Love in Red Dust – CH 069

Chapter 69.

Within the walls, a swing swayed; beyond the walls, King Xian arrived with betrothal gifts. And inside those walls, the fair maiden… was hurling curses!

What kind of woman was this? Though her face remained unseen, her fiery temper, boldness, fierceness, and audacity were already legendary. She had declared, “The imperial decree cannot be defied, but that does not mean I have to think highly of him.” Just listen to such words!

Seventh Master was deeply wounded and asked Najin, “Am I really so unlovable? What right does she have to look down on me? I am neither pockmarked nor blind, strong and healthy, and a direct descendant of the Imperial Clan. What about me is not good enough for her? How strange—I, the very picture of elegance, unrivaled on De’nei Avenue—why do I keep running into such blind fools!”

Najin scratched his head and said, “Well… it is hard to say. It is not about status—she’s looking for a certain feeling. It is not that you are lacking in any way, just that you have not met someone who appreciates you. It is like a tenon—if it does not fit the right mortise, it does not count. Besides, this King’s Consort is Mongolian. Mongolians are like this—you will get used to it.”

“And when will that be? If she does not fancy me, then I will not bother with her either!” Seventh Master brushed the snowflakes off his sleeves, dumped the betrothal gifts, turned on his heel, and stormed off, muttering, “Now the grudge with the Empress is truly set. That sly palace maid—what was she thinking, saddling me with such a sourpuss? She must’ve been plotting to ruin me. Even her habit of ignoring people has been cured—she ought to thank me.”

Just like that, he abandoned the betrothal gifts and fled. But how could that be allowed? Was this an official betrothal or not? The King of Khorchin chased after him from the mansion gates, shouting, “Seventh Master… ah, Seventh Master, please wait!”

Seeing his master show no intention of stopping, Najin whispered, “Do not be like this. Your father-in-law is chasing after you—this is your wife’s father. You cannot afford to slight him.”

Seventh Master pondered. What could he do? Unless he planned to leave the capital for good, he could not defy the higher powers. Otherwise, the Empress would surely find ways to make his life miserable. He halted, the reins in his hand swaying. The King of Khorchin, originally of the Borjigin clan, had adopted the Han surname Bao for convenience, and everyone called him King Bao. A burly Mongolian warrior from the mid-dynasty era, King Bao’s belt spanned ten hand-widths. If you angered him, one slap could be fatal. Seventh Master felt a chill in his heart. If the father was like this, the daughter was likely no better—unattractive and domineering. His future life seemed bleak, his days of peace at an end.

Not daring to offend, lest he be struck, Seventh Master forced a smile. Since the decree had been issued, and they were now family, he had to play along. He hurried forward a few steps, swept his sleeves, and bowed. “Greetings, Uncle Bao.”

King Bao quickly waved off the formality. Originally, they were both Kings of equal rank, but now, suddenly bound by marriage, their relationship had shifted to one of seniority. Not only the Seventh Master, but even King Bao found it awkward. Hurriedly helping him up, King Bao knew his daughter’s curses had been overheard. The betrothal gifts had been delivered in good faith, and guests deserved courtesy—yet she had deliberately caused offense. The fault lay with him—his lax parenting had spoiled her.

With a beaming smile, King Bao warmly took the Seventh Master’s arm and led him back. “We are family now—why not come inside? Normally, the bride is not seen before the wedding night, but we Mongolians do not stand on such ceremony. Seventh Master should meet my daughter, have a chat, and build some rapport. After all, you will be spending your lives together.”

King Bao chuckled heartily, while Seventh Master felt as though he’d been doused in cold water. Steeling himself, he thought, “Fine, let’s meet her—nine times out of ten, she would have a dark, round face like a pancake.” After all, daughters take after their fathers. King Bao’s nose and eyes were practically indistinguishable, with high cheekbones and narrow, squinting eyes—how pretty could his daughter possibly be?

Entering the King’s residence, Seventh Master found it spacious and grand—a large courtyard with a fish tank and pomegranate trees. King Bao was certainly prolific: his eldest princess was of marriageable age, while the youngest, just learning to walk, was being supported by her nursemaid. In between, a half-grown child crouched in a corner, reciting Mencius: King Hui of Liang, Part II, with dogged determination—something about “I have a weakness; I love courage.”

