These words showed some vulnerability, and as they looked into each other’s eyes, both felt embarrassed.

Ding Yi was a forthright person. Afraid he might feel awkward if she acted coy, she pretended not to notice and smiled, “No need to tuck me in. I sleep quite still. My nursemaid said I don’t like to turn over when I sleep—whatever position I fall asleep in, that’s how I’ll be when I wake up… It’s getting late. I’ve kept you up all night. Are you tired?”

“I’m a man, not so delicate,” he said with a smile. He finally reached out and took her hand. “You see, now that we’re committed to each other, I just want to look at you without taking my eyes away. In my twenty-four years of life, this is the first time I’ve felt someone could be so close to me. Right now, my heart feels so warm that even if I lay down, I couldn’t sleep. I remember before leaving the capital, you read my palm and said my love star would activate within three years. I never expected you’d be so accurate.”

Ding Yi covered her face, giggling, “That was all made up! I can’t believe you believed it. Don’t look too much—look too often and the novelty wears off. In the future, you might feel sick just seeing my shadow. Why bother?” Though she was teasing, her heart felt the same. Her fate had been unkind—she’d lost her parents and brother. Though her master cared for her during her six years as an apprentice, she had to hide and conceal her true feelings, ultimately remaining lonely. Now, having been blessed with this good man who fell from the sky, she cherished him so much she was afraid he might slip away. If he wanted to look at her, she would put up her hair and let him look his fill. She just wondered how long this affection would last—whether he would still feel this way after three or five years.

She pulled him into the room, saying softly, “We’re young now. In a couple of years when wrinkles appear, don’t look too closely. Just remember how I looked during these good times.”

A strand of hair fell across her brow. He tucked it behind her ear and smiled, “Wrinkles are far off. I read your face—you’ll maintain your beauty for at least twenty more years, and enjoy prosperity for sixty years.”

She laughed, “In twenty years, I’ll be nearly forty. Being beautiful at forty would make me an old enchantress. I worry because I’ve always felt my fate was poor. Back then, my relatives all said I was bad luck—that I caused my parents’ deaths and drove my brother away. With only me left in the family, they said whoever took me in would face misfortune. So they kept driving me away, not even letting me cross their thresholds. Sometimes I wonder if they were right—that I truly bring calamity, and whoever I get close to suffers. Now that you think so highly of me, I’m both happy and worried. If I bring you misfortune, though it’s not my wish, I’ll blame myself for a lifetime if you suffer.”

As she rambled on, the cold treatment she had received in the past pained his heart. He helped her up onto the kang’s footrest, arranged the bedding for her to get under the covers, and said, “Don’t talk nonsense. A whole family dying is fate. The fact that you alone survived shows your great fortune—how does that make you bad luck? They didn’t want to take you in because by then, the Wen family’s property had all been sold. You were alone with nothing—you can’t squeeze oil from a stone. Try it when a family is prosperous—show up with property and land deeds, and wouldn’t they welcome you with open arms? This world is full of opportunists. Even close sisters, let alone distant relatives, might not give you a good welcome if you sought refuge with them. At most, they’d give you a few taels of silver and ask you to leave. Human relationships are fickle, and the world is callous. That’s just how it is.”

She lay on the pillow, watching him pull up a stool to sit in front of the kang as he spoke. The warm smile on her face became difficult to hide.

He had sat down while tucking in her blanket. Having known him for several months, how had she never noticed his tendency to say one thing and do another? Prince Chun was a flesh-and-blood person, not a hanging portrait or a solemn memorial tablet. At twenty-four, he was in the prime of his vibrant youth—this was how he should be.

She said gently, “I know better. I’ve decided not to associate with them. They live in Bicai Hutong. I often pass by there on duty, but I never even look their way. When the older generation dies, connections grow more distant. They don’t think of me, and I don’t think of them.”

He nodded, “You’ll see—one day they’ll come knocking at your door. Banner families have old customs: they may short-change sons but never daughters. A daughter’s future is unpredictable—she might rise dramatically in status with boundless prospects. In your case, it’s coming true. Though we won’t be entering the palace as an empress, being on equal footing with the empress and consorts is no less impressive.”

Hearing him speak this way, her heart began to race. She had never dared to think so far ahead—talk of being “sisters-in-law” made it sound as if she and he were already committed. A young girl still had thin skin, unlike men who dared to think and speak boldly. She lowered her head, rubbed the corner of her clothes, and mumbled, “You sound like my master. He said the same thing—that my lady’s prospects were limitless…” She glanced at him fleetingly, her face flushed to her ears. “Don’t speak so casually about such things. Others might laugh if they heard.”

