Dingyi, for her part, had struggled with this matter for a long time. She knew she had to come clean eventually, but she was uncertain about the consequences. What if the men flew into a rage, detained her for questioning, or simply expelled her? With Changbai Mountain so close at hand, wouldn’t all her efforts be in vain? She decided to play it by ear once she got there. Before setting out, her master had warned her that even if she met her brothers, she shouldn’t recklessly acknowledge them. She understood the reasoning behind it. So she had to stay composed—now was not the time, even if the words were on the tip of her tongue.
Since she was unwilling to bring it up, he naturally wouldn’t press her. He simply understood and showed her even more consideration.
They continued their journey, traveling by day and resting at night. Starting from Fushun, taking the official road would mean a long detour, so they cut diagonally southeast instead, halving the distance. But the journey was arduous. By the end of October, they encountered heavy snowfall, making the trek exceptionally difficult.
In the bitter cold, the two birds truly suffered, huddling all day with their necks tucked in, like chickens waiting to be slaughtered at the market. They stopped singing and dancing, their once-lively spirits now as desolate as the silent mountains after the fall of splendor—utterly bleak and forlorn.
The small golden cages Seventh Lord had prepared in the capital came in handy. Both were about the size of cricket cages, easy to carry against her chest. The only downside was how ridiculous they looked. Stacking them vertically risked suffocating the birds, while placing them side by side allowed ventilation but made her feel utterly embarrassed. To make matters worse, Seventh Lord kept wanting to check on them, lifting her collar himself before she could react. Removing one cage left the other protruding awkwardly, creating a comical sight that was both amusing and exasperating.
With the cages bulging against her chest, Seventh Lord remarked with a sigh, “Look at our Shu’er—so much like a woman. Put on a headdress and a pretty dress, and she’d turn heads anywhere.”
She flushed with embarrassment. Seventh Lord had sharp eyes, but the reality of her situation, if exposed, would be far from the rosy picture he imagined.
She continued playing the fool, treading carefully and sticking to her role. The caravan pressed on through the snow and finally reached Changbai Mountain on schedule.
Standing at the gates of the Imperial Manor, she felt as if an eternity had passed. Gazing around, the world was a vast expanse of wilderness. In the depths of winter, the place was deserted, with only the undulating mountain ranges and the whispering pines in the wind. Dingyi trembled all over, her teeth chattering—not from the cold, but from barely contained excitement. After all the hardships, she had finally arrived. The past twelve years seemed to have been lived solely for this day. Stepping onto this land, where her brothers had suffered, she felt that once she found them, her lifelong wish would be fulfilled, and she could bring peace to her parents’ spirits.
The so-called Imperial Manor was farmland and pastures directly managed by the royal family. In the early days of Great Britain’s establishment, there were only five or six such manors, but now they had expanded to over twenty. Where there were manors, there were residences. The court assigned eunuchs to oversee them, and with the emperor far away, these eunuchs acted like petty tyrants—warming their hands by stoves, strutting about with an air of superiority, and oppressing the tenants and slaves. Now that the Prince had arrived, the eunuchs led the manor heads and attendants out to greet him, kneeling in a dense crowd outside the gates.
The cold was so intense that faces had gone numb. Seventh Lord even developed a frostbite blister on his ear. After dismounting, he rubbed it while barking, “Cut the damn formalities! You knew we were coming—why wasn’t everything prepared?”The head eunuch, Tao Yongfu, came forward with a bow, fawning as he said, "Reporting to you, my lords, in this remote mountain village, we only have humble fare. I’ve hurriedly arranged a feast for you—wild game from the mountains and homemade liquor—all prepared to welcome and warm you. Please, my lords, come this way."
Seventh Lord lost his appetite at the mention of wild game and waved his hand dismissively. "We’ve had enough meat on the road. Just stew some fish and boil a pot of taro."
Tao Yongfu quickly agreed and signaled to his subordinates. While ushering the lords inside, he ordered the kitchen to prepare the meal.
The Prince and the officials from the Ministry of War and Ministry of Justice went to the main hall, while the guards and military escort were led to their quarters. The Imperial Manor had no shortage of rooms—rows of low-roofed, pigeonhole-like barracks stretched from south to north. Though cramped, two people could share a room comfortably. Dingyi, however, had special permission. She shared a room with her birds, avoiding the crowd, and after lighting a brazier and settling the birds, she finally had time to step out for a stroll.
