Love in Red Dust – CH 043

Chapter 43.

Happiness always came unexpectedly.

Seventh Master had initially planted that kiss with seventy percent spite, but the moment their lips touched, he realized he’d struck gold. Those lips were as soft as silk, unmatched by any woman in the King’s residence. How could there be such an endearing child in this world? They looked like a girl, kissed like a girl—that little thing between their legs was practically wasted. If only this person were truly female, then everything would be perfect. He’d take this one home and raise a whole brood of children. Low birth would not matter; he could elevate the person’s status gradually. How wonderful! What a shame reality could not match his imagination. But no matter—he did not mind breaking his sleeve for them. This kiss was like a seal now. Twelfth Master was a gentleman and certainly would not move as fast as he was. Whoever got there first would claim the prize—this time, he was not about to yield.

Seventh Master’s heart was aflutter, utterly intoxicated. As a seasoned libertine, he knew this stirring in his loins meant there was no turning back. The further he walked down this path, would he eventually lose interest in women? That might be troublesome—he had no sons yet. What if his line ended with him? His mind raced. Truth be told, he cared most about himself. As for his descendants’ future, he gave it little thought. Everyone knew—if you were not an Iron-Cap King, the next generation’s title would be downgraded. Raising a Shizi¹ would only produce a Commandery King; no great loss. As for him, he was of the Emperor Emeritus’ bloodline, the current Emperor’s brother. It was not as if there would be no one to handle his funeral arrangements when he died. As long as someone took care of his affairs posthumously, having no son was manageable.

Having calculated everything, Seventh Master believed he’d left no loopholes. As for the options of the Emperor Emeritus and his mother, they meant nothing to him. His life was his own to enjoy as he pleased. They were old; they should focus on their own affairs and leave his alone.

In the brief moment their lips touched, Seventh Master had organized his entire unplanned life—what a monumental achievement! Dizzy and disoriented, he could not tell east from west, but his purpose was clear. Yet before he could linger further, two fingers jabbed at his forehead, pushing him away abruptly.

Dingyi leaped up, face burning red as she covered her mouth, eyes brimming with tears that promised to dismember him. After struggling to speak, she finally spat out, “When someone refuses, you force yourself on them—just because you are the master and I am the servant!”

Still dazed, Seventh Master grew slightly flustered seeing the other person’s tearful outrage. But bowing his head was out of the question. He eyed them sideways: “So you do remember I am your master?”

She’d never been violated like this before. She’d thought becoming a man would protect them from such harassment, but it seemed no different! From the King down to the servants, not a single decent person existed in King Xian’s residence. She’d once thought Seventh Master, though unreliable, had a passable character. Now it was clear—he was a scoundrel who preyed on both sexes, utterly depraved!

Overcome with nausea, Dingyi scrubbed her mouth fiercely. “Your Highness forgets I was registered midway. If you have any decency, remove me from the registry. Xiao Shu hereby bids farewell to the King.”

This only stoked Seventh Master’s anger. Like a fighting cock, he declared, “Do not even think about it! My Feather Banner is not some temple gate you can enter and leave as you please! If you refuse, I will propose to your master when we return to the capital—I will take you as my male concubine!”

In his panic, he blurted out whatever came to mind—male concubine? She’d never heard of such a thing, and now he intended to pioneer it. Dingyi felt every hair on her body stand on end as she stared at him in horror. “Mu Xiao Shu is but a lowly person, willing to risk everything. If the King insists on forcing me…” She abruptly drew the saber at her waist and pressed it against her neck. “At worst, I will die right here before you.”

This sent the Seventh Master into a panic. “No, no, let’s talk this over. It was just a kiss—you have not lost your virtue. Is it worth dying over? Put the blade down. If you really think I took advantage of you, you can kiss me back. I will not mind at all.”

Dingyi shot him a fierce glare. “I do not seek justice. I only ask that Your Highness promise never to do it again.”

The thought of her actually dying pained him, so Seventh Master reluctantly agreed—though he left himself plenty of wiggle room. “Fine. From now on, if you do not agree, I will not kiss you.”

