Love in Red Dust - Chapter 87
Chapter 87
He entered the palace in the dead of night, having already formed his plan. He requested the imperial decree to go to Khalkha, unwilling to spend even a single day more in the capital.
The Emperor naturally granted his request. The pacification of Outer Mongolia was inevitable; the troops, horses, and provisions were already fully equipped, needing only a formidable commander to set out. As to who that commander would be, no candidate had been finalized, but one could not think of anyone other than Hongce. In the words of the pillars of the court, the Prince of Chuan had managed Khalkha for over a decade and had a thorough understanding of everything in the region. There was no need to look further; the time had come for the Prince of Chuan to serve the imperial court once more.
Hongce had long since seen through the Emperor’s intentions. The only reason a decree hadn't been issued immediately was the very fact that he had been stationed in Ulaanbaatar for so many years. Logically speaking, he was a man with a semi-disabled body; if the Emperor were to appoint anyone, it shouldn't have been him. Thus, the Emperor had waited and observed, watching for him to request the command himself, which would allow the Emperor to fulfill the virtues of grace and righteousness. The Emperor could embody the principles of Heaven, while the Prince of Chuan could demonstrate his unwavering loyalty to the nation; both would gain a favorable reputation.
Sooner or later, he had to leave; it was merely a question of whether it was sooner or later. Stiffening his resolve, he spent the night mobilizing his troops, leading thirty thousand men out of the capital to rendezvous with the frontier garrisons at Uliastai. Since the Emperor had made preparations, there was no need to worry about the rear. He accepted his command, and at dawn the next day, he led his troops northward.
Just past the fifth watch, as the sky was barely beginning to brighten, Dingyi lay dazed against the head of the kang. She vaguely heard the thunder of cannons, which shook the house and made it tremble. Her sleep had already been incredibly light, and now that she was jolted awake, her mind raced, recalling the events of the previous night—the lines between truth and illusion blurring, as if she had fallen into a dream.
Unable to sleep soundly, she propped herself up and called for Bao’er. However, it was Sha Tong who entered.
"Master is awake? How are you feeling right now?" Sha Tong moved closer to drape a warm padded coat over her shoulders. "Since the imperial physician was not permitted to see you yesterday, the servants brewed some medicine to nourish your qi and replenish your blood. I have had them bring it to you. A 'small confinement' is even more damaging to the body than a full one; please rest well and do not get out of bed."
She shook her head, gesturing for him to set the medicine aside. "What was that commotion just now? Where are they firing cannons?"
Sha Tong stood by the candlelight, his eyes brimming with tears. "The imperial court is mobilizing troops to assist the Khan of Khalkha in suppressing the rebellion. The General-in-Chief set out on his campaign this morning; those were the farewell cannons. I should have accompanied him to serve, but the Twelfth Master said you could not be left without someone to attend to you, and ordered me to stay behind..."
She sat there, wooden and still, as the blood in her veins seemed to freeze. "Is the General-in-Chief tasked with this imperial expedition the Twelfth Master?"
Sha Tong nodded. Several times he almost blurted out the truth, but seeing she was still ill, he refrained from saying that the Twelfth Master had been so deeply provoked that he had gone to the palace himself to beg for the decree.
Yet, even without him saying it, Dingyi understood. He had been driven away by her anger; he had left without saying a word of farewell, heading toward the distant Mongolian north. It seemed as though he had been rushing about for over a decade, and the paths he had walked were ones that many people would not finish in a lifetime.
Outside, the sky had yet to brighten. The oil lamp illuminated half the room, casting the hollows of table edges and cabinet corners into pitch-black shadows, while the raised surfaces were gilded with a rim of gold.
She leaned against her pillow, wanting to cry but unable to shed a tear. I brought this upon myself! It would be fine if she were to die, but she must not drag him into her ruin. She asked Sha Tong, "Who else is accompanying him?"
Sha Tong replied, "The Emperor has dispatched a Grand Secretary of the Cabinet, a Secretary from the Grand Council, and a Colonel of the Gendarmerie to assist the Twelfth Master. Master, you need not worry; those men are all veterans of many battles and will be excellent helpers for the Twelfth Master. I am simply miserable; I have accompanied the Twelfth Master through his ten years in Khalkha, but this time he did not bring me. I... I feel like a stray dog."
She slumped back against the pillow. "It is because of me; I made him incredibly angry yesterday."
Sha Tong looked up, opening his mouth, but after thinking it over, he decided to comfort her, saying it was not because of that. "The Twelfth Master’s mother was a princess of the Sain Noyan Khan tribe. The fate of the princes is closely tied to their maternal families. If something happens to that family, if you do not step up to manage the aftermath, who will? Khalkha is like a patch of thorns that has snagged onto the Twelfth Master; if they are quiet for a couple of days, the Twelfth Master can rest in the capital, but the moment there is the slightest disturbance there, the Twelfth Master is the first to stand on the front lines. So, regardless of whether you and the Twelfth Master are having a dispute, he would still have to go to Khalkha. For now, do not worry about anything else; just nursing your health well is the greatest kindness you can show the Twelfth Master."