As evening approached, the sky resembled an overturned pickle jar, the salted mustard greens turned yellow, casting a murky gloom over everything. She exhaled, her breath forming clouds in the cold air. Tucking her hands into her sleeves, she shuffled backward and spotted a farmer pushing a cart loaded with goods—bowls of tofu, baskets of radishes, yams, winter bamboo shoots, and lotus roots—likely delivering supplies to the manor. Suddenly, the cart hit a rock, jolting and tipping over a basket, sending potatoes rolling everywhere.
Dingyi hurried to help pick them up, and the farmer thanked her profusely. His accent marked him as a Beijinger. Curious, she asked, "Are you from Beijing?"
The farmer nodded. "You’re the Imperial Envoy’s attendant? Don’t think I’ve seen you before."
Dingyi acknowledged, "Just arrived today. Settled in and thought I’d look around. It’s freezing here—nothing like Beijing."
The man chuckled. "No one comes here willingly. It’s where they send those who’ve messed up, to toil and atone."
Dingyi glanced at him and, seeing an opening, asked, "This place is huge. Do the Aha slaves live here too?"
"Here? This is the eunuchs’ retreat—those poor souls wouldn’t get a spot. A mountain over, there’s a place fenced with iron caltrops. Inside, they cram into shacks with communal beds, dozens to a room, right next to the cattle pens and sheepfolds. They live alongside the livestock."
Dingyi felt a pang of discomfort. "Coming here strips them of their humanity..."
"They’re convicts. Keeping them alive is just to grind them down—you think they’d get treated well?" The farmer shook his head. "You don’t know the half of it. At dawn, overseers drive them out to clear wasteland, and they’re herded back at dusk, living like beasts. Their clothes? Tattered cotton jackets that don’t keep out the cold, sleeves torn, pants dragging. It’s pitiful. Now that you’re here, maybe you can pass a word to the Imperial Envoy—someone ought to rein in that Tao and his lot. Us tenants suffer under their thumb too. We don’t know how much rent the court demands, but for every ten bushels we grow, they take nine and a half. Breaking our backs all year, we can’t even keep enough to feed ourselves. How’s a man supposed to live like this?"The tenant farmers were full of grievances, complaining to anyone from the capital they met. Dingyi, however, had other concerns. She responded vaguely while helping him load the basket onto the cart. The man thanked her profusely, to which she smiled and said, “It’s nothing worth thanking me for.” Then she asked, “Where are those Aha clearing land? In such cold weather—aren’t they processing ginseng anymore?”
The man replied, “Ginseng is harvested three times a year, with the last batch in September. They worked day and night to process it after returning, and it’s long finished. Now there’s no work, but they can’t just sit idle. They’re all driven into the mountains to plow the land, whether it’s snowing or hailing.” He pointed southward and added, “Just beyond two mountain ridges—they’re all there! Some young ones were crying from the cold yesterday. The wailing was truly heartbreaking—ah, pitiful!” With that, he cupped his hands in thanks and pushed his cart away.
Dingyi stood frozen in thought, unsure how many Aha were on this Imperial Manor or where to inquire about their names. Anxiety gnawed at her, yet she had no one to turn to. After a moment’s reflection, she reasoned that since the Twelfth Master had come specifically for the case, keeping an eye on him might lead her to her brothers.
She turned away as swirling snowflakes whipped across her face, squinting against the wind. She had imagined this moment countless times, but with two mountain ridges still separating her, nothing had changed. She wondered how Ruliang and the others were faring—starving, freezing, wasting their lives in this icy wilderness. She had always thought her own life was hard, but theirs was a thousand times worse. The endless suffering, the despair in their hearts—it was unimaginable.
Dejected, she trudged back and ran into Najin, who had come looking for her. “The Twelfth Master is discussing birds with someone,” Najin called out. “He wants you to bring the two birds over.”
She acknowledged the order and returned to her room, wrapping the birdcages in thick felt before carrying them to the main house. As she lifted the door curtain, a wave of warmth greeted her. Two Princes sat in the seats of honor, flanked by rows of officials—some from the Ministry of War and Justice who had accompanied them, others local magistrates. The Seventh Lord was peeling taro and dipping it in sugar. Spotting her, he beckoned and said, “Shu’er, the taro here is excellent. Come try some.”
This Prince truly had no regard for decorum. She shook her head with a smile. “Please enjoy it, Your Highness. This servant isn’t hungry. I’ve brought the birds.”
