Love in Red Dust - Chapter 90
Chapter 90
The Great Army was currently stationed at Bayanwen Zhule. Having followed them for nearly ten days, Dingyi was growing closer and closer to her goal.
Traveling across Khalkha was no joke. One had to set out after the Hour of the Dragon (7–9 AM) and find a place to lodge before the middle of the Hour of the Monkey (3–5 PM). Night fell early here, and once it was fully dark, the frozen, snow-covered landscape became impossible to traverse. Everyone was wrapped in heavy furs; old cotton-padded coats were not breathable and would freeze solid if worn for too long. Once inside Mongolian territory, one had to wear fur robes and leather boots. Dingyi had altered her robe to be a bit shorter, but the cold air would draft underneath. She took the opportunity while staying the night to make some adjustments so she could continue her journey tomorrow.
Just as she sat down, someone called her from the doorway, "Little brother, come here, come here!"
She tightened her belt and went out. At a glance, she saw it was the geshiha (guard) who delivered the charcoal braziers. She bowed at the waist, "Would you like me to help you?"
The man laughed, "It’s so much easier talking to a sensible person. The Master is inside discussing matters with someone, and since the weather is too cold, he wants another stove. In this godforsaken place, we’ve even used up the washbasins; there aren't any left, so we found this large vat. I can't lift it alone; give me a hand."
She said "Yes," took a piece of coarse cloth to pad the mouth of the vat, and together they hauled it to the door of the Thirteenth Prince's quarters.
Looking inside, she saw the Thirteenth Prince curled up, warming his hands over the charcoal brazier. He flipped his hands back and forth over the heat, asking in a calm, steady tone, "Is there any news from the Setsen Khan Tribe?"
A lieutenant below replied, "Rest assured, Master, the silver will not have been spent in vain. Kou Ming has made a connection and is currently gathering evidence..."
Dingyi caught glimpses of the conversation; it sounded as though they were spending money to bribe people within the Setsen Khan Tribe to uncover inside information. She naturally believed in the Twelfth Master’s integrity and upright heart, but the human heart is like a hidden valley; she did not know the true depth of the relationship between this Thirteenth Prince and the Twelfth Master. This was a critical moment where life and death rested entirely in the hands of others; if there was even the slightest bias, the Twelfth Master would truly be finished.
It was a pity that delivering the coal could not be delayed. Once finished, she had to leave. She withdrew with the other guard, but unexpectedly, after only two steps, the Thirteenth Prince began to cough, shielding his mouth and nose. He pointed at her and said, "Why is there such a smell of smoke? Go, poke the coals and let the air circulate." Turning to the lieutenant, he added, "I estimate we will link up with the main army in three days; tell that side to speed things up. If things are truly as... we must change the commander as soon as possible. This game of chess is too large, and the imperial court has placed great expectations upon us; we cannot let it be ruined by one man."
Dingyi’s heart thundered in her chest, and her hands moved slowly with the fire tongs. She heard the lieutenant hesitate, "Master, do you believe this matter is true?"
"It is hard to say," the Thirteenth Prince replied. "I am entrusted with an imperial order and must act with strict impartiality. If it is false, I will naturally restore his justice. If it is true, then I must act according to the orders from above; even if it is a biological brother, I cannot favor personal ties."
She could not linger any longer for fear of arousing suspicion. She set down the fire iron and withdrew with her hands hanging at her sides. Outside the door, she was still trembling—not from the cold, but because her heart was burning with anxiety. She had no idea what the news from the Setsen Khan Tribe actually was. Bayanwen Zhule was two hundred miles away; if she could give the Twelfth Master a warning in advance, it might allow him to prepare early. But the temperature here was truly too low; even if she could endure it, her horse would not be able to travel through the night.
Her mind was a whirlwind of distress. As she stood under the eaves, stunned, Bodun returned from outside. He shook the snow from his shoulders and spat, "You take a piss and it turns into an icicle before it hits the ground. This hellhole is truly not a place for humans." He looked up at her, "Why haven't you gone to rest yet?"
She said, "I just finished delivering the charcoal brazier for the Master and was about to head back. Lord Bodun, how much longer do we have to travel?"
Bodun said, "If there isn't a blizzard, three days. If there are further changes, ten days might not even be enough."
She sighed and murmured, "If we drag it out this long, the Master’s mission will be delayed."
Bodun laughed, "You’re quite a diligent lad, the Master didn't save you for nothing. Don't worry, that mission is being handled behind the scenes; a few days earlier or later won't make much difference."
