Before officially reporting for duty at the Seventh Prince’s residence, she first went to Prince Chun’s residence. Though she couldn’t accompany the Twelfth Prince directly, traveling along the same route meant she could still meet him whenever they stopped at post stations.

With just two days left before departure, Ding Yi was filled with excitement. At the entrance, she greeted the doorkeeper pleasantly and asked, “Is His Highness in?”

The doorkeeper confirmed he was, saying, “He’s been busy these past two days preparing for the journey!” He glanced at her and lowered his voice inquiringly, “Didn’t the Seventh Prince ask you to go check out their cellar the other day? Did you go? Where are you working now?”

She smiled, “I went, but not to see the cellar. I’ve joined the guards. I’m reporting for duty today but came to pay my respects to His Highness first. His Highness mentioned liking mulberries last time, so I prepared some for him to try.”

The doorkeeper chuckled, “You’re quite the clever one, keeping one hand here and one hand there.” He slapped his thigh, “Alright, I’ll send someone to announce you… His Highness is such a grown man, yet still eating mulberries? How peculiar…”

Is there an age limit for what one can eat? Adults have cravings too, they just don’t show it openly. In such grand princely mansions, melons and lychees were surely abundant, but mulberries would certainly be rare. It was like someone accustomed to exotic delicacies suddenly craving pickled eggplant – the humble foods often seemed fresh and novel.

The messenger returned quickly, beckoning, “His Highness says to bring you in.”

Ding Yi expressed her thanks and followed swiftly.

The prince’s residence was vast. The garden was on the other half of the compound, and this time the prince was in the second courtyard, just past two moon gates. Since there was no princess consort in this residence, the entire household revolved around the master’s preferences. The Great Qing, like the previous dynasty, revered Tibetan Buddhism, and thus the administrative areas also had prayer wheel towers. As Ding Yi passed by the tower, she looked up to see brass prayer wheels inscribed with strange characters. The four-sided open doorways revealed a statue of White Tara inside, with a serene and majestic countenance.

“White Tara delivers from eight perils and is a manifestation of Avalokitesvara,” a gentle voice behind her explained. “With devoted practice in her dharma, one can cultivate wisdom.”

Ding Yi recalled that when her parents were alive, they had also enshrined such a bodhisattva, though in a different color – theirs was green. Tara comes in five colors, originating from Avalokitesvara, but each with different duties. She turned with a smile, “My master says I lack insight. I should invite one of these homes too. If I worship this bodhisattva, perhaps I’ll become more clever.”

The prince stood in the morning light, wearing a willow-green casual robe with a jade belt cinching his waist, appearing as radiant as the dawn. He often wore a smile, and when he smiled, it was pleasant – not overly exuberant, but warming to the heart. Ding Yi was momentarily stunned, then swept her sleeve in a respectful bow, tilting her head back, “How embarrassing that you’ve come out to welcome me.” She chuckled teasingly and raised her basket for him to see, “I picked these mulberries yesterday evening and soaked them in well water overnight. They’re very clean. Try them later – no need for osmanthus honey, they’re not sour at all, certainly different from what you ate as a child.”

Hong Ce hadn’t expected him to take his casual remark so seriously – he had merely mentioned it in passing. Childhood memories were more about nostalgia than the actual desire to eat something. But since the berries were here, he couldn’t refuse such thoughtfulness. With eunuchs bustling about, organizing the writing implements and scrolls he would take on the journey, he was feeling irritated and had come outside for relief. He pointed north, saying, “Let’s go to the pavilion, it’s quieter there.”

Ding Yi responded with a quick “Yes,” following as he led the way. The sun had risen not long ago, its strength still mild, hanging pale in the crab-shell blue sky, its light soft and gentle. The Twelfth Prince’s shadow fell diagonally, just touching the hem of her robe. She looked down at the wavering outline and wind-lifted hair tips, feeling a sense of present peace and contentment.

