Love in Red Dust - Chapter 64
Chapter 64
Leaving one's native home—to say it is easy is easy, to say it is difficult, it is difficult.
Datong Prefecture was the place where the Wen family had resided for generations; their ancestors had all served in the local government. Later, because Wen Lu had made significant contributions in the region, he was transferred to the capital at the age of thirty. Dingyi was born after that, and her sense of "hometown" and "homesickness" remained merely on the surface, without any deeply ingrained, visceral feelings. For her, one could survive anywhere; whether one lived well was secondary, but there was a significant difference in one's state of mind.
People came and went on the street; she sat sideways inside the threshold, combing hair for others. She dipped a peach-wood comb into the bowl of hair oil, the teeth of the comb glowing with a deep luster. She combed from root to tip, winding the hair into a lingering, coiled bun, securing it with a hairpin and adorning it with a piece of kingfisher-feather inlay the size of a fingernail, and the hairstyle was complete.
She smiled and handed over a hand-mirror for the customer to see. "When combing, the comb shouldn't press against the scalp; if it's pressed too tightly, the hair will appear sparse." She pulled up a lock of her own hair to demonstrate. "It should be like this—loosely gathered, styling it back bit by bit. This technique is the most fashionable in the capital; it creates volume so that one doesn't feel like they lack hair density."
The customer tried it according to her instructions, looked in the mirror from front to back, and laughed, "The young mistress has such skilled hands! We common folk can't afford to hire a professional hairdresser, so every hairstyle depends on our own tinkering. My hands are clumsy, and I can't comb it well. I use too much oil, so it looks like I just fished it out of water every day. The pillowcase on the bed has to be washed every other day—it's laughable to even say it."
She offered a few perfunctory words, turned to pack the selected bottles, jars, and combs into a bundle, and placed it in the customer's vegetable basket. "When you run out, come back again. My oil is made fresh, and it won't spoil even if kept for a year or two."
The customer nodded and looked at her. Her own dark, thick hair draped behind her back, tied only halfway down with a ribbon. She couldn't help but wonder: with such great skill, why didn't she comb her own hair? There were many beautiful hairstyles now; she worked in this trade, so why couldn't she manage her own appearance?
"It would look good if you combed a large braid or a 'baba' bun, young mistress. I often see you combing for others, so what about yourself? Is it not convenient to comb your own?"
She was just tidying up the items on the table, and hearing this, her hands paused. She turned her head to look at the rising sun above the opposite storefront, a dazed, faint smile climbing to the corners of her eyes. She said, "I have my own hairdresser. He said he would learn many hairstyles and comb my hair slowly in the future."
The customer did not quite understand where this hairdresser had gone; she had never seen him since the young mistress opened her shop here. Keeping a hairdresser who let the owner go about with disheveled hair only proved that the young mistress had great patience.
After the customer left, the shop became quiet for a moment. Dingyi put everything away piece by piece and turned to sit on the ta (daybed). The sun climbed higher and higher, and a faint fragrance lingered in the room, though it was not a pure scent—it always carried a sticky, cloying quality, and she could not distinguish its source. She actually liked this scent; she had liked it ever since the Twelfth Prince gave her that hair oil. And there was that rhinoceros-horn comb, which she had carried with her ever since, never daring to forget.
She thought that there must be many men in the world who gave small trinkets to their beloved girls, like tassels, rouge, or hairpins... That was why she had opened a shop, nestled between a bookstore and an antique shop. It was a tiny place, only ten square feet in total, specializing in items for girls. Sometimes she sold hair oil, and women who couldn't style their hair well would come to her for advice. In truth, she had only been a girl for a little over half a year and hadn't mastered any techniques, so she had no choice but to learn from others and then pass it on to them. She only knew how to comb hair for others. She herself had thought: if she ever met the Twelfth Prince again, she would put her hair up, since she was no longer a "girl" anyway. If she couldn't meet him again, she would just live like this for the rest of her life—without the person who combed her hair, what else was there to wish for?