King Bao walked over, frowning. “Enough reciting! All day long, buzzing like a fly—go find something else to do!” Turning to the Seventh Master, he gestured, “Come, come, take the seat of honor inside.”

Seventh Master declined humbly, insisting the elder take the seat of honor while he found a lower position for himself.

Now that he was here, he might as well play the part of a suitor—after all, he was already in the pit. Seventh Master tucked his hands into his sleeves and had the betrothal gifts brought in, presenting the gift list with an apologetic smile. “My mother was overjoyed upon hearing of the imperial betrothal and immediately had this list prepared. Please take a look, Uncle Bao.”

King Bao accepted it with both hands, unfolding the crimson card to read the flowery phrases—how the match would bring honor to humble homes and joy to grand halls, how the gifts followed the noble tradition of the groom’s precedence, and so on. Skimming the items below, he noted two hundred large silver ingots as the betrothal gold, sixty ingots for the bridal hairpin ceremony, along with hair ornaments, embroidered handkerchiefs, fine fabrics, hats, pastries, and seasonal delicacies—an exhaustive list. But no treasure could compare to the joy of securing a future for his daughter.

The Empress had chosen well this time—though Seventh Master might be a bit unreliable, he was not a bad sort. With some refinement, he would do just fine. King Bao grinned from ear to ear. Their eldest princess had a bit of a temper, true, but her mother had passed early, leaving her to shoulder the household responsibilities at a young age. She was capable, always striving to outdo others, which had earned her quite a reputation. But those who dismissed her were simply blind to her virtues.

King Bao had never remarried, and his concubines were hardly fit to manage anything, leaving the vast estate entirely in the hands of the eldest princess. She was formidable—distributing the monthly allowance for over a hundred servants without a single discrepancy. That was real skill! Whoever married her would gain the backbone of their household and be guaranteed a life of ease.

“Excellent, all excellent. The betrothal gifts are trivial—what matters is your future happiness together. I will not mince words,” he boomed, turning his head, “Bring the eldest princess here! The marriage is settled, after all—we are practically family now. No need for shyness. Meet each other, speak your hearts, and may your future be harmonious and sweet!”

The steward acknowledged with a “Yes, My Lord!” and scurried off. Seventh Master exchanged a glance with Najin, his palms slick with sweat. This was really happening. What kind of three-headed, six-armed monster was she going to be?

Footsteps approached. He took two deep breaths. A pair of lambskin boots stepped into view—not too large, just right, with upturned toes and a fluffy pom-pom on top, rather charming. Moving upward, he saw a water-green pleated skirt, a three-tiered embroidered jacket with an upturned collar lined with white fox fur that nearly swallowed her chin, revealing only a pair of full, clever red lips, plump as little water chestnuts…

Seventh Master felt as though struck by lightning. This was to be his King’s Consort? She was not unattractive—far better than he’d imagined.

He whipped his head around to look at Najin, who blinked back in approval. Not bad at all. Seventh Master stood up, shuffled forward a couple of steps, and, not knowing what to say, blurted out, “I am King Xian, Hongtao…”

The princess had quite the temper. Turning her face away, she tossed out, “My name is Mantageri.”

“Mantageri just means ‘little round face’!” Seventh Master laughed. “That name does not suit you—you clearly have an oval face… And four syllables sounds too distant. I will call you Xiao Man instead. Adding ‘little’ makes it cute and endearing…”

Before he could finish, he earned a fierce glare. “Is this how His Highness usually behaves? We’ve just met for the first time—what’s with this ‘cute and endearing’ nonsense? Is this any way to speak?”

Seventh Master was left with egg on his face, thinking to himself, She’s really something—three sentences in and already giving me attitude. If this keeps up, I would be crushed under her toes! He stammered, “N-not really… I am not usually like this… it is just that we are getting married now…”

The princess scrutinized him with disdain. Truth be told, Seventh Master was not bad—he had looks and royal favor—but his reputation was poor. Aside from his frivolous pursuits, he had several concubines. When she had been selected to enter the palace, the other chosen girls had whispered among themselves that among the Kings of this generation, only the Thirteenth Master and Twelfth Master stood out.

As for Seventh Master, he lived too carefree a life—having a King’s Consort or not made no difference to him. Who would want to be that insignificant person? So when the imperial decree matched her to him, it felt like a bolt from the blue. She had cried all night in anger. Now that she’d met him, he was just as rumored—uncultured, lacking dignity, and shameless. It only deepened her sense of tragic fate. How could such a philanderer be a good match?

