Love in Red Dust - Epilogue

Epilogue

There is no such thing as a "coming of age" ceremony for the Qi people; once you pass your fourteenth birthday, you have reached the age where marriage can be discussed.

The great-aunt of the Qi family did not eat for free; she helped manage the household affairs. From the time Hailan learned to read, she helped with the account books. Her father managed the Emperor's treasury; it was not a high-ranking official post, but it was an incredibly lucrative position. Whenever Beijingers mentioned the Suo family, they gave a thumbs-up, and their evaluation of the household consisted of two words: "rich" and "wealthy." A government official who dealt with gold all day rarely remained untainted. After all, who wouldn't want a good life? Her father was a very cautious man who kept two sets of account books—one for public view and one kept hidden. Hailan was a bit sharper than her elder sister, Haihui; she helped her father copy the incoming funds and was responsible for managing the secret books.

People always love to compensate for what they lack. Her family was well-off and had plenty of money, but her father’s official rank wouldn't rise. He didn't dare spend money to buy a title for fear of being caught; if he failed to become a high official, he would have emptied the family treasury for nothing. Her father was open-minded, often saying that one should only hold a rank commensurate with their ability. He was a natural bookkeeper; if you gave him the post of Grand Secretary, he wouldn't know how to handle it. Since he couldn't achieve it himself, he had to pin his hopes on the next generation and marry into a family of proper officials, otherwise, he would be a warehouse manager for the rest of his life.

Power and money are forever inseparable; the wealthy seek patrons, and the powerful seek financiers. Her father had a friend in the Ministry of Revenue who, after eating at their home, saw the two sisters and suggested acting as a matchmaker. He arranged for Haihui to marry the son of the Minister of the Imperial Guard, and for Hailan, he arranged a marriage with the third son of an official in the Censorate.

The third son’s name was Rujian. Their family naming convention was quite interesting—the surname was Wen, and their names followed the order of "Wen, Liang, Gong, Jian, Rang" (Refined, Kind, Respectful, Frugal, Yielding). Unfortunately, the last character was a miscalculation; a girl was born, leaving the character "Rang" vacant. As the son of a second-rank official, he was born to be a palace guard. From childhood, he had studied and practiced martial arts with the princes, and as they grew older, they were all assigned roles. Such people were naturally destined for a smooth official career. Hailan was worried and initially strongly opposed it, fearing that if she climbed too high, she would be looked down upon for her "copper-smelling" merchant background, and she feared facing cold shoulders. But her worries were unnecessary; the two families talked happily and agreed to finalize the betrothal once Hailan’s birthday had passed.

On the day of the formal engagement, Hailan saw Rujian for the first time. He was different from what she had imagined. He was not one of those flamboyant, arrogant young masters on the street. When he stood there, his back was as straight as a sturdy pine. A man who practiced martial arts remained calm, and his eyes held a firm, steady light. He looked at people openly, and his smile was warm. But because he was only one year older than her, despite his attempts to appear mature, he slowly blushed when they brushed past each other.

Haihui was a bit envious of her. "The third son of the Wen family is truly excellent. I think he’s a wonderful person. Unlike the family I was betrothed to, whose son is fat and gluttonous; I am truly not satisfied."

Hearing this, Hailan felt a secret, tiny joy. She acted coy and said, "What is so good about him? He is just ordinary. A fat person has good fortune; once he has to manage a household and worry about things in the future, he will naturally thin down."

However, when the two marriages were placed side by side, the difference in status was obvious at a glance. Rujian was more lively than the man betrothed to Haihui. After the engagement, he came to visit every few days. In the summer, he brought fruits and ice; when the weather turned cold, he brought mutton and sea cucumber, clearly knowing how to please his future father-in-law and mother-in-law.

When he came, they would occasionally see each other. In the back garden, on the pavilion by the water, one sat and one stood, facing each other, both feeling quite shy.

A man must always be more proactive, so he gathered his courage to talk to her. "I will be accompanying the Emperor during the autumn hunt. There is a hunting ground in Chengde with plenty of game. Is there anything you would like to eat? I will bring it back for you."

She pursed her lips and smiled. "I don't want anything to eat. Bring me a little rabbit; I want to keep one."

