Love in Red Dust - Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Dingyi was pinned down, unable to straighten her back. She struggled to look up and saw that the speaker was the other Prince who had arrived with the seventh.
This Prince was much more pleasing to the eye than the seventh. While the seventh was full of arrogance, this one seemed neither haughty nor overbearing, his expression gentle and modest. Some people look good with their features arranged together but are unsightly if you look at them one by one; he was the opposite. She had often heard that the Yuwen family produced beauties, and she had assumed it referred only to women; it turned out that wasn't the case. As for those of noble birth, they were so well-bred and nurtured that they were as far apart from the commoners around her as clouds from mud. Having lost her family in childhood, she hadn't received much of an education, but in her spare time, she loved to scour book stalls for collections of poetry. She recalled a phrase that fit him perfectly: "A scholar’s belly holds poetry and books; his refinement comes from within." He must be a learned man; with knowledge naturally came that composed and elegant air. Setting aside her old grudges, Dingyi felt truly grateful to him in that moment. Regardless of anything else, the fact that he was willing to speak up for her showed that he was, at the very least, kinder than the seventh.
As for the seventh Prince, Hongtao, she had occasionally heard him mentioned while gossiping at the yamen. It was said he had a foul temper and loved to be pedantic about everything, completely wasting the title of "Virtuous Prince."
"You don't understand the reasons behind this," the seventh Prince said, somewhat impatiently. "It’s not something I can explain to you."
"I have asked my subordinates, and to my eyes, this isn't a matter of great importance. Since Anba Lingwu has already been brought to justice, there is no need to dwell on what came before." The kind-hearted Prince glanced at her. "If it were up to me, he should not be killed—he should even be rewarded."
The seventh Prince’s brows knitted together. "I understand what you mean, but he defied my wishes."
"All the officials in the court are staying out of it, and the matter has been resolved smoothly. Yet, at the very end, you have ended up smeared with filth, with people saying you have ties to Anba Lingwu. If this reaches the Emperor’s ears, do you think it will sound pleasant?" He turned around and tilted his chin. "Let her go."
The guards were all bondservants of the Banner, and having received a hint from their master’s brother, they dared not disobey, though they dared not fully comply either. They loosened their grip on her, looking hesitantly at Hongtao’s face. Hongtao had been furious just moments ago and spoke impulsively, but upon reflection, he realized there was indeed some impropriety. In truth, an ant is an ant; crushing one to death is no great matter. What mattered was that if the news spread, it would be of no benefit to him. Having weighed the pros and cons, the heat of his anger had dissipated, and he intended to slide down the pole while he still had the chance.
"Did you not hear Twelfth Brother?" He waved his hands dismissively, signaling for them to release her. But letting her go just like that was too easy on her, so he glared with arched brows. "Today counts as your good fortune. Without Twelfth Brother interceding for you, even if you kept your life, I would have had your legs broken and arms shattered. Use your head next time; if you fall into my hands again, take care of your own skin!"
Dingyi had been drenched in a cold sweat. As the guards let go, it felt as though she had taken a stroll before the gates of Hell; her legs felt weak and numb. When she finally regained her composure, she bowed and said, "Yes, this servant will remember. Next time I see your Highness, I will be sure to serve you well." Seeing him about to board his sedan chair, she hurried forward to lift the curtain. "The weather is hot; I have troubled you, your Highness... safe travels."
Just like that, a slight looseness in the seventh Prince’s fingers had been enough to grant her a new lease on life. She turned back to look at the twelfth Prince. The sunlight shone on the embroidered dragon on his shoulder; dragon head, four claws—standing there, he was as majestic as a mountain.
He didn't seem to care about listening to her pleasantries. Once the matter was settled, he stepped over the pole into his chair. Though she hesitated, Dingyi still crept over to call out "Your Highness" and dropped into a deep bow. "Today, thanks to you, your Highness, I have managed to keep my life. Your great kindness is something this servant will never forget. Should you have any orders in the future, this servant is willing to go through fire and water to repay the debt of saving my life."
She said a mouthful, but strangely, the Prince seemed not to have heard. He sat still, and his expression didn't change much. The screen woven of bamboo strips allowed the breeze to pass through, keeping the sedan chair cool in the summer heat. The small curtain at the window fluttered in the wind, casting scattered light across his face and body. He looked solemn and dignified, a sight one couldn't tear their eyes away from.
