Ding Yi expressed her thanks as Sha Tong pointed inside, then withdrew and gently closed the door behind him.

Inside the hall stood a throne with a protective screen, two bright lamps standing tall, illuminating the gold-threaded longevity patterns on the pillow until they gleamed brilliantly. However, the Twelfth Prince was nowhere to be seen. After Sha Tong had led her in and left, his directions had been rather ambiguous. She took a few steps forward and called out, “Where is Your Highness?” The hall was spacious, and her voice echoed like thunder, startling herself. Suddenly she remembered he couldn’t hear, and Sha Tong had mentioned they were preparing to settle him in, so he was probably in the bedchamber.

In the bedchamber? Recalling the scene when she had scrubbed his back previously, her heart began to race uncontrollably. If she were to encounter such a situation again… She cupped her face and giggled. It wasn’t a big deal; it wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen it before. The first time is always awkward, but the second time becomes familiar.

Gathering her courage, she approached the inner chamber’s flower-patterned door, paused briefly, then pushed it open. Behind the layers of curtains was a figure with his back to her, dressed in a loose, bamboo-patterned robe for sleeping, his hair tied with a pearl band. From behind, he looked relaxed and elegant, with an air of being detached from worldly concerns.

She suddenly felt a bit awkward—a young woman entering a man’s bedroom would naturally feel embarrassed. A hot flush spread across her face, but she steadied herself and walked forward, lightly tapping his shoulder.

When they were alone together, there was always a subtle warmth surrounding them. It was hard to explain; there was no deliberate effort to create it, just a simple joy. He turned around with a somewhat ambiguous smile and asked, “Coming so late, do you have something to discuss?”

Ding Yi swallowed. The Twelfth Prince was a feast for the eyes, appearing even more fair and translucent in the lamplight. In her previous social circles, she had been surrounded by rough men with dark faces covered in sweat, with acne-like sesame seeds scattered randomly on baked flatbread. The Twelfth Prince, on the other hand, was like the first snow from a glazed world falling on tiles, pure and untainted.

She was so entranced that she forgot to speak, but this master was patient and didn’t rush her. He gently touched her shoulder, led her to a stool to sit, and then leaned against the mother-of-pearl cabinet, saying nothing but simply smiling at her. Ding Yi suddenly realized she had been in a daze and hadn’t even greeted him properly. She hurriedly rose, but he quickly said there was no need for formalities. “We see each other several times a day; there’s no need to be so rigid. I just asked why you came. Could it be just to see me?”

She froze for a moment, then blushed and averted her gaze, saying it wasn’t so. The banknotes in her hand had become frayed from her fidgeting. Like a hot potato, she thrust them forward and said, “Your servant has come on the Seventh Prince’s orders to repay you. The Seventh Prince says thank you for repeatedly spending money and effort to help him with various matters. He feels indebted… Including the fine dog from before, he has converted everything to cash for you, totaling three thousand taels. Please see if it’s sufficient.”

Hong Ce naturally wouldn’t accept it. Hong Tao was a straightforward person; what he was thinking was crystal clear to Hong Ce. Was he trying to settle accounts so he could be free of any obligations? Not only did he refuse his kindness, but he even sent her to deliver the money, putting her in a difficult position between them. This was just like the Seventh Brother’s narrow-mindedness.

He said, “Is the Seventh Prince planning to cut ties with me? How can there be no give and take between brothers? Why make us seem less connected than mere neighbors in the market?”

Ding Yi couldn’t respond to this directly. She evaded by saying, “It’s not like that. The Seventh Prince just doesn’t like me causing you trouble. I’m now under his banner, and he thinks it’s embarrassing when his servant runs to you whenever there’s a problem. I’ve come firstly to deliver the banknotes, and secondly to thank you. Rest assured, the Seventh Prince didn’t scold me this time. He’s a reasonable master who understands I was set up and didn’t use it as an excuse to make things difficult for me. If you accept the money, you and your brother will be even, but to me, you’ll still be my benefactor.” She pushed the banknotes forward again, pleading, “Please accept them. Otherwise, I can’t give my master a proper account, and he’ll say I can’t get things done, that my head is just for show.”

She was doing her best to smooth things over for her master, and he could see that she was a loyal servant. As for him, he never intended to take back the money. Though they didn’t share the same mother, they at least had the same father. If he accepted the money, wouldn’t he be acknowledging that Hong Tao didn’t value brotherly affection, and be tacitly agreeing to that stance?

She held out both hands, looking constrained. He glanced at her and said, “I cannot accept this money, not just for the Seventh Prince’s sake, but also for the sake of your dignity.”