He said he would. Later, he carried two back inside his coat, saying that one would be too lonely and two could keep each other company.

The feelings of a first love are the most beautiful. Sometimes she felt the wedding day was set too far in the future, wishing she could be with him every day. He came often, and whenever she saw him from afar, she felt her heart had found its anchor. One time, when she was copying the calligraphy of Wang Xizhi, he watched from the side, and when no one was looking, he snuck a kiss on her cheek.

There were no great waves in their relationship; their interactions were the same as anyone else's. They just couldn't see each other often; the rules before marriage had to be observed. He said, "I pass through this alley every day after work. You just stand on the balcony and look at me; seeing you once is enough for me."

Her heart felt warm, and she held his hand, whispering, "Two more months."

He teased her on purpose. "What do you mean, two more months?"

She laughed and swatted him. "In two months, the begonia flowers will bloom."

He knew she was also eagerly awaiting the wedding day. Young men and women—their feelings were truly like poetry.

And then, as he said, he would take a long detour every day after work to come to the Qin family alley. The two would gaze at each other from a distance, and even if they could only see a blurred figure, they were already content.

But one day, he broke his promise. She secretly thought he must have been delayed by something. Who would have thought that that night, she would hear from her father that the Wen family was in chaos, and the father and his three sons had all been taken into custody.

Her mind was in a complete blur at the time, and she didn't know how bad things had become. When she asked her father, he only shook his head. "It’s not good. I'm afraid they are going to fall this time." He puffed on his pipe in silence for a moment, then looked at her and said, "Put your heart away. It’s hard to say what will happen in the future. Consider yourself lucky—if this had happened after you were married, your whole life would have been ruined."

She went back to her room and cried all night. "Put my heart away"—how could she? Haihui came to comfort her, and she leaned against her sister, saying, "I want to wait for him to come out. I have him in my heart. If this engagement is broken, I don't intend to marry anyone else."

She always felt there was room for change. Who would have thought that the court would pass down a judgment: his father was sentenced to execution pending review, and the three sons were to be exiled to the Changbai Mountains. This news was a bolt from the blue for her. She wanted to see him, to send him off, but her father bolted the door and wouldn't let her out. This regret would forever haunt her heart. She was a pampered daughter with a stubborn temper; the more they opposed her, the more she obsessed, and this obsession lasted for over a decade.

More than ten years passed in a haze. Changes occurred in the family; Haihui was gone, having passed away quietly from illness. Her parents had only two daughters, and for one to die and the other to refuse to marry was a heavy blow to them.

The Suo family was wealthy, and now only one child remained. Suitors almost wore out the threshold. She was dead set on her ways; she drove away anyone who brought up marriage. She refused to marry. Her mother cried and said, "You cannot go on like this. You don't feel it now, but you will surely regret it when you are old."

She refused to listen. "Regretting it is my own affair; I am willing. If you force me again, I will jump into the well!" People are like that; the ones closest to us sometimes cause the deepest harm. She blamed herself, too. She was a selfish person who didn't consider her parents' feelings, bringing them endless pain.

She was obsessed, holding on to one thought from the age of fourteen until she was twenty-seven.

Thirteen years—she waited until she almost forgot who she was. But one day, a young girl came, accompanied by the steward of Prince Chun’s mansion, sitting upright in the main hall. When she went in to pay her respects, she was a bit dazed; there was something familiar about the girl's features, something that might bring good news.

Sure enough, the girl was Rujian’s younger sister, the youngest daughter of the Wen family. She said Rujian was returning to the capital. Hearing this, she felt both heartache and joy. At least these years of waiting hadn't been in vain; he had finally remembered to return.

Every day felt like a year. The more she hoped, the harder the days were to endure. Having lost all hope, she just lived one day at a time. As the end of the year approached, she remembered it was the twenty-second day of the twelfth lunar month. That day, she was checking the holiday goods prepared by the servants when her mother came and said the secondary wife of the Prince Xian mansion had invited her over. The Seventh Prince was their Banner Master; they dared not disobey a summons from their Master.

