The next morning when he went outside to look, that young fellow was lying by the table leg, snoring away in deep sleep!

The ground was cool, and there were no mosquitoes in the room, so he slept quite soundly. The Seventh Prince approached with measured steps, stopping a zhang away from him. He bent down to look at him—the boy’s face was flushed red from sleep, and truly, his features had a distinctly feminine appearance. However, one glance at his chest and feet immediately dispelled any doubts.

Fine then! He had ordered him to kneel as punishment, yet here he was sleeping peacefully all night. Did he have no respect for his master? He thought about kicking him awake but somehow couldn’t bring himself to do it, so he tried another method instead. The Seventh Prince began to warm up his voice, “Yiii-yiii-yiii—aaa-aaa-aaa—” This finally roused him, and he sat up with a start.

The Seventh Prince approached with his hands behind his back, one corner of his mouth lifted as he asked, “Lord Mu, did you sleep well last night?”

Ding Yi had just awakened, his mind still foggy. Remembering he had spent the night here, he felt oddly relieved. Thinking further, he realized something wasn’t quite right—the Seventh Prince had ordered him to kneel as punishment. He had never done such a task before, and while kneeling, he had somehow fallen fast asleep.

With a pained expression, he said, “Master, I was wrong. You see, I accidentally…”

“You’re quite good at taking care of yourself,” the Seventh Prince snorted, looking at his face which appeared slightly swollen. He remembered punishing servants in his household before. The eunuchs were slick and would barely tap their faces, just going through the motions. Unlike this young fellow, who had genuinely struck himself hard.

“Never mind,” he sighed. “I’m not an unreasonable master. Seeing how well you take care of the birds, I won’t hold it against you.” He nodded toward the birdcage. “Take them outside to see some light. They’ve been cooped up for too many days. Don’t forget to change Phoenix’s sand. Now go.”

Ding Yi responded with an “Aye,” quickly kowtowed in gratitude, and withdrew.

Standing outside to clear his head, he felt rather fortunate. Both princes he had encountered weren’t bad people. Perhaps it was because men were generally magnanimous and not concerned with minor details, not making a big issue of his mistakes—that alone was enough for him to count his blessings.

He carried the two birdcages, found a shady spot to hang them, fed them some soft food and added some water, then stood below talking to the two birds. Red could only call out, while the lark was clever—hearing the rooster crow from the kitchen, it tried to imitate, making Ding Yi laugh heartily.

The laughter pulled at his cheek, not painful but slightly numb. He touched it gently, then headed to the well platform to draw water and wash his face. After washing, he looked up to see Sha Tong coming from under the eaves, carrying a tray with congee and small dishes. He stretched his neck and called out to the attendant, “Is the Twelfth Prince up?”

Sha Tong nodded, “He’s been up for a while, even finished his morning exercises.”

He rubbed his hands together and said, “Have you eaten yet? Let me take this to him! I was supposed to pay my respects to the Prince this morning, and I’ve been wondering how to find an opportunity.”

Sha Tong looked him over and said, “All right, I’ll give you this chance. We’re all familiar faces here, and I don’t want people saying I’m not looking after my brother.” He handed over the tray and tugged at his collar, saying, “I’m going to change my clothes. Mind yourself, and don’t mess things up.” With that, he raised his arm to greet the guard standing at the door, then walked away with measured steps.

Ding Yi took the tray, carrying it carefully as he headed toward the Twelfth Prince’s quarters. Entering the room, he looked around but didn’t see the Twelfth Prince. Without worrying about anything else, he first arranged the bowls and chopsticks. While he was setting things up, he heard the sound of water being scooped from the side room, followed by the Twelfth Prince calling out for Sha Tong.

What should he do? Sha Tong wasn’t there, and if he responded, the Twelfth Prince wouldn’t hear him. After hesitating, he thought it wouldn’t be right not to go in, but if he went in and the Prince was washing up, with his clothes removed… He covered his face—how embarrassing would that be!

He hesitated, but fortunately, there were no more sounds from the side room, so perhaps the moment had passed. He arranged the small dishes on the table as neatly as possible, but in a moment of distraction, that clear voice came again, saying, “Tong, come in.” Perhaps there was something inconvenient, and he needed someone to help.

Ding Yi was caught in an internal struggle. He couldn’t go in—the man was bathing! If he went in, he might get a sty in his eye. But if he didn’t go, he could find a guard instead… While his mind was reasoning this way, his legs weren’t listening to him, and by the time he realized it, he was already at the doorway of the side room. He resigned himself to fate—things had already gone this far, so why be coy? No need to let others notice anything unusual.

He swallowed and plunged into the side room.

