The night passed peacefully. The Seventh Master indeed shared a kang with the Twelfth Master—two grown men, though brothers by blood, were rarely allowed to share a bed due to the customary distance maintained in the imperial family. They must have slept uncomfortably, as both had shadows under their eyes the next morning. With darkened brows and sunken eyes, they sat in the hall, their gazes sluggish when looking at people.
Ding Yi served them dishes and attended to their breakfast, but neither spoke. She rested her chin on her hand as she watched them. She recalled how, initially, these two belonged to different princely mansions. When she had been seeking help everywhere for Xia Zhi’s matter, they were princes with the resplendent dignity of the imperial family, their gazes carrying a certain self-importance and arrogance that made her feel she had to crane her neck to look up at them. Now, both carried the residue of sleep, one with vacant eyes, the other listless, no longer resembling their former selves.
Men sometimes were truly like children—when in a bad mood, it showed on their faces. Yet they were both handsome, not appearing particularly disagreeable. The attendant came to collect the bowls and chopsticks, but they remained seated, reluctant to move. She also kept quiet, rising to go feed fodder in the stables at the back.
Strangely enough, the journey from Changbai Mountain to Ninguta had been plagued by snowstorms, but upon arrival, the sky had cleared. The sun had been out for four or five consecutive days, and although the sunlight on one’s body still felt bone-chillingly cold, it was nonetheless a comfort—seeing the sun was like seeing hope.
A gust of northwestern wind swept past, causing tree branches and the thatched roof to tremble. Snow was accumulated everywhere—a white world, a white sun. She narrowed her eyes and took a breath, the frigid air filling her entire chest, then slowly exhaled, creating a misty fog before her eyes.
The inn not only accommodated guests but also made special provisions for their animals. Horses couldn’t survive on fodder alone; they needed beans. The finely raised ones had eggs mixed into their bean feed to ensure their coats remained glossy.
Ding Yi bent down to scoop beans, then turned to see the Twelfth Master coming over, rubbing his eyes. She paused, hooking the winnowing basket at her waist, and as he approached, smiled and asked, “Didn’t sleep well last night?”
He nodded, leaning against a wooden post supporting the horse shed, and sighed, “The Seventh Master was probably doing it on purpose. He punched and kicked me all night, and I couldn’t very well retaliate. I endured quite a few blows for nothing.”
She felt distressed for him, frowning and muttering, “That man, really… was he pretending? Coming all this way just to make people miserable.”
He lowered his head, looking somewhat pitiful, “I was thinking the same. Had I known, I would have gone to your room in the middle of the night. Even if the single room’s kang is small, a man and a woman wouldn’t mind the cramped space. Two grown men can’t embrace each other, and even lying at one end, he wasn’t peaceful. I just watched his cheeks puff up and deflate. Thankfully, I couldn’t hear him, or it would have been more vexing.”
Ding Yi also felt regretful, “Then why didn’t you come? My place was quite spacious, more than enough for two.” But on second thought, she realized it wasn’t proper. After all, they hadn’t yet established a formal relationship, and sharing a kang, even without doing anything inappropriate, wouldn’t be decent. She blushed with embarrassment.
Hong Ce smiled somewhat suggestively, then paused briefly before whispering in her ear, “There will be a lantern festival tonight. I expect the Seventh Master will want to go together. Let’s take advantage of the crowd to slip away from him, and we’ll enjoy ourselves on our own, without bringing him along. We rarely get the chance to go out together. What’s the point of having him stick between us, making it a three-person affair?”
Naturally, she also wanted to be alone with him, harboring no fewer complaints than he did. So she softly replied, “I’ll follow your instructions. Just give me a signal at the right moment, and I’ll understand.” After thinking for a moment, she added, “Actually, I’ve mentioned it to the Seventh Master several times before. At first, fearing to offend him, I always politely declined, talking about this and that, but he never took my words seriously. He only cared about his happiness, wanting everything to go his way. Later, I stopped being so considerate and confronted him directly, but he remained impervious. Now I’m at a loss.”