She changed her clothes and went to De'nei Street. Entering the Seventh Prince's mansion was just a formality, and they sent her out through a back corner gate again. She was puzzled, and they sent her to Dongfushun.

It was an inn. Why would a young lady go to an inn? She was uneasy. It wasn't until a steward from the Twelfth Prince's mansion spoke from behind a curtain, saying, "You just wait here. Someone will come to see you in a while."

She asked who it was, and the steward said, "You don't need to ask. You will know once you see them."

She vaguely guessed that Rujian must have returned. His sister was engaged to the Twelfth Prince, and the Prince's mansion taking action must mean they were acting on behalf of their Princess.

Her heart pounded like thunder, and a buzzing sound filled her ears. Her mind couldn't think, and she felt dazed. After a while, she heard footsteps—at first hurried, then slowing down as they reached the door. She could only see a shadow cast against the Korean paper of the window. She stood up, gripping her handkerchief tightly with both hands, forcing herself to hold back her tears. She didn't dare to speak, fearing that if she opened her mouth, the tears would spill out.

The door curtain was finally lifted. The person outside stepped in—he was taller and sturdier, no longer the way he used to be. She squinted her eyes to look at his face. He walked closer, his voice trembling as he called her name, "Hailan..."

A jolt went through her heart. The voice was unmistakable; she still remembered it. She looked at his features again; they vaguely overlapped with those in her memory. It was truly him!

"Third Brother..." She disregarded all propriety, rushing forward to embrace him. Tears flowed endlessly as she buried herself in his arms, saying, "Why did you only come back now? I waited so long..."

He said he was sorry. "I had no choice, but I thought of you every single day."

Their feelings had been tempered, and there was no need for more words; they both understood. After crying for a while, she gradually calmed down. They sat down together, and she poured him wine. Looking at him through the thin veil of tears, his features hadn't changed much, but his brow was always furrowed—a young face with a pair of world-weary eyes.

She reached out to take his hand. "Since you've returned, you won't leave again, will you?"

He nodded. "I won't leave. You and Little Zao are here; where else could I go?"

He still blushed easily. She didn't mock him, whispering, "They all thought I shouldn't have waited, but I waited, and I didn't do anything wrong."

Rujian knew she hadn't had it easy. Even now, there was no complaint, only gratitude. He folded her hands in his palm, calmed his emotions, and said, "Once this is over, we will get married. I will accompany you every day. We will go on boat rides, see the peach blossoms, and make up for all the time we missed."

Now that they were reunited, everything else could become unimportant. As long as they were together, why worry about anything else? But this was a woman's thinking. For a man, it was different; the rise and fall of a family was more important than life itself. She listened as he spoke, word by word, about the Wen family's old case. In his eyes, his father was a good official, and even if he had let personal feelings color his judgments at times, he shouldn't have ended up like that.

"I must clear my father's name and seek justice for my two brothers. The suffering I endured in the Changbai Mountains all these years was too much—watching them die one by one. You cannot understand that feeling." Tears shimmered in his eyes as he looked down and said, "Hailan, I have wronged you in this life. You waited for me so long; even I didn't expect it. When Little Zao told me, I was shocked. I thought you would have married long ago; I didn't expect you were still there. This is my good fortune. But I carry too many burdens on my shoulders. I must wait until the culprits are brought to justice before I can walk out with my head held high. If... I mean, if we cannot have a happy ending, please hate me bitterly. Don't think of me anymore; go find a good man and marry him."

Her tears fell into the wine cup, stirring up ripples. She wiped her eyes with a handkerchief and said, "I waited for you not to hear you say these things. Promise me you will be well. How many thirteen-year periods are there in a lifetime? Don't let me down."

He came over and held her, too many words stuck in his throat, only sighing helplessly, "You are so foolish."

She was foolish, but it was a foolishness that was worthwhile. She knew there were countless thorns ahead, but he was back; no matter how many difficulties there were, they would certainly be able to overcome them.

It was like finding a lost treasure; she felt as though her back was no longer empty. She had a man, too. She raised her face to kiss him; he was so tall that she could only reach his chin. His face grew even redder, but he obediently lowered his head, pressing his lips to hers.

