Ding Yi faltered for a moment, then smiled and said: “You misunderstand me. I came especially today to pay my respects to you… and incidentally to deliver an umbrella to the cook of your household.”

Even the lowest servants could possess the highest wisdom, and her answer was indeed clever. Hong Ce smiled. “I’m touched that you still remember to pay your respects to me.”

She straightened her expression and cupped her hands toward him: “Your Highness has greatly helped my martial brothers. I keep it in my heart at all times and never dare forget. I came today to say that you replaced our dog for us, and we can’t let you suffer a loss. My senior brother and I have discussed it and would like to compensate you somewhat. However… I must ask Your Highness for some patience. We are poor, so please allow us to repay you with our monthly wages.”

As she spoke, her voice lacked confidence, but her attitude was sincere. For this earnestness alone, he felt his help hadn’t been wasted. He said: “There’s no question of loss for me here. It’s all a matter of relationships—subordinates paying respects to their superior. No need to concern yourself with it.”

“But it’s still about your reputation. If not for you, the dog wouldn’t have been sent from Shaanxi. This humble servant has no other way to repay you, so please let me kowtow properly to you!” Ding Yi truly felt that it was appropriate for him to receive a grand gesture from her. People of their lower station didn’t care about having gold beneath their knees. Being without possessions, kowtowing was the best way to express gratitude.

Hong Ce stopped her at the right moment. “We don’t do that. When you kneel, it changes the whole feeling.”

Nobles receiving prostrations was, in their view, as ordinary as a simple curtsy. The Twelfth Master saying “Don’t bother” was enough for her to speak a cartload of good words. She glanced outside and asked: “Where has Your Highness come from? I didn’t see your sedan chair. Are you alone?”

He nodded. He had left the Grand Secretariat in the afternoon when the sky was already overcast, without the strong sun, and he’d wanted to walk alone. Fortunately, an umbrella had been prepared for him at the Xihua Gate, so walking in the rain, he wasn’t too disheveled.

“Ah, the people around you aren’t attentive enough. How could they let their master go alone? Look at this wind, rain, thunder, and lightning—it’s terrifying.” She sighed regretfully. “If I were serving at your side, I would carry you on my back. Look, your shoes are soaked. How uncomfortable it must be.”

This man could say flattering words with an utterly serious face. He had seen too many fawning people, but she didn’t count among the annoying ones. Her filial devotion was sufficient, but her tone was too grand. With her small stature, she was about the right size to carry a lantern, but carrying a person would be too much.

He looked at her with a skeptical eye. Ding Yi realized this and felt extremely embarrassed, stammering to smooth things over: “Don’t look at my small size, I’m strong.”

Hong Ce casually adjusted his sleeve and said: “Without even an umbrella, if you carried me on your back, I would still have to hold the umbrella for you.”

This was something she truly hadn’t considered. Seeing him curve his lips as he looked at her, she immediately blushed. “I understand Your Highness’s meaning. The last couple of times I’ve only caused you trouble, giving you a headache whenever I appear before you… From now on, I don’t think I’ll have any more problems. Everyone knows I know you, and no one dares to mistreat me.” She paused, licked her lips, and continued, “But I think if I could serve by your side, then you wouldn’t have to worry about me at all…”

This person was quite interesting, speaking in circles but always returning to the same point. Probably having been bullied before, with no one taking her seriously, she wanted to enter the Prince’s household to find protection. Unfortunately, the Prince’s guards were like the imperial guards—selected from trusted individuals who had been trained since childhood. Those who joined halfway rarely existed, and her situation was never considered.

“I don’t worry about you,” he said lightly. “Both times were coincidences. If I can help, I’ll lend a hand. If I can’t, I don’t take on unnecessary troubles.”

She was left high and dry, feeling quite awkward. “This… is also Your Highness caring for me.”

He smiled pleasantly, turning his face to look outside the eaves. Water streamed down the tiles, flowing abundantly. The heavy rain eased the drought since the beginning of summer. The heavier the rain, the more open his mind became. The mansion gate had been half-closed earlier. The doorkeeper only now realized he had returned and hurried out to welcome him, but was dismissed with a glance. Standing with his hands behind his back, facing the empty street, he breathed a long sigh and then glanced at the child. “How old are you?”

Ding Yi tensed up and bowed at the waist. “In reply to Your Highness, this humble one grows a little tail each year at the Double Ninth Festival. On the ninth day of the ninth month, I’ll be exactly eighteen!”

He examined her again. “It doesn’t show. I thought you were at most fifteen or sixteen.”

