Love in Red Dust - Chapter 49
Chapter 49
This remark was a bit revealing, and as they looked at each other, both felt a sudden wave of embarrassment.
Dingyi was a straightforward person, but fearing he might feel awkward, she acted as if she hadn't noticed and smiled. "No need to tuck it in; I sleep quite still. My nanny always said I never roll around in my sleep; I wake up exactly as I lay down... It’s getting late. I’ve kept you up all night—aren't you tired?"
"I’m a man; I’m not that delicate." He smiled, and finally, he reached over to take her hand. "Look, now that we’ve settled things, I just want to keep my eyes on you. I’ve lived twenty-four years, and this is the first time I’ve felt such closeness to someone. My heart is burning so brightly right now that I wouldn't be able to sleep even if I laid down. I remember before we left the capital, you read my palm and said I’d have a change of heart within three years. Who would have thought you’d be so accurate?"
Dingyi covered her face and giggled. "That was all just nonsense I made up—and you actually believed it! Don't look at me so much; if you look too often, the novelty will wear off, and one day you’ll feel disgusted just seeing my shadow. Why bother?" Though she joked, she asked her own heart, and the truth was the same. Her life had been hard; she’d lost her parents and her brother. Although she was well-cared for by her master during her six years of apprenticeship, she had always hidden her true feelings, making her lonely at the core. Now, she had struck gold; an incredible man had fallen into her lap. She was afraid that if she held him in her mouth, he might melt. If he wanted to look, she would pull back her hair and let him look to his heart’s content. She just wondered how long this sentiment could last, and if, in three or five years, he would still be able to summon this same fervor.
She pulled him into the room and whispered, "I’m young now, but in a couple of years, when the wrinkles appear, don't look too closely. Just remember me as I am when I’m pretty."
A strand of hair fell across her brow, and he tucked it behind her ear, laughing, "Wrinkles are a long way off. I’ve read your fortune; you’ll have at least twenty more years of flower-like beauty and sixty years of prosperity and riches."
She let out a soft snort of laughter. "Twenty more years and I’ll be almost forty. If I’m still pretty at forty, I’ll be an old enchantress. I’m worried; I’ve always felt my fate was cursed. Back then, all my relatives called me a jinx, saying I’d killed my parents and driven away my brother. The whole family was left with only me, and whoever took me in would be met with misfortune. That’s why they kept driving me out—they wouldn't even let me cross their threshold. Sometimes I think they might be right. I truly carry a hex, and anyone who gets close to me suffers. Now that you think so highly of me, I’m both happy and worried. If I bring disaster upon you, even if it’s not my wish, you’ll be the one suffering, and I’ll blame myself for a lifetime."
As she rambled on, the cold rejection she had suffered in the past made his heart ache. He helped her onto the footstool in front of the kang, lifted the quilt for her to crawl into, and said, "Don't talk such nonsense. That your whole family died was a predestined tribulation; that you alone survived proves your fortune is immense. How can you be linked to a 'jinx'? They didn't want to take you in because the Wen family’s assets had all been sold by then, and you were all alone—you can't squeeze oil from a stone. Try it when a family is flourishing; show up with the deeds to the house and land, and see if they don't line the streets to welcome you. There are plenty of snobs in this world; even among real siblings, if you go to them for help, you might not get a kind face. At best, they’ll give you a few taels of silver and tell you to go back to the palace to offer blessings. The warmth and coldness of human relationships and the fickleness of the world have always been this way."
She lay on the pillow, watching him pull up a stool to sit by the kang as he spoke, unable to hide the melting warmth of the smile on her face.
He had ended up sitting down while tucking in the quilt. They had known each other for several months; how had she never realized he was a man who said one thing but did another? The Prince was a flesh-and-blood man, not a portrait hanging on a wall or a solemn stone monument. At twenty-four, he was in the prime of his youth—this was exactly how he should be.
She said softly, "I know what’s what; I’ve made up my mind not to interact with them. They live in Bichai Alley, and I often passed by there on my way to work, but I never even glanced in their direction. Once the older generation is gone, it’s all over. We drift further apart; they don't think of me, and I don't think of them."
He nodded. "Wait and see. There will come a day when they come knocking on your door begging to see you. Manchu rules are old-fashioned; they might slight a son, but never a daughter. A daughter might just leap over the dragon gate and have a future beyond measure. In your case, it’s true—though we aren't entering the palace to become a consort, being sisters-in-law to the Empress and the noble ladies is no less honorable."
Hearing him say this, Dingyi’s heart thumped wildly. She had never dared to think that far ahead—the mention of "sisters-in-law" made it sound as if they were already engaged. A young girl, thin-skinned, wasn't like a man who dared to imagine and speak of such things. She looked down, twisting her hem, and muttered, "Why are you like my master? He said the same thing, saying that my future prospects were limitless..." She glanced at him, driftingly, her face flushed to her ears. "Don't say such things so casually; if outsiders hear, they’ll laugh."
