“Tell Guan Zhao Jing to make arrangements,” he said. “Even when not at your master’s side, don’t neglect your filial duties—nothing is more meaningless than forgetting someone after they’re gone.”
Ding Yi let out a sound of surprise, and her heart suddenly filled with sadness. If he had said nothing more, that would have been fine, but who would have thought the situation would take such a sharp turn? Missing an opportunity by a hair’s breadth was perhaps the cruelest thing in the world.
“What can I do…” She sniffled, “Just now the Seventh Prince declared that I should go to his residence to manage the cellar. I was unwilling, so he said if I didn’t go to the Virtuous Prince’s mansion, I couldn’t stay at any other Prince’s mansion either… I originally didn’t want to tell you this, but now that you’ve agreed, I feel especially regretful.”
Hong Ce was somewhat surprised. Hong Tao had a peculiar temperament and didn’t follow conventions. Since he had spoken, it would be awkward for him to insist on keeping her.
“There’s nothing to be done about it.” He leaned back, seeing her dejected expression, and consoled her, “Beijing’s winter is cold, but Ningguta is ten times colder. You haven’t experienced such a severe cold before. If you went there and regretted it later, it would be too late—so it’s better not to go.”
“I’m not afraid of the cold. I just wanted to travel around while I was young… Being alone is lonely, and following you would give me someone to rely on.” She felt quite forlorn, but things had come to this point, and she could only blame her poor luck. She smiled at him again, “Never mind, I’ll just stick to being an executioner. I won’t go to the Virtuous Prince’s mansion to move flower pots either—I’m afraid once I start, I might spend my whole life there.”
So it wasn’t about eagerly escaping her current situation; it was just because she was young and curious about the outside world. This was fine too—not being overly persistent meant living more freely. Since this topic couldn’t continue, they might as well chat about something else. Mu Xiao Shu was an interesting person. Though quite disappointed about this matter, her lips always carried a smile, and she had a stomach full of street slang. Talking with her was never dull. Hong Ce couldn’t remember when he had last been so cheerful. Listening to her talk about her childhood—catching beetles and dragonflies—was vivid, as if the scenes were unfolding before his eyes. Unaware of the time passing, when he looked up, they were already not far from the Shuntian Prefecture office. He quickly composed himself, lowered the curtain, and sat properly with his hands on his knees.
The Prefect, having received the news, hurriedly came out to welcome them. Before the sedan chair had even touched the ground, he deftly swept his sleeves and made a deep bow, stepping forward to lift the sedan curtain, saying enthusiastically, “Your Highness could have summoned this humble official to your mansion. Why trouble yourself to come in this scorching sun?”
“Either you travel or I travel—someone has to make the effort,” Hong Ce said as he alighted from the sedan chair and walked. “Last time you sent documents with seals, a fixed set of procedures, revealing nothing significant. Today I’ve come to examine the case files—a twelve-year-old case. Finding the written records and testimonies won’t be easy, so I’ll give you some time. I’ll wait here.”
The Shuntian Prefect repeatedly acknowledged and led him into the main hall.
The subsequent matters were no concern of hers. Ding Yi hesitated at the entrance for a while, then turned to ask a yamen runner, “A twelve-year-old case? Whose case is it?”
“That I don’t know,” said the runner, leaning against the corridor. “Old cases aren’t like new ones. For new cases, we know where trouble has broken out, get orders to arrest people, and generally understand what’s happening. Old cases have no criminals on hand, just paperwork. They don’t need us; it’s work for scribes and advisors. Let them handle it!”
She felt puzzled. How many major cases from twelve years ago would require a Prince to search so urgently? Connecting it to her father’s case seemed too coincidental. She kept her ears open, wishing she could serve closer to them, but the yamen had specific people for serving tea and water—she had no role there.
Lost in thought, she circled the gatehouse. After a while, she saw Xia Zhi entering with a string of crabs tied with straw. He hung the crabs on a small iron hook where the doorkeeper hung keys, then took the teapot from the table and poured water over each crab to prevent them from drying out and dying, which would make them unpalatable.
The doorkeeper exclaimed, “That’s my freshly cooled water you’re pouring on the crabs!”