The prince’s garden was a maze of winding paths leading to secluded spots. Following the blue-stone pathway forward, the dense bamboo leaves partially revealed roof corners. A bit further ahead stood a delicate pavilion with a plaque reading “Cool Breeze Brings News” hanging beneath its eaves. A hidden paradise within the bamboo grove, the scenery here differed from what she had seen through streets and alleys. Outside, in the heat of summer, the yellow dirt roads and cicada songs left one parched. Here, coolness pervaded instantly – spending a summer here, one wouldn’t even develop heat rash.

Thinking of the heat rash, she reached back to scratch her spine. As the prince sat down at the stone table, she quickly took the bowl out of her basket. Poor families lacked fine porcelain for food – thick-based, blue-rimmed bowls had to do. Without a lid, how to manage? Simple – a large bowl inverted over a small one.

She smiled, “Please don’t mind. We can’t afford jade-stone lotus leaf plates, so I made do with these eating bowls.” She stood to the side, offering them respectfully, “If you like them, have a few more. If they don’t suit your taste, disposing of them isn’t wasteful – I picked them myself, after all.”

The child had the honest straightforwardness of a country person. Hong Ce glanced at the bowl; the mulberries were indeed fully ripe, large with plump seeds. He recalled what he had scrounged from his older brother’s leftovers during his schooling days – small and red, incomparable to those before him.

The prince was refined in appearance and equally elegant in eating, unhurried and composed, unlike Xia Zhi who might bury his head in a bowl of rice. Ding Yi watched him eagerly, those jade-like fingertips moving among the purple-red fruits – just watching was pleasing to the eye. With each press of his lips, she grew tense, carefully observing his expression and asking nervously, “Your Highness, how do they taste?”

The prince slowly smiled, the mulberry juice staining his lips red like a maiden’s rouge. He said they were good, “Indeed different from what I ate as a child. No wonder they fought so fiercely over a single tree. Back then I wondered why the fuss over something that didn’t taste exceptional, but now I see I simply hadn’t experienced their true quality.”

“Then please have more.” Ding Yi selected the plumpest one, grasping it by its stem and placing it at the edge of the bowl. “Try this one, it’s even better.”

Being of royal birth, they had rules for everything, including eating – restraint was necessary, both in the palace and in their residences. Outsiders wouldn’t understand; for someone like Xiao Shu, eating when hungry and sleeping when tired came naturally, but not for him. He recalled how as a child in the palace during festivals, he had greedily eaten an extra date pastry, and his mother had sent Jing Qi to reprimand him – a full hour of lecturing, from You time to Xu time, enough to remember for a lifetime.

He shook his head and pushed the bowl away.

Ding Yi looked at the bowl of fruit with disappointment. The prince had a small appetite; had it been her, she would have emptied it in the time it takes an incense stick to burn. If he didn’t want to eat, so be it! She tidied up while saying, “I came today to report something to Your Highness. Yesterday at Fengya Residence, I selected a bird for the Seventh Prince. In his delight, he agreed to let me join the guards. Earlier, when he asked me to move flower pots and I refused, it wasn’t because I feared hard work; I had my aspirations. I’ve mentioned to you my plan to return and serve my master, but since the Seventh Prince has given me this opportunity, I didn’t want to miss it. I reported this to my master, who also agreed with me. Shortly, I’ll go to report to Prince Xian’s residence.”

Hong Ce was somewhat surprised, “Being a bodyguard in Prince Xian’s residence is no easy task. With your skills, can you establish yourself there?”

This was somewhat embarrassing to admit, and Ding Yi replied shyly, “It’s not exactly as a bodyguard, more like a nominal position in the guard office. The Seventh Prince is taking two birds north, and I’ll be specifically responsible for caring for them.”

So that was it – only Hong Tao could come up with such an absurd idea. Taking birds in such cold weather? What if they froze to death? Whose fault would that be?

His fingers curled loosely as he spoke softly, “The further north, where water freezes instantly. Can you guarantee the Seventh Prince’s treasures remain unharmed? If anything happens, and the Seventh Prince demands accountability, with you under his authority, I won’t even have the opportunity to intercede on your behalf.”

Ding Yi felt that having come this far, she couldn’t worry about such things. Changbai Mountain was within sight, almost within reach. At this point, not even mountains of knives or seas of fire could stop her. Throughout her journey, she had taken things step by step. How long she would live was predetermined; things were as they were, and perhaps death would even lead to rebirth.

