The Wen family compound was located in Shan Lao Hutong, with two stone lions standing guard at the entrance, exuding grandeur and dignity.

Ding Yi looked up at the entrance, noticing that the Wen family plaque had been rehung beneath the doorframe. Since the Wen family property had never been officially confiscated but had merely changed hands through sales, reclaiming the house wouldn’t cause any official disturbance.

Sha Tong eagerly led her inside, saying, “Watch your step. I came early this morning to check, and the house is in good condition with all the furniture intact, so you won’t need to worry about setting things up. As the weather warms up, we can plant climbing roses on the trellis. When they bloom, you can sit beneath them, enjoying tea and the beautiful scenery. Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

She smiled and entered, holding onto his arm while saying, “Tong, thank you for your long-term care. I’m sorry to have troubled someone like you. I’ve prepared some gifts for you to take later—just a small token of my appreciation.”

Sha Tong anxiously responded, “This is my duty. You’re being too formal with me.”

She stood in the middle path, looking around at the trellis, fish tank, and trees—everything remained as it was before. Yet though the surroundings were the same, the people had changed, and she no longer felt the same connection to the place.

She said, “Now that I’m living back in my old home, I don’t need anyone to serve me. I can take care of myself. Everyone from Jiucu Lane has dispersed, you should go back too! After all, you’re the second steward of the Wang mansion—it’s a waste of your talents to remain here with me.”

But Sha Tong replied, “They may leave, but I cannot. I received orders from the Twelfth Master, and until he recalls me, I must stay with you. There are too many ruffians and hooligans on the streets—you can’t stay alone. My martial skills are decent enough to keep you safe.”

She gently touched a nearby trellis of multiflora roses and said softly, “You stay by my side when I’m alone, but if one day I marry someone, will you still stay? I have no connection with the Twelfth Master now, so it’s not appropriate for you to remain here.”

Sha Tong gritted his teeth and said, “Even if you marry, I won’t leave. As I’ve said, my duty is only complete when the Twelfth Master releases me.”

She glanced at him once and said, “Don’t be stubborn. I cannot keep you here.” When Sha Tong tried to speak again, she ignored him and proceeded to the main room.

Once she made a decision, she rarely changed her mind. She had her reasons for sending him away—having someone from the Chun Wang mansion around would make it difficult to hide her secret for long. Beijing was a big city, and noble households weren’t like hutong homes where neighbors frequently visited each other. Even if rumors about the child spread, the Imperial Clan Court wouldn’t intervene, and no one would come to confront her.

She truly had no one to serve her now. In such a large house, she spent half her days carrying a broom from the front courtyard to the back. For the other half, she would take an afternoon nap, read some books, and sit under the eaves with snacks. This way, three or four months passed quickly.

Her belly grew larger day by day. When her master came to visit, he said this wouldn’t do: “A pregnant woman needs a matron to look after her. If you suddenly go into labor, there would be no one to help you in an emergency.”

Later, she hired two elderly nannies, bought two maidservants from the black market, and arranged for gatekeepers. Gradually, the house began to feel like a home.

She tried hard not to think about him, but when it was quiet, his every glance and smile would flash before her eyes. Khalkha was too far away; if he were in Beijing, she wouldn’t miss him so much. Now she constantly worried about how he was doing and whether he still hated her.

While she could still move about, she made a trip to Hongluo Temple and met Hai Lan, who had become a lay nun.

Hai Lan was shocked to see her protruding belly. “You’re pregnant? You shouldn’t travel so far in your condition.”

She said, “I came specifically to bring you back, sister-in-law. The Twelfth Master has redeemed the Wen family compound, and I’ve moved back to my old home. As you can see, I’m heavily pregnant and don’t have anyone close to care for me. Please take pity and come help me!”

Hai Lan found it strange. “Haven’t you had your wedding with the Twelfth Master? Why have you moved back to your old home?”

She replied with a bitter expression, “No. I lied to him that the child was gone, and in his anger, he led troops to attack Khalkha. So now I’m all alone. If you’re willing to come back, that would be wonderful.”

Hai Lan sighed helplessly: “If Ru Jian were here, he certainly wouldn’t approve of what you’ve done.”

