The Empress and Hong Ce looked at each other in silence. She wasn’t particularly concerned about the Emperor’s mood, knowing his anger was temporary and would pass after a few kind words. Rather, she was curious about the girl Hong Ce had mentioned, so she pointed to an armchair for him to sit in. “Sit down so we can talk properly.”
The Twelfth Prince was a reserved person; to have reached this point, he must have been driven to desperation. In the current era, finding someone so sincere was truly rare. How fortunate that young lady was to have met such a reliable man.
“Was everything you told the Emperor true?” The Empress smiled. “You’re still hiding something, am I right? I can see that you truly care for her, but since she’s not here, His Majesty is upset. He’s concerned for you, thinking his brother is being taken advantage of, which is why he’s angry. Regarding romance—who hasn’t been young? When you meet someone special, there’s no helping it—everyone understands that. Hiding isn’t the solution. You need to bring her back and face whatever difficulties together. I can’t believe there’s no way. The Emperor has a good heart. Don’t be fooled by his stern governance face—he values loyalty and wants his brothers to be comfortable. After all is said and done, she needs to come and meet everyone so we can see if she’s suitable before I can advocate for you. Otherwise, as His Majesty said, if her character isn’t good, who would dare bring you two together?”
Hong Ce’s brow furrowed with worry. He glanced at the Empress, hesitating to speak. He knew the Empress was currently the only one who could help him, but he didn’t dare risk it. One can never truly know another’s thoughts. Unconsciously clenching his fist, he carefully considered before saying: “She went missing in Ningguta. I mobilized troops and practically turned Heilongjiang upside down but couldn’t find her. She’s deliberately hiding from me, I know it. There are circumstances I can’t conveniently explain to Your Highness right now, but I can vouch for her character—there’s absolutely nothing improper about her. The Seventh Prince knows this as well.”
The Empress didn’t get along with the Seventh Prince and felt uncomfortable at his mention. “What does that dirty cat have to do with this? He knows about her too?”
Hong Ce explained: “Ding Yi came from the executioner’s household and worked as a bird handler at Prince Xian’s residence, specifically tending to the Seventh Prince’s thrushes. When the Seventh Prince went north, she followed to care for the birds, which is how we spent nearly half a year together. As you said, one can see a person’s character in the small details. In my eyes, she is the best—righteous and proper. If not forced by circumstances, her spirits would be higher than anyone’s. It’s a pity such a complete person fell into a quagmire. I developed feelings for her then and never dared to look down on her. I was always concerned that my hearing impairment would make me unworthy of her. So I truly care for her and want to spend my life with her.”
The Empress looked at the Twelfth Prince—a grown man whose eyes had reddened as he spoke. How pitiful. What in the world could be more unbearable than separation in life? Nothing. When she had wanted to separate from the Emperor, even the Emperor’s unreasonable behavior—despite being the ruler—made her heartache. Now it was the Twelfth Prince’s turn. Suffering as a child, and now as an adult, finding someone who understood him only to face obstacles at every turn—his fate was too bumpy.
She sighed along with him, “Hearing you speak this way, I can somewhat taste the flavor of your feelings. Don’t worry—find a way to search for her. With so many bondservants in the Manchu Banners, form a human network and search everywhere. Once found, bring her back—how big a matter could it be? To be so far apart—her heart must be hard indeed. Alas, how difficult for you! No wonder you returned looking so haggard—so this was the reason. To be honest, I had my eye on a young lady earlier—superior in both appearance and character—and had thought to match you with her. But now that your heart is set, I won’t mention it. Rest assured, for the sake of your feelings, I’ll smooth things over with the Emperor. Be at ease and don’t worry—this marriage won’t be forced upon you, even if it falls on the Seventh Prince instead. The position of consort will be reserved for Ding Yi. When she returns and sees herself so valued, she won’t leave again.”
Hong Ce’s heart settled. He clasped his hands and bowed deeply, “Your Highness is righteous. Since returning from Khalkha, I haven’t often entered the palace and have had little interaction with Your Highness. Today I received your assistance—Hong Ce will remember this in his heart.”
The Empress smiled magnanimously, “People of different temperaments have different insights. You may speak well of me, but the Seventh Prince certainly doesn’t. I don’t know how I’ve offended him, but I never hear a fair word from his mouth. You went to Ningguta with the Seventh Prince—did he cause any trouble along the way? Did he meet anyone and make passionate vows?”
Hong Ce felt somewhat embarrassed, hesitating before saying: “The Seventh Brother also has some feelings for Ding Yi…”
“Perfect,” the Empress said, the corners of her mouth curling upward with satisfaction as she drawled, “What shall we do? The eldest daughter of Prince Hūhe Bar of Khorchin has turned eighteen and is of marriageable age. She’s quite beautiful, with open features, though her temper isn’t the best. Being Mongolian, she’s uninhibited—the men in the imperial clan fear they can’t handle her, which is why she remains unmarried. I’ve been thinking she would be quite suitable for the Seventh Prince—a perfect match in terms of status and appropriateness!” She became increasingly excited as she spoke, eager to arrange it immediately. Rising, she smiled at Hong Ce, “The Twelfth Prince should return home. As long as the Garden doesn’t issue any orders, I’m here in the palace—no chaos will ensue.”