Unaware of his loophole, she merely flushed with indignation. “And you must never mention it again—not a word to anyone. Can the King do that?”

Seventh Master stared blankly, still trying to negotiate. “I will not tell others, but keeping things bottled up is unbearable. I need to consult the Twelfth Master—ask him for advice.”

Dingyi was convinced Seventh Master had been sent by the heavens to ruin her. Flaunting this before the Twelfth Master would only humiliate him. She did not want Twelfth Master to know—why? A vague worry gnawed at her. Twelfth Master valued loyalty; what if he decided to play matchmaker? What would that make her? She could not voice it—her secret admiration for him was her own affair. Without parents or siblings, she knew her place. She would not hope for the impossible, but neither would she settle for less. Seventh Master was a scoundrel, too frivolous to even be a confidant, let alone anything more.

She pressed the blade harder against her neck. “I’d rather die—I will really do it!”

Seventh Master was terrified, stammering, “Do not! I will not tell a soul—just between us, our little secret, alright?” He reached out with two fingers to gingerly shift the thin blade away from her neck. “Guards carry weapons to fight enemies, not for slitting their own throats. Can you not act a bit more like a man? Threatening suicide at every turn—what kind of behavior is that? Did you lose a piece of flesh from one kiss? I genuinely like you. Otherwise, given your behavior since entering the estate—your half-hearted loyalty—I’d have had you strung up long ago.”

Dingyi’s head throbbed with pain, utterly unmoved by his words. Comparing him to Twelfth Master—how could they even be measured against each other? Twelfth Master was like an orchid or jade tree, never boastful, always just right. This lord, however, was coarse and careless, unreliable in crucial matters. He might make a playmate, but he was no choice for a lifetime commitment.

She sighed and studied him—she’d never really looked at him properly before. Seventh Master, a descendant of the Yuwen clan, was undeniably handsome in every aspect. The only thing missing was steadiness—like a rickety tripod, liable to collapse at any moment.

She turned her head away, hopped off the low couch, and tightened her belt. His interruption had thrown her off balance. She had not forgotten why she had fainted—Ruliang, Rugong, and Rujian were all gone. Afraid the roster might be inaccurate, she had even gone to the Ahha Camp to confirm it. After hearing they were truly dead, what hope was left? She could still cry in front of the Twelfth Master, but when the Seventh Master arrived, she had to hold back her tears. The fewer people who knew about this, the better. These twelve years had been lived in vain—day after day longing, vowing that once she grew up, she would come to the Imperial Manor. Finally grown, finally here, and this was the result.

Her spirit deflated, and she glanced at the Seventh Master, speechless. He seemed to sense something and pressed her. “You seem off. Did something upset you? Did the Twelfth Master lay hands on you last night? Tell me, and I will settle it with him.”

The Seventh Master was indignant, acting as if he had every right to interfere. Dingyi quickly denied it—did he think everyone was like him, grabbing and kissing without shame? She stepped out of the tent and looked into the distance. The High King Chun’s Residence staff were inspecting the Ahhas under the cold morning sun, screening them one by one. The Twelfth Master stood with his hands behind his back, his handsome face framed by the fur collar of his fox robe, pale from the cold but with unwavering determination. His gaze inadvertently met hers, warmth flickering in his eyes. Dingyi watched him, her heart at peace. It was as if they shared a silent understanding—what she wished to do, he would accomplish before she even spoke of it. How could such a man not move her?

The Seventh Master trailed behind her, grumbling incessantly about the cold, about what the Twelfth Master was doing, calling him a stubborn fool who brought trouble upon himself. Dingyi ignored him. The Seventh Master was always slow on the uptake—a man who could not shoulder responsibility, content to live carefree as a privileged lord. What did he know of suffering?

She walked over and glanced behind the Twelfth Master. “Any news?”

“There are many people. No word yet. Do not worry—we will surely find someone who knows.” He studied her carefully. “How are you now? Are you feeling unwell?”

She shook her head. “I lost control earlier. Forgive me for the embarrassment.” She was about to say more when she noticed the Seventh Master approaching unsteadily and promptly fell silent.

