, "By cultivating your heart and entering her dharma gate, you can also allow wisdom to grow."

Dingyi remembered that when her parents were alive, they had also worshipped such a bodhisattva, though the color was different; the one in their home had been green. Tara had five colors, all originating from Guanyin, but each served a different purpose. She turned back and laughed, "My master says I lack a heart—or perhaps common sense—so I’m going to request one for my home in the future. Once I worship this bodhisattva, perhaps I’ll become a bit sharper."

The Prince stood in the morning light, wearing a willow-green casual robe cinched with a jade belt, making him appear even more bright and radiant, like the morning clouds. He was often smiling, and his smile was handsome—not overly flamboyant, but heart-warming. Dingyi was momentarily stunned; she swept her sleeve in a bow and looked up, joking, "To think you would come out to welcome me, how embarrassing!" She chuckled and lifted the basket to show him. "I picked these mulberries yesterday evening and chilled them in the well water all night. They are washed very clean. When you have a moment, taste them; no need to pour osmanthus honey over them. They aren't sour at all—they are surely different from what you ate as a child."

Hongce hadn't expected him to truly take that remark to heart. He had just said it in passing; childhood memories were more about nostalgia, not a real desire to eat. But since they were brought, he could not refuse the gesture. Eunuchs were bustling in the courtyard, busy organizing the stationery and dossiers he needed to bring. It was because he was annoyed that he had come out, so he pointed to the north. "Let’s go to the gazebo; it’s quieter there."

Dingyi agreed and followed behind him. The sun had just risen and lacked intensity, a pale disc hanging in the crab-shell-green sky, its very light soft. The Twelfth Prince’s shadow fell aslant, landing just on the hem of her robe. She looked down; the floating contours and the wisps of hair lifted by the wind held a flavor of peaceful, present-day contentment.

The mansion garden had winding paths leading to seclusion. Following the bluestone-paved path forward, eaves began to show between the dense bamboo leaves. Further on, it became clear: there was an exquisite pavilion with a plaque hanging under the eaves that read, "Cool Breeze Brings Tidings." Deep in the bamboo forest, there was a world of its own. The scenery here was different from the narrow alleys she had seen; in the heat of summer, the outside was dusty earth paths, with cicadas chirping until one’s throat felt parched. But once she arrived here, a sudden coolness washed over her. Staying here for the hottest days of summer, one wouldn't even break out in heat rash.

Thinking of heat rash, she reached back and rubbed her spine. The Prince sat at a stone table, and she hurriedly brought out the bowl from the basket. A poor family like hers didn't have exquisite porcelain for food, just a thick-bottomed, blue-rimmed bowl. What to do since there was no lid? She used a large bowl to cover the small one.

She laughed, "Don't mind the presentation. We couldn't afford a jade lotus-leaf plate, so we had to make do with a regular rice bowl." Standing to the side, she offered them to him. "If you think they’re good, eat a few more. If they don't suit your palate, it’s no pity to throw them away, since I picked them myself."

This child had a farmer’s honesty. Hongce glanced at the bowl; the mulberries were indeed perfectly ripe, large and plump with juice. He recalled the times when he was a child, picking through the leftovers from his older brothers—those had been small and red, nothing compared to these.

The Prince looked refined, and his manner of eating was also elegant, unhurried, unlike Xia Zhi, who could bury his whole head in the bowl when eating. Dingyi watched him eagerly. His orchid-like fingertips were as white as jade, wandering among the deep purple-red fruits. Just observing it was pleasing to the eye. When his lips pressed together, she became tense, carefully observing his expression, and asked with bated breath, "Prince, how do you find the taste?"

The Prince began to laugh slowly, the red juice of the mulberries staining his lips like a young woman’s lipstick. He said they were good. "They really are different from what I ate as a child. No wonder they fought tooth and nail to snatch a tree. I used to think, the taste isn't even that great, is it worth risking your life? It turns out I just hadn't experienced the good ones."

"Then have some more." Dingyi picked out the plumpest one and held it by its tiny stem to place it on the edge of the bowl. "Have this one; it’s even better."

They were born into the imperial family, where everything had rules. One had to exercise restraint, both in the palace and in their own mansions. People on the outside didn't know this. For Xiao Shu, if he wanted to eat, he ate; if he wanted to sleep, he slept, letting things be natural. But the Prince was different. He still remembered the holidays in the palace as a child when he greedily ate an extra piece of date-paste cake; his mother had sent a head eunuch to lecture him from the hour of the Rooster to the hour of the Dog—a full two hours of instruction, enough to remember for a lifetime.

He shook his head and pushed the bowl away.

Dingyi felt a pang of disappointment looking at the bowl of fruit. The Prince had a small appetite; if it were her, she would have finished it in the time it takes an incense stick to burn. Well, if he didn't eat, he didn't eat. She started tidying up while saying, "I came here today to report something. Yesterday, I picked a bird for the Seventh Prince at the Elegant Abode. The Seventh Prince was so happy that he agreed to let me join the Imperial Guard unit. Before, when he asked me to move flower pots and I didn't, it wasn't because I feared hardship; I had my own thoughts. I told you about it before—I planned to go back to serve my master. But since the Seventh Prince gave me this opportunity, I didn't want to let it pass by. I reported it to my master, and my master agreed, so in a while, I’m heading to the virtuous Prince’s mansion to report for duty."

