Leaving Shengjing and continuing northward, the journey passed through vast, sparsely populated lands, with post stations growing farther apart. Often, it took three to five days of nonstop travel to encounter one. The weather was bitterly cold, starkly different from Beijing's climate. Riding on horseback without leg coverings allowed the chill to seep through every fiber of the fabric, stinging the skin like needles. When no post station was in sight, the convoy had to rest and regroup, so they set up tents in the wilderness for the night. The Princes' tents were topped with oxhide and lined with thick felt, impervious to wind and rain. The guards and military escorts had ordinary oilcloth tents, offering little more than shelter—certainly no defense against the biting cold. Thus, fires were lit everywhere, their flames stretching like winding serpents under the dark night sky, illuminating the foot of the mountains.
With lodging settled, food became the next concern. The guards, all robust young men, grew weary of gnawing on plain cornbread day after day. As soon as camp was pitched, they set out to hunt. Teams of a dozen or so fanned out like the Emperor’s Autumn Hunt, some encircling prey while others took aim. Within half an hour, they returned laden with game. Dingyi, however, had never trained in horseback archery and didn’t join their parties. Feeling awkward about freeloading, she tended to the two "ancestors" first before wandering off alone. She wandered here and there, her slingshot skills sharp enough to target birds roosting in trees at night. With a snap, she brought down a large one.
She staggered back, dangling the bird by its feet, and the men burst into laughter. "Xiaoshu, seems you’ve got an unbreakable bond with birds!"
Seventh Lord took it from her hand. "A big-eyed thief—can you even eat this thing?"
She’d never tried it, but the owl was sizable, almost like a chicken. Hesitating, she scratched her head. "Probably? Back in my village, some folks ate crows, and this has way more meat than that." She took it back. "Give it here, I’ll clean it up. Roasted bird, coming right up!"
A lone figure stood in the clearing before the tents, aloof, gazing silently into the distance with eyes as calm as water.
The group busily gutted their game, skewered the cleaned carcasses on branches, and roasted them over the fire. The crackling flames licked at the meat as it turned, soon filling the air with a savory aroma. Dingyi sniffed her owl—no odd smell, just fine. Delighted, she sprinkled salt and cumin, tending to it with great care.
Seventh Lord sidled up beside her. She glanced over and exclaimed, "My lord, sitting on the ground like this—let me spread a handkerchief for you?"
"Don’t bother." He pointed. "Smells decent, though."
She grinned. "You’d better stick to the roe deer. Who knows how this’ll turn out? Wouldn’t want you retching again. You’re so prone to—"
Realizing she was alluding to the face powder incident where he’d gagged on nail-fed wine, Seventh Lord shot her a glare. "Watch your mouth! Today, I’m eating this big-eyed thief. Hurry up, tear me a leg when it’s done."
How big could a bird’s leg be? Dingyi said, "Have the breast instead—more meat. Might even leave some stuck in your teeth."
Seventh Lord clicked his tongue. "You seem so refined, yet your words are downright disgusting!"Dingyi simply smiled, turning her head to glance at the large tent. The area outside was empty, with no sign of the Twelfth Master. She turned back dejectedly, her heart inexplicably hollow, a feeling she couldn’t quite put into words. That day, when she heard him teasingly say that combs were tokens of affection girls gave to others, his casual remark had struck a chord in her. She remembered it and since then had often carried the rhinoceros horn comb with her—a small comfort to her budding, unspoken feelings.
Her thoughts swirled endlessly, but she couldn’t let anyone notice. Whether it was her colleagues, the Seventh Lord, or especially the Twelfth Master, she dared not reveal even a hint. If discovered, what would people think? Would they call her filthy, shameless, a man trying to seduce another man?
She felt somewhat helpless, aware of her circumstances and knowing she had no right to dwell on such thoughts. But if she couldn’t get close now, once she became Wen Dingyi again, this opportunity would never come again. She lowered her head in loneliness—the distance between them was too vast. He had his glorious life ahead, while she… First, she’d have to worry about her brothers. When she grew older, she’d probably just marry some hunter or orchardist household, settling for a meager existence.
Originally in good spirits, she suddenly grew melancholy. The Seventh Lord, who had been observing her for a while, also turned to look. There was nothing there—the old Twelfth was aloof, unlike him, who would condescend to mingle with common folk. Seeing Xiaoshu unhappy at not spotting him, the Seventh Lord suddenly felt a pang of something sour. Clearing his throat, he said, “Shu’er, I’m craving fish. How about we go spear-fishing in the pond tomorrow?”
Dingyi hummed in response. “You want fish? Fish are best caught during the day, but we’ll be traveling then. Maybe bear with it until we reach the post station, and have them prepare a spicy fish head for you.”