He lifted the corners of his lips slightly, his smile particularly radiant in the morning sun. Recalling her heartfelt outcry yesterday, now not just one-Seventh Master, but even eight or ten wouldn’t matter in his eyes.
This girl, when brave, was truly remarkable. He had always thought she was easily embarrassed, that modesty was ingrained in a girl’s nature, and that even if deeply in love, she wouldn’t easily express it. But when provoked by Old Seven, she had shouted without restraint. At that moment, seeing her lips form those words, he could hardly believe it. The words he had held back for so long hadn’t been spoken, but in the end, it was she who spoke first. In comparison, he, a dignified man, should be ashamed.
As for Old Seven, though annoying, he wasn’t hateful. He was straightforward and impetuous, sometimes genuinely helping him greatly. For a person to appear good, they often need someone less good as a contrast, and Old Seven served as such a comparison. If one were to say he was bad, he wasn’t. Old Seven was not a bad person; he just loved to join in the excitement and meddle, stubborn until he could be made to understand. However, he had one good quality: at least he didn’t harm others. His straightforward, impulsive nature was much kinder than those who harbored hidden schemes. Like Second Brother Dong Qi—why was Old Seven always idle? Because Second Brother was a person with grand ambitions. Even if he became Emperor, Old Seven would still look down on him, thinking he fell far short of Crown Prince Dong Li. Dong Li had given him a few cricket gourds, which he still cherished to this day.
“I know your heart, and that’s enough,” he looked at her, utterly tenderly, “Ding Yi, I saw what you said before you left yesterday. I was so happy I couldn’t sleep for half the night.”
She couldn’t recall for a moment, hesitantly saying, “What did I say that was so endearing?”
His eyes flickered, not daring to look at her, stammering before saying, “You said you love the Twelfth Master! The Seventh Master heard it, I saw it, and now it’s too late to deny it.”
She exclaimed, “I said that?” Recalling, indeed, she had been angered and spoke whatever came to mind. It was aimed at stabbing the Seventh Master’s heart, but contrary to her wishes, he was the type who got excited by attention. The more seriously she treated him, the more pleased he became, even taking it to heart. The intended goal wasn’t achieved, but it had caught the Twelfth Master’s attention. While it was somewhat embarrassing, she wasn’t guilty—she had spoken the truth and wasn’t afraid to let him know.
The Twelfth Master nodded, emphasizing with certainty, “Yes, you said it, absolutely true.” After speaking, he lowered his eyelashes, turning his head slightly, “I had wanted to tell you but was interrupted when the attendants brought in the dishes… I also love you in my heart. Though you already know, it needs to be said again. With me, you can feel secure. I don’t have the habit of having three wives and four concubines, unlike the Seventh Master who is greedy but easily satisfied. You can be one hundred and twenty percent assured!”
The brothers undermining each other was truly amusing. Ding Yi held back her laughter, feeling waves of warmth in her heart. He said he adored her, which seemed to go even further than simply loving her. He elevated her highly, while someone of his status and position was willing to humble himself. Perhaps the deeper the love, the more humble one becomes, even emperors and ministers being the same.
Ding Yi began to look forward to the lantern festival that night. During the day, he had official business to attend to. Lu Yuan’s troops had arrived, but they couldn’t act rashly. Merely capturing the slaves would be useless; they needed to catch Yue Kundou, Solun Tu, and their entire gang in one sweep for the subsequent case to proceed systematically.
As for the Seventh Master, he was giving grandiose opinions, completely off track. He knew a lot of theory, but his practical experience fell far short of Old Twelve’s. Having realized this himself, he fell silent awkwardly, turning instead to please Ding Yi, wanting to take her to a ready-made clothing shop to buy clothes.
She declined repeatedly, “Thank you for your kindness, but we’re here to handle a case. Changing clothes would be inconvenient for the operation, so let’s not create confusion for everyone.”
The Seventh Master shook his head, “Poor thing, you haven’t worn a skirt for many years. Don’t you know our Banner dress has large slits with pants underneath, which doesn’t hinder horseback riding?”
