Traveling over the mountains by daylight was much easier than at night, and with a brisk pace, they reached the Imperial Manor by midday. Everyone was exhausted, hastily filling their stomachs before collapsing into sleep, not waking until the sun was high in the sky. Seventh Lord rose and stood beneath the corridor practicing his martial arts—straight lines for attack, curves for defense—muttering phrases like "empty the mind to focus strength, create something from nothing." As he moved through his forms, he found himself outside Xiaoshu’s door. It was shut, so he poked a finger through the paper window to peek inside. The kang was empty, the bedding neatly folded. She was nowhere to be seen.
He glanced around but didn’t spot the birdcage. Had she gone outside the manor to walk the birds? Or had she, in her wandering, tangled with Twelfth Master again? Seventh Lord was displeased, irritated by his own suspicions. He decided to head over to Hongce’s place—it almost felt like catching someone in the act, stirring both anger and unease in him. Today, he needed to make things clear: Mu Xiaoshu was his. If Twelfth Master kept meddling, he wouldn’t hold back his fury.
Abandoning his martial arts, he turned toward Twelfth Master’s quarters. Sha Tong and Ha Gang stood guard outside, stiff-backed and solemn, like the temple’s guardian deities. Composing himself, Seventh Lord strode over with measured steps and loudly cleared his throat. Sha Tong, ever sharp-eyed, spotted him and sprang into action like a wound-up clockwork toy, bounding forward in quick strides.
"Seventh Lord, you’ve come?" he greeted with a grin, bowing deeply. "You look invigorated—must’ve just finished your practice. Here to see our master? Let me brew you some tea. Won’t you come inside and sit?"
Seventh Lord gave a noncommittal hum, then cut to the chase. "Tongzi, have you seen our Xiaoshu?"
Sha Tong, being Twelfth Master’s trusted aide, was sharp-witted beyond compare. He understood the tangled dynamics between Mu Xiaoshu, Seventh Lord, and his own master all too well. This was shaping up to be a classic rivalry—Seventh Lord, a man of experience, against his young and inexperienced master. How should he handle this?
He shook his head. "Haven’t seen Guard Mu. She tends to your birds, doesn’t she? Birdkeepers rise early—she’s probably out walking them. Even in this cold, birds need to stretch their voices. Leave them idle too long, and they’ll forget how to sing."
Seventh Lord ignored his playful deflection. The more Sha Tong claimed not to have seen her, the more convinced he became that Xiaoshu was inside with Twelfth Master. Without another word, he lifted the hem of his robe and stepped inside. A bronze incense burner sat on the table, its sandalwood smoke curling through the room. He disliked the scent and instinctively covered his nose.
Twelfth Master wasn’t in the main room. Just as Seventh Lord was about to search for him, the younger man emerged from the inner chamber, lifting his head briefly to call out, "Seventh Brother," before focusing on examining his own hand.
Sha Tong’s sharp eyes caught it—Twelfth Master had a deep gash across his palm, blood steadily welling up. Startled, he quickly pulled out a handkerchief and wrapped the wound.
Seventh Lord, baffled, blinked. "Run into an assassin? How’d you manage this?" As he spoke, he stepped further inside, lifting the curtain to scan the room. The floor was strewn with thin bamboo strips, but no one else was there. Relieved that Xiaoshu wasn’t present, he relaxed and smiled warmly. "You ought to be more careful. In this cold, wounds don’t heal well. What were you even doing? Look at all these bamboo slivers and knives."
Hongce replied vaguely, "Nothing, just tinkering." He hastily poured tea and gestured for him to sit. "Seventh Brother, what brings you here so early?"Seventh Lord said it was nothing, "After finishing my martial arts practice, I wandered around and ended up here." He glanced at Hongce, who was sipping tea with an air of calm detachment. Seventh Lord pondered for a moment—Xiaoshu and Twelfth Master had been meeting too frequently, and Xiaoshu still refused to agree to his proposal. If this continued, trouble was bound to arise sooner or later. Twelfth Master might seem quiet and unassuming, but the most dangerous dogs bark the least. If he kept being the only one pushing forward while they grew closer, it would be hard to separate them later.
He moistened his lips, deciding to exaggerate his intimate encounters with Xiaoshu when speaking to Hongce. Promises could wait—when it came to claiming someone, the early bird got the worm. Clearing his throat, he said, "Well… I had quite a long talk with Xiaoshu yesterday. He’s always trusted you—did he mention anything to you?"
