The next day, Ding Yi was going to meet her mother-in-law and felt uncertain. She rose before dawn, prepared herself, and sat in the hall waiting for the Twelfth Prince.
Sha Tong had been assigned to serve her, probably to prevent troublemakers. He had followed Hong Ce since childhood and had good martial skills that could protect her completely. During the journey to Ninguta, the two had developed a decent relationship and had things to talk about. Ding Yi didn’t consider him an outsider and confided in him: “I’m so afraid, even more than when I first followed my master to the execution grounds. Tongzi, have you met Noble Consort Gui? What kind of person is she? Is she easy to get along with?”
Sha Tong spoke rather diplomatically: “Noble Consort Gui, well, she has no other issues, except she’s a bit particular and has a somewhat bad temper.”
Ding Yi felt even more anxious. “What do you mean by that?”
“She’s had a bitter life, I suppose. She was favored by the Emperor Emeritus for over three years, but later, when the old master reconciled with the Empress Dowager, she was cast aside. Think about it—yesterday you were cherished like the apple of one’s eye, today you’re thrown in the mud. Anyone would be upset. She harbors resentment about this, and her relationship with the Twelfth Prince isn’t deep. The Noble Consort herself has said she doesn’t expect her son to support her in the future. Such words, how they chill the Twelfth Prince’s heart! At that time, our master had just returned from Khalkha. Because of his background, he was sent there, where he suffered greatly—even his ears were damaged. He returned with a heart full of grievances, wanting to open up to his birth mother, only to hear Noble Consort Gui say such things. I saw the Twelfth Prince leave with reddened eyes. Is that how a mother should behave?” He shook his head, sighed, and continued, “Our master hasn’t had it easy. Since childhood, he was placed in his foster mother’s palace, where he wasn’t taken seriously. As for his birth mother, she was busy complaining and wallowing in melancholy, not caring for him. He grew up being pushed around like this. Now that he’s met you, I know he doesn’t say it, but he truly cares about you. So, if you have to endure some harsh words today, try not to take them to heart. As long as you and the Twelfth Prince are good together, other people’s words should pass through your ears three times without entering. That’s how you develop resilience.”
Listening to his long speech, Ding Yi understood that the Noble Consort would be difficult to deal with. Sha Tong was giving her warning. The main issue was that the Noble Consort didn’t value the Twelfth Prince, which made her quite uncomfortable. She knew this was a problem in imperial families, though it happened in regular households too. It wasn’t a big deal—she hadn’t been close to her birth mother either. But somehow, when it came to the Twelfth Prince, it particularly pained her heart.
She nodded, “I’m prepared to be scolded. For the Twelfth Prince, it’s worth it. The old lady has been unhappy for over twenty years—that knot in her heart probably can’t be untied.”
“Exactly!” Sha Tong said, “By rights, I, as a servant, shouldn’t speak ill of the old master, but this is just between us. Back then, there were many consorts in the palace. The Emperor Emeritus had thirteen princes, plus there were those who didn’t bear children. Noble Consort Gui, well, she just had too much of a temper.” He then smiled, “I heard the Seventh Prince has also been matched with a Mongolian princess. We should be careful. Prince Bao is a smiling tiger, and his daughter is resourceful. The Seventh Prince fears his wife, so he probably won’t be able to recite any spells.”
Ding Yi smiled in agreement, “Heaven has paired them well. There needs to be someone formidable managing the household for the front door to stand firm. If two people have the same temperament, the house would collapse.”
As they talked, day broke, and a chorus of roosters could be heard in the hutong. Ding Yi stretched and went outside to check the weather. The snow had stopped, and a faint red glow appeared on the horizon—it looked like the sun would come out. Two servants used poles to extinguish the lanterns without taking them down, poking through holes in the bottom. The pole tips had copper cup-shaped covers that smothered the flames, extinguishing one light at a time. They finished quickly, turned to smile at her, and then scampered away.
With her hands tucked in her sleeves, she took a deep breath. The world was covered in snow, and the air was crisp and refreshing. Her circumstances were different now, and so was her state of mind. In the past, she would have been in the stable at this hour, harnessing horses and preparing to go to the office! Recalling her former busy life, she felt content. Some people, after achieving wealth and status, refuse to face their past hardships, speaking of them with sighs and melancholy. Not her—she had a broad mind and knew how to find joy in suffering. Perhaps this was the biggest reason the Twelfth Prince had fallen for her!
Simple-minded girls have good fortune, she thought, smiling gently as she was about to return inside. From the corner of her eye, she spotted him entering the gate—properly dressed in an official robe embroidered with gold and silver four-clawed dragons, wearing a warm hat with three-eyed peacock feathers and a collar trimmed with sea dragon skin, walking toward her with powerful strides.
The first time she met him, he was also in official attire. She had felt an inexplicable reverence for him then, an impression deeply etched in her memory. She stood in the early morning light to welcome him, firmly deciding in her heart that even if Noble Consort Gui made things difficult, she wouldn’t leave him. Besides, she hadn’t met the person yet, and too much speculation was pointless. Perhaps the rumors were false; perhaps Noble Consort Gui was very kind.
