Love in Red Dust - Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Her own small life... these words stirred up a bit of longing in him. Now that he was of age, people at the Changchun Garden were urging him, and messages had come several times from the Langrun Garden, anxious for him to settle down. A wife, he surely had to take; it was just a matter of whether he could find someone suitable—not that he expected to be head-over-heels in love, but at the very least, they should share similar interests, so that they wouldn't end up a resentful couple.

He looked down at her. "You seem to dabble in everything; you can even read palms?"

"I’m different from you. You are a Prince; noble from the moment you hit the ground. As for us, we run around outside and meet all kinds of people—all sorts of colorful characters. When I see an interesting trade, I like to learn a bit of it. Street peddlers with banners reading 'Mayi Divine Physiognomy' have a whole set of skills: face reading, palmistry, character analysis, and bone-feeling." She led him to sit down and laughed, "What I like best is the 'bird-picked divination.' They stack a big pile of cards there, the fortuneteller opens the birdcage, says 'Please calculate for me, when will my great fortune arrive?' and the bird comes out to pick through them. Pick as it may, it’s always 'The Cold Cicada on the Willow'—it’s always bad luck. Then the fortuneteller makes the customer spend silver coins to buy his 'lucky money'—all stained with color, the Chengde copper coins. It’s not a one-for-one trade; at the cheapest, it's two for one."

She kept rambling on, but in truth, she was just trying to bolster her own courage. She had no idea why the thought had suddenly popped into her head to read the Twelfth Prince’s palm; she just felt like his hand had been waving before her eyes for too long, which was truly a bit provocative.

She cast a glance at him. The Prince was quite calm; although he didn't necessarily trust her, he didn't show it on his face. She took a breath and placed her hand on the stone table, palm up, in a gesture of invitation. If it was said that the Prince had a good temper, it was certainly true. He really did extend his hand toward her; five fingers, long and slender, like young green onions. The veins beneath the smooth, clear skin were visible. How could this be a man’s hand? It was clearly a woman’s; it must have been placed incorrectly.

Dingyi’s heart skipped a beat. This was the second time. The last time, she had been terrified by thunder, and he had kindly pulled her along. This time, his hand rested on her palm—slender joints, a gold-engraved ring on his little finger. Compared to him, she was ashamed to even be seen. She felt utterly useless and didn't dare to open her mouth, fearing that if she did, her heart would leap out of her throat. If this were an acquaintance, she would certainly have teased them a bit, but sitting across from her was a Prince, and a Prince was not to be profaned.

She coughed to steel her nerves and flipped his hand over. "Have you never had anyone read your palm before? Palmistry looks at the palm lines; you don't look at the back of the hand..." She feigned admiration and let out a sound. "My, you have the 'Golden Flower' seal print! This palmistry is truly excellent! Let’s start with the Mars Plain; many people have it sunken, but you don't. It’s flat all around, but this center part is like a small mound of earth—it proves you have mettle, you don't easily surrender, and you are a very persistent person." She pointed to the middle line of the palm print. "When we speak of whether a person is intelligent or not, we look at this line. This line controls the intellect; your brain works well, and the line is long and deep—unlike my senior brother. My senior brother is just a forked reed flower; he has plenty of petty tricks, but none on the right path. You are single-minded. Such a person is good—reliable. Combining this with your first finger joint, it is truly rare. If this line were flawed and the joints short, that person wouldn't be much—ninety percent arrogant, conceited, and foolhardy... Next time, I must read the Seventh Prince’s palm. Tsk, tsk, I’m afraid it’s looking grim for him."

Hongce let out a snort of laughter. "If you badmouth your master like this, he’ll be furious if he finds out."

Dingyi said blankly, "I’m with you, aren't I? I only say these things to you. Are you going to go and tell on me? I am 'living in the Cao camp but my heart is with the Han'—as you well know."

He pressed his lips together, nodding with a smile. "Continue. What about marriage?"

Truth be told, Dingyi was only a dabbler at palmistry. Her being so proactive was mostly to grab the hand of the Prince, so what sense could she possibly make of it? But the arrow was already on the bowstring, and it was a bit late to pull back, so she had to keep blathering. She traced her finger over his first palm line, all the way to the base of his little finger, and stopped at that short line. "Let me see how many Princess Consorts you will have in the future. The more lines, the more wives..." She looked and looked, then let out an "Eh?" "Why is there only one line? It seems you are a person who values affection and righteousness. Marrying a wife isn't about quantity, but quality. Finding one good person and living a solid life—with your status, to be able to do this is truly rare."

The Twelfth Prince actually believed her words. "Can you tell where my marriage lies? When will my 'Red Phoenix star' move?"

To be honest, when a smart person and a fool stay together for a little too long, the smart person’s brain clearly becomes slower. Dingyi looked at the Prince and felt that he seemed to have been corrupted by her. She pursed her lips and said, "This... can't be seen, but in short... it’s coming soon. Perhaps it’s this year. If not this year, then next, or the year after at the latest..."

