Ji Yingying crouched low as she left, running back to the tree to call Ling’er: “Come with me.”
Knowing the streets well, she led Ling’er through the alleyways, quickly reaching the main street.
When Ling’er saw her buy a brush and head straight for the dye shop, she clutched the money purse tightly: “Miss, Madam forbade you from handling dyes. I absolutely cannot let you buy any.”
“I’m not dyeing silk or cloth! Give me the money!” Afraid Yang Jingyuan might leave, and seeing Ling’er’s hesitation, Ji Yingying impatiently snatched the purse. She counted out sixty coins for a small jar of the poorest quality red dye and another twenty for an ounce of inferior glue.
After making their purchases, Ji Yingying led a panting Ling’er back. Seeing the beautiful white horse still tied at the back door, she finally smiled happily: “Why the long face? I told you I’m not dyeing silk or cloth… I’m going to dye that horse!”
The last words squeezed through her teeth, revealing murderous intent. Ling’er couldn’t help but shiver.
Such a beautiful white horse about to be ruined by her mistress… Ling’er instinctively wanted to dissuade Ji Yingying. But then she thought about how Ji Yingying had finally taken her out and feared truly losing her mistress’s favor if she opposed her wishes again. Steeling herself, she stood watch for Ji Yingying.
There were many types of red dyes used for silk and cloth. The earliest was red ochre powder. By the Spring and Autumn period, it was used on coarse hemp cloth, called zhe garments. Criminals wore collarless zhe garments. Later, cinnabar, madder root, safflower, and sappanwood extracts were used for red dyes.
Red ochre and cinnabar had to be mixed with glue to brush onto materials. Using cinnabar would make it nearly impossible to clean the horse. Ji Yingying wasn’t completely thoughtless—what if Yang Jingyuan caught her and demanded compensation? So she left herself an escape route by buying the poorest quality safflower dye. With such a small jar, she couldn’t soak the horse in it, hence the glue.
Ji Yingying hid behind the tree, poured the glue into the dye, and stirred vigorously with the brush, grinding her teeth: “Young Master Yang, you were lucky to run fast last time. Today if I don’t utterly ruin you, I’m not Ji Yingying!”
Ling’er said worriedly: “Miss, someone who can ride such a horse must be from a wealthy family, right?”
The implication was clear: their modest family shouldn’t provoke those above their station.
Seeing Yang Jingyuan reminded Ji Yingying of his harassment on the Mid-Autumn Festival, and she wouldn’t hear of it: “He’s the one who brought people to harass me on the fifteenth. If he wants me to let him off, no way!”
Hearing this, Ling’er understood—so that was why. That night she and Xiang’er had been terrified searching everywhere. No wonder her mistress harbored such hatred. Her eyes filled with shared indignation as she whispered: “Miss, my late father was a cart driver. I know something about horses. Let me calm the horse first, then you can proceed.”
My goodness, the usually traitorous Ling’er had a brain. Ji Yingying gained some appreciation for her. The two carried the jar of dye, running to the courtyard fence.
“Miss, never stand behind a horse. It might kick!”
Heeding Ling’er’s warning, Ji Yingying stood in front. She watched as Ling’er approached with a smile, extending her palm toward the horse. Her palms were sweaty from running. The white horse, seeing her smile and sensing no ill intent, moved its nose to sniff, then curled its large tongue to lick her palm.
Delighted that the horse didn’t reject her, Ling’er stepped closer, gently stroking its head. She gestured for Ji Yingying to do the same.
Ji Yingying grinned—she quite liked this handsome white horse. She tried reaching out, stroking its body, saying softly: “Good horse, don’t blame me. Blame your master for bringing this on you. I’ll make you look very pretty.”
The gentle-natured horse stood quietly, occasionally nudging Ling’er with its head.
Seeing Ling’er holding the horse’s head and giving her a signal, Ji Yingying was elated. She dipped the brush in dye and began happily brushing away. In moments, the fine white horse became a red-striped zebra.
Mission accomplished, and the people inside hadn’t noticed anything. Ji Yingying retreated with Ling’er.