Shanxi was not actually far from Beijing. Gazing into the distance to the east, her mind spontaneously sketched a scene: the Dengkoushijie street and that vast expanse of water at Houhai. She was familiar with that place; she had struggled to survive there, and she had met the man of her destiny there. It was a pity she didn't know if she could ever return. The passages out of the pass were cut off, and they were forced to move through many places. It was not easy to resist the government; after hiding for a long time, it was difficult to leave the Great Qing. In the end, out of helplessness, Rujian said they should return to Datong. Their roots were there; even if some disaster occurred, they wouldn't feel regret.
This decision was not wrong; it was relatively peaceful here. Rujian’s mind was sharp, and he had gone into the coal business with others. She herself had nothing to do and would just let her imagination run wild, so she opened a shop to pass the time.
The siblings were each busy with their own affairs, living in peace. It was just that sometimes, when she missed Hongce unbearably, Dingyi would feel resentment—resentment that Third Brother’s interference had ruined her marriage. It was too rare to meet someone you truly loved in a lifetime; if you missed it, you might never find it again. She had nothing left but the memories of that night, which were full of bitterness whenever she thought of them.
She wondered how he was now. Was he missing her too? Sometimes she was confident, feeling she was one of a kind, but most of the time she was lost and anxious. She was still afraid he would marry. Regardless of whether he wanted to in his heart, the imperial decree was difficult to defy, and he was powerless. So, she decided not to think about it. At first, she would ask about the situation in the capital, but later, it gradually faded. She also hoped she could retreat from it all; being so tangled up for a lifetime was no way to live.
She calmed her heart and made a few more sales. By midday, Rujian came to find her. This was the one good thing: no matter how busy they were or how much silver passed through their hands, Rujian would eat every meal with her. Even if they called for two bowls of noodles and a pastry from the neighboring shop, they would eat and talk at the same time.
He picked out the large piece of meat from his bowl and gave it to her. "I saw Master Pang today. We’ve secured the mountain north of here. That is a place of excellent feng shui; relying on it will be enough to live on in the future."
Dingyi gave an "um." "The Master is selling mountains—is he not afraid of higher-ups questioning him?"
Rujian said, "Without the Prefect's nod, he wouldn't dare. This place is poor, and the annual 'integrity allowance' given by the imperial court isn't even enough to fill the gaps in their teeth. When they encounter an opportunity to make money, their eyes turn red with greed, and they grab whatever they can, worrying about the consequences only after something goes wrong." Seeing that she was afraid of exposure, he hurriedly added, "Don't worry, I had others use their names; even an investigation won't lead back to us. How are things here? There are many people coming and going; I fear it isn't good for you to continue like this. You’re at the right age, and Third Brother has found someone for you. He comes from a prominent family, and his character is passable. Let’s get it done before the cold weather sets in this year!"
He tried to keep his tone light, but Dingyi was still shocked. "Given our current situation, Third Brother wants me to marry?"
"A woman must have a nest. I’m afraid of delaying you; in case I fail one day, at least there will be someone to take care of you." Rujian put down his chopsticks, glanced at her, and frowned. "I know your thoughts. Some fates cannot be forced; when it’s time to look forward, don’t look back. The family I mentioned is not in officialdom. Our two families are old friends, which saves a lot of trouble. You won't suffer if you marry into that family. Once I see you settled, my heart will be at ease. Later, I can focus entirely on making money; with a strong maternal family, you will have more standing in your husband's house, and no one will dare to bully you."
Dingyi listened, sitting with her hands folded, her heart filled with gloom. "I suppose that family has already seen me in secret?"
Rujian said yes. "You insisted on opening a shop, greeting and seeing off people—it’s not difficult for others to see you."
According to her own wishes, opening the shop meant she wouldn't marry again in this life; otherwise, for a decent girl—and a Han Chinese at that—there was no reason to be out in public. But even so, she couldn't escape being arranged. She was unhappy and put down her chopsticks. "Why bother harming others? Even if I married, I couldn't be wholehearted about living together. Does Third Brother think I am a burden? It has only been half a year since we siblings reunited, and you are already in such a hurry to marry me off. If that were the case, it would have been better to stay by the Twelfth Prince's side back then. Third Brother, I followed you out of sibling affection, not to find a place to marry."