She smiled, “I just want to go out and see the world with you. I haven’t thought much beyond that.”

He frowned slightly, “If you’ve set your mind on going, you could have just told me directly. Why resort to such measures?”

Ding Yi muttered, “I was just too embarrassed to be so persistent. You refused several times when I brought it up, so I had to find my way.” She moved closer to the prince, who seemed displeased, the golden flecks in his eyes flickering, unclear. She scratched her head, saying, “Don’t worry, I have my methods. If it gets too cold, I’ll cover them and not let them expose their heads. They’re such tiny creatures; I’ll keep them warm, they won’t freeze to death.”

Enough – solutions come with thinking, and regret now was too late. But… something didn’t seem quite right. He had saved him twice, and seeing him always seemed to bring trouble, to the point where he’d developed a habit, a habit of preparing to clean up after him. What kind of problem was this? Looking at him again, with that flattering expression, blinking those large eyes, those pupils black and bright like the deer in his menagerie.

Hong Ce let out a long breath and shifted his gaze, “How do you find the scenery of this place?”

“Wonderful. You can’t see such vast bamboo groves in the city. You’ve cultivated the bamboo beautifully.” She pointed to the distance, “It would be even better to build a house there, without gable walls, just an octagonal pointed roof, with red pillars and green glazed tiles, with golden silk curtains hanging on all eight sides. At night, you could sleep inside and hear insects calling around you – how carefree that would be!”

He considered it seriously: “I wouldn’t hear the insects, but I could certainly feed the mosquitoes well.”

Ding Yi was startled, having forgotten this detail – had she accidentally touched on a sore point? She panicked a bit, “I spoke without thinking…”

He didn’t mind; many people often forgot, and if he took everything to heart, life would be unbearable. He stood up, hands behind his back, looking in the direction she had pointed, murmuring, “I once had such an idea, planning to build a pavilion and invite my mother to stay, so she could spend summers there. Unfortunately, it never materialized, as the imperial consorts all had their imperial-bestowed places for their twilight years. Any arrangement on my part would have been superfluous.”

Every family has its difficulties, even royal ones. The previous custom was that upon an emperor’s death, imperial consorts with sons would move to residences with their children, while those without children would be settled in separate gardens. Now, with the Emperor Emeritus having abdicated but still alive, they naturally couldn’t follow the old customs – it would be inappropriate to scatter while he was still living.

Ding Yi consoled him, “That’s alright. You see the Noble Imperial Consort when you pay your respects, though it requires some effort to visit frequently. I can’t compare with you – both my parents are gone. When I miss them, I can only sit in the courtyard and look at the stars.”

His gaze quietly flowed over her face; she was parentless, and his situation, by comparison, wasn’t much better. “In the palace, they practice the raising of children by others. Princes are taken by wet nurses at birth and sent to foster mothers. Only during festivals or a mother’s birthday can they meet. The birth mother and child aren’t close, quite distant actually. For instance, while eating together, if she sees you doing something improper, she’ll cough once, and you must put down your chopsticks and stand to listen to her criticism.”

The more Ding Yi heard, the more she felt his hardship, “Then why do you still want to bring her? Aren’t you close with your foster mother?”

He still shook his head, “My foster mother had her daughters to care for, and treated me with some distance. Childhood lacks can make one seek to compensate in adulthood, but unfortunately, I never had such an opportunity. Perhaps I was born destined to be distant from my six relations.”

He turned his head aside, no longer wishing to continue the conversation. Speaking too much to someone he had only met a few times, he had inadvertently become chatty, allowing someone to see through him at a glance – what was the point in that?

Ding Yi had also lived in a gentry household and understood this experience. In her memory, she was close to her wet nurse and her nanny, but couldn’t call her birth mother “mother,” only “madam” – she understood this kind of regret.

“Your Highness, do you believe in fate?” She licked her lips with an awkward smile, her eyes lingering on his sleeve cuff, “I can read palms. Having shallow ties with parents is all in the past and doesn’t matter. You still have your own life ahead! If you trust me, shall I… read your marriage fate?”