Hailan was overjoyed, kissing him carefully. Because she had little experience, she was a bit clumsy. His kiss was light and gentle, without aggression. She felt his breath, which gradually grew unsteady; he must have been moved as well.

He pressed her down on the kang, the look in his eyes dazed, like obsidian sinking to the bottom of a pool—a gentle ripple that collided with her heart. His hands wandered over her curves; even through the thick padded jacket, she could still feel his strength. He kissed her earlobe, his teeth grazing it gently, and she moaned softly, murmuring his name.

She thought something would happen, but it didn't. He lay down by her side, his face pressed tightly against her neck.

"Wait a little longer, until the day of our wedding night." He held her hand tightly, his palm burning hot. "Hailan..."

She kissed his eyes. "I will wait for that day."

He said, "Next time, embroider something for me—a blade of grass, a flower, anything. Let me carry it with me, as if you were by my side."

She said she would. When she returned, she prepared a set of undergarments for him, embroidering two butterflies on the hem, with vibrant patterns and curled antennae.

Happiness was hard to come by, yet losing it was easy. On New Year’s Eve, he was taken away by the Commander of the Nine Gates on charges of defying imperial orders and escaping. On the first day of the New Year, when people came to pay their respects, someone mentioned, "You don't know? The third son of the Wen family escaped from the Changbai Mountains, was caught last night, and has been handed over to the Ministry of Justice. I remember the third son of the Wen family was once your family's son-in-law. It's truly troublesome that this happened."

Her father pushed the matter away completely. "That was all over a dozen years ago. Whether he returned or was caught has nothing to do with our family."

She was frantic. Once the guests left, she begged her father, "Please find a way; he is your son-in-law."

Her father scolded, "A grown woman, have you no shame? What son-in-law? That was eight hundred years ago, and you still mention it! I tried to find you a husband, but you wouldn't marry. What are you thinking?"

At this point, she had no shame left. She said, "I have met with him. Last time at the inn... I am already his." Seeing her father stunned, she knelt and kowtowed several times. "I didn't marry for all these years just for him. Now that he is back, I cannot miss him even if I die. Father, if you are angry, you can beat me, but you must find a way to save him. If he dies inside, I won't be able to live either."

Her father was furious, but he was helpless against her. It was a fated disaster from a past life—they had only met a few times, yet it reached the point of wasting her youth in this inextricable entanglement. Later, he used his connections and tried to pull strings everywhere. But the Ministry of Justice was too strict, saying that because he was a major state criminal, no outsiders were permitted to visit the prison. When she finally saw him again, he was already a corpse, lying stiffly on the death bed.

She couldn't believe it. At that moment, she felt clearly that her heart had been torn to shreds, covered in blood and flesh. He was dead; what was left in her life? Before, it was exile, and she still had hope. Now? She had been slapped hard by reality and was forced to wake up.

She knelt before him, touching his cold face. "Third Brother..." He was silent and unresponsive. She smelled the scent of death; a sense of hopeless desolation gripped her throat, and she couldn't help but let out a wail. No matter how she pushed him, he wouldn't wake up. She felt her breath fading, ready to follow him at any moment.

Her family couldn't bear to see her like this, so they persuaded her to go back. Sitting in the sedan chair, she coughed up a mouthful of blood, staining the collar of her tunic red.

From the time he was laid out to the time he was sent to his grave, she was there through it all. Although she felt sorrow in her heart, she found she could no longer cry. Often, she would sit alone by the coffin and whisper to him; outside, the cymbals clanged loudly, and she couldn't even remember what she had said.

On the day he wasburied, she watched the coffin sink into the deep, cold grave, feeling as though she had gone in with it, trembling uncontrollably. The mound was quickly piled up, leaving only the tombstone in front, emptily inscribed with "Tomb of Wen Rujian."

She could no longer stay in this world of red dust; she felt uncomfortable all over if she stayed even one more day. She went to the Red Shell Temple to become a nun. Perhaps the quiet lamp and the ancient Buddha were better suited for her, where she could find peace far away from the mundane world.