Rujian was stunned by her words. "I asked you to marry for your own good; why say such things? We were born to the same parents; I couldn't despise you, not even if I despised myself. Fine, if you don't want to, I won't force you. I can still afford to support one sister. Eat your meal; consider what I just said as unsaid. I will find a way to decline it later."
Dingyi had no appetite left. She was already a fugitive, arriving in a new place, agreeing to a marriage, and then declining it—what if the other party held a grudge? Sometimes she felt Rujian was good at cutting people with a soft blade; saying "it’s all up to you" while clearly pushing her to a point of no return. Yet, this time, she could not compromise. Marrying someone else would be failing the Twelfth Prince. She was the kind of person who would rather others mistreat her than ever owe anything to someone else.
"Have you investigated our family's case later on? Are they still investigating?"
Rujian said, "The imperial court has ordered the investigation to stop. Let it end here. Perhaps the Emperor felt the matter had no leads and that continuing would be a waste of effort. The Twelfth Prince has stopped his hands and is hiding in his Prince's mansion, never stepping out. This is also fine; there is no hope of overturning the case anyway. Let the matter settle quickly; once the fervor passes, there will be no need to keep hiding."
After that, they each had their own preoccupations. After the meal, Rujian went out to handle business again. Dingyi felt hollow, standing in front of the window in a daze. That the case was no longer being investigated was not good news for her; the only tie she had to him was gone. Slowly, he would forget her, right? Before they parted, she said she hoped he would forget her, but those were all lies. She clearly wanted him to remember her for a lifetime, never to marry anyone else, but she couldn't be that selfish. She hadn't even left him a single word. She didn't know what he was thinking; for all she knew, he might be gritting his teeth in hatred of her right now.
She sighed endlessly, from spring to autumn, and with winter approaching, it would probably be like this forever!
The sun moved gradually, and by noon, there were few pedestrians on the street. It was already a quiet little market, and there wouldn't be any business until the Shen hour (3:00-5:00 PM). Dingyi was used to closing the shop at noon; she didn't rely on this shop to make a fortune, so she had no heavy pressure and lived a relatively free and easy life.
She went to the door to move the wooden panels—each one a foot wide and as tall as a person. Although the storefront wasn't large, she had to patiently insert over a dozen of them. As she held the last one, she glanced outside and saw a person standing under the eaves of the opposite shop. He was dressed in a neat long robe with a red ribbon tied around his waist, and he was looking right at her. Her heart skipped a beat. A red ribbon was used by the collateral branches of the imperial family to display their status. Since the generation of the founding Emperor, the main line was called the "Imperial Clan" and wore yellow ribbons, while the descendants of the founding Emperor’s uncles and brothers were called "Gioro," belonging to relatives of the imperial family who were not of the main line, and they wore red ribbons. Why would a "red ribbon" come to such a small place? Surely nothing was going to happen! Panicked, she hurriedly inserted the last panel.
Now she couldn't sleep. She sat quietly in the room for a while, but fortunately, the person left later, and there was no further movement for a long time. She breathed a sigh of relief—it was probably a coincidence! But she secretly hoped that if it were the Twelfth Prince who had come looking, how wonderful that would be. She missed him too much. They had been separated for nine months; sometimes, in her dreams, she saw him with his back to her, and she was afraid that if more time passed, she would forget what he looked like.
She had no heart to tend the shop in the afternoon and, dragging it out until the end of the Shen hour, she closed the shop and went back.
They had rented a house in an alley. It wasn't particularly grand—an ordinary house, roughly in the style of a Beijing siheyuan, a single-family house located in the deepest part of the alley. As for the neighbors, they would nod to greet each other when they met, but they didn't get too close, keeping their acquaintance superficial.
