Love in Red Dust - Chapter 52
Chapter 52
Dingyi looked at him as if she were staring at a demon. Trembling, she said, "You are good in every way, but there is one thing: you don’t like to ask for others' opinions, and that is a significant flaw. Things like proposing marriage or getting wed—you cannot just decide those on your own. Even though I have no family left, I still have my master. You must consult that elderly gentleman regarding matters of marriage; it shows you have respect for those around you."
The Seventh Prince was stunned. "What is that supposed to mean? Does it simply mean you are unwilling?"
She replied, "Yes. You and I know nothing of each other; it is far too early to talk about marriage."
"How is it early? How do we not know each other? I know you are the disciple of Wu Changgeng, and that your family died off, leaving you no choice but to apprentice under a headsman. That is enough, isn’t it? What more could be missing?"
Everything he called "knowing her" was based on shallow, superficial facts. How could any of that be considered truly understanding her? Dingyi slowly shook her head. "Understanding isn't just about one's origins; it requires observing each other to see if we can talk to one another and if our temperaments are compatible. It’s not just a man and a woman coming together to randomly get through the days."
The Seventh Prince felt she was being far too particular. "There are countless people who marry blindly; don't they all live quite well? As for whether we can talk, I feel we are quite compatible; look, we always have endless things to say. As for our temperaments, I may be discourteous to others, but I am very considerate to those in my own household. Go ask my secondary consort; I am a good man."
Continuing this topic was pointless. Dingyi smiled and said, "I know you are a good person, but not every good person is suitable to be a husband. I must find someone I am willing to entrust myself to, so we can live happily for a lifetime. You said you would not force me. Will you let me choose for myself? I may not necessarily pick between you and the Twelfth Prince; perhaps I might meet a guard, a farmer, or an orchard keeper, and if I feel they are good to me and we are well-matched, I will marry them."
"I think you have lost your mind. Marrying a farmer or an orchard keeper—have you not suffered enough in this life? If it truly comes to that, I would rather you marry the Twelfth Prince. At least he is a prince; you wouldn't have to worry about food or clothing..."
"It is still you, Master, who cares for me most. With those words from you, I feel very much at ease." Before the Seventh Prince could finish, she cut him off. Joyfully, she bowed slightly and said, "You go ahead and get busy. You must wear your cloak when you go out; don't catch a cold. The weather here is too harsh, and a common cold is hard to cure." She touched her head and then his head, and once she finished speaking, she scurried away like a wisp of smoke.
The Seventh Prince hadn't even regained his senses before she was already far away. A bit bewildered, he patted the back of his neck and muttered, "What did I say? Why was she so happy?"
Na Jin held his hands tucked in his sleeves and said gloomily, "Your love is too deep. Since you can't have her yourself, you are unwilling to let her marry those peasants and suffer, so you would rather she be with the Twelfth Prince—isn't that exactly what the other party wanted? And she didn't even thank you; heaven truly does not favor you."
The Seventh Prince let out an "Ah," his reaction a bit slow. On second thought, he mused, "I was just saying that; I didn't mean it for real. Where would she go to marry a peasant? No matter how she turns, she is still in my palm."
Na Jin had nothing more to say and just asked, "Is the banquet still going on? If she is unwilling to come, what will you do with a full table?"
The Seventh Prince said it would proceed. "Even if I have to tie her up, I will bring her here. My previous idea remains unchanged: I will take her into my quarters right here in Ningguta. If I let the food on my plate fly away, it only means I, the Banner Lord, am too useless. Hongce is always there poking at my eyes; even if it’s just to make him uncomfortable, I must take Mu Xiaoshu."
Sometimes the Seventh Prince was just like this. If he spoke of love, he truly loved her, constantly thinking of her. If he spoke of not loving, he didn't love her that much. He had simply never grown up; he was completely naive. If something was desired by others, even a rotten vegetable looked good. If he had nothing to do with it, he wanted to get involved; if he failed, he would slap his knees and sigh, and if he succeeded, he would provoke envy—that was his entire motivation.