While she was lost in thought, he arrived in front of her with an indulgent smile on his face. Bowing slightly, he asked, “Why are you standing outside? Waiting for me?”
She smiled and said yes, then looked outside and asked, “Are we leaving now?”
He made a sound of affirmation. “It’s a long way. We’ll arrive around mid-morning, which is just right.” He looked her up and down. Today she had applied a light layer of makeup, giving her a serene and harmonious beauty. A maid brought a large cloak, and he carefully fastened the collar for her, smiling, “There’s no time for breakfast. Let’s buy buns to eat on the way.”
She agreed, looking up at him. There were faint shadows under his eyes—she guessed he was worried too! She raised her hand to rub his cheek, teasing him deliberately, “Were you reading miscellaneous books again last night? You don’t look very energetic!”
He laughed softly, leaning close to her ear and saying, “You won’t let me stay the night here, and I’m not used to sleeping alone. If the decree comes down today, I won’t leave tonight, all right?”
She blushed and scolded, “You men always think of such things, aren’t you afraid of being ridiculed?” Though she complained, her heart was happy. She too wanted to be with him day and night. She truly liked him to the fullest extent—she could never tire of looking at his face for a lifetime.
A eunuch from the gate came in to report that the carriage was ready and invited the masters to depart. The two rode together with minimal entourage, just Guan Zhaojing and Sha Tong driving. The garden wasn’t in the inner city, making it difficult to navigate through the streets and alleys. Hong Ce wasn’t in a hurry, and they did indeed stop at a bun shop along the way to buy lamb’s eye buns. The merchant was honest—the buns had thin skin and ample filling, oozing oil after steaming. Wrapped in cowhide paper, they felt warm and comforting to hold in the cold weather.
Lang Run Garden was built between Ming He Garden and Wan Quan River. Most of the imperial gardens were concentrated in this area south of the Forbidden City. Among the many gardens, Lang Run was considered small, with just eastern and western compounds housing three Noble Consorts. Though not large, the scenery was excellent, with artificial mountains surrounding the garden and more than ten gate towers and corridors. In the dead of winter when all things withered, the water system here had recently been cleared, bringing vitality to the area—where there was water, there was spiritual energy, making the courtyard lively and vibrant.
The garden steward was in a festive mood today, wearing a vermilion longevity robe and standing erect at the main palace gate. Seeing a carriage approach, he took three steps in two and came forward, both bowing and lifting the curtain, smiling, “Auspicious greetings, Twelfth Prince! The Noble Consort has been thinking of you for ages, asking why Old Twelve hasn’t arrived yet. She’s been in and out several times this morning, just waiting for you.”
Eunuchs’ mouths were lively—they could make the dead seem alive. Hong Ce pretended not to notice. He just listened to what was said, taking Ding Yi inside while asking, “I haven’t been here for some time. Is the Noble Consort in good health?”
The managing eunuch said she was fine. “No major illnesses, just occasional headaches. If she’s careful not to go outside in the cold, she’s fine.” As he spoke, he glanced at the young lady who had come along, guessing she must be someone important to the Twelfth Prince. He wanted to strike up a conversation but ultimately swallowed his words. He led the way, guiding them around the artificial mountain to the eastern section, and into the inner En Hui Qing Yu Palace.
The deeper they went, the more nervous Ding Yi became. Her palms were sweating. Hong Ce looked down at her without speaking, squeezing her hand firmly as he led her into the main hall.
The palace maids and eunuchs on duty all bowed. He raised his hand to excuse them. Noble Consort Gui was sitting with Noble Consorts Xun and Rong playing mahjong. Seeing him enter, she straightened her posture. He stepped inside the threshold, swept his sleeve, and bowed, then quickly took two steps forward, knelt on both knees, and bowed his head, saying, “I wish Noble Consort a happy birthday. May Noble Consort’s flowers bloom forever and the jade chambers enjoy eternal spring. Your son kowtows to you.”
Noble Consort Gui was in a good mood today and had a palace maid help him up, smiling, “Thank you for remembering. You’re busy with official duties yet rushed here. I’m happy about that.”
Hong Ce smiled, “Today is your joyous day. Your son should have arrived before dawn. Unfortunately, there was a court meeting that delayed me. Please forgive me, Noble Consort.” He then turned and bowed again, “Greetings to Noble Consort Xun, greetings to Noble Consort Rong.”
The two Noble Consorts told him to dispense with formalities. “The Twelfth Prince looks healthy and in good spirits.” They smiled and glanced at the person behind him. “Indeed, when one encounters happiness, one’s spirits soar. Who is this young lady? She looks quite lovable.”
Ding Yi didn’t dare raise her eyes, just standing there with composed concentration. Hearing them mention her, she stepped forward with a flushed face, curtseying to each and then kowtowing to Hong Ce’s mother. Noble Consort Gui asked her to rise, having already made her assessment. She turned to ask Hong Ce, “Is this your chamber woman?”