Hongce showed little reaction, merely smoothing his sleeves as he replied, "No. What did Seventh Brother say to him?"
Seventh Lord grinned. "Me? I’ve seen and done everything in this lifetime. If others have it, I must have it too—and if they don’t, I’ll be the first. That Xiaoshu kid—I’ve taken a liking to him and plan to take him into my household. What do you think? Having a male concubine in my estate would set a precedent in the Great Britain Imperial Clan, wouldn’t it?" He preened with self-satisfaction. "I know many dare to think but not act on such things, but I’ve never been one to fear consequences. Once we return to the capital, I’ll make arrangements. My servants are mine to handle as I please—no one else has a say."
Twelfth Master had long mastered the art of concealing his emotions. Seventh Lord studied him carefully after speaking, but his expression remained indifferent. His hand merely paused briefly before he resumed skimming tea leaves with the lid, replying mildly, "Seventh Brother should think twice. After all, such matters aren’t exactly honorable. You are indeed the master, but since you claim to care for him, shouldn’t you consider his feelings? What does he say? Does he know of your intentions?"
"Of course he knows—I’ve brought it up before. He’s shy, reluctant to agree outright, but that bashful look of his is utterly endearing…" He smacked his lips and tilted his head with a sly chuckle. "Let me tell you, yesterday I even stole a kiss—his little mouth tasted quite nice. This is the first time I’ve taken a liking to a man. I know it’s improper, but I can’t help it. When love runs deep, there’s no room for regret—something you wouldn’t understand."
Beneath his archer’s sleeves, Hongce’s hands slowly clenched. Why had Seventh Master come here to tell him this? A warning? A boast? He knew Dingyi’s predicament, but regret came too late now. If only he had kept him by his side from the start, they wouldn’t have taken such a winding path. This misstep was entirely his fault.
Seventh Master was the type to take unorthodox risks, daring to interfere without understanding the full picture—a boldness one had to admire. Among brothers, harmony shouldn’t be lightly broken. Past conflicts had only involved power and profit, and he had been willing to yield, even at a personal cost. But this time was different. Wealth and status could be regained, but losing someone he loved would haunt him for life.
He could never let go.He hadn’t been in a hurry before, understanding her grief over losing a loved one and not demanding her immediate acceptance. But when Seventh Master suddenly made his move, it forced him to confront this issue head-on. Dingyi had always been in a vulnerable position. When faced with injustice, she would feel miserable, but after the pain, she had to swallow it because she lacked the ability to fight back. The way Hongtao acted, even going out of his way to inform him—if not for his own restraint, he would have rolled up his sleeves and given him a good beating. That spoiled, arrogant bastard never considered others’ feelings. Usually, when brothers competed for dominance, everyone yielded to him, and he only grew more insufferable, refusing to tolerate anyone else. If he were a man of lasting affection, it might be bearable for Dingyi to follow him. Unfortunately, he was unreliable—when he liked someone, they were perfect in every way, but once the novelty wore off, they were tossed aside. Dingyi had suffered hardships since childhood. If she spent the rest of her life waiting, it would be more bitter than coptis root.
“I don’t understand these things. Seventh Brother is the expert—I’m shallow in experience and lack such skills. But as members of the imperial family, our first duty is to uphold the responsibilities on our shoulders. What you’re doing…” He smiled faintly. “I’m afraid I can’t agree with it.”
Pure jealousy! Seventh Lord remained smug, convinced he had struck Twelfth Master’s weak spot—this kid was just trying to pin crimes on him! He stroked his chin. “I know I’m a bit of a troublemaker, and this flaw isn’t new. Whether it’s my brothers or even Father, who doesn’t know it? Even if I go too far, the worst I’ll get is being called ‘Seventh the Reckless.’ Let them scold me—it’s not like I’ll lose a piece of flesh.”
Hongce pressed his lips together and said nothing more, shifting his gaze elsewhere. He simply couldn’t comprehend why someone who had achieved nothing could make everyone accommodate him. He himself worked a hundred times harder yet still couldn’t match even half of him. Fate played favorites—the heavens were no different from eunuchs!
Seventh Lord was thoroughly pleased with himself. His goal was to make Hongce unhappy—if Hongce was miserable, he was happy. Xiaoshu hiding away would only fuel Twelfth Master’s longing. That kiss yesterday was like the Manchus’ Mountain Opening—once it was in his hands, it was his, and Hongce could only stare helplessly! Left speechless, wasn’t he? The rivalry between brothers began today. Everything else could be negotiated, but Xiaoshu was non-negotiable. Back in Shengjing, he had tried others—men and women alike—but none suited him. Only Xiaoshu’s door was the right one. If he let her slip away, wouldn’t he be stifled to death for the rest of his life?