Hong Ce acknowledged and withdrew from Yangxin Hall.
Once outside the palace, his heart eased. He could temporarily muddle through, as the Empress had said—as long as the Emperor Emeritus and his mother didn’t interfere, things wouldn’t be too bad.
He looked up at the sky. It was just the hour of Chen (around 8 am), with the sun warming him gently. The early morning mist hadn’t completely dispersed; the distant city walls were hidden in the haze, and there was a slight chill near the base of the walls. Bird walkers carried their cages, hands on hips, pacing in measured steps. The wind blew, sweeping their robe hems across the lotus-shaped pedestals of the bridge, clearing away the light frost on the surface.
Guan Zhaojing waited outside Xihua Gate. Seeing his master emerge, he hurried forward to greet him. Ten paces away stood a green felt-curtained sedan chair. Bowing, he said: “Master returned to the residence late at night and had to report for duty early this morning—truly exhausting. Please get in the sedan chair. This servant has prepared refreshments for you to enjoy inside. Ningguta Deputy Commander-General Dao Qin has already been detained by the Censorate. You needn’t concern yourself with subsequent matters—the Grand Council ministers will handle them. Just rest well, sleep for three days and nights, and regain your strength before we discuss what comes next.”
Guan Zhaojing was the steward of Prince Chun’s residence, responsible for household affairs, including the master’s daily life and moods. Sha Tong had returned and thoroughly briefed him on everything, leaving him stunned after hearing it. Who could have imagined that Mu Xiaoshu was a woman? Back then, when her senior apprentice stole the Seventh Prince’s dog, she had come to the north bank of Houhai with her head hanging low, standing in the doorway’s lamplight waiting to be announced—such a small figure, trembling and looking pitiful. After all, a girl is a girl—beautiful and quick-witted. His master, while helping her, developed feelings for her. It truly seemed like a debt from a previous life—first saving her life repeatedly, then falling into lovesickness, even willing to sacrifice himself. What a fateful entanglement.
Though he knew, he dared not speak much. This matter was like a tumor—untouchable, as touching it would cause bleeding. The Twelfth Prince was now gritting his teeth and enduring. His sorrow was too great, so everyone gave him a wide berth, neither mentioning nor asking. When the day came that the Twelfth Prince could face it, this pain would heal.
But one was consumed with worry while the other had vanished without a trace—such torment was truly unbearable. The Twelfth Prince was human after all; no matter how strong his pretense, he ultimately couldn’t fool himself.
He didn’t take the sedan chair but walked slowly along the Canal with his hands behind his back, muttering: “Tomorrow is the ninth day of the ninth month…”
Guan Zhaojing quickly acknowledged, following closely and feigning lightness: “Tomorrow is Master’s birthday. This servant has ordered a banquet prepared. Our household’s newly built stage hasn’t been put to use yet. Recently, two merchants from outside the capital brought several Korean beauties to Beijing and sold them into Fenzi Hutong. I heard these women can dance the huteng dance…” He raised his hands like the flying apsaras in Dunhuang murals, gesturing left and right, “Those dances like Sumuche and Taniang Yao—they dance beautifully. This servant will bring them to the residence to dance and entertain you.”
Hong Ce shook his head. With a piece missing from his heart, he had long lost the ability to appreciate beauty. Life now held no interest for him. Previously, he had devoted himself entirely to his duties, busy with one thing after another, reading and practicing calligraphy in his spare time, living a stable and orderly life. Now, he had no enthusiasm for anything. Though he knew that once Wen Lu’s case was clarified, Ding Yi might return, he lacked the perseverance and willpower. Whenever he quieted down, his mind felt like it would explode. Sometimes, facing the wind, tears would unconsciously flow down his face… He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on—it seemed he had already lost the will to live.
People came and went on the streets. During the early market hours, the steamed bun shops on both sides emitted a sweet fragrance. The high-stacked steamers had white vapor billowing from each layer’s junction. When someone came to buy, the steamer lid would be lifted at the waist, revealing knife-cut buns, each smooth with a few red and green threads scattered on top. The colors had blended during steaming, giving off a plain, living aroma.
He dismissed the sedan chair and slowly wandered along the road. Even though his prince’s court attire stood out jarringly from his surroundings, he didn’t care, just aimlessly moving forward. After walking for an unknown length of time, he looked up and found himself outside the Shuntian Prefecture. The officials there recognized him, and the gatekeepers hurriedly came out to greet him, their knees touching the ground as they said: “May the Prince be blessed! Please come inside—this humble one will immediately summon our magistrate for you.”