Na Jin could see it clearly; he was the same as always—even after a struggle, he found glory in defeat. If one were to truly judge what was best, Xiaoshu would undoubtedly be better off with the Twelfth Prince. Na Jin had been watching coldly from the sidelines for a long time and could see that the Twelfth Prince was a steady and long-suffering man, not unreliable like the Seventh Prince, who would hold you up to the heavens when he liked you and cast you aside the moment he didn't. Eunuchs were the people closest to men in body and closest to women in spirit. To speak from the heart, the Twelfth Prince’s affection was like a spring rain that silently moisturized everything. There were no shocking waves; even the most intense moment was limited to that one shout at the Seventh Prince. But the more composed a man was, the more he proved to be someone worthy of a lifelong commitment. For a life together, simple and peaceful was enough. They weren't on stage singing operatic roles, where being imposing and magnificent only left one exhausted.
Na Jin understood, and naturally, Dingyi understood as well. She gave no thought to the Seventh Prince’s banquet. Having agreed on a time with the Twelfth Prince, she got up before the sky was even bright. After tidying the room and feeding the birds, she worried about leaving them for too long, so she entrusted them to Shatong, asking him to help feed them. As for the Seventh Prince, she really should have said something, but she was afraid that if word leaked out, she wouldn't be able to leave. Furthermore, his mention of getting married the day before had made her scalp crawl with fear. Leaving now was a way to avoid disaster; it would be soon enough to return once the wind had died down and the Seventh Prince had lost his temper.
Feeling her way through the darkness to the corner of the corridor, she peered toward the Seventh Prince’s quarters. A wind-lamp hung in front of his door, but there was no movement, save for two guards. She crouched low and slipped out. Her boots crunched on the ice, making a rustling sound. She felt very happy; the cold wind brushing her face didn't feel cold at all—instead, it felt bracing and liberating.
In the Twelfth Prince’s courtyard, only a single ox-tendon lantern was lit. Through the shadows, she could see figures moving. As she got closer, she saw they were all wearing thick, black sheepskin cloaks. When they saw her arrive, they didn't speak. One of them threw a cloak toward her from a distance. He raised the lamp and walked toward the stables in the back, where someone was already waiting. He took the reins, leaped onto his horse, and with a shake of the reins, they set off from the inn in a line.
At the end of the year in Ningguta, the days were short and the nights long. Traveling in the pitch black was difficult; it wasn't until nearly the Chen hour (7-9 AM) that the horizon began to flush with a faint glow. Dingyi looked into the distance; the line near the horizon was a violet color, slowly blending upward into lilac. She had never seen such subtle layers of change; perhaps it was a weather phenomenon unique to the northern lands, but it always felt mysterious and difficult to judge.
The Suifen River was not actually very far from the city of Ningguta, but because of the extreme cold and the thick accumulated snow on the road, progress was difficult. A small cavalry troop moved slowly in the rising sun. Out of respect for their master, no one spoke; not even a cough could be heard. Dingyi turned her head; the Twelfth Prince was right beside her. The fox-fur collar framed half his face, revealing only his eyes and brows. They were no longer their usual gentle selves; they were as sharp as a stranger's. She felt a sense of wonder; for a moment, she thought she had mistaken the man. Looking closer, those eyes shimmered with a myriad of light under the sun. He paused slightly, his gaze shifting over to meet hers exactly.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly turned her face away. He called out to her, asking if she was cold. She said she was fine, adding, "This place really requires wearing sheepskin coats; no wonder the market price is so high."
"Furs aren't the most expensive items here; books are the most valuable. The Korean people admire the culture of the Central Plains. A single volume of calligraphy or a letter can be traded for a whole ox; you wouldn't find such a market in the capital." As he spoke, he looked up at the sky, "We will arrive in another hour. The market opens at the Si hour (9-11 AM); we will arrive just in time. Later, find a place to settle down, and wait for me to find you once I have finished my business."
She frowned, "I wanted to come to help. What is the point of being left alone in a teahouse? I want to follow you."
He laughed, "Be obedient. The crowds are full of crude and savage hunters and peasants; their bodies reek of mutton. Are you willing to smell that? Besides, we don't know their origins; if there is a conflict and things turn violent, you will have no way to protect yourself. It is better to find a place to wait for me. We cannot leave immediately after observing the human market this morning; we should stay for a few more days to watch how things develop. Tomorrow is New Year's Eve; I will take you to the market to pick out some clothes, so we can have a proper New Year."