The girl’s tantrum left Seventh Master embarrassed, which was not ideal. King Bao hurried to smooth things over. “I quite like Seventh Master’s warmth—he does not stand on ceremony. Our Mongol princesses are open-hearted, not petty. You ought to show some restraint.”

King Bao intended to admonish the young lady, but she stamped her foot and retorted, “If you like him so much, you marry him!” With a flick of her braid, she turned and left, having made her appearance for less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.

Seventh Master stared blankly at King Bao. “Uncle Bao, the princess clearly has no interest in me. You see, you cannot force a marriage. Maybe I should go to the palace later and report back, calling off this arrangement.”

King Bao was horrified. “Do not joke about this! An imperial decree cannot just be revoked—that would be the death of me! The princess is just immature, and young girls are thin-skinned. Be patient with her. Once she enters your household, you can discipline her properly. We cannot defy the imperial decree.”

The Seventh Master had no choice. Thinking there was some sense to it, he figured he could teach her properly after the wedding—maybe there was still hope. As for who would end up disciplining whom later, that was another story.

He’d met her, and though it ended badly, the trip was not wasted. Seventh Master cupped his hands in farewell and left King Bao’s residence with a dozen porters in tow.

A light snow was falling from the sky. Instead of mounting his horse immediately, he strolled along the street with Najin and asked, “What do you think of that girl?”

“Upright,” Najin said, giving a thumbs-up. “This servant thinks she might manage the household well, not like the other mistresses in your residence, always scrambling for food and drink. She’s the eldest princess of King Bao’s household, after all. Her status alone will keep the servants in line. You will not have to worry about being cornered anymore—with the King’s Consort backing you, getting scolded by one person is better than being ganged up on by three or four. Do you not think?”

Here was how it was—his household rules were not strict, and his secondary wives and concubines did not regard him as the head of the family. If they fancied some jewelry today or needed their brothers to secure some position tomorrow, they’d fawn over him with all their charms. But on days when nothing was amiss, if he sought them out, they’d barely spare him a glance, too busy playing cards with the four of them. “Please wait, My Lord,” they’d say, “we will attend to you once the game is over.”

Do not even mention it—just thinking about it brought bitter tears. After weighing his options, Seventh Master figured marrying a Mongolian King’s Consort might have its advantages. She could intimidate the others, rolling up her sleeves if words failed, and bring about a major overhaul of the household discipline.

Still, the Seventh Master remained melancholic. “Though the eldest princess is quite fair, she still falls short compared to our Shu’er… Who knows where she is now, whether I will ever find her again in this lifetime? Twelfth Master’s feigning illness to deceive everyone—he’s definitely up to something. I know he has not given up. Did the palace not arrange a marriage for him? Of course they did! But the clever rascal found a way to refuse, which is why it has fallen to me now!”

Najin, seeing his master in low spirits, sighed along with him. “My Lord, do not dwell on it too much. Though this new King’s Consort may be a bit fierce, at least she’s decent-looking, and her family is not bad either. She’s well-regarded in both the palace and the gardens—your union will not face any obstacles. Unlike Twelfth Master and Xiao Shu—even if she’s found, being together will be difficult. Just think, forget everything else, would the Noble Consort in Langrun Garden ever agree? She’s counting on securing a prestigious match to lift her spirits. If Twelfth Master brings home someone like that, she will be the first to oppose it. Mark my words!”

“That’s true. Twelfth Master’s mother is as prickly as a lotus pod. Even though they do not live together, every meeting is full of cold glares—life is not easy for him.” Seventh Master tilted his head back, squinting at the sky. The gray dome hung low, endlessly sifting snow. With a sigh, he ultimately did not mount his horse, instead walking back to De’nei Street from Guaibang Alley.

Upon returning home, he suddenly received news that Twelfth Master had not been in Beijing at all—he’d gone away somewhere. Today, he’d returned, bringing back a young woman, and was now busy settling her in. “Seventh Master, hurry and go see the spectacle!”

Seventh Master slapped his thigh. “So it is our Shu’er who’s been found!” Without another thought, he mounted his horse and raced straight to High King Chun’s Residence.

Arriving at the residence, he demanded at the gate, “Where’s your master?” The old fox Guan Zhaojing came forward to greet him, smiling. “Seventh Master, you’ve come? Our master is unwell and is not receiving guests. I told you this last time—have you forgotten?”