She grinned and agreed, “Yes, I grow slowly, so I look young.” Normal men at seventeen or eighteen had already grown tall, but she had no choice. Even if two people pulled her—one at the head and one at the feet—even if they dislocated her joints, she would still be the same. People politely said she looked “youthful,” while the impolite called her a dwarf. She wasn’t that short. Compared to the Prince before her, she could just about reach his shoulders. Prince Chun was very tall with long legs, so Ding Yi was considered tall among women. Of course, when standing among men, she didn’t rank.

Hong Ce had never seen someone praise themselves like this and found her increasingly interesting. He asked her, “You’ve recommended yourself several times. Why? Are you not learning your current trade well?”

Ding Yi shook her head and said: “No, my master and senior brothers all take good care of me. The work isn’t tiring, and the salary is enough to feed me. It’s just that… the profession isn’t respectable. A perfectly good person, with one chop, becomes separated from their body. I’ve seen too much of it, and it doesn’t feel good in my heart.”

“Those who are beheaded are criminals who have committed evil. Killing them is simply killing them.” He frowned slightly. “So you’re afraid?”

“No,” she puffed out her chest. “I have a very brave heart…”

Whether it was heaven deliberately teasing her or not, without warning, a thunderbolt suddenly struck down with great force. One could even see the lightning flash roll across the ground. She gasped in shock and fell sitting on the ground. Seeing this, Hong Ce couldn’t help but laugh. “Such a brave heart—is this how brave?”

Her heart was fluttering. Being laughed at by him felt very embarrassing. His ears might not hear well, but her ears worked fine. A boom like that struck right beside her—who wouldn’t be frightened?

As she stammered to reply, his expression suddenly became melancholy. He said softly: “I was afraid of firecrackers as a child. In the palace, every New Year, various fireworks and double-bang firecrackers were prepared, and arranged in rows outside the Taihe Gate. My brothers would all join in the excitement. Several older brothers were brave, blowing on paper fuses to light the strings. I would cover my ears and hide to the side. The firecrackers were powerful, booming as they shot into the sky. Standing close, even the blue bricks under my feet would tremble…” He sighed deeply, his lips curving into a self-mocking arc. “Now, even if thunder explodes beside my ear, I can’t hear it. People are like this—when eyes are closed and ears are blocked, they can withstand things better.”

His words surprised Ding Yi. She knew this lord didn’t have an easy life and had experienced more than other princes. Hadn’t he spent over ten years in Khalka? In the past, he hadn’t been well-regarded.

As she racked her brains for words to comfort him, he extended his hand. She hesitated—was he going to pull her up? She looked at that hand, with its flowing cloud pattern at the sleeve accentuating the snow-white skin and the long, elegant joints. Those fingertips, like the tips of orchids, could touch one’s heart with a single brush.

She hesitated and felt ashamed. She was a rough person—how could she profane such nobility! Instinctively, she wiped her hand on her lapel before extending it.

His palm was warm, gathering strength. With just one pull, she was lifted. She curled her five fingers and hid them behind her back. Her hand was empty, yet it felt as though she had grasped something. She smiled at him and said: “Has Your Highness ever played with sky monkeys? When you insert the stick into a crack between bricks, light it, and it whooshes up into the air, then bursts with a bang. From a distance, it’s not distressing.”

He slowly shook his head. “I wasn’t very brave as a child. I didn’t dare touch those things with fire.”

A stranger, before you get close to them, always seems profound and unfathomable. But after hearing these words, she suddenly felt that although the Prince had power and influence, he was still flesh and blood. She had been vigorously boasting about her bravery, while he openly admitted his character flaws. This didn’t seem to diminish his dignity; rather, it made him seem more human.

“Playing with sky monkeys—isn’t it just to hear that one sound?” He looked at her. Because of his loss, he sometimes became very sensitive. For instance, with watching opera, he couldn’t accept it, so naturally he detested it.

Ding Yi hurriedly said it wasn’t so. “I don’t play with sky monkeys to hear the sound but to see how high they jump. I’m afraid of noise, as you’ve seen. A clap of thunder can frighten me to the ground. Things like lighting firecrackers during New Year’s—I stay away from all that.” She smiled shyly. “I’m just like you, standing far away watching, just joining in the fun.”

The two of them had found a topic to discuss. Standing under the eaves, with rain thundering outside, they chatted about fireworks. Ding Yi could see the smile on Prince Chun’s face. In the flickering lamplight, his every glance and turn of the head was different from others. She didn’t like those with the surname Yu Wen, but this one was an exception. Not because he had helped her a few times, but simply because of his good character and proper manner of speaking. She was willing to talk with him more.

