Wang Daxia thought he had managed to find out Ding Rukui’s whereabouts because he treated everyone to watermelon, but that wasn’t actually the case.
He didn’t know that he had already become a rising star in the Embroidered Uniform Guard. With Lu Ying personally recruiting him and Commander Lu Bing personally “appointing” him, he was essentially an “imperial protégé.” These two factors alone meant he could practically walk sideways through the Embroidered Uniform Guard.
Good family background, handsome appearance, approachable personality, without the arrogance and airs of someone in favor—and when inquiring about a death row prisoner’s whereabouts, he even paid out of his own pocket to buy watermelon for everyone.
Occasionally he could be somewhat inappropriate, unreliable in small matters, and annoying, but he was quite dependable in important matters. Especially that night during the thunderstorm, when Wang Daxia made the Embroidered Uniform Guards put down their shovels halfway through and forced the book boy to dig the grave with his own hands, resulting in a lightning bolt striking the shovel and killing the book boy—the Embroidered Uniform Guards all felt that if not for Wang Daxia, that lightning bolt would probably have struck their own heads.
Later, it was also Wang Daxia who suggested staying overnight at Tian’an Temple and “requisitioned” protective talismans from the temple to distribute to everyone, not just looking out for himself. This undoubtedly earned the Embroidered Uniform Guards’ goodwill, making them feel that Wang Daxia was like the “troublemaker kid” from next door—mischievous, yes, but still tolerable. And he was only fourteen years old, so all those flaws could be explained by his “young age.”
Moreover, both Lu Bing and Lu Ying, father and son, valued and cultivated him. Right from the start, he was a trusted confidant who could freely enter and exit the Commander’s courtyard. In the future, this person would likely become an important figure in the Embroidered Uniform Guard.
Adapting to changing circumstances is human instinct.
Ding Rukui was a death row prisoner that Lu Bing had personally ordered to be “well taken care of.” Ten years of waiting for death without dying—this was the Embroidered Uniform Guard’s little secret. His movements wouldn’t normally be easily revealed to outsiders; even fourth-rank military officers like Chiliarch Chen didn’t know about it. But who told Wang Daxia to be the trusted confidant of both Lu Bing and Lu Ying, father and son?
So the Embroidered Uniform Guard was willing to do Wang Daxia a favor.
Wang Daxia was “popular without knowing it” in the Embroidered Uniform Guard—literally holding a golden rice bowl while begging on the streets!
He also didn’t know that Ding Rukui had such significant backing. Still thinking it was because he treated everyone to watermelon, he smugly returned to claim credit with Wei Caiwei, saying:
“…They said this death row prisoner Ding Rukui is quite special. Lord Lu has ordered that without his personal token, no outsiders can visit this person in the prison cell. However, I’m in luck—tonight Ding Rukui will come out from the prison to the courtyard to pay respects to the deceased. We two can wait in the courtyard like waiting for a rabbit by a tree stump. This way, it won’t be us going to see Ding Rukui, but rather Ding Rukui happening to encounter us. Besides, we indeed won’t be going down to the prison to see him, so it won’t count as violating Lord Lu’s orders.”
Fortunately, Lu Bing had given those instructions this morning before his stroke. Otherwise, forget about Wang Daxia—even Lu Ying couldn’t bring Wei Caiwei to the prison to meet Ding Rukui.
Wang Daxia also got Wei Caiwei a set of clothes worn by low-ranking Embroidered Uniform Guards. “Your mourning attire is too conspicuous at night. Tonight we’re taking advantage of the opportunity when Ding Rukui comes out to perform sacrifices, so we need to keep a low profile.”
Wang Daxia was bold yet careful. Wei Caiwei saw the shadow of the previous life’s Eastern Depot Director.
When Wang Daxia saw Wei Caiwei staring at him blankly with tender eyes, he quickly crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive posture. “Don’t try to take advantage of me. I’m saving my pure body for my future wife. I’m not a casual person.”
Actually, Wang Daxia wasn’t entirely being narcissistic. His intuition wasn’t wrong: though Wei Caiwei always verbally disdained and refused to admit it, in her heart she actually liked him—in the previous life. It’s just that now Wang Daxia’s physical body hadn’t changed, but his soul had become thirty-something years younger, having not experienced the tempering of storms. Wei Caiwei, with the slightest “carelessness,” began to transfer her affections.