Ding Yi smiled awkwardly, “I’m just a servant; what dignity do I have? If you don’t accept it, I can’t report back to my master. The Seventh Prince was quite clear—if I fail at this task, he’ll punish me severely.”

Though she was exaggerating, it wasn’t far from the truth. With the money in her hands, she truly didn’t know what to do. If only the Twelfth Prince would nod in agreement, she would feel completely relieved.

“In that case, keep it for yourself!” He turned away, pretending to pace about, the pleated hem of his robe opening and closing like a fan with each step.

Ding Yi felt as if she had thorns in her back and quickly said she wouldn’t dare. “Twelfth Prince, please don’t put me in a difficult position. If you accept it, I can go back with a proper report. Otherwise, what am I supposed to do?”

He smiled and said, “You haven’t pocketed the money yourself, yet you bear the name of it. You might as well make it real, so you won’t feel wrong. Whether you owe someone a favor or a debt, when there are too many, you cease to worry. What are you afraid of? Or would you rather be indebted to the Seventh Prince than to me?”

Logically, it didn’t matter who the creditor was; it would simply be split in two—she would still owe the Twelfth Prince a favor while owing the Seventh Prince three thousand taels. Three thousand taels! Rich people might deal in such large sums easily, but for her, it was like falling into a well with no way to climb out. The thought made her want to cry.

She shook her head and said, “But I can’t keep this money dishonestly. What would that make me? Please stop teasing me, or I’ll have to kneel before you.”

As she spoke, her knees were about to bend, but he quickly extended his hand to stop her. “Even if there’s no gold beneath your knees, don’t demean yourself. I’m not teasing you. I sincerely want you to keep it. Having money gives you confidence. Don’t you still have a master to care for? There will be many occasions where you’ll need to spend money in the future.”

She replied, “It’s alright. My master isn’t the type who likes to spend a lot. I can earn a bit here and there, and the two of us can live quite well.”

He smiled helplessly, “Earn a bit here and there? By plastering walls for others, or playing drums at weddings and funerals?”

She grinned and said, “What’s wrong with that? Isn’t that how common folk live? Finding work throughout the four seasons, and when there’s no work, waiting for the crops to ripen in the autumn, picking and stealing…” She let slip something she shouldn’t have and smiled sheepishly. “Someone like me is considered a craftsman; I can earn money quite quickly. Don’t pity me. Besides, I now have a proper position in the Seventh Prince’s household. My annual salary in silver, along with millet conversion, amounts to thirty-seven taels, much more than what I earned at the teahouse.”

“Thirty-seven taels a year, with a debt of three thousand taels. Without eating or drinking, it would take eighty-one years to repay. Have you calculated that?” He looked directly into her eyes. “If you owe me money, I’ll only collect the principal, with no interest. Isn’t that good?”

Ding Yi looked desperate. “Eighty-one years… I couldn’t repay it even if I lived my entire life.”

“Then repay it for a lifetime. When you die, the debt dies with you… If only I had known earlier, I should have had you enter my household. Why did you end up at the Seventh Prince’s door?” He sighed. “Since the Seventh Prince insists on settling accounts, I have no reason to refuse. It’s just that this money, once returned, feels tainted. That’s why I want you to keep it. It would put my mind at ease.”

Ding Yi was caught in a dilemma. She waved her hands and said, “Please don’t do this. You helped me when I was in trouble, and in the end, I still owe you thousands of taels. What kind of person would that make me?” She placed the banknotes on the kang table and stepped back. “I don’t want your money. I already owe you a favor and will repay you when I have the chance. As for the Seventh Prince, I am his servant after all. He even said my son would be his household-born slave. If I can’t repay it in my lifetime, my son will continue to repay. There will come a day when it’s all settled.”

She had a big heart and had been tempered by hardship, overturning all his previous perceptions of women. Since returning from the bird market, their interactions had utterly astonished him. He had speculated about her gender and made countless plans in secret. When it was suddenly confirmed, his heart settled back in his chest, but his thoughts continued to drift in midair. Was she pitiful? There were many pitiful people in this world, but she was unique. No wonder those guards had joked with her that time, and she had bristled like someone had stepped on her tail. Thinking about it now, it was indeed hard on her.

But why would a perfectly good young woman disguise herself as a man? What was her purpose? His curiosity now outweighed that inexplicable affection. Even if he liked her, he wanted to like her with complete clarity. With a layer of deception between them, feelings couldn’t be pure; they would require repeated testing.

He stepped back, nodded, and said, “Very well. Since you insist on not taking it, let it be. Whenever you’re short of money, come back and take it. It’s all the same.” He turned to a treasure cabinet, opened a small double door, and took something out to give to her.