The posting station’s windows were propped open with bamboo paper covering them. Such paper was quite translucent, and with the daylight outside, everything inside was visible. Ding Yi looked in and saw the Twelfth Prince bare from the waist up, bending over to wring out a cloth from the basin.

At least he was wearing pants, she thought with relief, though seeing him like this was still embarrassing. She quickly lowered her eyelids, stepped forward, and bowed, “Twelfth Prince, Sha Tong isn’t here. This servant has come to attend to you.”

He turned to look at her, his expression unchanged, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly, “It’s you?”

Naturally, people have their attendants, and not just anyone can step in. Ding Yi’s heart was pounding; even with thick skin, there were times for embarrassment. The way the Prince spoke, she couldn’t tell what he thought, and it seemed inappropriate to stay. She pointed outside, “I was bringing in food for Sha Tong, and just happened to hear you call. I was wondering what you needed… Or should I wait and fetch Sha Tong for you?”

He suddenly reached out and pulled her closer, “Since you’re here, let’s continue.” He handed her the cloth without saying anything, turning his back to her—his bare back facing her—intending for her to wash it.

Ding Yi held the cloth, her hands trembling. The Prince’s build, his skin… She had walked among the common people and seen many poor laborers with bare chests doing hard work—those were backs forged by years and hardship, bent and weathered. But the one before her, though he had experienced difficulties, his status meant he was well-nourished, never having done rough physical labor. His freshness was incomparable to ordinary people.

Nervous as she was, standing frozen wasn’t a solution. She steeled herself and placed the cloth on his back, scrubbing back and forth with moderate pressure. Never having been to a bathhouse or learned proper bathing techniques, she only knew to be thorough. After one pass, she changed to a different part of the cloth, wrung it out, and returned to find him now facing her.

Washing his back was one thing, but his chest was quite another. Ding Yi didn’t know where to begin. Stealing a glance, she immediately felt dizzy. This was too much, too stimulating. Trembling, she held out the cloth, “Prince… here.”

The Twelfth Prince didn’t reach for it, only looked at her, sunlight dancing in his eyes. “You spent the night in the Seventh Prince’s chambers yesterday. Did he give you a hard time?”

Ding Yi was surprised—he even knew she hadn’t returned to her quarters. But the way he directly mentioned her spending the night in the Seventh Prince’s room sounded so awkward! She felt too embarrassed to meet his gaze, her eyes darting left and right as she explained: “I said a few inappropriate things and was scolded by the Seventh Prince. He made me kneel there. I started out kneeling properly, but later somehow… I laid down, so I ended up spending the night there.”

He raised his chin slightly, “Then what happened to your face?”

She had omitted the part about slapping herself, but it hadn’t escaped the Twelfth Prince’s keen eye. Being tall, he had to crouch down to look closely, and she couldn’t avoid his gaze—their eyes met. The Twelfth Prince’s eyes were truly beautiful, even more striking up close. So deep, like water in a lake; looking too long could intoxicate a person. For a man to have such hands, such eyes—even if he were flawed, those flaws couldn’t obscure his radiance.

As for Hong Ce, he not only noticed his face but also tried to understand something deeper in his eyes. He had his suspicions, though he couldn’t voice them yet, but the feeling lingered constantly. There were no women in their quarters, but that didn’t mean he was blind or unaware. Having coordinated with the Ministry of Justice and the Censorate, he had his insights into people’s speech and behavior. This Mu Xiaoshu remained an enigma to him. To call him rough would be completely wrong—his sensitivity and attentiveness surpassed anyone else’s. To call him affected would also be baseless—he was hardworking and diligent, never complaining once during hundreds of li of bumpy roads.

What kind of person was he? It was hard to conclude right away, but he had begun to pay attention. His various behaviors seemed unusual, which was why he couldn’t help testing him, like now.

Ding Yi could never have guessed his calculations. From her perspective, the Twelfth Prince treated her as an insider, caring for her in every way, and seeking justice when he saw her mistreated. She smiled, perhaps without realizing it—a smile as beautiful as a flower in the morning light. She touched her cheek, not wanting to worry him, and spoke in a relatively relaxed tone: “My face? It’s nothing. Sleeping on the ground without a pillow caused some fluid retention and swelling, but nothing serious.”

Only after speaking did she realize again that during this entire conversation, he was still bare-chested! She lowered her eyes shyly. He hadn’t taken the cloth earlier—that meant he wanted her service, right? Princes were accustomed to being attended to; her hesitation might seem abnormal to others. She steadied herself, flipped the cloth in her hand, and with a slap, pressed it against his chest like applying a medicinal patch.

The Prince’s physique was truly impressive. She swallowed hard, her throat making an audible gulp. She quickly looked up to see if he had heard, but thankfully he hadn’t—otherwise, she would have died of embarrassment.