The Seventh Master was the kind of person even dogs would avoid. Having gained a little advantage, he puffed up with pride, even his tone changing as he clucked, “Old Twelve, you are working hard. Such dedication—the court ought to reward you. A promotion might be out of reach, but gold, silver, or land could be in the cards. I will submit a memorial singing your praises. Next year, they might arrange a good marriage for you—then you will have everything.”

His nonsensical rambling left them at a loss for words. Fortunately, Sha Tong arrived with an Ahha in tow, bowing slightly. “Master, this man once shared a hut with the Wen Brothers. He knows something of their affairs. I’ve brought him for your questioning.”

The Ahha was dressed in tatters, his face cracked with frostbite, likely in his thirties, old enough to remember events from over a decade ago. Hongce said, “I’ve come by imperial decree to investigate the whereabouts of the Wen Brothers. Speak truthfully, and you will be treated well.”

The Ahha timidly raised his eyes and said in a trembling voice, “I dare not deceive you, noble one. Though I was not close with the Wen Brothers, we slept on the same platform bed, so I heard about their affairs. They were men of strong character who refused to submit when they arrived, constantly stirring up trouble, and were severely punished for it. At first, they endured the whippings without fear. But then the Captain ordered them to wear a hundred-jin heavy cangue and be thrown into the water dungeon. Carrying that weight day after day could crush a man’s spirit, and in the dungeon, rats swam about, biting at their legs. The filthy water caused their wounds to fester, yet they remained unyielding, never begging for mercy. After three months, they had to be released. But fate was cruel—though the water dungeon did not kill them, they caught the plague soon after and quickly succumbed. After lingering for a while, they both went to the home-viewing platform.”

Dingyi listened quietly. With everyone saying the same thing, she held no hope. Though saddened, she gradually accepted it with calm resignation. The Twelfth Master, however, refused to give up. “Where were they buried? Who handled their funeral?” he asked.

The Ahha replied, “I was the one who carried them out. At that time, the dead were loaded onto carts and taken to the back mountain, where shallow pits were dug for them. When I returned three days later, the pits had been overturned. The mountains are full of wolves, tigers, and leopards—they caught the scent and left not a single corpse behind. All were devoured as snacks by those beasts.”

Hongce turned to look at Dingyi. Her expression was composed, but the sorrow in her eyes was bottomless. He sighed inwardly, deciding it was best to clarify everything now, so she could let go of what should no longer be clung to. “Our trip to Changbai Mountain yielded nothing. After a brief rest, we will head to Ningguta in a couple of days. Wen Lu’s case will not be abandoned—once we return to the capital, we will review it from the beginning. There are too many unanswered questions, so I will submit a memorial to the Emperor for his judgment.”

She responded belatedly, but with the Seventh Master present, she could not say much more.

The Seventh Master rubbed his hands together and said, “Well, the trail’s gone cold. No use being so persistent.” He then turned to Xiao Shu with a suggestive smile. “Xiao Shu, you’ve been gone all night—your two birds missed you terribly. Go back and feed them well. After that, come see me. We will discuss matters. We can raise your status again. If your senior brother is willing, I can recommend him for a position in the Document-Signing Office or to manage banner affairs under my banner.” He winked. “After all, we are close—when one man ascends, even his chickens and dogs rise to heaven. An old saying, you know.”

Dingyi was deeply embarrassed. “Thank you, My Lord, but this is his decision to make, not mine.”

Hongce showed no reaction, merely turning to give her a knowing smile. He did not interrupt the Seventh Master, instead instructing Sha Tong, “Recall everyone. They’ve worked hard all night, and since we cannot uncover the full story, further delay is pointless.”

At his command, the guards from High King Chun’s Residence withdrew, and the Seventh Master noisily called for his own men to regroup. In the brief interlude, the Twelfth Master lightly touched her fingertips and whispered, “I promised to make up for your birthday once we reached Changbai Mountain. Tomorrow night at the hour of Xu², I will wait for you in the open area southeast of the Imperial Manor. Do not tell anyone—come alone.”

His thoughtful effort to comfort her touched her heart. She looked up at him, then quickly lowered her gaze, her ears turning red, the flush spreading beneath her collar.