Wang Daxia was like a magnet, with the magnetic field being Director Wang from the previous life. Wei Caiwei was like a needle—as long as the magnet emitted its magnetic field, no matter how deeply the needle was hidden, it would whoosh and be attracted, firmly sticking to the magnet.
Hard to resist a lifetime’s deep affection.
Oh no! She was getting carried away again.
Wei Caiwei quickly looked away, coughed twice dryly, and stubbornly argued: “Don’t misunderstand. The effects of my medicine haven’t worn off yet. Sometimes my head feels dizzy and blank, and I just stare at one spot without moving. I was just spacing out—you’re in my eyes but not in my heart.”
“That’s good then.” Wang Daxia released his arms that had been crossed over his chest. “Zhou Xiaoqi is truly vicious—he must have added some kind of potent ingredient to the drug that knocked you out.”
Wei Caiwei said perfunctorily, “You go out. I need to change clothes.”
After Wei Caiwei finished changing and was dressed as a low-ranking soldier, Wang Daxia knocked on the door from outside. “Are you done changing?”
Wei Caiwei smoothed the wrinkles on her clothes. “You can come in now.”
Wang Daxia pushed the door open and entered, still holding a thick tree branch with a fork in his hand.
This afternoon, Wei Caiwei had seen him being childish, squatting under the shade of a tree pulling grass to play with ants. Now he was holding a thick stick—was he planning to… climb onto roofs and remove tiles?
Wang Daxia took out a handkerchief, wrapped it around the rough fork several times, tied a tight knot, and handed it to Wei Caiwei. “This way it won’t hurt your hand. I’m giving you a walking stick—I just cut it from a tree. With this walking stick, you won’t need me to support you.”
On Wang Daxia’s first official day of duty at the Embroidered Uniform Guard office, he had done nothing but nap in the guest room and cut a tree branch. Borrowing flowers to present to Buddha, he gave it to Wei Caiwei as a walking stick.
Wei Caiwei took the walking stick with all its rough edges wrapped in the handkerchief, used it to support herself as she stood up, and took two steps.
The walking stick was made very well—not too long, not too short, just right for her height, as if it were custom-made.
The aura of her deceased husband from the previous life immediately shone on young Wang Daxia again. Wei Caiwei looked at him with eyes like a spider spinning silk—countless threads of affection flowing with tender feelings, firmly ensnaring him with no escape.
In Wang Daxia’s view, this little widow always looked at him with eyes that seemed to have hooks, making his young man’s heart jump like a frog, thump-thump-thump.
Wang Daxia covered his chest, trying hard to suppress the frog in his heart: Oh my, I can’t let my heart be moved like this.
Our statuses are vastly different—it’s impossible. I’ve said countless times already, don’t be crazy about me. Why won’t you listen?
I’m going to inherit my family’s chiliarch title. My future wife must definitely be a refined lady from a prestigious family.
If you keep looking at me like this, I’ll… stop playing with you.
Wang Daxia said: “I’m giving you this walking stick because it’s improper for men and women to have physical contact, so I can’t support you. There’s absolutely no other meaning—don’t misunderstand.”
Being righteously rejected by her deceased husband, Wei Caiwei quickly withdrew her gaze and looked down at her new walking stick. “I didn’t misunderstand. Thank you. When my body recovers, I’ll make ten packets of cooling plums to thank you.”
Wang Daxia breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s more like it.”
Though he said this, why was there a faint disappointment in his heart?
Dusk had fallen, and the clear moonlight cast a cold glow over the mortal world. The evening breeze blew, and there seemed to be a faint fragrance of gardenia in the air.
Figuring that Ding Rukui’s nighttime memorial was nearing its end, Wei Caiwei went out leaning on her walking stick, with Wang Daxia maintaining a distance of two people between them as they walked side by side through the air.
In the southeastern corner of the large courtyard used for drilling soldiers, Ding Rukui threw the last bundle of paper money into the fire basin to burn, in memorial of the loyal Wei Nanshan couple.