She gave a stiff reply, afraid of letting her secret slip, and dared not say more. Back in her room, she tossed and turned, thinking: Is the Twelfth Master the type of person who would choose to live in dishonor? If the court wants to harm him, would he listen if she told him to leave it all behind, to flee to the Western Regions? He had his own pride; as an Imperial Prince, he would likely prefer death over living with such a lack of dignity. Therefore, she had to save his life; as long as he was alive, there was hope. The wine with gold dust was not served a second time; she had never seen a prisoner on the execution grounds who, if the first blade didn't finish him, was struck a second time. There was no evidence to be found in the laws, but there was this unspoken rule in the criminal justice system. If the Emperor wanted to be known as a benevolent monarch, he would not ruin his reputation over this.
She lay on her back, her thumb slowly stroking the smooth, glossy spine of a rhinoceros horn comb. She had originally intended to beg the Thirteenth Prince, but since she had not yet discerned his true stance, she absolutely could not act rashly. Perhaps she should wait—it would not be too late to wait until they reached the base camp.
Heaven was somewhat merciful. The snow stopped over the next few days, and the sun even came out. She followed the group as they raced forward. After crossing a range of hills, she saw from afar that large and small tents were guarding a central Royal Tent, spanning a radius of several miles; the Twelfth Master’s army was right there.
It had been over a year; she wondered what he looked like now. He should still be the person from her memories! As for herself, living out in the open, she was a wreck. She wiped her face with her hand; the fine cracks on her cheekbones had scabbed over and felt rough to the touch. As they reached the front of the camp, the cavalry squad slowed down. She quietly adjusted her collar and pulled her scarf up a little higher.
People came out to greet them from the camp gate—soldiers engaged in war, all carrying swords. With every step they took, the copper rivets on their armor clanged together. The man in the lead wore soft armor with a dragon descending pattern and tiger-head knee guards, standing against the rising sun. The sunlight bathed his warm, gentle features; there was no sharpness in his expression, yet it caused Dingyi’s vision to blur.
He cupped his hands from afar, "Thirteenth Brother, you have traveled a long distance; you have had a hard journey."
The voice came from quite a distance, but she heard it clearly. Having missed him and thought of him for so long, now that they were face-to-face, she could not figure out how to face him. She felt ashamed and could only watch him secretly from behind a wall of people. He looked a bit darker and more heroic than he did in the capital, and his spirit appeared to be in good shape. But she knew the Thirteenth Prince carried secret orders; he had not yet realized that the court had moved to kill him. Now that he was within arm’s reach, it was a dilemma for her whether to tell him the truth. She had to see him, and she absolutely had to warn him. He was a smart man; perhaps he would be able to sense something from his conversation with the Thirteenth Prince!
It was not the right time to be impatient. She watched as the two brothers entered the main tent, and she followed the guards into the barracks. Someone in the military brought armor; everyone put it on, and she adjusted the chest guard on her breast, pretending to be drying her clothes while watching from outside the tent. There were guards around the Royal Tent, and it was very difficult for unauthorized persons to get close. She had to find a way to get to the people around him—whether it was Guan Zhaojing or Ha Gangdaiqin, as long as there was someone she knew who could smooth the way, she could get inside to report the news.
They had important matters to discuss, and it lasted until the sky darkened before the Thirteenth Prince finally came out. People were waiting outside, leading him to his own tent with hunched shoulders and lowered heads.
She hadn't wasted her time earlier; she had inquired about Guan Zhaojing’s quarters and slipped over while the army was busy cooking their meals. Unfortunately, she didn't run into him and had to wait outside, rubbing her hands.
Camp patrols moved to and fro, torches raised as they wandered the world, one squad following another. She turned her back, trying to stay out of sight, afraid that a stranger would get caught and cause a scene. But the more she avoided attention, the more suspicious she appeared. Sure enough, a loud voice shouted, "Which banner is this? Why are you skulking about?"
A torch was thrust forward, waving before her eyes, dazzling her with spots of light. She lifted her arm to block it and offered a flattering smile, "I came with the Thirteenth Prince; I have some business with Chief Guan."
"Is this a place for you to come and chat? You’re walking around in a restricted military area; do you know that if you’re caught, you’ll get thirty lashes?" The leader tilted his chin, "Arrest him, and tell his regimental commander to come and take him."
She was startled; her arms were seized. Her pleas and polite words were useless; they wouldn't buy it. Just as they were dragging her away, someone behind them barked, "What’s this? Is talking to me considered just 'chatting'? Is this you looking down on him, or looking down on me?"
Dingyi felt a surge of joy; it was Guan Zhaojing. She had finally waited for him.