Hong Ce hadn’t expected him to approach so directly. His calves trembled slightly, feeling strangely flustered. “You…”

She responded with a sound of surprise, “What? Is my service not satisfactory?”

It wasn’t that it wasn’t good, just vastly different from what he had imagined. The gender remained to be determined, but if his guess was correct, the person shouldn’t be so composed. He frowned—perhaps he was overthinking. As for why he would overthink, even he couldn’t explain clearly.

Ding Yi maintained her composure, genuinely scrubbing his chest several times. The Prince had the build of someone who practiced martial arts but didn’t appear overly muscular. Everything in this world—people and affairs—required moderation, and moderation brought joy. Her heart was in chaos. Before she could sit face-to-face with the bare-chested Xia Zhi while eating without feeling any discomfort, yet now, with this person who seemed both near and far, she felt particularly awkward and embarrassed.

The silence grew increasingly uncomfortable. She smiled and changed the subject: “Today I need to change the river sand for the birds. Later I’ll ride to the Huan Xiang River to sift some sand. Does the Twelfth Prince like river clams? I can gather some for you. Steamed and shelled, then stir-fried with a couple of eggs by the cook—it tastes wonderful.”

He had never tried what she described, and his focus wasn’t on food anyway. He merely said, “The water is wide in the front section. Be careful if you go alone.”

She replied, “It’s fine. I’ll be cautious, and I won’t get swept away by the water.” Seeing that she had finished washing him, she efficiently took a robe from the nearby clothes rack, held it open to help him put it on, and finally smiled as she bowed, “Then this servant will take leave. There’s breakfast on the table outside, Prince, don’t forget to eat. I’ll go see if Sha Tong is done with his tasks, so he can come serve you.”

The Twelfth Prince nodded, turning his gaze away without looking at her again. Ding Yi had spent this time feeling like she was being pricked by needles—it was by heaven’s grace that she could walk out of this side room alive! She quickly bowed once more, not daring to linger, and soon withdrew.

Only when she was far from the Twelfth Prince’s quarters did she stop, leaning against a pillar to catch her breath. She pondered to herself: the first time she had touched his hands, and this time she had scrubbed both his chest and back. What would be next? Would she have to wash his feet? But the Twelfth Prince’s build… was beyond words. Initially too nervous to look properly, now recalling it hazily, there was still much to savor…

Her mind wandered uncontrollably until she suddenly came to her senses, feeling extremely embarrassed. Was she, a grown woman, awakening to such feelings? In nearly eighteen years of life, she had never felt such nervousness. This sensation was different from being frightened—it was unsettling, boundless, yet constantly lingering in her thoughts. Sweet, sour, bitter, and spicy all mixed together and stuffed into her eyes and throat. She vaguely understood something but couldn’t express it, left only to ponder on her own.

After walking several steps, she looked back. The latticed window of the main room was propped open, with Sha Tong busy serving rice soup and scorched rice cakes. The person at the end of the eight-immortals table had a profile like the most exquisite painting board carved by the most skilled craftsman, every movement naturally elegant.

Ding Yi knew her temperament—she wasn’t one to deceive herself. How things were, she saw clearly. With a long sigh, she smiled bitterly and asked herself, what right did she have? Just because he had saved her a few times? Because he was gentle by nature and treated her with relative ease? None of that mattered. Wasn’t he known for his virtue, his charity, his renowned kindness? He probably wouldn’t be harsh with others either. As for herself, what qualification did she have to dream of such things? Currently, she had a headful of legal troubles that couldn’t be sorted out. Her father’s case had implicated her three brothers—regardless of the truth, getting her brothers out first was the right thing to do.

After moving the birdcage to a suitable place, she rolled up her sleeves preparing to go out. She was looking for a fine-mesh sieve when someone approached from behind and called out, “Don’t bother anymore, quickly give me your tools.”

She turned to look—it was one of the Twelfth Prince’s guards. Without thinking much, she handed it over foolishly, asking, “What for?”

The guard hung the bamboo basket on his waist and said in a booming voice, “Our master says you can’t swim and fears you’ll drown if you go. He wants you to stay at the inn while I go instead.”

Ding Yi stood there stunned, a sweetness rising in her heart. The Twelfth Prince was so considerate—what could she say? She stammered, “This is embarrassing, too much trouble for you.”

The guard waved his hand dismissively—eating the master’s food meant following the master’s orders. Not just sifting sand, if the master told him to carry flowers and dance, he would have to do it.

Ding Yi watched him leave in a daze, then looked back at the latticed window. Inside was perfectly calm; the Twelfth Prince was long gone.