His whispered, gentle words were the language of lovers, filled with consideration and reassurance. Dingyi felt quite shy. She looked around, and seeing that the guards seemed not to hear, the flush on her face began to rise, bright and dazzling against the morning glow.
His smile deepened, "Why are you blushing? I didn't say anything."
The more he acted this way, the more embarrassed she felt. After all, there were outsiders everywhere. These intimate words made her feel shy when overheard. The Twelfth Prince was very particular about military discipline; his guards were well-trained, and every word and expression they used was perfectly measured. She was afraid of being laughed at, but they were like wide-open sacks, allowing one to pour anything into them; they only cared about carrying the weight and never worried about the bottom falling out.
However, she was ultimately thin-skinned. She gave him a resentful look and pouted, "You didn't say anything, so why would I blush?"
"Then I must have seen it wrong." He smiled contentedly, one corner of his mouth hanging low in a way that was surprisingly rakish.
She hurriedly changed the subject, asking, "We are going to the Suifen River—did you leave word for the Seventh Prince? He is, after all, an imperial envoy; if we do this behind his back, he will surely complain again."
He hummed, "The graveyard we visited during the day was not a mass grave. The people who die on the Imperial Estates every year are buried there, and each tomb has a name tag for verification; it is easier to find people there than in the Changbai Mountains. I discussed it with him yesterday and asked him to let Lu Yuan come to see us, so Lu Yuan could take soldiers to search it section by section. He wouldn't have to do it himself, just listen to the reports at the site. But he was unwilling, overturned the walnut cart, and rambled on about a bunch of ghosts and spirits. Since that’s the case, I didn't say anything more. Once the business at Suifen is finished, I will handle it myself. He is already a 'peaceful' prince who doesn't ask about matters; forcing him to handle official business is difficult for him. It is easier to just bypass him entirely and handle it myself."
In truth, the court had sent the Seventh Prince this time to help him establish a career. After the Emperor ascended the throne, the brothers were successively promoted, but not everyone could become a Prince of the First Rank. Many who had military merit and accomplishments still only held the title of Prince of the Second Rank. He was eating the salary without doing the work while occupying a Prince's position, so what were others supposed to think? The Emperor was a man of great depth; he didn't explicitly tell him to assist, but there was a hidden purpose to their discussion during the family banquet at the Changchun Garden. Pointing the Seventh Prince in this direction was merely a formality; after all, given that he had been sent away to Khalkha for over a decade, it was difficult for the Emperor to refuse such a request.
Dingyi only knew that he was working too hard, doing everything himself, yet when it came time to report merits to the capital, the Seventh Prince would inevitably get his share of the credit. She sighed, "You are a capable person who does too much; sometimes, 'a loss is a blessing'."
He nodded with a smile, "Isn't that so? This time the blessing is profound. Even if all the credit goes to the Seventh Prince, my heart is at peace. A Hoshoi Chin Wang (Prince of the First Rank) is already above the standard ranks. The mansion has so much property; just living off the land and the buildings is more than enough for a life of luxury. There was one thing missing before, and now it is complete. What else could I ask for?"
Knowing that those around him were all his trusted aides, he no longer beat around the bush. Dingyi was shy and unwilling to entertain him. She pulled her hood up to cover her face, leaving only her eyes darting about, looking as vibrant as the shimmering light on glazed roof tiles.
Moving along, their timing proved perfect; they arrived at the Suifen River just as the market was opening. People from all directions gathered—merchants from the north and south, along with traders from neighboring subject states. With various cultures colliding and merging, the market was far more prosperous than the one in Ningguta.
He settled her into a tavern near the human market, found a seat facing east, ordered tea and snacks, and left a guard to look after her. Dingyi leaned forward to look; from here, she could see the situation in the market perfectly. It was just as in her memory: a high platform built of broken wooden boards, where a dozen or so slaves were tied together with grass ropes and driven onto the stage with whips. They stumbled, disheveled, their features blurred. First, the buyers would pick and choose; those not chosen were driven down to make room for the next batch. Usually, they would churn through twenty or thirty people in a morning.