Each brother lost in their own thoughts, neither speaking. Seventh Lord sat for a while longer before taking his leave. Hongce stood motionless in the center of the room, his resolve firm. He turned decisively and strode into the inner chamber, his mood foul. With a forceful swipe, he flung the curtain aside, the felt lifting high behind him.
The day passed uneventfully. After walking her birds, Dingyi spent her time indoors making tassels. Seventh Lord had come looking for her, but she feigned illness to avoid him. Twelfth Master had said he would make up for her birthday tonight—they were both born on the Double Ninth Festival. Since it was his birthday too, she ought to give him something. She couldn’t afford anything expensive, and she lacked the skill to embroider pouches or handkerchiefs. But she had once learned to weave decorative knots. Passing through Qingyuan, she had bought some beaded and gold threads—she could make a few tassels. Let Twelfth Master hang them on his sword or pouch. Though small, they were a token of her heart.Eagerly waiting for dusk, the sky darkened bit by bit. Peering over several rows of houses, the Prince's residence was too far away, barely visible through the fine flurries of snow. It was worlds apart—she was merely dreaming now. She'd spun herself a tale, enjoyed the fantasy, and that was enough. In this lifetime, she would only ever meet one Twelfth Master. Her wistful, cloud-like sentiments could be savored slowly in the days to come.
At the first watch's clapper sound, the time had come. She wrapped the tassel in a handkerchief and checked her appearance in the mirror before leaving. It was a pity she couldn't wear women's attire. Without rouge, she made do with red paper, pressing it to her lips to add some color.
Heading straight south from the Imperial Manor, she had scouted the path earlier while walking her birds in the morning. It was originally a threshing ground—a vast open space spanning over ten acres. In the depths of winter, it lay unused, blanketed in snow, appearing pure and soft like silk padding within armor.
But after standing there for a long while, she saw no one nearby. Anxiety crept in—had she mistaken the time? Why was there no movement? Or had the Twelfth Master forgotten, leaving her foolishly disappointed?
Just as she hesitated, the faint sound of a deer whistle reached her ears. Turning around, the ground beneath the distant glow of firelight curved into a slight arc. Out of nowhere, numerous Kongming lanterns of varying sizes, covered in multicolored oiled paper, rose slowly into the sky, one after another, forming a constellation.
With a delighted gasp, she hurried after them. The lanterns ascended higher and higher. Tilting her head back, she watched as the mutton-fat candles at their bases sizzled and burned, drifting leisurely overhead. Squinting, she followed their flight, her heart soaring with them.
In the past, watching lanterns or scenery had merely been joining in others' revelry, with no real connection to herself. But now, fortune had turned. Like a leading lady on stage, aware of her own importance, the feeling was entirely different.
The snowflakes weren't thick clumps but fine and dense, sweeping past like a veil of mist. Through the haze, she glimpsed a tall figure carrying a horn lantern, strolling leisurely from afar. She took a few steps forward, then paused, smiling as she waited for him beneath the sea of lanterns.
The Twelfth Master wore a dark blue floral-patterned fox-fur-lined archer's sleeve. Despite the cold, he hadn't donned a cape, looking as sharp and spirited as ever. The soft lantern light illuminated his face, his brows relaxed and eyes bright, exuding an indescribable grace. As he drew nearer, standing face to face, his gaze lingered on her features before he turned to watch the lanterns rising through the snow. "Do you like them?" he asked.
Dingyi was deeply moved. How could she not? "I've never had a birthday like this," she said. "In the past, my master would boil two eggs for me—that was the happiest I could hope for. I never dreamed of lanterns. Candles are so expensive; lighting one Kongming lantern could sustain a household for half a month... Twelfth Master, the Imperial Manor is so remote. Where did you find so many lanterns?"
Hongce smiled faintly. "I had all the materials. No need to buy them—I made them myself, just as I pleased."
She gasped in surprise. "So many! How long did it take you?"
"After returning from the Aha Camp, I spent a day and night making a hundred and eight," he replied. "You're eighteen now—the number suits the occasion."One hundred and eight lanterns, starting from splitting bamboo strips, assembling the frames, pasting the covers, and tying the wax candles—it took tremendous effort. He hadn’t slept for a full day and night, no wonder there were dark circles under his eyes. Dingyi’s heart was a tumult of emotions—he was a Prince, why would he go to such lengths for her? Hesitantly, she murmured, “This servant isn’t worthy of Twelfth Master’s kindness. I’m a fugitive, and the fact that you haven’t condemned me is already more than I could ever repay.”