In the past, when she acted as a man, she held her head high like a young master. Now that she had returned to her true self, she was just a young lady, and every gesture was filled with a shy charm. Dizzy with delight, he moved, rising from the stool to sit on the edge of the kang. Her arms were pressed against the quilt, and he diligently picked them up to tuck them inside. "Don't catch a cold..."
Such a gentle and considerate man was hard to find anywhere in heaven or earth. Before his hand could retract, she pulled it into her hold, foolishly not letting go. She wanted to ask if he was cold, but instead, he leaned down and pecked her on the lips. It wasn't a reckless, greedy indulgence—just a fleeting touch. He cupped her face with warm palms, pressing his forehead against hers, and said, "Dingyi, if we are to reach a happy ending, there will likely be many detours. No matter how many obstacles we encounter, remember that you are in my heart. Even if I am stripped of my noble status, I will marry you."
She trusted him. She had already prepared herself to ask for no title; to be together openly and honestly was an unexpected joy, and if it couldn't be, she wouldn't complain or suffer.
She reached out to stroke his spine. "Let things take their course; don't force it. Forcing things only leads to unhappiness. I used to travel the streets doing manual labor before I met you, and didn't I live just fine?"
He gave a bitter laugh. "Actually, it’s me who is anxious. I’m afraid Old Seven will snatch you away. He’s sharp-minded; if one day he tricks you and you change your mind to go with him, I won't have a prayer."
"What nonsense. He was pouring his heart out to me long before you were, and if I had wanted that, would you even be in the picture?" she said softly. "Don't look at my bitter background; I’m not someone who would entrust myself to just anyone."
He caught the drift, teasingly, "You’ve had your eye on me for a long time, and you were just waiting for me, weren't you?"
This was something she could never admit, but being called out on it made her lose her composure. Flustered, she shrank into the quilt, covered her head, and said, "Not at all... I’m sleepy. I’m going to sleep; do as you please!"
He only laughed, sitting on the edge of the kang without rising. His previous words had been mere teasing. He no longer remembered when he had started falling for her—perhaps it was even earlier than her, or maybe on that day of the thunderstorm, or on the road to Shuntian Prefecture... He understood Old Seven’s state of mind; when he didn't know she was a woman, he had truly suspected he was gay. His brothers were stubborn; the Yuwen family was stubborn to a fault, so when they locked horns, it became exceptionally troublesome.
Dingyi, wrapped in the quilt—his bedding, filled with the faint scent of him—could hear nothing but the thunderous beating of her own heart. There was no sound outside. Did he leave? Slowly, she poked her head out to look, meeting his clear, gentle eyes. She puffed out her cheeks. "Why aren't you going?"
He said, "I’ll look at you a little longer. Go to sleep; I’ll leave once you’re asleep."
Her arms poked out from the quilt, the wide sleeves falling back, lifting her snow-white arms like soft clouds in the lamplight. She said, "Hongce, hold me."
In that moment, his mind went blank. He lifted her body; she was thin, light as a feather. Pressed against his chest, he felt his entire ribcage trembling. A sour yet sweet taste rushed over him, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck.
There was nothing to do but sigh deeply. He sought her lips, not daring to be rash, tasting them lightly. When one loves deeply, one fears causing harm; the more one cherishes, the more cautious one becomes. He lingered on her lips and teeth, knowing that if they continued like this, it would be a disaster. He wanted to pull away but truly couldn't bear to. With great resolve, he finally parted from her. Her eyes were unfocused, and she lay on the pillow breathing slightly. He didn't even dare to look at her again; he hurriedly stepped onto the footstool and said, "The night is too deep... rest." He lifted the felt curtain and vanished.
The next day, snow and wind continued to batter the sky. The weather was too severe for the team to travel, so they were delayed at the Imperial Manor for another day.
Outside, the air was bitter and frozen, but in the Prince’s room, the fire brazier burned bright. The red plum blossoms he had arranged in a vase the night before had bloomed, and the Seventh Prince stood before the desk, deep in thought.
The curtain lifted, and Na Jin entered, hands tucked into his sleeves. Having been exposed to the freezing wind for a long time, the sudden heat made his nose itch, and he let out a dozen thunderous sneezes. Usually, hearing such a racket, the Seventh Prince would have cursed, but today he was silent, muttering, "It bloomed. A good omen!"
Na Jin didn't hear clearly; he sniffled and approached, mumbling, "With snow this heavy, the Twelfth Prince’s men are still going out to handle business. They’re truly risking their lives."
The Seventh Prince ignored him, his eyes fixed on the vase, a smile on his face. From the side, Na Jin thought it looked a bit terrifying. He called out timidly, "Master? Are you alright? Is something bothering you? Shall I fetch a physician?"