Summon for what? He said it wasn’t necessary: “I’m just wandering around and happened to walk here.” Turning, he slowly headed in another direction, leaving the gatekeeper perplexed.
After walking just a few steps, he encountered Wu Changgeng—Ding Yi’s master and the person she had entrusted to his care before leaving. He stopped and called out, “Master Wu.”
Wu Changgeng said nothing, merely making a deep bow.
Seeing him further stirred thoughts of Ding Yi. In a gentler tone, he asked: “How are Master Wu’s household affairs? If there’s anything unsatisfactory, feel free to come to Prince Chun’s residence at Houhai, and I will certainly do my best to help.”
Wu Changgeng glanced at him, then lowered his eyes again, understanding in his heart—his little apprentice must have entrusted herself to this man. He knew Xiaoshu had gone to Ningguta to find her brother, believing that with her resourcefulness, she would find a way to bring her brother back to Beijing. He never expected they would end up fleeing for their lives.
They say one’s flesh brings the most pain. Xiaoshu had come to him at around ten years old, and he had raised her, teaching her step by step how to conduct herself in life—no different from his children. He had invested so much effort, only to lose her in the end. The pain in his heart was beyond words.
He had just returned from the Seventh Prince’s residence. After meeting with the Seventh Prince and inquiring, he learned that her female identity had been exposed. Not only that, from between the lines of the Seventh Prince’s words, he sensed that she had become entangled with both princes. What could be said about this? Now, looking at the Twelfth Prince—such a steady, anchoring figure—whose expression remained controlled despite his poor complexion and diminished spirit, it seemed the blow had been severe. Based on his understanding of Xiaoshu, if she truly had to choose between the two princes, the Twelfth Prince would have the advantage. Thus, seeing his condition made one’s heartache.
“Thank you, Twelfth Prince. I can still work with my hands, so my livelihood is manageable for now.” With his head lowered, he sighed, “It’s just my little Shu… Does the Twelfth Prince have any news of her?”
Hong Ce slowly shook his head, “I’m searching with all my might, but…”
Wu Changgeng studied Prince Chun for a moment, then tentatively asked: “Does the Prince have a deep friendship with our Shu?”
He didn’t conceal anything, saying straightforwardly: “She is my consort.”
This left Wu Changgeng somewhat dumbfounded—how had she suddenly become a consort? If they were truly husband and wife, what couldn’t be said? Why did she still run away? The Twelfth Prince cherished her and gave her a home—how wonderful! She had roots now and needn’t wander anymore. But she was stubborn—her departure indicated an emotional dilemma: between her brother and her husband, she ultimately chose the former. This action couldn’t be judged right or wrong; it was simply too bitter. As her master, he wished for her comfort. Being with her brother provided family togetherness, but living in hiding and unable to show their faces in public would taint even the best circumstances.
He frowned in thought, “I have two things to say—would the Twelfth Prince consider if they make sense?”
Hong Ce nodded: “Please speak, Master Wu.”
Wu Changgeng said: “Xiaoshu is a child of hardship. Since she followed the Twelfth Prince, leaving you wasn’t her desire. The Twelfth Prince is most kind-hearted and understands her difficulties. Right now, your obstacle isn’t elsewhere but with her brother. There may be no national grudge, but family hatred fills the pot. This is the most difficult to resolve. You must reassure him, and make him feel comfortable entrusting his sister to you… Where has the Twelfth Prince searched for her?”
Hong Ce finally understood that this master knew Ding Yi thoroughly and respected him even more. He quickly said: “For the first few months, we searched in Heilongjiang and Jilin Wula. Later, after returning to Beijing, I dispatched people to investigate southward.”
Wu Changgeng moistened his lips and asked: “What about Shanxi? Have you been there? The Wen family’s ancestral home is in Datong—that’s where their foundation is. Perhaps they went there.”
Like a sudden enlightenment, Hong Ce was jolted awake. He had truly been foolish enough, thinking of so many places but overlooking Datong. His face flushed with excitement as he grabbed Wu Changgeng’s arm, shaking it: “Thank you, Master Wu! How could I not have thought of this? I’ll go to Datong right away! Right now!”
All pride and decorum vanished—he was just a man anxiously searching for his wife. As Prince Chun hurried away, Wu Changgeng watched with his hands behind his back, feeling emotional. Unexpectedly, Xia Zhi emerged from the side, asking quietly: “Master, did you know all along that Xiaoshu was a woman?”
He grunted affirmatively, “I’ve known for eight years.”
“Aren’t I your apprentice? You kept this from me for so many years! I’m still unmarried—did you ever think of me? You’d rather send her to those eccentric princes than benefit your apprentice—is this how much you care for me? If I had been nicer to Xiaoshu, would she have looked at anyone else? Would she have gone missing alone? Childhood sweethearts growing up together—how rare! Now it’s all wasted!” he lamented, almost in tears.
Wu Changgeng gave him a hard knock on the head, “What are you thinking? A toad yearning for swan’s meat—give up that idea right now!”