Wasn't that just nonsense? The Prince was already twenty-three; if he wasn't worried himself, his relatives and elders should have been making arrangements for him.

Hongce withdrew his hand. "What is meant to be in one’s fate will eventually come; there’s no need to rush. As for you, have you checked your own?"

Dingyi shook her head. "I’ve never thought about taking a wife. Someone as poor and destitute as me isn't qualified to start a family. I don't even have a place to set my feet; if a wife came over, I wouldn't be able to feed her." Remembering what she had just done, she suddenly blushed. She had touched his hand, so what was she still doing here? She turned to look at the sky; the sun had risen so high already, and she hurried to say, "I’ve bothered you for quite a while; I must be going. The steward at the Seventh Prince’s mansion is still waiting for my report." As she spoke, she performed a bow. "Please sit comfortably, Your Highness; this servant takes his leave."

He grunted an "Um," not moving, his gaze drifting elsewhere. Dingyi walked backward out of the pavilion and hurried away. After a few steps, she turned to look at him; he was still sitting there, quiet and alone. The scenery and the figure were enough to be a painting. She lowered her eyes to look at her own hand, grimaced, and slapped herself across the face—she had even resorted to the tricks of a street charlatan; what exactly was she thinking?!

After leaving the Prince Chun mansion, she headed straight for Denei Street. The side gate of the Virtuous Prince’s mansion was half-open, and from time to time, one could hear the barking of dogs.

She went to the gate to ask for an announcement. The gatekeeper recognized her—her looks were quite distinctive, basically impossible for anyone to forget after seeing once. The gatekeeper cupped his hands. "Guard Mu, you’ve finally arrived. The head steward has asked for you several times. Hurry on inside. He is currently walking the dogs with the Prince. Take that path, walk until you see a hanging flower gate, and take a turn; you’ll see him."

This was intentionally making things difficult. It was her first time properly arriving at the mansion and no one was leading the way—what kind of rules were these for a mansion? She cupped her hands and said, "Then I really will be on my way. If I walk to the wrong place and run into the Princess Consort, you can’t blame me."

"Go, go. The Principal Consort doesn't even know which high-ranking mansion she’s in yet. The side consorts and concubines live in deep, small courtyards; even if you wanted to run into them, you couldn't."

So it turned out that the Seventh Prince didn't have a principal consort either, and only one side consort was in charge of the mansion. The second-in-command and the top leader were not to be compared; the top leader lived in the main courtyard’s rooms, while the second-in-command could only live in a slightly peripheral area—why else was it called a "side-chamber"?

Fine then. Dingyi groped her way inside. Every gate in the mansion had guards stationed there, all from the Imperial Guard unit. As she walked, she bowed to everyone she saw. "You’re busy. I’m the new Goshaha, my name is Mu Xiaoshu..." People returned the gesture politely; after all, she had been personally promoted by the Prince, so she had a bit of face.

Following the path the gatekeeper had pointed out, the deeper she went, the louder the dog barking became. Once she passed the hanging flower gate, she indeed saw a fine dog tethered under a large phoenix tree in the garden. Its long hair was flying at the tips of its tail and ears, chest puffed out and head held high as it stood there. Its eyes were one yellow and one blue, glaring fiercely at the newcomer—a truly frightening sight.

Dingyi swallowed a mouthful of saliva, took a wide detour, and bowed to the Prince. "Master, this servant has arrived for duty."

The Seventh Prince glanced at her, said nothing, and picked up a piece of meat from a tray held by a eunuch on the side, throwing it far toward the dog. He used a bit of skill in his hand, choosing a tricky angle. The dog was simply miraculous; its body twisted like a pretzel, and with a leap and a spring, it caught it with precision.

"Heh! Good lad!" The Seventh Prince clapped his hands and tilted his chin at Mu Xiaoshu. "This dog was found by your Twelfth Prince—a Shaanxi hound, 'mandarin-duck eyes,' quite rare. Speaking of which, the last time was thanks to your senior brother. If it weren't for him wrecking my slip-board, I wouldn't have been able to find such a pleasing little toy."

Dingyi lowered her waist even further. "It must be that this dog has an affinity with you..."

The Seventh Prince squinted at him. "It’s your senior brother’s credit, then?"

"I wouldn't dare." She timidly interrupted. "In any case, it was our fault. In the future, this servant will serve you well to atone for my senior brother’s sins."

Hongtao rolled his eyes at him. "This dog is quite wild; it pounces on people the moment it’s unleashed. Why don't you spar with it?"

"Don't do that." She was startled. "This servant can't handle it. I tremble all over whenever I see a dog... Besides, I raise birds; if I get the smell of a dog on me, the birds won't sing when they smell it."

The Seventh Prince thought about it; it wouldn't be good if it scared his little treasure, so he stopped bothering with him.

Na Jin seized the moment to report, "Master, this servant will take Xiaoshu to see Shou Heng now. We are hitting the road the day after tomorrow, so we have to see how the cart is packed and if your winter clothes are all prepared."