His eyes shimmered with a soft glow as a slow smile spread across his face. “I don’t care about your past, and you shouldn’t mind my deafness. Life is hard enough—we each have our own misfortunes. Don’t be fooled by my noble status. Though I earned this iron hat through my own blood and sweat, it still owes much to having an Emperor Emeritus for a father and an Emperor for an elder brother.” He lowered his gaze to study her. The light from the horn lantern spilled over her face—pale, gentle, and lovely. Tentatively, he covered her fingertips with his hand. “Dingyi…”
She trembled violently. That name had long been sealed away, and hearing it from his lips brought back memories of her departed parents and brother. Unable to hold back, tears streamed down her face.
He watched her cry in silence, offering no empty comfort, only feeling a sharp ache in his chest. Grasping her hand, his thumb traced tender circles over her knuckles. The lantern lay forgotten at their feet as he reached up to wipe her tears. Her skin was so delicate it made his heart tremble. With a heavy sigh, he murmured, “Take good care of yourself. I can only imagine what a breathtaking beauty you must have been… I’m not good with pretty words. Seeing you cry feels like needles stabbing my heart—do you understand this pain? Your past eighteen years were too bitter, and though I wasn’t there for them, I want to share the next thirty-eight, forty-eight years with you.”
When handling official duties or presiding over trials, his stern demeanor was a necessity imposed by his position. But stripped of his responsibilities, he was still a shy man at heart—one who rarely spoke to women casually, let alone delivered lengthy confessions. Dingyi was different. While sheltered maidens were charming in their own way, a woman like her, who had endured suffering yet remained unbroken, commanded far greater respect.
She looked up in bewilderment to find his cheeks flushed but his gaze clear and resolute. Dizzy, she wondered if she’d lost her senses. The nature of their relationship had always been elusive—separated by a thin layer of paper, seemingly fragile yet unyielding as a fortress. Just when she thought it would remain so, he shattered the illusion with his confession, leaving her scarcely able to believe it was real.
“Twelfth Master…”
His finger brushed her lips, silencing her. “I have a name. Originally, our generation used the character ‘Dong’—Dongli, Dongqi, Dongsheng, and so on. But after my second brother ascended the throne, we had to avoid the imperial taboo and changed ‘Dong’ to ‘Hong.’ So my name is Hongce.” He smiled at her. “From now on, call me by my name. ‘Twelfth Master’ is too distant, too impersonal.”Dingyi's heart pounded uncontrollably as she stared at him in astonishment, unable to speak. He pursed his lips into a smile. "Such a clever girl, struck dumb? Or have I frightened you?" he whispered softly. "I don't have Seventh Lord's silver tongue, nor do I know how to please people. The palace has tried several times to arrange marriages for me, but I've always found excuses to refuse. That's why I still haven't welcomed a Princess Consort. Being disabled myself, it took immense courage to be this frank with you. I feared putting you in an awkward position, afraid I might disgrace you. Though I'm unworthy, my feelings for you are genuine. Now I can only promise you this—I will never betray you in this lifetime... I know this is terribly abrupt. I don't expect an immediate answer. This concerns your entire life, so think it over carefully before deciding."
Her lips trembled slightly as she gently squeezed his fingertips. How could she refuse? From the very first moment she saw him, he had been imprinted on her heart. She simply couldn't believe such happiness had come to her. She felt lost in time, yet clearly understood—while he could decide for himself, he couldn't dictate the entire Imperial Clan's stance. But even without their approval, having heard these words from him, she would die content.
Gazing into his eyes, she saw his face more clearly than ever through the watery veil. "I'm the daughter of a disgraced official," she said. "With my father and brother's crimes never cleared, I can never step into the light. I used to hope the Wen family would be vindicated, but now that Ruliang and the others are dead, whether the case is overturned no longer matters... If I stay with you, I fear I'm reaching beyond my station. But I know my own heart—I... want to be with you. I've always liked you." Her face burned crimson, yet her gaze never wavered. She felt like a Batulu warrior of the grasslands—once timid, now unprecedentedly brave. Hearing her own trembling voice, she continued, "My status prevents me from appearing openly by your side, and I don't want to cause you trouble. Find me a place in some alley... I'll be your unofficial companion."
OpenNovel