A “chamber woman” referred to an unveiled girl, either a maid or from a respectable family, but without a formal status. He didn’t want others to view her this way and replied, “No,” then bowed and said, “After returning from Ninguta, your son petitioned the Emperor for marriage. She is the Fujin I wish to marry. Today, taking advantage of Noble Consort’s happy mood, I’ve brought her to kowtow to you, for Noble Consort to see if she is suitable.”
Noble Consort Gui knew the palace had reserved twenty name cards for arranged marriages for the imperial clan and assumed she was one of them. She examined her from head to toe. The young lady wore banner clothes, not overly ornate in her attire, with her head lowered. She stood straight as a brush handle, with a good figure. Looking at her features—bright eyes and brows, each part exquisite and moving—her appearance was flawless. She nodded, but her words were not entirely affirmative. She only asked, “Which family’s daughter is she? What’s her name? How old is she this year?”
This step was inevitable. Hong Ce feared she would panic and answered first: “Her name is Ding Yi—’Ding’ as in ‘stabilizing the country,’ ‘Yi’ as in ‘suitable for home.’ She’ll be nineteen after the New Year, born in the Year of the Sheep. She originally came from a literary family, but unfortunately, her parents died early, making her life difficult. She doesn’t have many relatives—her brother is an imperial merchant doing business in another city, and her uncle is an official in Beijing, serving in the Board of Rites, handling matters related to ceremonies and sacrifices.”
This was somewhat exaggerated. Ru Jian had acquired a mountain to mine coal but was not an imperial merchant. As for her uncle, his official position wasn’t high, and they weren’t on speaking terms. Ding Yi suddenly felt insecure. Even with embellishments, her background was still humble—how could she match this main branch of the imperial family?
Sure enough, Noble Consort Gui wasn’t very enthusiastic. The other two Noble Consorts didn’t say a word either, each sipping their tea one mouthful after another, their eyes observing from above their cup rims, clearly enjoying the show.
Ding Yi stood there with her back soaked in sweat, dampening her undergarment and making it stick to her body. Unable to move, she felt as if traversing the universe’s primordial chaos. Finally, she heard Noble Consort Gui speak in a cold voice, saying faintly, “She’s passable, qualified to be a secondary consort.”
Her ears buzzed. She gritted her teeth and kept her back straight, not letting anyone see her uneasiness. Though all were called “Fujin,” a slight difference meant a vast disparity. Below a principal wife was a secondary consort, and below that was a concubine. Concubines didn’t require imperial court investiture, being only slightly higher than a maidservant. Others might politely call her “Concubine Fujin,” but in reality, she was just a servant-concubine with no status to speak of.
She had anticipated such an outcome and wasn’t far off in her prediction. But despite her preparation, she couldn’t help feeling disappointed when the moment arrived. It wasn’t that she cared about status; she only cared about one person, gradually developing a selfish desire to have him exclusively, unwilling to share him with others. However, she still maintained perspective—with her background, trying to marry up was wishful thinking. She had once said she was willing to be his concubine, and that resolve hadn’t changed. If the arranged marriage didn’t happen and she couldn’t enter Prince Chun’s residence as the principal wife, she wouldn’t be a concubine either. She would just stay in Jiu Cu Ju Hutong, neither seeing nor hearing, coming and going quietly, not causing him difficulties.
She accepted this quickly, but Hong Ce absolutely could not. He wasn’t impatient, however, and said calmly, “Noble Consort has misunderstood. Your son has asked the Emperor to issue a decree for formal investiture by the court, not for some nameless, unofficial concubine. In this life, your son will not marry a second woman. I just want to quietly grow old with one person, so I must choose someone I truly love. Marrying someone blindly by command, only to end up as a mismatched couple, living a bitter life—who would share that burden for me?”
At this, Noble Consort Gui’s anger flared, but she refrained from showing it due to the presence of others. Today was her birthday, and she didn’t want to end it in discord. Looking again at the girl, who was biting her molars without speaking, that demeanor reminded her of Murong Jinshu.
All this talk of loving one person, staying with one person—these words from the Yu Wen family men made her sick! Being in such a high position yet insisting on one partner for life—wasn’t that a joke? The Noble Consorts present—which one wasn’t a sacrificial lamb of marriage? The pain forced upon them by the previous generation had not yet subsided, and now this generation had produced a romantic, always talking about wanting just one person. Wasn’t this rubbing salt in her wounds? Her son, the most noble among all the princes, ends up marrying such a girl from a humble family—what would people say? Young people, blinded by emotions—she couldn’t indulge his whims. She couldn’t control a man’s thinking, but she could still manage her son’s fate. Her patience, forged over decades, told her there was no need for confrontation now. She would leave it be—without her approval, who would dare arrange this marriage?
As the sun rose higher, the sound of clappers came from the palace gate. Looking up, she saw the Empress leading various noble ladies arriving. Noble Consort Gui said softly, “I don’t want to discuss this matter further today. If you have filial piety, stop here and happily join me for the feast. If you don’t care about me, or if you’re unhappy, leave immediately. I won’t detain you falsely.” With these words, she cast a sidelong glance at Ding Yi and rose to welcome the visitors.