Doing this was selfish, and she knew it. She only cared for herself, ignoring her aging parents. She had never thought about what would happen when they grew old. Her mother cried heart-wrenchingly, almost kneeling to her. "Your father and I are no longer young. How can you have the heart to leave us with no one to rely on in our old age? What kind of debt did we incur that Heaven would torture our Suo family like this? One died, and the other became a nun—this is the end of me and your father!"

In the end, she couldn't harden her heart. She couldn't shave her head, so she could only practice as a lay Buddhist. She spent more than half a year in peaceful time at the temple, until Dingyi came to pick her up. She walked out of the mountain gate to meet her. Dingyi was heavily pregnant and had fallen out with the Twelfth Prince, living alone in the old mansion—it was truly pitiable. For Rujian’s sake, she couldn't ignore her, so she followed her back to the city to take care of her daily needs. She never returned to her own home, feeling too ashamed to face her parents.

Dingyi gave birth to a son and named him Xian'er. The child was beautiful. She liked him; sometimes holding him, she felt as though her lost soul had suddenly found an anchor.

There was a wisteria wall in the Wen family mansion that bloomed even in autumn. She liked to take Xian'er there to wander. Walking along, she would occasionally meet Xia Zhi, who was a senior fellow apprentice of Dingyi. He was a somewhat overly active person who missed his junior apprentice sister and would often come to the mansion to visit, bringing some food or little trinkets.

Women are quite sensitive in certain areas, and she didn't know if it was just her overthinking, but she always felt Xia Zhi was somewhat strange toward her. When he came to tease Xian'er and asked the child to call him "uncle," her heart would tremble involuntarily—if Rujian were still alive, he would be the real uncle to Xian'er.

Everything was reflected in the minutiae; she couldn't explain it clearly, but she felt it. Dingyi was worried about the Twelfth Prince and rushed off to Khalkha. She asked her to send Xian'er to Langrun Garden, but she didn't think that was good for the child. Although the Noble Consort in Langrun Garden was the Twelfth Prince’s biological mother, how could someone who didn't even have passion for her own son take good care of a grandson? She kept Xian'er, bringing him along with the wet nurse and the nanny. When Xian'er was eight months old, she received a letter from Dingyi. The letter said they couldn't come back; the Twelfth Prince had been exiled in disguise by the court, enfeoffed as the Prince of Khalkha, and stationed there. Returning to the capital in the future would be like visiting relatives; they couldn't stay often.

There are many examples of "the bow being put away when the birds are gone." This ending wasn't bad; at least they were together and alive. It was just a pity for Xian'er, left in the capital—to put it bluntly, acting as a hostage. People soon came from the palace to take Xian'er into the palace to be placed with the Seventh Prince and raised personally by the Empress. Hailan couldn't bear to let him go, and Xian'er was a bit more sensible now, pulling on her and refusing to let go, crying day and night when separated from her. The Empress had no choice but to take her into the palace as well.

Hailan had participated in the selection process when she was young. The daughter of a fourth-rank official was usually only kept as a palace maid at best, and at the time, her father had used silver to get her brushed out in the first round. She never expected that after so many years, she would finally enter the Forbidden City along with Xian'er.

The Empress was an exceptionally wonderful person; despite her noble status, she held a heart of childlike innocence. She knew about their affair. Once, while burning incense at the Xianruo Hall, she turned around and asked, "Do you believe there is an afterlife for husband and wife?"

She thought for a moment and said there was. The Empress smiled faintly. "Only those with a karmic connection in this life can find each other again in the next. If there is no connection in this life, you won't even be able to recognize his features, so why hope for an afterlife? That person has already gone far away; don't think of him anymore. If you have the fate to meet, you meet; if you don't, you don't travel together. He is not yours; no matter how obsessive you are, it's useless. While you are still young, find a way out for yourself. You should have a home, a husband, and your own children. It is said that those who die young have no roots, and he cannot keep the memories of this life at all. If you guard this for a lifetime, it will be a wasted effort in the end. Looking at couples everywhere every day, don't you feel sad thinking of yourself alone? Find someone; whether they are good or bad, have someone to care for you, someone to warm your heart."

She lowered her head and played with the tassels on her prayer beads. She couldn't really take it in, just perfunctorily saying, "The Empress also says it depends on fate. Perhaps my fate hasn't arrived, or maybe this is just how it is in this life—maybe I'm just destined to be lonely for a lifetime!"

