Ding Yi had now settled in the Seventh Prince’s residence, tending to the birds—a rather easy job. A bird garden had been set up in one corner of the main garden, with an awning erected to shield the birds from the heat. Two rows of more than a dozen birdcages hung at varying heights, filled with parrots, canaries, bluethroats, and various other species. Ding Yi sat on a small stool below, altering her guard’s uniform jacket, while melodious birdsong filled the air above and cool breezes swept through the corridors. Surprisingly, life here was quite pleasant. Yet this contentment couldn’t last long—they would be departing the next day, leaving her both anxious and expectant. Twelve years had passed since the destruction of the Wen family. In those twelve years, too much had happened, and she had survived it all on her own. But what lay beyond Changbai Mountain, nobody knew. She could only hope her three brothers were doing well, and that the Twelfth Prince would clear her father’s name, allowing those who had been exiled to return to Beijing. Even fallen leaves return to their roots; once back, they could tend to their parents’ graves during the Qingming Festival and the start of winter.
She shook out the altered robe and held it against herself, finding the length perfect. After changing into a side room, she came out and gazed at her reflection in a water vat. The water mirrored back a figure with broad eyebrows and eyes, and a prominent nose, and when she smiled with closed lips, shallow dimples appeared at the corners of her mouth. People do depend on their clothing for presentation; the guard’s attire was far superior to an official’s uniform. Official uniforms were solid black with bright red trim along the collar, often washed to an indistinguishable blur. The prince’s guards wore stone-blue, with satin collars and arrow-shaped cuffs—not flashy in color, but clean and crisp. Looking closely, she noticed embroidery on both shoulders. Since following her master to Sanhe, she hadn’t worn embroidered clothing. Now, even in men’s attire, she found it quite appealing.
She stretched her sleeves, adjusted her belt, and twisted to check her back when, from the corner of her eye, she noticed someone approaching along the pathway. The small birdcage ordered by the Seventh Prince had been completed. He carried it in his palm, whistling as he strolled from the shaded end of the path.
As the prince approached, he scrutinized her, “Being in the prince’s residence is good for you—cleaned up, you’re presentable.” He tossed the birdcage toward her, as if feeding beef to a dog, “Look, made of gold wire, a single cage without food or water containers.” He walked slowly to select birds, pointing at the crested laughingthrush, “This one must come along. The little thing can mimic anything. And that red one too—I’m counting on it to wake me in the morning.”
Ding Yi looked down at the two cages. They were exquisitely crafted, each only the size of a fist, just large enough for a bird to turn around inside. The two birds chosen for the journey were unfortunate. She could only care for them attentively; whether they would survive depended on their fate.
She acknowledged with a “Yes,” adding, “Your servant has prepared small cushions. If necessary, I can wrap them up and keep them warm with hand warmers. But what if it’s too cold and the birds refuse to sing?”
The prince’s eyes were filled with disdain, “That’s for you to figure out. If I knew, why would I need you to tend to them?”
Ding Yi, taken aback, lowered her head submissively, “Your servant understands. Master, when do we depart tomorrow?”
The prince picked at his ear, saying, “The Twelfth Prince has many rules. He’ll count heads at early Mao hour, and we’ll set off at the third quarter after that. In this weather, listen to those cicadas—’Dog Days, Dog Days’… enough to drive a person mad.”
The “Dog Days” the Seventh Prince referred to was a type of small green cicada named for its call. Ding Yi knew he was displeased—a pleasure-seeker, he became irritable at the prospect of official duty. She smiled reassuringly, “Cool your temper. Going north is certainly a difficult task, but if you complete it successfully, you’ll have rendered great service to the court. The Emperor might even promote you! Make you an iron-cap prince, so that your little Beile can inherit your title, passing it down through generations. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
“They’re comfortable while I, their father, suffer.” The Seventh Prince tilted his head back, “Descendants of the founding emperor should earn their kingdom themselves. In my lifetime, being made a prince is good enough. To strive for the title of Prince of the First Rank like old Twelve, sacrificing a pair of ears—even for a hundred million taels of gold, I couldn’t do it.” He sat on the carved railing at the edge of the awning, supporting himself with his hands, and asked, “You have a good relationship with the Twelfth Prince, coming and going often. Have you heard him say anything about me?”
Ding Yi was busy putting water pots into each cage—in hot weather, some birds liked cleanliness and bathed several times a day. Hearing the Seventh Prince’s question, she turned back, “No, you overestimate me. The Twelfth Prince wouldn’t discuss such matters with a servant like me. He’s your brother—you know him better than I do. Speaking ill of others isn’t what a gentleman does. Besides, what could anyone possibly criticize about you? I used to think you were unapproachable, but you’re a very good person. You’re not the type to play mind games; when you like something, you like it, and when you don’t, you don’t. Such character is beyond reproach.”
This little rascal had quite a way with flattery. The Seventh Prince was pleased, “You’re right. Our older generation was formidable, with eighteen schemes in mind. By my time, only six of the seven orifices are clear. No wonder people say each generation is inferior to the last. But I think, so what? I’m content, who am I bothering? If everyone were clever and capable, if everyone could be Emperor, wouldn’t the world fall into chaos? Better to be like me, without grand ambitions, well-fed three times a day, living in peace and security.”
None of these dragon’s sons and phoenix’s grandsons were fools. The Seventh Prince also knew that standing out made one a target for elimination. He preferred to appear incompetent, with a bad reputation, so the court wouldn’t pay him much attention.