She could tell that Sha Tong actually resented her. Servants dote on their masters, and he had seen the way the Twelfth Master had been rebuffed by her over these past few days. Perhaps in others' eyes, she was simply throwing away a good life and causing trouble for no reason. Even if her family were to die one by one, because Hongce was innocent, she should still have married into the Yuwen family.
It sounded easy, but what kind of immense strength of heart would that require?
She loved Hongce; that had never changed. It was just that, in the end, it was impossible for them to be together because the circumstances did not allow it.
She lowered her head and pondered for a long time. Every blade of grass and tree here had been arranged by him. With the Prince of Chuan's mansion recalling their eunuchs and maids, she would be completely isolated here.
"Now that the Twelfth Master has gone to the northern desert, and the child is gone, I have no relationship with him whatsoever. Please ask my master to come. Have all your people withdrawn; I will move out tomorrow, and you can have someone come to reclaim the house."
Sha Tong said in a panic, "Please, do not tease me. You are in this state; where can you go? Do you not know the Twelfth Master’s character? In his heart, you are his wife. No matter how many setbacks you have encountered, or how many harsh words have been spoken, his heart will not change. He is miserable that the little master is gone; that is natural for anyone. The Twelfth Master’s kindness to you—others may not know, but I do. How can you be so hard-hearted?"
She remained unmoved. "What you just said is wrong. In truth, I am the one who is truly a stray dog."
Sha Tong was choked up, staring blankly at her. Seeing that her mind was made up and there was no other way, he had no choice but to follow orders and head to the Prince's mansion to invite Wu Changgeng.
Her master arrived, and Xiazhi naturally came along, scrutinizing her up and down. Dingyi felt a pang of guilt and averted her gaze, asking those present to step out so she could speak with her master first.
Wu Changgeng was worried about her and asked how she was feeling; she felt sheepish and vaguely answered that she was better.
Wu Changgeng nodded. "Then rest well and recover. The Prince left the capital this morning. The two of you... you have no status or title now. With the Twelfth Master setting out on a campaign, it could be a year at the least, or three to five years at the most. You must have a plan for yourself."
Dingyi said, "I have already made things clear to him. With this departure, he will no longer concern himself with me. I want to move out, but I have no ability to manage it on my own. I have five thousand taels of silver; I would like to ask Master to help me purchase a house so I can settle down."
Wu Changgeng clicked his tongue. "Why must you do this? Even if you haven't performed the wedding ceremony, you have had a child together; your lives are intertwined in a mess that cannot be cut. Now that you want to pull away, why didn't you do it sooner?"
She stammered, "It is precisely because the child is gone that it is better to make a clean break..."
"Is it really gone?" Xiazhi suddenly interjected. "The Twelfth Master left in such a hurry that I didn't get a chance to see him. I ask you—did you play some trick? Where did that chicken blood come from?"
She gasped. "What chicken blood? Are you delirious?"
"Don't try to fool me." Xiazhi turned to Wu Changgeng. "Master, she asked me for a live chicken yesterday. I ignored her, thinking she would give up, but who knew she would still succeed!" He turned back to her. "Tell me, what did you want a live chicken for? You faked a miscarriage and even slaughtered a chicken? You are something else! You’ve brought this upon yourself, driven him away in anger, and now how do you plan to end this farce?"
Wu Changgeng was utterly stunned. "This happened? Little Tree, you..." He was so angry he couldn't speak, pointing his finger at her, and it was only after a long moment that he said, "You are digging your own grave. How could you make a joke out of a child? It was clearly still there, yet you said it was gone. What will you do when it comes to term? This child is of royal blood; would you have him abandoned in the world? Master knows you are hurting, but you were too reckless in this matter."
She covered her face with her hands and said in a low voice, "To be with him, I inevitably have to deal with the Yuwen family. I am afraid; I do not want to see them. I once told him that I would rather be his concubine, and why? Just to shield my background; revealing it is not good for anyone. Later, events developed beyond my imagination, and I could not control the situation. Rujian had good intentions; he wanted to overturn the case so I could be his wife in the light, but now, look—can I still sit in that position? I also know that the Wen family’s only enemy is Prince Zhuang, but in truth, these words are just to deceive myself. Prince Zhuang is of the main branch; he has countless threads of connection to those in the imperial clan. Otherwise, once he was imprisoned, why would someone send a spirit tablet to the Twelfth Master? If I insist on being with him, he will have no foothold in the capital. What will happen then? All the bitter and arduous work will be piled onto him—he is, after all, a Prince!"
Wu Changgeng fell silent. What she said was not entirely unreasonable. A young girl, encountering such things with no one to consult, relied entirely on her own conjectures. Sometimes, when one gets into a dead end, one simply acts according to one's own way of thinking. In this world, it is hard to judge right from wrong; it is merely a matter of differing perspectives.