A Prince is a Prince; their grandeur is innate. Saving you doesn't mean they are willing to interact with you. Having met with a snub, she had no choice but to retreat awkwardly to the side. However, a close attendant by his side did answer her: "His Highness knows. Be more careful in the future; he could save you once, but he may not be able to save you a second time."
She kept nodding in agreement, her waist arched like a shrimp. "I respectfully see your Highness off."
The royal guards marched off, kicking up a cloud of dust on the yellow road, their footsteps rumbling as they moved into the distance. Only then did she straighten up. Watching them, she could see nothing but the pale blue swallows on the roof of the sedan chair fluttering. It was rare, yet incongruous, for such a pure stream to emerge in a place so filled with blood.
She had survived a brush with death, but she had scared the other yamen workers silly; they kept their distance, not daring to come close. It wasn't until the Princes and their guards had turned the corner that they surrounded her, shrinking their necks and sticking out their tongues. "You’ve got a massive amount of luck, kid. Go home and tell your master; tonight, boil yourself a bowl of noodles. You’ve regained a life—you’ll live for dozens of years more."
She let out a long breath, suddenly feeling the world spinning. Wiping the sweat from her face, she muttered, "I was terrified out of my wits..." And with that, she collapsed.
The others cried out in alarm. It seemed that between the heat and the shock, she had been hit with a double whammy of heatstroke. They scrambled to carry her into He Nian Tang, laid her on a rattan couch, wiped her face with a cool cloth, and fanned her. The clerks mixed some vinegar tea and fed it to her; it took ages for her to come around. Even then, she was still thinking about the execution ground, struggling to point outward. "I haven't finished my work yet!"
A few of them hurriedly held her down. "It was handled properly ages ago. Lie down and don't move. You’ve just come back from the dead; can't you even take a breath? If we’d left that little bit of work to drag on until now, the bugs would have arrived, and He Nian Tang would have had to close shop."
She relaxed and lay back, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. All that commotion just now had stirred up the past like a flooded kitchen; everything, sweet and sour, had come surging out. Because she had lived through it, she felt that being alive was truly not easy. She had encountered a kind-hearted person today; if the twelfth Prince had stood by and watched, she would be down below looking for her parents right now. Actually, she was quite philosophical about it. The moment of death was painful, but once it passed, it was a relief. Honestly speaking, death might be better; it was preferable to living like this, neither man nor woman. If the people she usually hung out with hadn't known she disliked scrapings and hadn't peeled off her clothes while she was dazed, this life would have ended there.
Everyone clicked their tongues in relief for her, saying the Twelfth Prince was a good man and her lucky star. As a menial laborer at the yamen, how many high officials could she really see? She was eighteen layers of heaven away from the "True Buddha." Princes killing people she had heard of; Princes saving people was a rarity. Zhang Dequan scratched his ears and cheeks, muttering, "The Prince of Chun isn't often seen. Didn't they say he just returned from Khalkha?"
He Nian Tang did business on the street, welcoming guests from all directions, so their information was better than theirs. The clerk, dusting the counter, replied, "Don't you know? The Prince of Chun’s mother was a Khalkha noble consort. Her rank was high, but she was just a display piece. The old Emperor and the Empress Dowager’s cherished son, the Thirteenth Prince, was the legitimate heir of two dynasties—he was the apple of their eye. As for the other sons... well, I won't go into detail, but they were all a cut below. The Prince of Chun was enfeoffed as a Beile at thirteen and sent off to Khalkha to be the local lord; he spent more than ten years there. During that time, the Left Wing of the Khalkha secretly wanted to rebel. Before they even started, the news leaked out. The Twelfth Prince acted like a sickle cutting wheat, swish-swish, and cleaned them all up. Because he performed such a meritorious service, he didn't even get exiled. He returned to the capital and was enfeoffed as a Heshuo Qinwang. He really brought glory to his mother."
Everyone praised him. The more he was pushed aside, the more capable he became; he was truly a good man!
The clerk tilted his neck and clicked his tongue twice. "It’s a pity, such a great lord..."
Everyone asked what was wrong. He just shook his head and wouldn't speak, so they cursed him. "Stopping in the middle of a sentence isn't human. May your sister give birth tomorrow, and only finish half of it."