Seventh Master kicked him in the shin. “To hell with ‘unwell’—who do you think you are fooling? Speak! Where’s Xiao Shu? Is she in the residence or not? If you do not tell me, I will search the place myself!”

Unable to evade him, Guan Zhaojing hung his head and said, “Do not shout, My Lord. She’s in Wine and Vinegar Bureau Alley. I will take you there.”

So he followed Guan Zhaojing, finding a courtyard house deep in the alley. From the outside, it was sizable—three sections deep, even equipped with gatekeepers and maids. But Seventh Master took one look at the setup and stormed inside to confront Twelfth Master. “What’s this? Planning to set up a separate household? What was our agreement back then? Whoever wanted her had to give her the title of primary wife! What’s the meaning of this now? He cannot even keep your word before pulling the plug?”

Twelfth Master was not surprised by Seventh Master’s appearance, but he found him annoying. Frowning, he moved aside and said, “Who’s planning to set up an external residence? This is just to avoid gossip when the imperial marriage is arranged later. What would it look like if she moved into High King Chun’s Residence without any status?”

“Why did you not say so earlier? She could’ve stayed at King Xian’s residence, too!” As he muttered, he noticed someone approaching the courtyard gate—graceful in every gesture and smile. Who else could it be but his Shu’er! Nearly a year apart, and she had blossomed even more beautifully, with brows naturally dark and lips naturally red, truly a stunning beauty. Alas, the beauty was as distant as a flower beyond the clouds. He sighed endlessly, looking at her and still finding her incomparable—no one in the world could match her.

Dingyi was delighted to see Seventh Master and greeted him warmly, “Master, how have you been?”

“How could I be well?” Seventh Master’s nose tingled with emotion. “Shu’er, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you.”

He wanted to hug her, but the Twelfth Master blocked him. Undeterred, he leaned over Hongce’s arm toward Xiao Shu and said, “No matter what, you will always be my Shu’er. I’ve never forgotten you!”

Seeing him wipe away tears, Dingyi felt heartbroken and began crying too. Nodding, she said, “I’ve been well, Master. Do not worry. You look much healthier than when you were in Ningguta, and your complexion is good. I am really happy to see you.”

Seventh Master quickly corrected her, “No, this is just bloating. I cannot sleep well at night, missing you… Why are you staying here instead of coming home? You are still part of my Feather Banner, still holding a position under me! Do not stay here in this half-hearted place—come back to King Xian’s Residence with me!”

Hongce had had enough of the Seventh Master’s self-indulgent display. Turning to Dingyi, he said, “From now on, you do not need to call Seventh Master ‘Master.’ Your registration has been canceled. You are no longer part of the Feather Banner.”

Seventh Master was stunned. “Canceled? How come I did not know about this? What tricks have you been playing? How dare you interfere with my banner?”

Hongce dismissed his outrage. “Go ask your banner’s captain. Last time, half of the Feather Banner’s archives burned down, and the roster has not been fully restored yet.”

Seventh Master took two steps back. His subordinates had messed up but dared not report it, hoping to hush it up—only for Twelfth Master to find out. Or maybe he was the one behind it! To destroy Shu’er’s fingerprints, he’d burned half the banner’s registry. How ruthless!

“Twelfth Brother, you’ve got some nerve! Just wait—I will take this to the Emperor!” Furious, the Seventh Master stormed off.

Hongce did not stop him. “Making baseless accusations? When the Emperor asks for evidence, can you produce any?”

Seventh Master halted. He was right—without proof, how could he even explain? Now what? He had wanted Shu’er to move in with him, but now he had no grounds. Twelfth Master’s move to cut the ground from under his feet was brilliant! He turned back to look at the figure standing under the eaves. “Shu’er…”

Dingyi smiled. “Seventh Master, do not be angry. Twelfth Master would not do such a thing—you’ve misunderstood him. Calm down and come in for some tea. I heard the palace has arranged a King’s Consort for you—what wonderful news! I have not congratulated you yet!”

Now, the Seventh Master had even less to say. He was already a man with a King’s Consort and no longer had any right to compete with the Twelfth Master. Enough of this—after running around for half the day, his mouth felt a bit dry. Might as well go inside and rest for a while. Shaking the hem of his robe, he climbed the steps once more.