"Since you have made up your mind, then move out as soon as possible! Staying here won't work. When the Imperial Clan Court comes to investigate the child, the Twelfth Master will not be here, and you will have no way to defend yourself." He pondered for a moment and added, "But you must understand clearly: it is easy to leave, but once you go, you will never be able to enter the Prince of Chuan’s mansion again in this lifetime. From now on, whatever wife the Twelfth Master marries or children he has will have nothing to do with you. Can you endure that?"
Hearing this, she began to cry, sobbing, "I know. I am simply a person without fortune, and having missed out on such a wonderful man, there is no future to speak of. I have made up my mind—I will be like Hailan, and I will not look for anyone else in this life. I will raise the child well, and I will not even dream of having him acknowledged by the clan; being a commoner is not a bad thing. As for the Twelfth Master marrying and having children—that is as it should be. He deserves a good girl with a better background who can support him."
Having reached this point, no one could help her. Wu Changgeng sighed and pulled Xiazhi away with him.
To find a house—truthfully, it was not that easy. To find one with a reasonable price and a home that felt right—where could one find that at a moment's notice? Dingyi was pressing them urgently, and there was no other way but to have everyone scour the alleyways to inquire. They looked at several properties, but none were satisfactory. As the sun was about to set, they thought they would go back first and continue looking tomorrow. Unexpectedly, as soon as they arrived at the Prince's mansion, Lu Shenchen from the steward's office stopped them.
"No need to look anymore. Just now, the Sixth Prince sent word that our Master entrusted him to redeem the Wen family’s old courtyard a few days ago. The current owner is a bondservant under his banner; it was just a matter of a single word, and it’s done." Lu Shenchen handed him a large ring of keys. "The house has been vacated. The previous tenant was Heng Tai, a Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue; the house has been well-maintained, and there is no need to worry about wind or rain. You can move in as soon as you arrive."
Wu Changgeng held the keys, murmuring, "The Prince's kindness of heart..."
Lu Shenchen shook his head. "Why go through such trouble to get the old house back? Firstly, it is to set the Princess's mind at ease; the Prince is a kind man. Secondly, I suspect it is also because he cannot let go. If she drifts outside, and he wants to find her one day but she has vanished, he would have to turn the whole world upside down to find her. The Wen courtyard is the Princess's root; as long as the root is there, she cannot run away. The poor Twelfth Master—living to this age, and having gone through so much difficulty, how could he not be heartbroken?"
Wu Changgeng shook his head in turn. "Who is to say otherwise? It is not easy for anyone."
He delivered the keys to the Wine and Vinegar Alley. It was getting late, so he didn't go in, handing them to a young eunuch instead. The eunuch carried them to the backyard. Dingyi was still under the lamp, learning to cut cloth for a child's garment. Hearing the report from outside, she hurriedly hid the fabric.
Sha Tong brought the keys in and recounted the whole story. She said nothing, simply waving for him to leave. The keys sat on the kang table before her, feeling very foreign—they were not the original ones, after all—yet as she stared at them, her tears became uncontrollable.
It was not for the sake of regaining the old home; in truth, she did not care about those things. Things of the past, once lost, were lost; there was no need to dwell on them. If there were any regrets, it was only that Rujian had not lived to see this day. What saddened her most was Hongce. He was always like this; having agreed to let go, why did he still make such thorough arrangements for her? Just as he had said before, he was accustomed to saving her and caring for her. The more he acted this way, the more she felt she had failed him.
In the drawer of the kang cabinet lay a sheepskin map. She spread the scroll open and lay beneath the candlelight, measuring it centimeter by centimeter. She had studied this map dozens of times; the territory of Khalkha was not particularly vast, located to the north of Inner Mongolia. Passing through Inner Mongolia to the border, the distance was approximately the same as that between Beijing and Shenyang. But if one were to strike deep into the hinterland for combat, then Ulaanbaatar would be the equivalent of another Ningguta.
She had heard that Khalkha was bitterly cold. He had left in such a rush—she wondered if he had brought enough warm clothing. The army’s march would be slow, taking two or three months on the road. By then, the child would be five months along and beginning to show. She prayed that this campaign would go smoothly, that he would conquer Khalkha swiftly, and that he would return in triumph early. Though she dared not hope to see him, at least knowing he was safe would allow her to care for the child in peace.
"Your father is not just a Prince who handles official duties; he is a Great General-Prince," she said, smiling as she stroked her belly. "By the time he returns, we will likely have teeth and be able to walk. When he enters the city, Mother will take you to see him. Riding a tall horse, the one who looks the most spirited and handsome—that will be him." She counted on her fingers. "It will take seven or eight months to go and return, plus the fighting; if all goes well, he will return in two years. Two years—that is not long. But... I have already begun to miss him.”