"You bunch of people..." The clerk pointed a finger at them, his face flushed with irritation. "Nothing good comes out of a dog's mouth! I’m telling you, you wouldn't have a chance to verify it anyway... The Prince of Chun... he can't hear! The moon has its shadows, and people have their blindness, muteness, deafness, and lameness! But even though he can't hear clearly, he’s still sharp-witted. As long as you speak directly toward him, he can still reply to every single word clearly."
Dingyi, who had been lying down, sat up. No wonder he hadn't reacted when she thanked him earlier; that was what it was about. To read lips and have to ponder the words in his head—that must be exhausting. Good people suffer hardships, while villains live in comfort. Take that Seventh Prince—why couldn't he be the deaf one!
The group sighed in melancholy. "How did he get such a condition if he was perfectly fine before? He can speak, so does that mean he went deaf later?"
"Nine times out of ten, yes." The clerk nodded. "If you can't hear from childhood, how can you learn to speak?"
They were just getting into the conversation when the manager of He Nian Tang entered—a tall, thin, old man with freckles on his cheekbones. His face dropped, looking like a stuffed flatbread as he shouted at the clerk: "What are you talking about? Are you tired of living? That is a Prince! Do you think he’s your neighbor? Spreading gossip will bring disaster to the shop. I’ll tear you apart! As if I’m not already annoyed enough, I’ve got a headache full of lawsuits as it is!"
After the manager scolded him, everyone felt awkward. Coincidentally, Xia Zhi got the news and came to pick her up. He entered, slapped his thigh, and complained, "That damned Yang Er told me to come collect your corpse. It scared the life out of me! To pull such a prank on me—damn it!" He stroked his face and ears, his eyes actually welling up with tears. "Even though we bicker all the time, if you were really dead, I’d truly be heartbroken."
The people nearby added their own accounts, describing the scene. Dingyi felt a bit humiliated; being pinned down was not a good look. Since she was a girl, she really didn't want to think about it anymore. She got off the couch, put on her shoes, and pulled on Xia Zhi. She smiled, "See, isn't everything fine? Don't be so jumpy. Senior brother, let's go back. I need to report to Master that I'm safe." After saying that, she cupped her hands to everyone. "Sorry to have troubled you all. Thank you. My senior brother will book the 'Little Immortal Residence' to treat you all to drinks. I hope you’ll all do us the honor."
Xia Zhi let out a "Hey." "When did I ever agree to that?"
"It’s settled. See you later." She dragged Xia Zhi out and grumbled, "Am I not your junior apprentice? I just cheated death; you need to buy me something to calm my nerves."
Xia Zhi thought about it and gritted his teeth, saying, "Fine. As long as you're alive. I was truly terrified to see you with your head chopped off. On my way here, I passed the leather shop and agreed on a price with Old Ma—two taels of silver to sew your head back on. Since you didn't die, consider that money a celebratory offering to drive away the bad luck. It was worth it."
A senior brother is a senior brother, after all. Dingyi sniffed and climbed onto the flatbed cart he had originally prepared to haul corpses.
The cicadas were singing enthusiastically in the branches, and a gust of hot air rushed toward her. Holding a paper umbrella, she asked, "Senior brother, do you know the Prince of Chun? He’s the one who saved me today."
Xia Zhi grunted. "This Prince doesn't walk outside much; I know little about him. Why? Are you thinking of repaying him? He’s a member of the imperial clan; it was just a small effort to do a good deed, and he’s likely forgotten it already. If you take a box of 'Beijing Eight Treasures' to his doorstep to thank him, the manager of the Prince’s manor won't even let you in. Just behave yourself!"
She hadn't been thinking of repaying him; she was just sorry to hear about his ear ailment. When she told Xia Zhi, he coughed. "Life is full of ups and downs. The imperial clan eats the court’s stipend; can they really be more pitiful than us? Trading human heads for copper coins—who would want their hands covered in blood? If I were a Prince, I’d be willing to be deaf!"
True enough, she laughed at herself. She had reached this point entirely thanks to people like them. Even if one matter was separate from another, she simply didn't like anyone with the surname Yuwen. Her current obsession was saving money to go to the Changbai Mountains to find her brothers. Once she found them, she would no longer be without support. Today’s event was just a trivial encounter; once it passed, it would be forgotten.