She didn't agree, and the Empress didn't force her. Another two years passed peacefully like that.

Xian'er grew older and was very clever. The Empress loved him, and there were no taboos on usual days. He liked to watch the brothers read, going to the Study and the Prince's quarters. Even before he was three years old, he would listen to the masters talk about Confucius and Mencius, and he would be mesmerized. She held him in her arms, smiling and asking if he understood, and he said, "I half-understand." This sentence alone made her greatly astonished.

Walking often in the Forbidden City, she would occasionally encounter the Emperor. Low-ranking palace servants were not allowed to face the Emperor, not even while kneeling. Seeing the imperial carriage coming, one had to turn and stand facing the wall—that was the rule. One time, she was taking Xian'er through a narrow passage and happened to see the Emperor coming out of the Grand Council. She didn't think much of it and backed aside with Xian'er in her arms. The child leaned on her shoulder and blurted out, "Uncle Amuqi."

The Emperor was very affectionate toward children, and because Xian'er was raised in the Yikun Palace, the uncle and nephew were very familiar with each other. The Emperor beckoned, and Xian'er struggled out of her arms. She naturally had to attend to him, sending him forward, right into a pair of smiling eyes. The Emperor pointed to the person accompanying him. "This is the First-Class General Fuxiang, who made great contributions in attacking the Dzungars. Tonight there is a banquet in the palace, and the Empress is hosting Fuxiang and the Old Great-Aunt. You should help your mistress more."

Hailan bowed to acknowledge the order, feeling a vague premonition that the Empress's addiction to being a matchmaker had flared up again.

Just as she expected, the General was there precisely for this reason. Fuxiang’s grandmother was a cousin of the Gao Emperor, but by now they were a side branch, belonging to the "Red Belt" nobility. As for the man, he was a martial man, yet his speech didn't seem ostentatious; rather, he was very polite. There were many people at the banquet, and they didn't have much interaction, and it was only afterward that they met again. He was very honest and spoke with sincerity, "I won't hide it from you. I previously had a wife who died of illness three years ago. We had deep feelings for each other, and I originally didn't intend to remarry, but I couldn't resist the pressure from my family. I know you have a similar past, and to be honest, I truly admire you after hearing about it. For a woman to pour her entire youth into another person—you are a remarkable woman of great loyalty. But life is too long; one lives not only for oneself but also for one's family. If you don't mind... let's be companions! I don't care if he is in your heart; offering sacrifices to him is a part of your true feelings." He carefully observed her expression. "Hailan, only those who have experienced setbacks can better empathize with others. Why not give me a chance, and give yourself a chance?"

She hadn't cried for a long time, but now she couldn't help it. Perhaps it really was because of his understanding that for the first time, she felt she wasn't so tired and could finally put it down to rest.

She married him. As a thirty-year-old spinster, she shouldn't have had any expectations, but who would have thought that in the end, she would have such a result? Her parents felt quite relieved. Sometimes she felt regretful again, suddenly thinking of Rujian, feeling terribly sorry for him. However, Fuxiang was a good man. When she shared her inner thoughts with him, he listened carefully—not like a husband, but more like a friend who could share her heart.

She wrote a letter to Dingyi, who was said to be living in a place with stunning scenery, but the journey was so far that it took two or three months for a courier to go back and forth. Seasons changed, and when she received the fourth reply, she was pregnant herself. By a strange coincidence, Dingyi was also pregnant. In her letter, she missed Xian'er and said that next spring, she would submit a memorial to the court, asking permission for them to return to the capital to visit relatives and friends.

Counting the time, they had already been in Khalkha for five years. It felt like but a turn of the head—five years had already passed.

She stood under the eaves watching Fuxiang practice boxing. He was very attentive to her condition now; whenever he finished a set, he would often turn back to look at her. She sighed. Her life had been full of ups and downs, but now it could be considered settled. As for happiness, it wasn't quite that—it was just living life together. After all, Rujian was unforgettable to her; he had been before, and he still was. But she had hidden him deeper; to bring him up again, she would need a knife to split her heart open.