The Seventh Lord found this rather dull and listlessly snapped a twig, scratching at the ground. “A short delay wouldn’t hurt…”
“Stop a hundred people just so we can go fishing?” That didn’t seem feasible. Then again, he was the master—why should she overthink it? Tilting her head, she said, “Well, I’ll follow your lead. Whatever you say goes… Ah, the bird’s ready!” The meat sizzled with juices. Blowing off some ash, she hastily tore off a piece and handed it to him. “Try it. If it’s bad, don’t scold me.”
As if he would. The Seventh Lord had no temper left when it came to him. Taking it, he chewed small bites, nodding as he did. “Tastes like pigeon. Not bad, just a bit overdone.”
She lowered her head to taste a piece and laughed. “You’re right. I was careless—treated it like chicken.”
Just then, Najin brought over rabbit and roe deer meat. The Seventh Lord picked two pieces and shoved them into her hands. “Don’t eat that tough stuff. Try the roe deer—see how tender it is.”
She thanked him, setting the owl aside and placing a neatly cut square of meat on her lap. Fishing out a flatbread from her saddlebag, she tore the meat into thin shreds, tucking them all into the bread before folding it carefully.
“What’s this? A meat sandwich?” The Seventh Lord chuckled. “You’re quite the thoughtful one, knowing how to serve your master.” Without waiting for her reply, he took the bread directly.Dingyi sighed silently. Those pancakes were meant for the Twelfth Master. Unlike the Seventh Lord, who had all the leisure in the world, the Twelfth Master had many responsibilities on his shoulders—where would he find the time to wander about like this? Speaking of the Seventh Lord, he was rather odd, always hanging around here. What was the reason? If she couldn’t avoid him, she could at least steer clear. She smiled and said, “Just changing things up for you, Master, so you won’t always crave fish… Please sit, Master. This servant will go check on the birds. They were hung near the fire earlier—wouldn’t want them accidentally roasted.” With that, she picked up the meat and saddlebag and headed toward her small tent.
She prepared everything again, shredding the meat finely and wrapping it neatly before quietly slipping into the Twelfth Master’s leather tent. He was alone inside; Sha Tong was probably out gathering food. The Twelfth Master sat by the lamp, threading a needle under the candlelight.
She was startled. “You’re… mending clothes?”
The Twelfth Master gave a hum and gestured to the cape on his lap. “Earlier, when passing through the woods, a branch tore a big hole in it.”
Traveling was indeed inconvenient, but Sha Tong hadn’t been attending to his duties properly—how could he let his master mend clothes himself!
She hurried forward to take it from him. “You only needed to say the word. I can do needlework too. Back then, I used to mend my master and senior brother’s clothes. My skills aren’t the best, but they’ll do.” She handed him the pancakes. “Have you eaten? Have these to tide you over.”
He asked, “What about you? You’ve been busy all this time—haven’t seen you eat. Was the Big-eyed thief not to your liking?”
So he had been watching her! Dingyi brightened and said with a smile, “It was roasted too long—too tough to chew. The roe deer is much better… You eat, I’m not hungry. There’s still some meat left; I’ll have it later.”
She sat down with the cape, aligning the torn edges. There was a stitching technique called the blind stitch—by sewing it this way, the mend would be nearly invisible.
Under the lamplight, she tied off the thread and ran the needle through her hair, her every movement gentle and practiced. Hongce watched her sidelong. She wasn’t wearing a hat, and her delicate brows and temples were strikingly lovely. He began to worry—what if Old Seventh discovered her true identity while she served by his side? Old Seventh’s recent behavior had been erratic, possessive to an extreme. Had he already noticed? Probably not. Given his temperament, if he had taken a liking to her, he wouldn’t be so restrained—he must be struggling with it too. Otherwise, he would have acted already.
Hesitantly, he asked her, “Has the Seventh Lord said anything to you?”
She looked up, puzzled. “No, everything’s been fine.” After a moment’s thought, she wondered if the incident with returning the money had unsettled him, making him wary of the Seventh Lord, whose eccentricities seemed to grow more pronounced. Caught between her master and her benefactor, she wasn’t sure how to navigate the conversation. Tentatively, she probed, “What do you mean? Are you asking if the Seventh Lord has spoken ill of you?”
He paused briefly. “Not exactly… For instance, has he told you to stay away from me or done anything inexplicable?”
There had been that baffling remark—the bit about the concubine the other day, which had frightened her badly. Fortunately, it was just a spur-of-the-moment jest, not to be taken seriously. She wouldn’t spread such words around. If she were a man, she might have laughed it off. But she was a woman—no one joked about her like that.She shook her head and said, "Though you're not my proper master, you're still a Prince. I've always been a bother to you. Seventh Lord has scolded me a few times for it, but aside from that, nothing else comes to mind. He doesn’t take things too seriously, and though I used to be quite afraid of him, now I find him quite easy to get along with."
Hongce murmured, "Is that so..."