The Seventh Prince shook his head with his hands behind his back. "I’m fine, I’m excellent! Look at these flowers—they’ve bloomed! What is this? An auspicious sign! They say our great empire enjoys harmony and prosperity, but that has nothing to do with me. This flower is me! The withered tree has met spring. I’m not gay—is that not a great thing?"
So that’s why he’s happy? Na Jin tilted his head. "Yes, yes, yes. You finally don't have to worry about that anymore, and you can explain it to the Noble Consort in the future. Imagine the suffering you would have faced if you had stayed on that path! Your side-consorts and concubines would have fought you to the death; you wouldn't even be able to beat a few of them combined..." He agreed superficially, but in his heart, he thought, These flowers aren't you—they’re clearly the Twelfth Prince! Yesterday, Mu Xiaoshu stayed the night in the Twelfth Prince’s room. They were both hot-blooded youths, full of vigor—one spark was all it took. And the Seventh Prince? He was wandering further and further away on his quest for happiness, while his concubines were being handed over to someone else, and he was still stupidly happy. Happy about what?
The Seventh Prince glared at him fiercely. "What, are you mocking me? Being gay or not is secondary. What I’m happiest about is that my Shu-er... she’s a woman! Since she’s a woman, it’s easy. I’ll just get her ready and bring her into the manor, fait accompli. I’ll start her as a gege, promote her step by step, and once she bears a son, I’ll make her the primary wife."
Na Jin stuck out his tongue. "Your plan is excellent, but I’m afraid little Shu can't wait. Don't you know? She stayed the night in the Twelfth Prince’s room yesterday. When the son is born, he’ll be the Twelfth Prince’s—what will you do then?"
The Seventh Prince hadn't considered this question. He paused, stunned, and said, "Old Twelve isn't that kind of person. Staying the night doesn't mean anything; they respect boundaries, he won't do anything to her."
"You trust the Twelfth Prince too much. If I may speak plainly, he’s a young man in his prime, and he’s with the one he loves—does he care about those things? Don't worry, even if he doesn't know how, he’ll learn. The Twelfth Prince is such a smart man... for you, this matter is already too late. He has succeeded, and we’ve gone through all this trouble for nothing."
The Seventh Prince exclaimed, incredulous. "I am the master! The master hasn't consented—would she dare to give herself away?"
Na Jin said, "Well... there wasn't a seal on the door, was there? Besides, did you not hear the roar the Twelfth Prince gave you when he left?"
The Seventh Prince had been so shaken by last night that he didn't remember what Hongce had said. He asked slowly, "What did that boy roar?"
Na Jin cleared his throat, scratched his head, and said, "The Twelfth Prince said you weren't allowed to touch little Shu with a single finger, or he would kill you."
The Seventh Prince hissed, "That rebel! His education has gone to the dogs—doesn't he know the order of seniority? It should be my turn first! Besides, little Shu is my bondsmaid; him stepping in is bullying! Tell me, did they stay in the same room last night? Did they sleep on the same kang?"
Na Jin said, "I don't know if they slept on the same kang, but they definitely stayed in the same room. The lamp was lit all night... since the Twelfth Prince can't hear, he needs the light to see clearly."
The Seventh Prince felt his heart shatter. He slammed his fist onto the Eight Immortals table, his face turning red with rage. "Hongce, if I don't bring you down, I’ll write the name Yuwen backwards! Trying to play games with me—if the tiger doesn't roar, you think I’m a sick cat?" He pointed a finger, nearly poking Na Jin in the forehead. "Go, see if they’re up yet. If they are, tell her to come see me. I must have a serious talk with her about reason."
It had reached this point, and he still wanted to see if she was up—was this deep love or just spinelessness? Na Jin shuffled his feet, then turned back after two steps to ask, "Master, if little Shu and the Twelfth Prince have already consummated their marriage, why are you still looking for her?"
The Seventh Prince tilted his head back, his jawline tense, his eyes flickering between rage, hesitation, and anxiety. Na Jin had followed him since childhood and knew his temper better than anyone; this time, it would inevitably end in abuse. He was worried—they were far from the capital, and if the brothers clashed, the Twelfth Prince had elites, while the Prince’s personal guards weren't enough to contend with them. With a heavy heart, wanting to urge him to reconsider, the Seventh Prince, who had been silent for a long time, finally spoke—
"Actually, regarding a woman’s chastity—whether she’s been married or not—the Xianbei people weren't so particular. Back in the Jin period, my grandfather even swapped concubines with his brother... If little Shu can come back to me, I will still treat her well. But if she doesn't listen, when I return to the capital, I’ll have her master quartered so she can think it over carefully."
Na Jin was defeated by his master’s willingness to submit to humiliation. First, peel the skin off her senior apprentice-brother, and then quarter her master? Is love obtained through threats even worth it? His master had truly reached such a low point; it was truly heartbreaking to behold!