Ding Yi didn’t know what it was and hesitantly accepted it. It was a rhinoceros horn comb and a fine white porcelain bottle. She shook it—it seemed to contain hair oil. Her heart pounded heavily, and she looked at him in shock, but his expression remained calm, showing no significant change.

Had he discovered something? She stammered, “Twelfth Prince… why… why did you think of giving me this?”

Hong Ce clasped his hands behind his back and said, “It’s inconvenient when you’re traveling. Those Kosha don’t comb their hair, and when the wind blows, their heads are all messy. Don’t be like them.”

Ding Yi held the items, standing awkwardly rigid. One hand unconsciously smoothed her hair. She said embarrassingly, “I understand. I’m too slovenly, and it displeases you.”

He turned his head away and said calmly, “Among all those guards, you don’t see me giving combs to anyone else. I’ve heard that when a woman takes a fancy to a man, she gives him a comb as a token of affection. Now, when a man gives another man a comb, there shouldn’t be such implications, right?”

This was completely out of context. She didn’t quite understand those romantic sentiments, like giving combs as tokens of love—she had never heard of such things. Now the Twelfth Prince was leading the conversation in that direction, leaving her unsure how to respond.

She stood dumbfounded, not speaking. The Twelfth Prince tilted his head to observe her, his eyes sparkling like stars in the lamplight. He said, “What’s wrong? Haven’t you used hair oil before? Dip the comb in it and slowly comb, one bit at a time, to gather all the stray hairs… If you really can’t manage, shall I help you?”

“No, no…” she hastily declined. “Thank you for your gift, Twelfth Prince. I’ll figure it out slowly by myself. I wouldn’t dare trouble you.” A girl’s love for beauty is natural; she lowers her head, caressing the bottle. The slender body of the bottle exuded elegance, and she couldn’t let go of it. She smiled and said, “To be honest, I’ve never used hair oil before. People who do odd jobs don’t have such luxuries. In the morning, I just give my hair a quick run-through and that’s it. There’s no time to comb properly. I once heard a neighbor tell a story about the Eastern Peak Temple. In the Nine Netherworlds and Eighteen Hells, there’s a tale that if you use too much hair oil, after death, the little ghosts will hang you upside down, pull your hair, and let the oil drip down. The bowl collecting the oil has no bottom, so it can never be filled, and you’re left hanging there year after year.”

He laughed and said, “That’s just to scare people, to persuade young women to buy less hair oil and be more frugal.”

“I know.” She smiled with her lips pressed together, dimples filled with joy. “Ah, I’ve never used this before in my life…”

Hong Ce observed her expression and heaved a long sigh. It was just a bottle of hair oil, yet it made her happy for half a day. So easily satisfied—he couldn’t find anyone like her in his circle. The hardships she had endured couldn’t be simply described in words. While others were appreciating flowers or playing chess, she was sweeping up blood at the execution ground. Raising her head in the swirling dust, she could still smile as brilliantly as the morning sun. Not feeling sorry for herself, but living tenaciously. Those princesses and young ladies from noble families would panic at the sight of a single insect; if they were to go to the execution ground, several of them would likely die of fright.

Outside, the night watchman’s clappers sounded, and Ding Yi suddenly realized it was getting late. She hurriedly bowed and said, “I’ve kept you from resting; I should leave now. Thank you for today. I’ve thanked you so many times the words are almost worn out…” She held up the horn comb and porcelain bottle again. “And thank you for these. I’ll use them right away.”

“The hair oil is secondary; keep the comb safe.” He escorted her to the door. “It’s not far from here to his camp. Can you walk by yourself? Would you like me to accompany you?”

She smiled and said, “You honor me too much. How could a prince escort a guard? People would laugh. Please stay here; I’ll be on my way.”

As she was about to step over the threshold, he suddenly pulled her back, his fingers hooking onto her arm. He felt the delicate contours beneath her coat, but only for a fleeting moment before releasing his hand. He said softly, “We’ll be on the road again tomorrow. Are you feeling better? Is your stomach still hurting?”

Ding Yi paused. Women’s ailments were difficult to explain to him, so she vaguely said, “Thank you for your concern, Twelfth Prince. I’m all better now. See how active I am again? Please go inside; it’s late and dewy, and you might catch a cold.” She turned her wrist and gently pushed his arm. “Go back. The path is well-lit; I won’t stumble.”

He stood at the threshold watching her until she gracefully passed through the hanging flower gate before returning to the hall. Recalling his feelings just now, it was like seeing someone off for eighteen li. He stroked the spot where she had touched him, his heart filling with a sense of melancholy.