The Prince was busy teasing the dog and had no time to ask about such things, so he waved his hand, dismissing them.

Dingyi only then remembered that it was cold in the north, and she hadn't even brought a piece of cold-weather clothing. She rubbed her feet and said, "Head Steward, I need to go back to my master’s place to find a cotton robe. I forgot to bring one."

Na Jin rolled his eyes. "Forget about that old cotton coat of yours. Do you think you’ll freeze to death serving the Prince? You guards have specialized cotton armor, with silk-cotton padding so thick that it’s like being wrapped in felt wherever you go, yeah."

Dingyi agreed and followed him toward the Imperial Guard office. After winding through several gates, the Imperial Guard office was located outside the east corner gate of the mansion—a row of gray-tiled houses with large wooden plaques hanging on the mullioned windows. As soon as Na Jin entered the courtyard, he shouted, "The higher-ups ordered you to go to the Firearm Battalion to get your guns. Have you picked them up yet? The people at the Prince Chun mansion have everything prepared; what about you lot? Mud pigs and scabby dogs—useless idiots. Even if we give you guns, you carry them like you’re shouldering firewood. Follow along and learn well; don't wait until something happens and you don't even know how to pull the trigger mechanism."

The people from the Imperial Guard office came out to respond, laughing, "Look at what you’re saying. Our 'Shoutou' is a master at using a gun. Thump—he shoots and hits the target from a hundred paces." As he spoke, he looked at the newcomer. "Is this the one you were talking about?"

Na Jin let out an "Ah." "His name is Mu Xiaoshu." He turned and asked, "Which 'Mu'? The 'Mu' of elm wood? This name is interesting—it’s wood and it’s a tree; is it because your five elements are lacking in wood?"

Dingyi smiled and said no. "The 'Mu' is the one with the three water-drops on the side. If you plant a small tree, don't you need to water it?"

"Not bad. It really makes sense." Na Jin pressed the plaster on his temple and pointed to the man in front of him to introduce him. "This is Liao Datou; he is the assistant manager of the Imperial Guard office. If there’s anything you don't understand, just ask him. He’s the 'know-it-all'; there’s nothing he doesn't know."

Dingyi paid her respects, and Liao Datou blinked his eyes, saying, "He joined the Imperial Guard office—what is he good for? Look at this frame; he can't carry a dao nor a gun."

Na Jin made a "Tsk" sound. "Are you judging his frame, thinking he’s supposed to be intimidating? He’s not here to fight. He has a nominal position, and he has his own assignments. You, tell him the rules—how the pay is distributed, how to claim clothes and hats for the four seasons, and find him a place to sleep, and that’s it."

Liao Datou stroked his chin and looked at this brat a few more times. The last time his senior brother stole a dog and they caught him, he had quite a lot of ability; he managed to move the Twelfth Prince of the Prince Chun mansion to intercede for him. It seemed his background wasn't thin. He replied, "Done. This, this... Xiaoshu, our guards serve in shifts; there are night shifts and day shifts. Would you prefer night or day?"

Na Jin clicked his tongue again. "He has other assignments!"

Liao Datou touched the back of his neck. "Right, other assignments... We guards are different from others. When we are off-duty, we can't go sleep outside, just in case the master summons us. The moment the Prince gives an order, we have to flip over and obey. If you’re at the 'Eight Great Hutongs' cuddling with a girl—with so many brothels, where would we find you?"

Na Jin’s fan caused a gust of wind. "What is all this talk? Always worrying about cuddling girls; can you have a bit of ambition?" Thinking that he wasn't really here to be a guard at all, and that passing him around was redundant, he told her straight: "For the Goshahas in our mansion, the monthly salary is two taels of silver. If you take an advance for the year, it’s halved. Eleven shi of millet—the millet is worth thirteen taels of silver. Food and lodging are provided, and all equipment is paid for by the mansion’s public treasury. You don't have to worry about anything; just do your job well."

"Then may I ask, where are the Prince’s birds kept?" Other things were easy to say, but this living situation was a bit troublesome. The Imperial Guard office was full of rough men who walked around shirtless in the summer; how was she supposed to handle that? Dingyi sought an idea from Na Jin, testing the waters. "You see, I’m specifically in charge of the birds. I might need to feed them water or food in the middle of the night. How about this: I’ll just live with the birds. It’ll be easier to look after them if anything happens."

Prompted by her, Na Jin immediately came to his senses. "Then why go to the Imperial Guard office? Wouldn't it be better to just go to the garden? Aiya, it’s really too hot, it’s made me muddled. It’s only for a day or two, why all the fuss! Just go to the garden. I’ll have them send over your uniform and soft armor, and that will settle it."

A muddled master raises muddled slaves. The Seventh Prince managed his family in a sluggish way, and the subordinates serving under him would just muddle through whenever possible. Liao Datou watched as the head steward led the person away again, thinking to himself: what kind of guard is this? After all this, it turns out she’s just a bird-keeper.