Uncovering the cages, the warmth revived the two birds. The lark mimicked the sound of a waterwheel, creaking and squeaking, while the Red bird chirped rhythmically, as if accompanied by drums and gongs. The entire room, whether they understood bird calls or not, burst into applause.
The Seventh Lord, disinterested in the case, turned to discuss birds with others. Meanwhile, the Twelfth Master, eager to wrap up his duties and head to Ningguta, summoned the overseer to investigate the records.
“In the twenty-seventh year of Chengde, the Emperor Emeritus issued an edict sentencing Wen Lu, the censor of the Court of Censors, to execution, while his three sons were exiled to the Imperial Manor. Twelve years have passed since then. Before leaving the capital, I received orders to reopen the case and summon them as witnesses…” He sipped his tea, scraping the lid of the cup. “How many people are on this manor? Fetch the roster and comb through it one by one. Get it done immediately.”
The Clerk below accepted the order and withdrew. Tao Yongfu rubbed his hands and said, “Your Highness, please be patient. This servant fears the search will take time. Over the years, as the court has cracked down on corruption, many have been exiled to Changbai Mountain. For instance, during the sixth year of Chengsheng, the case involving the Wang family of the Imperial Household Department implicated so many that the manor took in two hundred and twenty-seven people at once. By now, the number of Aha must exceed ten thousand. With people coming and going, pinpointing individuals will require tremendous effort…”Hongce glanced at him. "When working for the Emperor, must we quibble over expending effort? What then—should we leave matters unattended? Our toil cannot compare to your good fortune. These years at the manor, you've made quite an achievement. A certain Jiala Zhangjing colonel from Dunhua came to the capital to report and spoke highly of you. The Emperor has also issued orders for me to investigate. If true, you shall be duly rewarded. You mentioned earlier about arrivals and departures—the arrivals I know of, but the departures? Where do they come from?"
Tao Yongfu felt a chill at his words. The Twelfth Master's formidable reputation was not unknown to him, and the so-called "achievement" was clearly sarcasm. Now under questioning, he had to be extremely cautious. Provoking him could mean a single imperial decree would cost him his head. Thus, he replied carefully, "Your Highness is wise. The climate of Changbai Mountain is unlike other places. Not to mention when heavy snow seals the mountains, even entering to dig for ginseng after the ninth month carries the risk of freezing to death—that's the first point. Secondly, the treacherous terrain claims many lives each year. To put it bluntly, coming here is to suffer hardship. Whether one survives is a matter of fate. For instance, when someone falls ill, the manor has physicians, but these physicians treat both people and livestock..." He forced a smile. "Mongolian doctors regard humans as livestock—how many tough lives can endure that? So arrivals are by imperial grace, and departures are deaths. It's not just here; Ningguta is the same. Dozens perish every year—it's an unavoidable matter."
As they spoke, Dingyi listened intently, shuddering at this point. Eunuch Tao spoke of life and death as casually as one would speak of eating, showing no regard for human lives. A sudden terror gripped her, her heart pounding fiercely. She prayed her brothers were safe. The hardships she endured were borne only by the belief that she could save them. The Twelfth Master was kind-hearted; perhaps if she kowtowed and pleaded, he might show mercy beyond the law. If that path failed, she had even resolved to seek out the Seventh Lord. He once said if she were a woman, he would make her his Concubine—meaning he didn’t find her entirely disagreeable. She harbored no ambitions of climbing high; to save her brothers, she was willing to sacrifice anything, even becoming a maidservant.
The exchange of official pleasantries dragged on, and she stood there restlessly, frequently glancing out the window at the endless snowstorm. After roughly three quarters of an hour, the Clerk who had left earlier returned, holding a register and announcing, "Reporting to Your Highness, as ordered, I reviewed the records from over a decade ago. In the Gengxu year, there was indeed an entry—the three Wen brothers, Ruliang, Rugong, and Rujian, were exiled to the Imperial Manor due to their father’s crimes..."
Dingyi felt her soul hovering above her, ready to depart at any moment. Trembling, she strained to listen as the Clerk continued, stepping forward to present the register and pointing at a specific entry. "Your Highness, please note here—it records the three brothers' service at the manor. In the second year of Chengsheng, during Grain Rain, they contracted a seasonal epidemic. Their condition was grave, and after over ten days of treatment, there was no improvement. On the fourteenth day, their health rapidly declined, and all three perished within three days."
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