Xia Zhi shook the pot, “There’s still some left, enough for you to drink.” He turned to look at Xiao Shu, “You finished early today.” He nudged her with his shoulder and gestured toward the wall, “At the acrobatic grounds near the Altar of the Sun, someone was selling crabs, two coppers for a basket. Look how fat they are, their shells bulging open. Didn’t you say you wanted to buy wine for Master? Look, I’ve already prepared the food to go with it.”
Crabs weren’t rare among common folk—they were everywhere in ditches and paddies. Not particularly large, two ounces at most; anything bigger went to restaurants and mansions. Wealthy people ate crabs with special “crab tools,” picking at them bit by bit, like embroidering. Those without money would just lift the shell, grab the legs on both sides, split it in the middle, and take the first bite of the roe. Like a cow chewing a peony—crude but good with wine.
Ding Yi suddenly remembered, rubbing the back of her head, “I forgot. I’ll go home later to get the gourd.”
“You’re so busy all day, never a moment’s rest,” Xia Zhi sighed, following her gaze. “Ah, you went to the Pure Prince’s mansion again? I see, returning the umbrella, right? You two going back and forth—quite lively indeed.”
Before he could finish expressing his sentiments, Ding Yi had already picked up the water dipper and gone out. She had heard the sound of a wooden stick hitting a barrel—that was a wealthy household performing charity, giving out iced water during the hottest days of summer.
She had always been diligent, and everyone in the yamen quite liked her. For these trivial tasks, the constables and runners were unwilling to move, but she would eagerly take them on. It wasn’t enough to just bring back the iced water; she also poured it out and distributed it. Those who reached out for it praised her, “Our Xiao Shu is so sensible. Young people need to keep active and can’t be lazy. Unlike Xia Zhi—what girl would want to marry him and become a maid?”
She had filled the tea bowls on the table. Two yamen runners were waiting to take them, but unexpectedly, she picked them up and went into the yamen, walking straight to the eastern wing room where Guan Zhao Jing and Advisor Bai were conversing.
“Manager, have some water,” she handed one over, then gave the other bowl to Advisor Bai. Looking back at the main hall, the paper-covered windows obscured the view, but she could see several pairs of official boots moving about—they weren’t finished yet. She blinked and asked, “Have all the case files the Prince requested been retrieved?”
Advisor Bai said, “Not yet. The criminal case advisor is attending to it inside. I’m the revenue advisor, those files aren’t under my management. The Prince has Magistrate Lu from the outer court handling the case. The two of us are free. Usually busy with our duties, it’s rare to meet up,” he said, cupping his hands toward Guan Zhao Jing. “Last time when Xiao Shu entered the Prince’s mansion to seek an audience was my suggestion. It wasn’t a proper matter, and quite troublesome for you. I haven’t thanked you yet.”
Guan Zhao Jing waved his hand, “Mentioning this makes it seem like we’re distant. We’re from the same hometown, and according to maternal lineage, I should call you cousin. This small favor isn’t worth mentioning. Besides, this child is clever; he didn’t specify what trouble his senior apprentice had gotten into. I just passed the message, only later learning what it was about.”
It was a bit of a trick, but fortunately, the Prince didn’t blame him—a close call with no actual danger. Advisor Bai also smiled, “This child has had it tough—no parents, a hard upbringing. With just a master and senior apprentice to rely on, he’s very devoted to them.”
Ding Yi felt embarrassed by the praise and quickly changed the subject, “Is the court reopening a case? I heard it’s a twelve-year-old case. Why decide to sort it out now?”
“It’s been like this in previous years too,” said Guan Zhao Jing. “Which year hasn’t had some activity? Many people, many opinions—today someone is impeached, tomorrow someone faces punishment. No day is quiet. Can’t just eat without working! It’s like laborers at the market—the owner hires you to move bricks and timber. When someone’s watching, you use all your strength; when no one’s watching, you slack off. In officialdom, they seek achievements. Make big waves, and the Emperor will notice you—that’s the opportunity for promotion and wealth.”
She was getting closer to the answer she wanted to know. She contained her anxiety and asked, “Were there any major cases twelve years ago? I lived in Beijing for a while as a child but never heard of any major bandits entering the city.”