This family had served the Ding family as household servants for several generations, originally of slave status. In Ding Rukui’s generation, they were granted freedom out of benevolence, yet Wei Nanshan continued to serve the Ding family. This type of respectable servant was called a family retainer.
From Minister of War to death row prisoner—what former friends and colleagues, what fellow examination graduates and mentors—in the end, those who remained loyal and never abandoned him were actually family retainers of humble origins.
Ding Rukui silently prayed in his heart, then took out a thousand-character eulogy that he had spent a whole day carefully writing, and burned it for the Wei Nanshan couple underground.
When he was Minister of War, many people offered a thousand taels of silver, pulling various connections to ask him to write eulogies, epitaphs, and such. They would have to wait from the beginning of the year to the end—and he might not even be willing to accept.
Now his writings were only burned for loyal servants.
Having not seen daylight for ten years, even seeing moonlight was precious. Ding Rukui threw the eulogy into the fire basin and looked up greedily at the moonlight.
The moonlight was truly beautiful.
Ding Rukui didn’t blink even once, engraving the scenery outside in his mind. This was a beautiful memory—even if his name were crossed out by the imperial brush at the end of this year and he were dragged to the vegetable market for execution, it would be worth it.
“Uncle Ding.”
A voice sounded from behind.
Ding Rukui turned around to look—it was two low-ranking Embroidered Uniform Guards. One of them was leaning on a walking stick, with delicate features and looking somewhat unwell.
Ding Rukui recalled the past but couldn’t remember who this was.
Wei Caiwei said: “I am Wei Nanshan’s adopted daughter, named Wei Caiwei. Ten years ago during the Gengxu Rebellion, when there was great chaos in the outskirts of the capital, I was separated from my family. While wandering, I was adopted by the Wei Nanshan couple, and together we went to Tieling. Ding Wu has always been thinking of you. When I came to the capital, he entrusted me to bring you a message—he is well, found a position at the Tieling county office, can support himself, and is living peacefully. Please don’t worry about him.”
Ding Rukui suddenly recalled that this morning Lu Bing had suddenly visited him and asked about Wei Nanshan.
Lu Bing never spoke idle words. His words this morning must have had some purpose.
Ding Rukui saw that Wei Caiwei was wearing Embroidered Uniform Guard clothes. With no evidence to support her words, and with the Wei Nanshan couple already dead and their son Ding Wu far away in Tieling, unable to leave the place of exile for the rest of his life, who could verify that what Wei Caiwei said was true?
Ding Rukui had gone from Minister of War to death row prisoner, witnessing the fickleness of the world and the coldness of human relationships. He wouldn’t be moved by just Wei Caiwei’s words.
Who exactly was this woman? What was her purpose? She was wearing Embroidered Uniform Guard clothes and could appear when he was paying respects to the deceased—was she Lu Bing’s person, deliberately sent to test him?
Ding Rukui was first excited, then calmed down. He ignored Wei Caiwei and said to the prison guard: “Thank you all for bringing me up tonight and helping set up the altar. I have finished my prayers and can go back now.”
“Uncle Ding, I truly am Ding Wu’s friend.” Wei Caiwei hurriedly leaned on her walking stick to follow, but Ding Rukui’s attitude was cold: “Don’t think you can use Ding Wu to threaten me. I’m a death row prisoner—if you come any closer, are you trying to stage a prison break?”
Once bitten by a snake, one fears well ropes for ten years. Back then, Ding Rukui had believed Yan Song’s words: “As long as I remain the Grand Secretary, nothing will happen to you.” The result was his wife’s death, his son’s exile, and his family’s destruction. Learning from this painful experience, Ding Rukui dared not trust anyone again.
Prison breaks resulted in being shot on the spot. Wei Caiwei had no choice but to stop.
Ding Rukui followed the prison guards away, his five-pound leg shackles dragging on the ground, making clanging sounds.
Wei Caiwei’s words had failed to move Ding Rukui, but they inexplicably stirred up waves of jealousy in Wang Daxia, who fired off five consecutive questions: “Who is Ding Wu? How old is he? Is he handsome? Is he better looking than me? What’s your relationship with him?”
Author’s Note: Fortunately, the male lead isn’t Ding Wu—otherwise this would become a Tieling Ivory Mountain love story.