Hongce was a bit surprised. "Being a Goshaha at the Virtuous Prince’s mansion is not easy. With your skills, can you gain a foothold there?"

This was not very glorious to admit, so Dingyi shyly replied, "It's not exactly serving as a Goshaha, just holding a nominal position in the guard unit. The Seventh Prince is taking two birds north, and I’m specifically in charge of taking care of those birds."

So that was it. Only Hongtao would come up with such an absurd idea. Traveling with birds in such cold weather—if the birds froze to death, who would take the blame?

His fingers curled, loosely holding themselves as he said slowly, "The further north you go, the more the climate turns water into ice. Can you guarantee the Seventh Prince’s treasures will be unscathed? If there is any mishap, the Seventh Prince will demand accountability. If you are under his command, I won't even have the leeway to plead for you."

Dingyi felt that since she had reached this point, she couldn't worry about so much anymore. Changbai Mountain was right before her eyes, reachable with a stretch of the hand. At this moment, neither a mountain of blades nor a sea of fire could stop her. Her journey thus far had been one of "wait and see." How long she lived was a matter of fate; since it was already like this, perhaps dying would lead to reincarnation.

She smiled. "I just wanted to go out and see the world with you; I didn't think about all that."

He frowned slightly. "If you were set on going, you should have told me straight. Why go through all this trouble?"

Dingyi muttered, "I was just embarrassed to be so thick-skinned. I mentioned it to you a few times, and you wouldn't agree, so I had to find my own way." She moved closer to the Prince. He didn't seem very happy, the golden glint in his eyes flickering, making his expression hard to read. She scratched her head and said, "Don't worry, I have my own ways. If it’s really cold, I’ll just keep them wrapped up and not let them poke their heads out. Such small creatures—I’ll keep them warm; they won't freeze to death."

Enough. Methods depend on people, and now it was too late to regret it. However... something seemed not quite right. He had saved her twice, and every time he saw her, he felt trouble was coming, yet he had developed a habit—a habit of preparing to clean up after her. What kind of affliction was this? He looked at her again; she had a face full of fawning expression, blinking those big eyes. The pupils were black and bright, like the deer he kept in his animal park.

Hongce let out a long breath and looked away. "What do you think of the scenery here?"

"It’s great. You can't see such a large bamboo forest in the city. You’ve raised these bamboo truly well." She pointed into the distance. "It would be even better to build a house there—no mountain walls, just an octagonal roof with a pointed top, large red pillars, green glazed tiles, and golden curtains hanging on all eight sides. At night, if you lived inside, you could hear the insects chirping beside you—that would be truly carefree!"

He thought about it seriously. "I wouldn't be able to hear the insects, but the mosquitoes would be well-fed."

Dingyi was stunned. She had actually forgotten that fact; had she accidentally poked at a sore spot? She was a bit flustered. "I spoke without thinking for a moment, it just slipped out..."

He didn't mind. Many people often forgot; if one took everything to heart, life would be impossible to live. He stood up, looked in the direction she had pointed with his hands behind his back, and murmured, "I once had that thought. I planned to build a pavilion to receive my birth mother into the mansion to be cared for, so she could spend the summer there. Unfortunately, it didn't come to pass, because the Concubines have their own government-granted places to enjoy their remaining years. For me to organize one here would be superfluous."

Every family had its own hard-to-recite sutra; the imperial family was no different. The convention used to be that once the old Emperor died, the concubines in the rear palace who had sons would move palaces with them, and only those without children would be settled in separate gardens. Now, because the Supreme Emperor had abdicated but was still alive, things naturally couldn't be handled according to the old rules—if people were alive, for the family to scatter would be a breach of decorum.

Dingyi comforted him, "That doesn't matter. You can see the Noble Consort whenever you go to pay your respects; it just takes a bit more effort to run over there often. I can't compare to you—both my parents are gone. When I miss them, I can only sit in the yard and look at the stars in the sky."

His gaze flowed quietly over her face. He had lost both parents, and compared to her, he was actually no better off. "The palace emphasizes 'fostering the son of another.' Once a prince is born, he is taken away by a wet nurse and sent to his adoptive mother. Only during the New Year or the mother's birthday can they meet. The biological mother and child are not close; it is very distant. For example, if you eat together and she sees you doing something wrong, she just coughs once, and you have to put down your chopsticks, stand up, and listen to the lecture."

The more Dingyi listened, the more she felt he had not had it easy. "Then why think of bringing her here? Are you not close with your adoptive mother?"

He shook his head again. "My adoptive mother had her own daughters to care for; she treated me with a layer of distance. My childhood was lacking, and as an adult, I always thought of making up for it. It's just a pity there was no such opportunity. Perhaps I was born without affinity for my kin."

He turned his head away, not intending to continue the conversation. Saying so much to someone he had only met a few times—if he accidentally became a chatterbox and let someone see right through him, what would be the point?

Dingyi had also lived within the walls of a grand house. In her memories, she was close to her wet nurse, close to her nanny, and she didn't call her birth mother "Mom," only "Madam." She understood this kind of regret.

"Does the Prince believe in fate?" She licked her lips and gave a sheepish smile, her eyes darting toward his cuffs. "I can read palms. Having a shallow affinity with parents is all in the past; it doesn't matter. You still have your own small life ahead! If you trust me, should I... take a look at your marriage prospects?”