She was determined not to engage with him, politely declining no matter what he said. The Seventh Master was displeased inside, his face turning extremely sour. Being a pampered child of heaven, he was used to others coaxing him, not the other way around. So he snorted and stormed off.
Going out, and buying clothes—she was extremely willing in her heart, but it also depended on the person. When the Twelfth Master had free time, he gave her a slight signal, and she snuck out through the side door. If the Seventh Master found out, he would likely be furious again.
She asked, following behind, “Is it appropriate to wander around at this time?”
The Twelfth Master said, “Especially at this time, we should appear casual. We’re watching them, but they might also be watching us. We agreed to trade on the second day of the new year. What sense would it make to be confined in the inn on New Year’s Eve?”
Unable to argue, she followed behind him. Looking up in the distance, there were streams of bustling crowds, all preparing for the New Year.
This was a crucial frontier town in an extremely cold region, unlike Beijing where women wore fine pleated skirts and satin jackets. Here, women, like men, wore fur—coarsely stitched directly or, for the more refined, there were high-quality goods with embroidery and gold and silver threadwork. The Twelfth Master was a person of discerning taste, having grown up surrounded by brocade and silk, familiar with palace attire and inner household styles. He was quite particular when buying things. Ding Yi was indecisive, having not worn women’s clothing for over a decade. In the ready-made clothing shop, she looked around, thinking everything was nice, constantly smiling with curved eyes.
Every girl loves beauty, having dreamed countless times of one day shedding her male disguise and thoroughly immersing herself in embroidered silk and brocade. Coming here today, she felt as if in a dream. Look at those crane-patterned robes, those rabbit fur pieces—all delicate and exquisite. These were what women should wear.
The Twelfth Master also asked for her preference, inquiring if she liked this or that. She just smiled, “My judgment isn’t good; I’ll defer to yours.”
He pulled her over to look, selecting a lotus-blue sable collar warm jacket and a golden-yellow silver fox fur skirt, holding them against her body to measure. The shopkeeper was very astute, having seen thousands of discerning customers. Everything in his shop had proper origins, not second-hand clothing that couldn’t be presented in public.
Hong Ce smiled at her, “Go try them on. I’ll wait for you outside.” He asked the shopkeeper to find a pair of cloud-patterned deerskin boots for her and sent her to the curtained area. Having not worn women’s clothing for a long time, she was somewhat hesitant. He encouraged her with a smile, lightly pushing her shoulder.
She changed in the inner room while he waited outside, his heart pounding uncontrollably. Despite the cold weather, he didn’t feel cold, his hands sweating with anticipation. Looking around at more clothes, all he could see was her face, imagining how every piece would look good on her. His Ding Yi was undoubtedly a beauty beyond compare.
Indeed, she didn’t disappoint him. When she came out from inside, he turned to look and gave a violent start.
She walked toward him step by step, with some apprehension in her eyes, awkwardly tugging at the hem of her skirt, “The material is a bit tight…”
Before, he was used to seeing her in official attire, from the Shuntianyamen black cloth with red trim to later guard attire. Though she was beautiful, her clothing detracted significantly from her appearance. Today, she had finally returned to her proper path. Looking at her graceful figure, he realized this was how she was meant to be—every step blooming like a lotus, every step full of charm. For a moment, he thought he was seeing things, unsure if the person before him was real. Narrowing his eyes, he discerned for a long time. Yes, it was his Ding Yi, with such astonishing beauty beyond his imagination.
He went to meet her, casually picking up a white fox fur muff, helping her rearrange her hair and put it on. Examining her carefully, the more he looked, the more his heart seemed about to leap from his throat. Only at this moment did he fully realize she was truly a woman. Before, in his love for her, her gender had been a vague concept. Now she stood before him, and he needed to properly acknowledge it—she was a woman who deserved his lifelong protection.
He smiled with restraint, his warm voice lingering above her head as he adjusted her hair bun, “The size is just right. Beautiful.”