Seeing Hai Lan wavering, Ding Yi quickly opened her bundle and began packing Hai Lan’s things, smiling as she said, “Sister-in-law, you’re so kind to me. I can’t handle the child alone—you must help me. My third brother is gone, so please do this for his sake. You can’t stay in a nunnery forever. Several months have passed; it’s time to move on. Come back to Beijing so we can be close and visit each other often.”

Hai Lan was kindhearted. Seeing Ding Yi pregnant and pleading so sincerely, she finally agreed to return with her. As Ding Yi had said, she would help for Ru Jian’s sake. Life was difficult for everyone; they could at least keep each other warm by staying together.

And so, the two women formed a household. Hai Lan was considerate—though the Su family wasn’t high-ranking officials, they were genuinely wealthy. Despite being raised as a pampered daughter, she wasn’t afraid of hard work and did everything. After busy days, she would find a quiet spot to sit and stare at the spring scenery, lost in thought. Ding Yi knew she was thinking of Ru Jian and gave her a jade pendant.

“This belonged to him—it accompanied him through his travels. I was too busy recently to remember it, so it remained locked in the cabinet. Now you can keep it; when you see it, it’s like seeing my third brother.”

It was a piece of greenish jade with bold, masculine patterns resembling tigers or leopards. Hai Lan held it in her palm, and with teary eyes, forced a smile: “Indeed, he never gave me anything as a token of our love. Now that he’s gone, I don’t even have anything to remember him by when I pay my respects.” She clutched the jade tightly and returned to her bedroom.

Hong Ce had been gone for over half a year. Ding Yi asked her master to inquire about his situation, and reportedly, the war situation was relatively stable. He regularly sent memorials to the Emperor. Life in the field was undoubtedly difficult, but having lived in that region for over ten years before, he should be able to adapt easily. Hearing this, she felt relieved, though a thin thread of worry always remained suspended in her heart—something she had grown accustomed to over time.

She went into labor in October on a beautiful day while sewing baby socks with Hai Lan by the window. Halfway through, she felt a warm flow down her leg and didn’t know what it was. Looking down, she saw her shoes were wet and blushed, “Oh, what’s happening? I’m wetting myself while awake.”

Hai Lan was startled when she saw this. “I think your water broke!”

She quickly called the nannies to summon the midwife, and the household fell into chaos as they prepared for the birth.

With no man present, she was scared but had no one to depend on. Having been through hardships since childhood, she could endure difficulties and bear burdens. Though she had faltered before, she still possessed an unyielding spirit. The midwife said she had never seen such a mother—not shedding a single tear, just biting on a handkerchief until her gums bled, making no sound or cry. The baby’s head was large, causing the mother considerable pain during delivery. She instructed that if something went wrong, they should save the child, not her. Who could remain so clear-headed? Everyone became even more nervous, not wanting anything to go wrong. Finally, with great effort, they brought the child into the world.

When she heard the first loud cry, she finally broke down in tears. Hai Lan came to see her, but she couldn’t stop crying. Clutching Hai Lan’s hand, she said brokenly: “I did wrong… I think of him every day…”

Hai Lan consoled her tearfully, “It will get better. He’ll come back after some time. Your body is weak now; you shouldn’t cry or you’ll damage your eyes.” She took the baby from the nurse and showed him to her. “It’s a boy, and he’s beautiful!”

She opened her eyes to look. The newborn resembled a little mouse, but his features were discernible, and looked very much like Hong Ce. She tiredly raised her hand and gently stroked his little face. “He’s so red.”

The nanny said, “The redness will fade in three days. The redder they are now, the fairer their skin will be later. Look, our young master is a handsome one. When he grows up, he’ll break many young ladies’ hearts.”

She smiled contentedly, thinking hazily that despite eating so many female-fruit-bearing herbs, she still gave birth to a boy!

During her confinement period, she focused on recovery, with daily chicken and pork knuckle soups. One day, Xia Zhi brought a duck, saying he had traded it with a poultry vendor, choosing the fattest one in the cage. He asked whether she wanted it steamed or braised.

Hai Lan came out holding the baby and standing under the eaves, said, “Eating duck during confinement will make your head shake like a duck’s when you’re old.”