Easy to get along with? That didn’t sound right. Seventh Master had always been domineering and arbitrary. Unlike him, Seventh Master had been born into privilege, doted on by the Empress Dowager. When the imperial princes were enfeoffed, his elder brother was only made a Beile, while he was directly granted the title of Prince—an exception for an otherwise unremarkable imperial son. His life had been smooth sailing, making him all the more arrogant. A few wrong words could provoke him to violence, as seen in the incident with the guard who poisoned the birds. If he showed warmth toward someone, it meant he had taken an interest. With such proximity, could something go wrong?
The felt flap of the tent was lifted, and Sha Tong entered carrying a large piece of meat, grinning. "Ha Gang and the others hunted a deer—must’ve been quite old, it was enormous. Took forever to roast. You must be hungry, Master. Eat it while it’s hot."
Hongce stood and beckoned to her. "Leave the needlework. Come join us."
Dingyi looked up blankly. "How could this servant presume to dine with you? I’m almost done with the mending. I’ll find something to eat later."
Sha Tong, quick to read his master’s mood, saw his silence and hurried to take the needlework from Xiaoshu. "I’ll handle this. You go and attend to the Master during the meal."
Pushed to her feet, Dingyi approached the low table in Twelfth Master’s tent, where a rug was spread on the ground. She knelt, offering a damp towel for him to wipe his hands, then prepared to carve the meat—only for him to take the knife from her. Leaning forward, he selected the tenderest parts, slicing them thinly and arranging the pieces before her. Noticing her hesitation, he asked, "Why aren’t you eating? Always serving others, and now you don’t know how to eat when it’s served to you?"
She replied stiffly, "It’s just... Twelfth Master treats this servant so kindly, I’m overwhelmed."
"You’ll get used to it," he said, setting the knife aside to wash his hands. Rolling up his sleeves, he poured her tea and pushed the cup toward her. "Be careful around Seventh Master. If anything happens, remember what I said—come to me, no matter how late."
Dingyi nodded, chewing on the meat. "I know. Even if you hadn’t said it, I’d still trouble you. Hearing it again gives me more confidence." She pointed at the dish. "Twelfth Master, you should eat too. Is this venison? It tastes a bit like roe deer."
"Well, they’re related. The sika deer is the roe deer’s uncle. Roe deer faint easily when startled, while sika deer are a bit tougher—they just freeze up." He smiled at her. "You freeze up a lot too. Keep it up, and you might end up on a plate. Be careful."
Somehow, everything circled back to her. Twelfth Master had always been so earnest—when had he become so teasing? Dingyi flushed awkwardly. "Please don’t make fun of me. My mind’s slow, and I freeze up when I can’t keep up."
He watched her quietly, then pointed to the corner of his mouth. "Here."
She blinked. "What?"Without much thought, he reached out to wipe the meat crumbs from the corner of her mouth. His warm fingers brushed against her cheek, and Dingyi immediately flushed, laughing self-deprecatingly, "Ah, my table manners are poor. Twelfth Master must be laughing at me." Even as she spoke, her heart trembled violently. The Twelfth Master's attitude was becoming increasingly hard to read. Though they had interacted several times and he wasn’t as reserved as before, he was still a master, with his own incomparable nobility and dignity. She felt these princes should naturally keep their distance—too much familiarity made one uneasy.
As she pondered this, Hongce also reflected, realizing he might have overstepped. This wasn’t good. He composed himself, lowering his head to slowly eat a few pieces of meat before pausing and wiping his mouth. "At our current pace, we’ll reach Changbai Mountain in half a month. Originally, we planned to arrive by mid-October, but now it seems impossible—too many delays on the road. It’ll be November by then... After handling the case at Changbai Mountain, we’ll need at least ten more days. By the time we reach Ningguta, it’ll almost be New Year."
Listening to him, Dingyi’s mind gradually cleared. She had been taking things one step at a time, always thinking the Imperial Manor was still far away, but now they were only half a month from arrival. Her heart was filled with both hope and dread—hope for reuniting with her long-lost brothers, yet dread over how her father’s case would conclude and whether her brothers could ever return to the capital. When the time came, she would have to face it all. How would she confess to the two Princes? The thought of their fury upon learning the truth terrified her beyond words.
Hongce had been closely watching her expression. Her distracted demeanor only deepened his suspicions. Was she heading for Changbai Mountain or Ningguta? These bitter, frigid lands had long been places of exile for disgraced officials. What was a young woman doing, disguised among men, traveling thousands of miles from the capital? Was she the descendant of some condemned official, braving the journey to find her family?
She had too many secrets. He could have pressed her for answers long ago, yet he hesitated—afraid, perhaps, of an unsatisfactory outcome, unsure how much more complicated their path would become.
Maybe he should wait for her to speak up on her own. If she trusted him enough to confess, he would do everything in his power to help her. But if she continued to deceive him, it would mean his earnest efforts had been in vain—that she had never been willing to open her heart to him. And that would be his greatest failure.
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