"Why are there women too?" She said with a drooping lip, "If the people sold aren't family servants, then it's suspicious. If they want strong laborers for work, are these girls being trafficked to Korea?"
He said it wasn't certain, "Those with beauty are popular everywhere; their prices are even higher than a strong laborer. Some people have broken their heads fighting over a pretty girl. The people in this area are tough and fierce, so you must be careful when walking outside." He signaled the guard, "Take good care of her; if anything goes wrong, I will hold you responsible." He turned back and pressed his hand on her wrist through her sheepskin coat, "Don't move around. Just wait for me here."
Dingyi watched him leave and then turned her gaze back to the distance. The girls on the platform looked quite young, only about ten or twenty years old. Poor things—they were shrinking away in cold and fear. The buyers looked at their teeth and pulled back their eyelids like they were inspecting livestock—they called it 'checking the fat.' They would grab at their chests and casually rub their arms and legs. The girls could not resist; if they did, they were met with a savage beating. Dingyi’s nose ached as she watched; it was hard not to put herself in their shoes. She considered herself lucky; back then, she had been protected by her wet nurse, or if she had fallen into the hands of a human trafficker, her fate might be even worse than theirs.
The tavern was two stories high, providing a perfect vantage point. The Twelfth Prince and his men walked through, like a clear spring flowing into muddy water. Even though the area was filled with all sorts of people, they could be distinguished at a glance.
The market was roaring with noise, and all kinds of shouting and hawking vibrated in her ears. She watched for a long time, then turned and poured tea for the guard who had remained. Although they were not one family, she was a lively person, and she was familiar with almost everyone inside and out. Later, when she transformed from a man into a woman overnight and became entangled with the Twelfth Prince, those guards felt a bit awkward whenever they saw her, not sure how they should treat her. She felt quite awkward herself; whenever someone looked at her, she would just give a silly smile, leaving them feeling miffed.
Waiting in boredom, her eyes constantly followed the Twelfth Prince, watching as he navigated the crowd to a spot closest to the platform. Bids were still being called on the platform, and a girl was pulled forward, measured from head to toe, "Good features and long legs, slim waist and wide hips, good for bearing children. Her hands and feet are nimble, and she’s sure to keep the bed warm... Come, come, come! Bring an ox to trade for an ox; if you have no ox, twenty taels of silver will do..." At this moment, a person was just an item; as long as the sale was final, no one cared what their purpose was.
The crowd below booed and teased, asking if she was a virgin, or if she was well-endowed. A buyer went up and swarmed around her like a fly. Once he reached the front, he grabbed the front of her shirt with both hands, tore it open with a ripping sound, and immediately buried his face inside, sniffing her armpits. As the girl shrieked, the crowd became even more excited, and the buyer grew more agitated, repeatedly saying "good." "This one is to my taste; she’s fragrant. I’m taking her; later I’ll bring an ox from my estate."
One transaction was complete, and it moved to the next. The Twelfth Prince’s ears were not ideal, and for fear of missing something amidst the chaotic noise, he dispatched his men to investigate. He stood with his hands behind his back, looking around. In the vast market, they only saw people being brought in for sale; both buyers and sellers were tight-lipped about the origins of the slaves. To find out the truth in a few words was not easy. Only when a deal was struck—and a large one at that—could he move beyond the public stage to negotiate with the leader privately. People die for wealth, after all; money is a good thing, and there was no mouth that money couldn't pry open.
He pushed through the crowd toward the back of the platform, where there was a ladder. Several dark, burly men carrying broadswords were driving the slaves. He stood for a moment and asked in a clear voice, "Who is in charge here?"
Everyone looked over, and a pockmarked man poked his neck out and asked, "This master, what business do you have with our boss?"
He answered neatly and concisely: "Asking for prices, and taking people."
A man with delicate features emerged from a shack in the back. He was about the same age as the Twelfth Prince, draped in a large wolf-skin cloak, with his hair tied back neatly. Although his skin was dark, it could not hide the air of arrogance in his eyes. Hongce looked him over; this person was intriguing. His features possessed the refinement of the Central Plains, yet his demeanor was completely at odds with his surroundings. He was, in all likelihood, a formidable opponent.