Xia Zhi rubbed his nose, “I didn’t know that. Then let the wet nurse eat it!” He stepped forward to peek at the swaddled baby. “Let me see how the young master is doing.”

The baby had just been fed and was sleeping in Hai Lan’s arms. His fair face, rosy lips, and skin as delicate as tofu. Xia Zhi clicked his tongue, “He looks just like that chubby baby holding a fish in the ‘Abundance Year After Year’ painting. Small trees can produce such splendid fruit… Hai Lan, what should he call me? Shouldn’t he call me uncle?”

He lowered his voice and called to the baby, “Stop sleeping! Aren’t you tired of sleeping all day? Call me once, call me uncle.”

Hai Lan smiled, “Babies need to sleep. Sleep helps their brains develop.” She turned around and went inside to use the cradle.

It was time to name the child, but the names she had previously thought of didn’t seem right anymore. Her master said, “There’s no rush. Let’s give him a nickname first. In a few days, I’ll be visiting Miaofeng Mountain, and I’ll ask the temple abbot to help. The abbot is learned; if he gives the name, the child will face fewer hardships and be easier to raise.”

Nicknames weren’t formal, and casual names like “Kitty” or “Doggy” were common. Ding Yi was called “Little Date,” while Ru Jian had an even less pleasant one—”Lump”—which still made people laugh when they remembered it. After much discussion, Ding Yi finally said they should call him “Xian’er” (String). “To remind me to stay alert.”

And so it was decided. Two women raising a child—the child was hope but also trouble, constantly eating and eliminating, keeping them too busy to worry about other things.

Hai Lan particularly envied her, saying, “Having a child is wonderful. When the older generation is gone, he can continue living for you. Our Xian’er is so handsome, truly worthy of his imperial lineage, so lovable.”

Ding Yi would place the child in her arms, saying, “He is your child too. We’ll raise him together, and he’ll call you godmother.” Then, observing her expression, she tentatively asked, “Your relationship with my third brother is in the past. After all, he left you nothing. You’ll need someone to rely on in the future.”

Hai Lan lifted Xian’er and smiled, “I do have someone to rely on! I have my godson. My Xian’er will take care of me in my old age.”

She was just deflecting, unwilling to think about such matters. Now she lived one day at a time, focusing entirely on the child. Ding Yi sighed sadly, turning to see Xia Zhi leaning against a pillar, fiddling with his waist token.

Another New Year approached. Today marked the beginning of the twelfth lunar month. They couldn’t host a formal one-month celebration for the baby, so family members gathered secretly for a meal. They were still waiting for her master. After a while, someone from the front courtyard came to relay a message, bowing slightly: “Master, the Seventh Prince has come again.”

Why “again”? Because she hadn’t received him during his previous visits, as her pregnancy would have been revealed.

The gatekeeper said, “This time he insists on seeing you, saying he has urgent matters to discuss.”

Hearing this, Ding Yi stood up and went to the front hall.

The Seventh Prince wore a “Myriad Blessings and Longevity” hat with a large red tassel on top. When he lowered his head, the imperial beard ornaments swayed by his ears. Seeing her, he exclaimed, “You’ve hidden yourself well! It’s been almost a year since I last saw you. Why have you become plumper? Your face is rounder.”

With both hands tucked under her fur coat, she smiled and curtsied, “Seventh Prince, you’ve arrived? You look well. Please forgive me for missing your wedding. Please come inside and sit—it’s cold out.”

The Seventh Prince responded politely and waddled into the main hall.

Looking around, he stroked his chin and said, “During my previous visits, I was turned away and couldn’t even enter the courtyard to look around. The house is old, but are you comfortable living here?”

Ding Yi served him tea, smiling, “Everything is fine. Living in my own family’s old home feels good. What brings you here today?”

The Seventh Prince said, “Nothing much. I was just strolling around with nothing to do and somehow ended up here. So… you and Twelfth Brother… is it… over?”

She pushed the fruit plate forward. “Would you like some tangerines?”

“I don’t want any.”

As he was about to speak, Ding Yi quickly asked, “How have you been recently? I heard your consort is virtuous and has organized the household well. The Seventh Prince’s mansion is much more orderly than before.”