Ling’er wanted to urge Ji Yingying to leave before getting caught.
“Did he see me brush his horse? Without proof, only a fool would admit to it!” Ji Yingying declared righteously: “How can I be satisfied without seeing his face? Let’s buy some sour plum juice. I’m thirsty after all that work.”
Only four coins remained in the purse. Sour plum juice costs one large coin per bowl, enough for four bowls. Ling’er returned with the bamboo container of juice. They drank quickly, feeling utterly refreshed.
By the time they finished their juice, the sun was overhead. Still no movement from the courtyard.
“Miss, it’s already noon. How long are we going to wait?”
Ji Yingying pondered. What if Yang Jingyuan ate lunch, took a half-hour nap, and dawdled until evening to come out? Should she sit under the tree all day?
Ling’er showed her the empty purse: “Miss, we’ve spent all hundred coins from Madam. We can’t even afford Zhang’s bean jelly now. What will we tell Madam? Let’s go home.”
“No way! I can’t miss the show!” Ji Yingying refused. But with no money, did they want to wait hungry all day? She wasn’t keen on that either.
After some thought, she pulled Ling’er close and whispered in her ear.
“Miss, that’s too risky,” Ling’er became frightened.
“What’s to fear? Come earn money with me.”
Ji Yingying walked confidently to the courtyard’s back door, adjusted her clothes, smiled at the white horse who didn’t yet know its pitiful state, and gestured for Ling’er to knock.
Ling’er nervously clenched her fists: “Miss, my heart’s pounding terribly.”
Ji Yingying glared at her in frustration: “Look at you, might as well write ‘I did it’ on your face. Why so guilty? Nobody saw us. Go knock.”
Ling’er took a deep breath, gathered her courage, and knocked softly: “Anyone home?”
Her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s hum. Ji Yingying grew impatient and called loudly: “Is anyone home?”
Her voice reached inside, and Yang Jingyuan lifted his head, thinking the voice sounded familiar, but from where?
The elderly steward smiled: “There are many aspects of the business to learn, too much for one day. Young Master needn’t hurry, please rest with some tea. This old servant will see who’s at the door and bring you a meal.”
Yang Jingyuan twisted his slightly stiff neck. Who knew business accounting could be so intricate? Such a small ledger revealed so many principles. He closed the book before him, feeling satisfied. It was more enjoyable than his usual revelry. He stood and walked to the window, stretching. Before his arms came down, he saw the bright red outside the fence, his eyes growing wider and wider.
“Xuefeng!”
Yang Jingyuan cried out in distress, rushing from the room like the wind.
At the back gate, the old steward was slapping his thigh, trembling with anger: “Oh my! Which rascal did this? What are we to do!”
Ling’er kept her head down, not daring to look up.
Ji Yingying sighed along: “Indeed, such a beautiful horse, how could anyone bear to do this? Too outrageous!”
Just then, Yang Jingyuan ran out. Seeing the bright red streaks on his beloved white horse, his face turned ashen, his speech stumbling: “What, what is this?”
The horse, seeing its master, snorted and affectionately moved its head toward Yang Jingyuan.
Yang Jingyuan was furious, slapping the horse’s face: “You fool! Getting yourself brushed like this and still so pleased? How could you let someone get so close? I’ve raised you for nothing!”
The horse thought Yang Jingyuan was playing and excitedly kept moving closer. Angered, Yang Jingyuan pushed its head away: “Get away!”
Ji Yingying tried desperately to hold it in but couldn’t contain herself—her laughter burst out like crispy fried soybeans in tofu pudding.
Only then did Yang Jingyuan notice her, turning to meet her laughing face directly.
“The local children are too mischievous. This old servant will take the horse to the river to wash it clean,” the steward, unable to catch the culprit, could only try to comfort Yang Jingyuan. He bowed to Ji Yingying in thanks: “Thank you, young miss, for knocking to inform us.”
Thank her? Seeing Ji Yingying’s triumphant gaze and vengeful smile, Yang Jingyuan was so angry the veins on his neck bulged. He’d be a complete fool not to understand what had happened now.