Before, when she disguised herself as a man, she had held her head high like a young lord. Now, having reverted to her true form, she was just a girl, every movement revealing shyness and charm. He felt dizzy as he moved, rising from the stool to sit on the edge of the kang. Her arm was resting on top of the covers; he attentively lifted it and tucked it under the blanket. “Don’t catch a cold…”

Such a gentle and considerate person was hard to find anywhere in the world. Before he could withdraw his hand, she innocently held onto it, wanting to ask if he was cold. But he leaned forward and pecked her lips. He didn’t indulge recklessly—it was brief. His warm palm cupped her face, forehead pressed against hers, and he said, “Ding Yi, for us to have a proper future together, I’m afraid there’ll be many twists and turns. No matter how many obstacles we face, remember that I hold you in my heart. Even if I were to lose my clan status, I would still marry you.”

She trusted him. She had been prepared not to ask for official recognition—to be able to do so openly would be an unexpected joy, but if not, she wouldn’t suffer or complain.

She reached out to stroke his back. “Let’s take things as they come, without forcing anything. Forcing matters only leads to unhappiness. Before, I worked hard jobs going from street to street. I hadn’t met you then, but wasn’t I still living well?”

He smiled bitterly, “Actually, I’m the anxious one, afraid Old Seven will take you away. He’s quick-witted. If one day he tricks you and you change your mind to follow him, I’ll have nothing left.”

“Nonsense! He was pouring out his sorrows to me before you did. If I had wanted him, what would it have to do with you?” she said softly. “Though I come from humble origins, I’m not willing to entrust myself to just anyone.”

He caught her meaning and teased, “You’ve had feelings for me all along, waiting for me, haven’t you?”

This she could never admit. Being caught out made her face burn with embarrassment. She hurriedly shrank under the covers, hiding her head, saying, “That’s not true… I’m tired and want to sleep. Do as you please!”

He just smiled, sitting on the edge of the kang without getting up. His previous words were just teasing. He couldn’t remember when he had started to have feelings for her—probably earlier than she had for him. Perhaps it was on that rainy day, or on the way to the Shuntian Prefecture… He understood Old Seven’s feelings. At first, not knowing she was a woman, he truly suspected himself of being homosexual. The brothers were stubborn—all the men in the Yu Wen family were stubborn—which made conflicts between them especially troublesome.

Ding Yi remained covered under the blanket. His bedroll carried the faint scent of his body. She heard nothing but the thunderous beating of her own heart. There was no sound from outside—had he left? She slowly peeked out, looking outward, and met his clear, gentle eyes. She puffed her cheeks and asked, “Why haven’t you left yet?”

He said, “I want to look at you a bit more. You sleep. I’ll leave after you fall asleep.”

Her arm emerged from under the blanket. The sleeve was wide, and as she raised it, her snow-white arms appeared soft as clouds in the lamplight. She said, “Hong Ce, hold me.”

At that moment, his mind went blank. He lifted her body—she was thin and weightless. Pressed against his chest, he felt his entire ribcage convulsing. A sour yet sweet sensation overcame him as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

With nothing but a deep sigh, he found her lips. Not daring to be reckless, he tasted briefly and stopped. When you love deeply, you fear causing harm; the more you cherish, the more cautious you become. He lingered at her lips, knowing that continuing this way would lead to trouble. He wanted to pull away but truly couldn’t bear to, requiring great determination to finally separate from her. Her gaze was dreamy as she lay on the pillow, breathing slightly heavily. He didn’t dare look at her again, hurriedly stepping down from the footboard, saying hastily, “It’s too late… get some rest.” He lifted the felt curtain and quickly left.

The next day brought continued snow and wind. The weather was too harsh for the convoy to proceed, so they delayed another day at the imperial estate.

Outside it was bitterly cold. In the prince’s room, there was a brazier. The red plum blossoms arranged on the table had bloomed overnight. The Seventh Prince stood before the table, completely perplexed.

The door curtain was lifted, and Na Jin entered with his hands tucked in his sleeves. The cold wind had blown in for a while, and when it met the warm air, the tip of his nose itched. He sneezed about ten times in succession, like a chicken having its throat cut. Normally, the Seventh Prince would curse at such earth-shattering noise, but today he remained silent, muttering to himself, “It’s blooming—a good omen!”

Na Jin hadn’t heard clearly. He came over, sniffling, and said indistinctly, “In such heavy snow, the Twelfth Master’s people still went out on business. They’re working hard.”

The Seventh Prince didn’t respond to him. With fixed eyes and a smile on his face, Na Jin looked at him from the side and found it somewhat eerie. Timidly, he called out, “Master, are you all right? If you’re feeling unwell, I’ll find a physician for you.”

The Seventh Prince put his hands behind his back, shaking his head, “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine! Look at this flower—it’s blooming. What do you call this? An auspicious sign! They say our great Qing has favorable weather, but that has nothing to do with me. This flower is me! I’ve found new life like a withered tree blooming in spring. I’m not homosexual—isn’t that wonderful news?”