Since entering the army, Guan Zhaojing looked thinner and darker, his neck stretched out like a crow. He swept a glance at her, not paying much attention at first, but as his gaze passed over her, he suddenly realized who it was. He stared with his small eyes, sizing her up again, and was so shocked he couldn't close his mouth for a long time, "This... isn't this... Prin... Prin..."
Dingyi gave him a respectful bow, "Greetings, Master Guan."
He accepted the salute, leaving him unsure whether to advance or retreat, and since he couldn't blow her cover, he cleared his throat and said, "Rise!" Turning to the patrol, he said, "Why are you still standing there? Why don't you go into my tent for a couple cups of tea?"
The men quickly said they dared not and regrouped to march far away.
Guan Zhaojing nearly knelt down, "My Princess, why have you come here?"
"Anda..." She choked back a sob, "Where is the Twelfth Master? I want to see him."
Guan Zhaojing hurriedly led the way, constantly looking back and rambling, "This servant never imagined you would come. Heavens, it’s several thousand miles away! How did you make this journey? You are truly alarming; you really fear nothing. You are a heroine among women..." While speaking, he asked her to wait a moment, lifted the tent curtain to peek inside, and saw the Prince writing a memorial at his desk with no one else around. He signaled for her to enter.
Her leather boots stepped silently on the felt mat. She walked over, and he didn't notice, burying himself in writing rapidly at his desk. She approached and looked at him; the firelight seemed dim and somewhat unreal. It was the same features from her memories, but they had been apart for too long, and she dared not be certain. Was this her Hongce? Was this still the man sitting in the cool pavilion asking to read her palm?
He was long accustomed to being served, so he paid no attention to who stood nearby. Seeing the ink in the stone was running low, he tapped the tip of his brush, "Grind more ink."
She heard him and hurriedly stepped forward to take the ink block. She scooped two spoonfuls of water into the inkstone and began to grind it meticulously. She watched as he traced characters under his brush, writing word for word: Prince Chun of the First Rank, Hongce, and others, respectfully wish the Holy Master eternal peace... Her heart ached; he was here submitting a greeting memorial to the one who was plotting behind his back on how to order his death.
Without noticing, a tear dropped onto the official document, slowly bleeding and expanding into an alluring, bewitching flower. The tip of his brush paused. His gaze moved from the tear to the hand grinding the ink—every joint had split, the wounds unhealed, with faint traces of blood.
Even if she were battered and changed, she remained the familiar presence etched into his heart. He stood up abruptly and looked at her in amazement, "Dingyi... am I dreaming?"
Her eyes and nose were a mess from crying, but she sobbed, trying to keep up appearances, "I grew tired of staying in the capital and wanted to come out for a walk. I was just wandering blindly, and after walking and walking, I arrived here. I remembered you, so I dropped by to see you."
He was completely taken aback. This girl had always been courageous, but he never imagined she would appear here. He looked her up and down; she had suffered too much on this journey, her face and hands all chapped. A girl who was once perfectly beautiful had suddenly become like this...
His heart ached unbearably. Since she could cross such a great distance, there should no longer be any obstacles between them! He reached out to touch her face, his voice trembling, "Have you forgiven me?" His eyes gradually reddened, "Are you still holding a grudge against me because of the incident with Rujian?"
He had forgotten everything. He had left the capital in fury for no other reason than because he thought she had harmed their child. In truth, he never remembered her faults; he had always taken the blame upon himself, indulging her, pampering her, and raising her to only know how to take without knowing how to give back.
She felt she had no face to see him; nothing she could say would be enough to compensate for the harm she had caused him. She knelt down, as if this was the only way to make herself feel a little better.
"You were never wrong; the one who has always been wrong is me." She hugged his legs and looked up, crying, "It is I who did not know how to cherish our blessings, trapped in a fortress of sorrow and unable to escape. I have always only cared about my own feelings, causing you to suffer such injustices. Now that I know I was wrong, is it too late?"
He tried to help her up, but she wouldn't move, so he knelt down face-to-face with her. He wiped away her tears, choking with sobs, "Don't cry; the cracks on your face will hurt... Please don't cry; how can you bear to see me like this! I have never blamed you. Perhaps I hated you for a moment, but as soon as I left Beijing, I regretted it. I shouldn't have left without saying goodbye; I shouldn't have left you to be heartbroken during your postpartum recovery..."
She shook her head, "I don't blame you; it was my own doing. I know that if I had missed you, I would have regretted it for the rest of my life. There is no one else in this world as good as you."
She nestled into his embrace. His armor was icy cold, but she felt a warmth in her heart. She had always been afraid that he would not forgive her. In this whirlwind life, he was the one who had been the most exhausted. He owed no one anything, yet he was the one under pressure, and he was the one who had suffered the grievances. Why? All because he loved her.