The Seventh Prince’s expression was between crying and laughing. “My consort… that fierce one… don’t mention it.” He waved his hand, propped up his head, and sighed, “You haven’t seen Jin. That boy has wilted recently. The first thing my consort did upon entering the mansion was to deal with him. She said that when the master is improper, it’s because the servants instigate it. She made Jin suffer terribly—he trembles all over just hearing her cough. Tell me, when has our Wang mansion ever submitted to such dominance? Now we have a formidable presence that no one dares to offend.”

Ding Yi just smiled broadly, looking very pleased, which made him feel even worse.

He was too embarrassed to say that on their wedding night, his consort, Xiaoman, didn’t let him stay in the bridal chamber. She wouldn’t let him touch her—what kind of marriage was that? When Empress Dowager De wanted to check for evidence of consummation, Xiaoman called him over and he was momentarily excited, thinking there was hope. But then she produced a dagger, cut his arm, and let the blood drip onto the silk. It hurt so much! He asked why she didn’t cut herself, and she replied dismissively, “You don’t want to? Aren’t you afraid the Empress Dowager will think you’re weak?” Well, this life had become unbearable.

There was nothing he could do but endure for now. He was now constrained, with Xiaoman like a tight band around his head, not daring to misbehave even slightly. He hadn’t even gotten his wife into bed, yet he was already fearful of her. His consort told him to attend court, to serve in the royal study, to work in government offices—and he obeyed it all. Still, she wasn’t satisfied and scolded him every few days, treating him like a grandson. She forbade him from visiting other women’s quarters, and his secondary consorts and concubines avoided him, fearing deadly consequences.

He looked at her sheepishly. “Shu’er, I’ve recently entered the Grand Council and become close with the Thirteenth Prince. Yesterday, I went to his mansion for drinks, and during the meal, we discussed the situation in Khalkha.”

Ding Yi tensed, leaning forward. “What did they say?”

The Seventh Prince shook his head. “The situation isn’t good. When they first entered Khalkha, our troops were unstoppable—those Tartars were no match, and we captured Adachagha with barely any effort. But perhaps they became overconfident and were ambushed overnight by the Checheng Khan’s forces, caught completely unprepared. Out of 60,000 men, nearly 40 percent were lost. Later, they were pursued, and two major supply camps were destroyed, forcing them to retreat to Deren for reorganization. The Emperor had intended to take Khalkha in one stroke but suffered this great humiliation. Now some at court are using this opportunity to slander the Twelfth Prince, claiming he’s colluding with the Mongols to rebel against the court… Such talk should result in severe punishment for spreading malicious rumors, but the Emperor hasn’t done so. What does that suggest? The Thirteenth Prince also spoke candidly after drinking, saying the Emperor likely suspects Hong Ce. But I know that the deputy commander of the Uliastai garrison is close friends with Hong Zan’s brother—arranging some dirty work would be simple.”

“What can be done?” Ding Yi broke into a cold sweat, her mind going blank. She grabbed the Seventh Prince’s wrist and asked, “Since you know about this, have you informed the Emperor?”

The Seventh Prince nodded repeatedly. “I did speak up, but the Emperor said there was no evidence and that I was making accusations against the garrison commander with just a few words. He severely reprimanded me and drove me out of Yangxin Hall. At this point, the more one tries to defend Hong Ce, the angrier the Emperor becomes, so no one dares to say more.”

She was so anxious that her chest hurt. Pounding the table, she said, “Just a few words? Isn’t he also using just a few words to determine that the Twelfth Prince is colluding with the Mongols? What did the Thirteenth Prince say?”

The Seventh Prince swallowed and said, “That’s why I came today. The Thirteenth Prince has been ordered to supervise the army and will head north in a few days. He carries the Emperor’s handwritten edict and another item—can you guess what it is?”

She stared at him blankly and slowly shook her head.

The Seventh Prince took a deep breath and said in a low voice, “Gold flakes. You once served in the Shuntian Prefecture, so you know what gold flakes are used for without my explanation.”

She collapsed back into her chair, feeling as if her soul had left her body. After a long while, she finally caught her breath and said, “Yes, I know.”