Advisor Bai laughed, “Twelve years ago, you were only six years old, just a small child—what could you remember? If it were bandits, the court would have sent troops to eliminate them long ago. Why wait until now? It’s an old account from officialdom—the case of Censor Wen Lu from the Censorate. The Emperor felt it wasn’t investigated clearly, so he issued an edict to dig it up again.”
Ding Yi’s scalp tingled. Her guess was correct—it was her father’s case being reopened. After so many years, to suddenly bring it up seemed almost bewildering. But now everything was unimportant to her—the house sold, family ruined. Even overturning the verdict couldn’t compensate for anything. The dead couldn’t be brought back to life, but those in exile might have a glimmer of hope. The prisoners would inevitably be brought to Beijing for questioning, so without her having to travel far, she could see her brothers.
Her heart pounded heavily. She took a deep breath and said, “I know about Wen Lu. My parents used to work for their family. I heard they had three sons. Are they still alive? If so, they could serve as witnesses!”
Advisor Bai said, “They’ve all been sent to the imperial estates. After so many years, in that poor climate, they were all young masters from good families, likely unable to endure such hardship. Who knows if they’re still alive?”
“Indeed,” she forced a smile. “So will our yamen send people to escort them from the imperial estates? When will they depart?”
Guan Zhao Jing, folding his arms, said, “No need. The Prince will pass through there and resolve the matter along the way. Escorting them back and forth would be too troublesome.”
They were all officials, and the case wasn’t particularly secret, so there was no need to hide anything in their conversation. Now that she had learned all the inside information, Ding Yi felt even more anxious. She couldn’t remain vague about this—she still needed to accompany them. The path through the Twelfth Prince was blocked, so she had to find a way to appeal to the Seventh Prince. He was also an imperial envoy to Ningguta, and since the two brothers would be together, it didn’t matter whom she followed.
But he was someone who devoured people without spitting out the bones. What could she use to persuade him to transfer her from the garden to the guards? He had declared that becoming a geshiha would be easy if she could defeat his two chief guards. Ding Yi sized herself up—she wasn’t even enough to fill the gaps between someone’s teeth. A hard confrontation would not work.
That left only the soft approach—flattery and bootlicking to please him. Perhaps if he was happy, he would agree to take her along.
Having made up her mind, she needed to find out the Prince’s whereabouts. The Seventh Prince was an idle Prince who had gained his title thanks to his mother, Consort De. Sometimes he would visit the Imperial Clan Court and the Imperial Household Department, hold a nominal position, and earn his salary. Of course, even if he did nothing, he wouldn’t lose a single penny. Thus, his rotation had great flexibility. Too hot—he wouldn’t go; too cold—he wouldn’t go; raining—he wouldn’t go; windy—he also wouldn’t go. Calculated this way, he appeared only one or two months throughout the year.
While he might not report for duty, there was one place he had to go. Every early morning, after completing a set of boxing exercises, he would change his clothes and go to Fengya Residence for tea and refreshments. That place gathered many bird-loving banner lords who raised various birds and came together to exchange techniques and show off. The Seventh Prince also raised a bird, a lark. When it first began to sing, its voice was extremely unpleasant. Later, it gradually improved. If told, “Imitate an old man rubbing walnuts,” the bird would make a perfect crackling sound; if told, “Call like a mule,” the lark would howl, stretching its voice and braying loudly, amusing everyone present. The Seventh Prince was in his element in such extravagant places. After spending half a day at Fengya Residence, he would also have his meals there when mealtime came. After eating and drinking his fill, he would go to the Pear Garden to watch operas in the afternoon. Whether eight-cornered drums or Henan clapper opera, he wasn’t picky. When inspired, he would paint his face and go on stage to perform “Second Entry into the Palace,” with people specifically assigned to cheer for him.
Over several days, Ding Yi familiarized herself with the Prince’s schedule—what time he went out, what time he dined, what time he went to the opera house—she had it all recorded. Anyway, it was like trying to revive a dead horse; she had just this one attempt. If it didn’t work, she would honestly settle matters with her master—going to Changbai Mountain was unavoidable this time.