So that’s what he was happy about? Na Jin tilted his head, “Yes, yes, yes. You finally don’t have to worry about this matter, and it will be easier to explain to the Noble Consort Tai. Think about it—if you had truly been that way, how much suffering would you have endured? The consorts and concubines at home would have fought you tooth and nail. United together, you wouldn’t be able to defeat them…” Though he was outwardly agreeing, in his heart he thought, “This flower isn’t you—it represents the Twelfth Master! Yesterday, Mu Xiaoshu spent the night in the Twelfth Master’s room. They’re both young men in their prime, easily ignited. As for you, you’re walking further and further away from happiness. Your concubine has gone to someone else, yet you’re still foolishly happy. What are you happy about?”

The Seventh Prince glared at him fiercely, “What’s that? Are you mocking me? Whether I’m homosexual or not is secondary. I’m most happy about my little tree—she’s a woman! A woman is easier to handle. Clean her up and bring her into the household. Act first and report later! She can start as a gege, and gradually be promoted. After she bears a son, I’ll make her my primary consort.”

Na Jin stuck out his tongue, “Your plan is good, but I’m afraid Xiaoshu won’t wait. You don’t know yet, but yesterday she spent the night in the Twelfth Master’s room. When a son is born, it will be the Twelfth Master’s. Then what will you do?”

The Seventh Prince hadn’t considered this problem. He was stunned for a moment, then said, “Old Twelve isn’t that kind of person. Staying one night, they’ll keep their distance. He won’t do anything to her.”

“You have too much faith in the Twelfth Master. Excuse me for speaking bluntly, but he’s a young man in his prime. When he’s with someone he likes, who cares about such things? Don’t worry that he doesn’t know how—he can learn! The Twelfth Master is so smart… For you, this matter is already too late. They’ve consummated their relationship, and we’ve worked for nothing.”

The Seventh Prince exclaimed in disbelief, “I am the master. Without the master’s permission, how dare she give herself away?”

Na Jin said, “Well… she’s not sealed with an official stamp. Besides, didn’t you hear what the Twelfth Master shouted at you before leaving?”

The Seventh Prince had been so shaken last night that he couldn’t remember what Hong Ce had said. He slowly recalled and asked, “What did that boy shout?”

Na Jin cleared his throat, scratching his scalp, and said, “The Twelfth Master forbade you from touching Xiaoshu even with one finger, or he would kill you.”

The Seventh Prince let out a snort, “This rebel! All his studies have gone to a dog’s stomach. Doesn’t he know about the proper order of seniority? If anyone has priority, it should be me! Besides, Xiaoshu is my bondservant. He’s interfering outrageously! Let me ask you, did they stay in the same room last night? Did they sleep on the same kang?”

Na Jin said, “I don’t know if they slept on the same kang, but they stayed in the same room. The lamp was lit all night… The Twelfth Master can’t hear, so the lamp helps him see clearly.”

The Seventh Prince’s heart shattered instantly. He slammed his fist on the Eight Immortals table, his face flushed crimson, “Hong Ce if I don’t bring you down, the Yu Wen name can be written backward! You’ve set your sights on what’s mine. If the tiger doesn’t show its might, you take me for a sick cat.” His finger pointed, nearly touching Na Jin’s forehead, “Go see if they’re up. If they are, tell her to come see me. I need to reason with her properly.”

Things had come to this point, yet this master still wanted to check if they were up—was this deep love or pathetic behavior? Na Jin shuffled his feet, took a few steps, and then turned back to ask, “Master, if Xiaoshu has consummated her relationship with the Twelfth Master, why are you still looking for her?”

The Seventh Prince tilted his head back, the line of his jaw tightly drawn, his eyes alternating between anger, hesitation, and anxiety. Na Jin had followed him since childhood and knew his temper best. This time, there would certainly be an outburst of beating and cursing. He felt concerned—far from the emperor’s reach, if the brothers came to blows, the Twelfth Master’s elite guards would overpower the Virtuous Prince’s household troops. Feeling anxious, he wanted to persuade him further when the Seventh Prince, who had been silent for a long time, finally spoke—

“The Manchu people aren’t so particular about whether a woman is chaste or has been married before. During the Yan Jin Wang period, my grandfather even exchanged concubines with his brother… If Xiaoshu has a change of heart, I’ll still treat her well. But if she doesn’t listen, when I return to Beijing, I’ll have her master torn apart by chariots. Let her weigh her options carefully.”

Na Jin was impressed by his master’s compromise—first flaying the senior disciple’s skin, then dismembering the master. What was the point of a relationship gained through threats? His master had fallen to such depths—it was truly heartbreaking and beyond words!