When she returned this day, she saw people moving about in front of the house next door. That house had been left empty for a while, as the owner had gone out of town for business, leaving the clan members to take care of it. They had originally wanted to buy that one, but it was too large—it felt too spacious for the four of them (the siblings plus Rujian’s two servants)—so they changed to the current one. Seeing people coming and going now, she guessed it had been sold and they had new neighbors.
She stood watching for a while just for the sake of it. The young wife from across the street came out carrying a basin, stood on the brick ledge, and greeted her, "I heard they are from your old home—also from the capital."
She was a bit surprised and responded casually, "That’s great; we’ll be able to visit each other in the future." She didn't linger and went back inside with a smile.
They ate out at noon and cooked their own dinner at night. She was in the kitchen cutting vegetables, deng-deng-deng, and smashing garlic for a cold cucumber dish. Arriving in Datong, her taste remained that of Beijing, and she liked making things like braised eggplant. Their kitchen stove wasn't very good; the original owner, for convenience, had dug a hole in the wall without installing a chimney, so wherever the wind blew, the smoke followed. Every time they cooked, the whole place was filled with the smoke of everyday life! This day, the southern wind blew, and the smoke poured entirely into the northern room of the new neighbors. Dingyi stood in the kitchen and listened; before long, thunderous coughing came from the other side of the wall. She wiped her face, feeling guilty and sticking out her tongue.
Later, she didn't dare to cook too many dishes. After finishing, she planned to go to a blacksmith shop the next day to get a curved pipe. She spent that night trembling, worried that the northern house would come knocking on the door to reason with her. Fortunately, the neighbor’s self-restraint was quite good; there was no movement for two days, and the matter faded from her memory.
Life continued at its own slow pace. Dingyi opened the shop at the appointed time every day, no different from the past. It was just that sometimes, when she came back, she would see two fish or a bunch of amaranth hanging on the door knocker. She thought Rujian had dropped them off while passing by without time to come in, so she didn't ask in detail. Later, the vegetables turned into flowers—woven into a ring, or placed in a water-filled ceramic jar with a dangling rose—and she felt something was wrong. Perhaps it was the "good brother-in-law candidate" Rujian had taken a liking to, offering small gifts to try to get close to her.
She wasn't very happy; when she saw them again, she didn't bring them in, just leaving them by the door. Strange to say, she recently felt as if someone was secretly spying on her. She carefully paid attention to her surroundings but found nothing amiss, and she didn't know where this feeling came from. It wasn't until one day, while planting scallions against the wall, that she discovered a probe-hole the size of a cup hidden behind a loofah trellis, and she realized all the suspicion stemmed from the new neighbors next door. She was furious and wanted to go over to ask for an explanation, but she was worried they would just act ignorant. After all, with no evidence, who would admit to peeking? She thought about it and found a piece of rag to plug the hole. It had been clear before, but suddenly it was pitch black—was it like being slapped in the face? After plugging it, she felt settled, cooking and watering flowers until the lamps were lit.
Rujian was late returning today. She was bored and remembered the hole again. It was a flash of inspiration: if others could watch her, why couldn't she watch back? She wanted to see what kind of "sacred" person it was and who was in their house.
She went over, cautiously edged to the spot, and reached out to pluck the rag plug. She put her eye to it.
The other side was quite ordinary: a three-bay black-tiled house with four pillars in front of the door, and hanging ox-tendon decorations under the eaves. Two long-term servants stood guard in front of the main room, so it must be a family with some background. Since they had a background, why did they engage in peeping? This habit was truly unacceptable! She pondered to herself, wondering if she was overthinking it. Perhaps it was just that the bricks were decaying over time, and it wasn't that someone really wanted to spy on her. Thinking of this, what she was doing now was quite dishonorable. She should just pull her head back; since they hadn't really done anything, it was she who had the mind of a petty person.
Just as she was planning to withdraw, a piece of clothing drifted into her limited field of vision: a sky-blue satin with precious flower patterns, clear enough that even the textures were visible. She was shocked and didn't have time to react. The precious flower pattern disappeared, and the lamp light from under the eaves shone over, illuminating a section of a temple. Dingyi was so startled she almost screamed: the person on the other side, separated by a wall, was looking directly into her eyes.