Ding Yi bowed respectfully, “Your Highness is wise. Few in this world can truly see through fame and fortune.”
His phoenix eyes flashed sideways, “Indeed, even you know to seek powerful connections, let alone those who roll in the circles of wealth and nobility.” With that, he stood up to stretch, muttering, “I just remembered, I need to bid farewell to our Noble Consort.” Without further words, he turned and left.
Truly like a passing wind. Ding Yi bowed to see him off. While the princes needed to say goodbye to their family members, she had no one except her master and senior brother. She thought she would have no visitors, but unexpectedly, someone came to announce that her father had arrived. Her head immediately began to ache upon hearing this. Her wet nurse’s husband had chosen a timely moment—one day later, she would have been gone, leaving his monthly allowance unsettled.
She could have refused to see him; if she ignored him, he wouldn’t dare make a scene at the prince’s residence. But on second thought, she had to go. Having come this far, she couldn’t fail now. Money wasn’t the main issue; what mattered was ensuring a smooth departure. Better to spend money for peace than to have him shout that Mu Xiao Shu was the orphan of Wen Lu, which would create an enormous problem.
She tucked two pieces of broken silver into her sleeve pocket and went out through the side gate to meet him. Mu Lian Sheng had a dark complexion, which had darkened further to a pot-bottom black after half a summer. As a farmer, though he begged for money everywhere, in spring he planted rice and melons. In summer, he harvested melons to sell at the market, either whole or sliced, making direct income. Despite his honest appearance, he wasn’t as simple as he seemed—he could be unreasonable and shameless. Ding Yi had a strategy for dealing with him: when he became difficult, she would be even more so, scolding him first before giving him money. A slap followed by a sweet date—that was how she had always managed.
She went up to greet him, “Dad, you’ve come?”
Mu Lian Sheng gave a half-hearted grunt, looking her up and down, “Yes, if I didn’t come, I wouldn’t even be able to find you. You’ve risen in the world, haven’t you? How much is your salary?”
She replied patiently, “I just arrived yesterday. Even if there is a salary, I haven’t received it yet.”
“So you’re pleading poverty with me! I haven’t been to the city for two months, and this is how you greet me?” He coughed, “Actually, I didn’t come to ask for money. You grew up in our home after all, and now that I’m getting old and unable to work, I’m counting on you to support me in my old age! Isn’t our family looking after the commander’s land? That land can’t lie fallow. Now that the melon seedlings have been pulled, we need to plant wheat and sorghum. Come back with me, finish the work, and then return.”
Ding Yi knew he was playing tricks but replied patiently, “I’m now a guard in the prince’s residence. How can I leave whenever I want? Aren’t you making things difficult for me with this suggestion?”
“You haven’t joined the Banners; you’re not the prince’s bondservant or household slave. If you quit the job, you quit. There’s nothing unreasonable about it.”
After a roundabout approach, he ultimately returned to the old topic, merely reminding her of her origins. Her expression darkened as she folded her arms, “Can you stop this coughing fit? This is the prince’s residence, not the Dingxing market. If you have something to say, say it. If not, I’m going back—there’s a pile of work waiting for me!”
“Hey!” Mu Lian Sheng’s voice grew louder, “I raised you all these years, and when I ask you to do some work, you pull rank on me. What’s so special about the prince’s residence? Even princes must be reasonable! You’re my godson—I’m just looking after my child. Who am I bothering?”
See? He had started to be unreasonable. That’s why she couldn’t give him the money yet. If she was too agreeable, he would try to extort more. She had to let him burst like a boil, releasing all his pus before she could dampen his momentum. Ding Yi said, “Stop shouting. I lived in your home for less than six years, and the money you’ve taken from me over the years amounts to at least seven or eight taels. You know how you treated me as a child. When I was waiting by the stove for my godmother to make me pancakes, you saw me and slapped out one of my teeth. Have I ever complained about these things? As a person, you should know when enough is enough. We don’t owe each other anything. I’m still grateful to you. If you can’t make ends meet, I have something to give so you won’t go hungry. But you can’t keep causing unreasonable trouble. If word gets out, it won’t sound good.”
Mu Lian Sheng, with a half-drooping mouth corner, said, “So you know it wouldn’t sound good? What’s not good about it? Let me ask you when you entered the prince’s residence, how did you register your household? If the prince knew your background, would he let you enter the residence?”
Ding Yi finally hardened her expression, “If you’re going to be like this, I won’t give you a single coin. I have nothing left to lose. If people ask you how you knew, what would you say? Didn’t you raise me to this age? If I fall, you’ll be implicated as an accomplice!” After saying this, she turned to leave. Mu Lian Sheng was stunned, standing there not knowing how to respond. She walked a few steps then looked back. The timing was right—going too far would be counterproductive—so she returned. Sighing, she said, “These past few years, your income has decreased; it’s not easy. I don’t mean to argue with you, but I want you to know I’m not a child anymore. Your deceiving and threatening tactics don’t work on me.” With that, she took out the broken silver pieces and handed them over, “This is all I have. There’s little opportunity for profit on this trip, and no one has given me any tips for favors. Take this—it’s enough to buy two bags of flour. Don’t complain it’s too little.”
Before Mu Lian Sheng could respond, she turned and went through the side gate.
Weighing the three or four qian of silver in his hand—not even enough to buy a cricket! Having been scolded by that youngster, Mu Lian Sheng naturally felt unsatisfied. He spat and gritted his teeth, “Fine, if that’s how capable you are. We’ll see what happens!” He pocketed the silver and walked away, muttering curses.