“When is Your Highness’s birthday?” She squinted her eyes, revealing a row of white teeth like glutinous rice. “When you celebrate your birthday, I’ll make you a large red longevity character on a Kongming lantern. When lit and released, it will surely fly higher than a sky monkey.”

He maintained his indifferent appearance. “The ninth day of the ninth month. I was also born on the Double Ninth Festival.”

Ding Yi exclaimed, “What a coincidence…”

Indeed, it was a coincidence. In the world, there are always such coincidences that, when they occur together, cannot be explained. But this person still retained a childlike innocence. Only children spoke of growing tails on their birthdays. Using such expressions at eighteen was truly rare. Hong Ce, who usually navigated the officialdom, constantly alert and guarded, rarely met someone inconsequential with whom he could speak without reservation. He was just considering whether to invite her in for a cup of tea when Guan Zhaojing came in from outside, soaked like a water chicken. He knelt on one knee to the ground and said plaintively: “Master, oh! Your servant waited for you at the Shenwu Gate for a long time, not expecting you to exit from the Xihua Gate. How are you? Did you get wet? The weather changed so suddenly—look, your robe is all wet. Let’s not delay. Your servant has prepared dry clothes for you to change into. Don’t let your body suffer.”

At this point, the casual chat came to an end. Steward Guan needed to attend to the Prince’s entry into the mansion, and Ding Yi had to swallow half of what she still wanted to say. With hands lowered, she respectfully sent him off, feeling melancholy that she hadn’t managed to explain herself properly. Glancing sideways, she saw the Prince turn back after taking a few steps and extend the umbrella to her.

“Take it,” he said, turning the umbrella around so the handle faced her. He raised it slightly and said, “This rain won’t stop for quite a while. Getting too wet will make you ill.”

Ding Yi smiled, bowing slightly and taking it with both hands. “Then I’ll return it to you when the weather clears. Thank you, Your Highness.”

He nodded slightly, withdrew his gaze, lifted his robe, and entered the gate. A group of people surrounded him as they went toward the back.

After washing up and changing clothes, the front courtyard steward Lu Shenchen was already waiting outside. The front and back courtyards of the Prince’s mansion were managed by two separate groups, each with its procedures. The front courtyard steward held a third or fourth-rank position. Besides overseeing the Prince’s estates and agricultural lands, he also handled external official affairs on behalf of his master. Every day, he stood at attention to report who had visited and for what purpose. The Twelfth Master worked in the Grand Secretariat and had connections with the Censorate and the Ministry of Justice, so he also had to report which department had what case, how it was progressing, whether it was concluded, and so forth.

Hong Ce patiently clarified each matter one by one. This was his job, whether he liked it or not. The court was like this—many people, complicated affairs, everyone contributing bits and pieces. If not handled properly, old cases would resurface as problems. When matters were clear, everyone was happy, but there were always one or two cases full of dubious points that required re-investigation from the beginning, becoming intricate and quite intriguing.

He pointed at a name in the register. “Wen Lu committed suicide in prison. The jailer discovered it in the early morning hour of the next day, which means the prison was unguarded that night, or at least no one patrolled. Shortly after Wen Lu’s death, his home caught fire, his wife perished in the flames, and his young daughter disappeared. This case was concluded just like that—ended far too hastily.”

Lu Shenchen acknowledged, “In the afternoon, someone from the Ministry of Justice came and roughly explained the matter. That was a case from when the Grand Emperor was on the throne, twelve years ago. The Ministry of Justice received an order yesterday and has already begun working on it. Wen’s three sons were exiled to the imperial plantation. There was also a daughter. Initially, no relatives were willing to take her in, so she was taken away by her wet nurse. Where she has ended up now is still unknown.”

He closed his eyes briefly. “Investigate urgently. The child is secondary—what’s important is the wet nurse. Since she stayed until the end, she must know something about the cause and effect.”

Lu Shenchen acknowledged with a “Yes,” and said, “Your Highness will soon go to Ningguta, taking the route through Shengjing, which happens to pass by the Changbai Mountains. The Wen brothers were sent there to process ginseng. If they were fortunate enough to survive, they should all be approaching thirty now.”

He gave an “mm” of acknowledgment, pinched the bridge of his nose, and said: “Then submit a memorial explaining the reason. Don’t wait anymore. Choose a time, and let’s set off early!”