Her face flushed red as she placed her hand on his belt, “From now on, I’ll have to learn how to arrange my hair. So many hairstyles—the wrapped bun, the swallowtail… I used to be so envious of others. Those young ladies in sedan chairs were so well-groomed, but I didn’t even know how to use a hair clasp.”
For Hong Ce now, no difficulty couldn’t be overcome. He said, “I will learn, and then arrange your hair every day.”
The face beneath the fox fur was so small, but upon hearing his words, it blossomed into a big smile, “What if you’re far away from me?”
“No matter how far, come find me. I’ll be waiting for you.” He raised his hand to trace her delicate features, amused by the image of her with disheveled hair, holding a comb, crossing half the Forbidden City to find him.
They were openly affectionate, oblivious to others. The shopkeeper didn’t rush to close the deal but encouraged them, “Young lady looks so beautiful, sir, why not pick a few more sets? Given the young lady’s figure, there’s not a single ready-made outfit here she couldn’t wear. According to old customs, one should buy new clothes for the New Year. We also have outfits for you, sir. Look at this sable—in the capital, only the Emperor can use it; commoners wearing it would be overstepping. But here, we’re not so particular. As long as you have money, you can also be a local emperor.”
He didn’t make a fuss about it. Being far from the imperial city, it was inevitable to have local customs, so he said, “By your account, shopkeeper, business must be flourishing.”
The shopkeeper made a dismissive sound, “It’s manageable, small profits but a lot of trouble. Have you seen the couplet on my door? The upper line reads ‘two three four five,’ and the lower line ‘six seven eight nine’?”
He smiled, “Then the horizontal scroll should read ‘lacking clothes and food,’ how pitiful.”
“Exactly!” the shopkeeper grinned, “Getting up early and staying up late, all for a few hard-earned coins.”
He beckoned to Ding Yi, “Let’s pick two more outfits since we’re here.”
She shook her head, “It’s not convenient to carry on the journey. Today was just for novelty. We can buy more when we settle down.”
He agreed with her, taking out a banknote and handing it to the shopkeeper. The amount far exceeded the price of these clothes. He simply said, “The master is in a good mood today. The remainder is a tip, also to give you an auspicious start.”
The shopkeeper accepted the dragon-headed bank note, and seeing the large amount, bowed repeatedly, “Oh, really… thank you for your generosity! With your generosity, heaven also favors you, blessing you with such a beautiful companion.” He opened a drawer and gave them a pair of earrings made of local pearls—not too large or small, quite marketable. People should behave this way: grateful for small profits, living in a world where if someone respects me an inch, I respect them a fathom, ensuring longevity in relationships.
The two thanked him and left. Ding Yi fingered the earrings, laughing, “I had ear piercings when I was young, but they’ve closed up now. I can only look at them longingly.”
“Then it would be like piercing ears right before getting into the bridal sedan,” he smiled, looking down at her. Each additional glance brought another measure of attachment. He hadn’t felt this content for many years. She was complete, and so was he—truly an indescribable feeling.
They strolled along the path they had come, not knowing how much time had passed. Returning to the inn, it was dusk. The inn’s attendants began lighting lamps, with red and green lanterns hanging one after another under the eaves. Today was New Year’s Eve. Not a single room in the inn was vacant, all filled with merchants from other places who couldn’t return home for the New Year. The owner sent a bowl of smoked bamboo shoots with braised tofu to each table as an extra dish for everyone.
The hall was lively when they entered, with everyone cupping their fists in New Year greetings. Hong Ce escorted Ding Yi back to their room, encountering the Seventh Master who had been waiting for a long time in the corridor. The Seventh Master had been furious, complaining about such favoritism—how could they compete happily and fairly? Seeing them approach from a distance, he wanted to make a few sharp remarks, but when his eyes caught sight of Xiaoshu, he was greatly surprised. The dried sweet potato in his mouth fell out, his hand suspended in midair, pointing at her and exclaiming “Ah” for a long time, unable to speak.