The snow began to fall again. November in Changbai Mountain was always a season of heavy snow, and the weather was bitterly cold. A young page boy, barely ten years old, got up in the middle of the night to relieve himself. Before he could even pull down his pants properly, his little brother had already frozen into an icicle. Hurriedly finding a sheltered corner by a wall, he noticed an old broken cartwheel lying against the base. He urinated on the wooden rim, splashing his shoes wet without a care, then hitched up his pants and ran off. After a few steps, he glanced back—the lights in the upper room were still on, and two silhouettes, one tall and one short, were cast on the window paper, though what they were busy with was unclear. Guards stood watch under the eaves, so he couldn’t get closer to investigate. Faint, broken sobs drifted on the wind, and the boy sniffled twice, recognizing the voice as that of Guard Mu from the Seventh Prince’s household.
Guard Mu was crying so hard she could barely catch her breath, her tears flowing like a flood. The Twelfth Master stood beside her, wringing his hands. "Don’t cry," he said. "I know you’ve been wronged. It’s my fault—I came too late. From now on, you’ll stay by my side. I won’t let you go back to him. Nothing like this will ever happen again." He bent down to wipe her tears, her eyes swollen like walnuts, her heart utterly shattered.
Hongce blamed himself. He hadn’t expected Hongtao to be so vile. Had he known earlier, he would never have let her return. He knew his own temperament well—his tendency to leave room for maneuver was sometimes a virtue, but at other times, it became a liability. Like this time, his indecisiveness had nearly led to disaster. Just thinking about it now filled him with dread.
Wrapped in a quilt, she sat curled in an armchair, her head bowed as she wept quietly, a pitiful sight. Anxious and unsure how to comfort her, he crouched down to look into her face, gently stroking her exposed fingertips. "If you really hate me," he murmured, "hit me a couple of times to vent your anger. The Seventh Lord had everything arranged beforehand—no news leaked out. I only realized something was wrong when I couldn’t find you in your quarters. In my panic, I barged in and stumbled upon the truth by accident. It’s my fault for being slow to notice. Had I acted sooner, you wouldn’t have suffered this."
She lifted her reddened eyes to him. She couldn’t blame him—his hearing was impaired, yet he had still cared enough to come looking for her. Without that concern, who knew what the Seventh Lord might have done to her next? She steadied her breathing. After enduring blow after blow, she had grown far more resilient than most. The incident was fresh, and the pain still raw, but in time, it would fade into insignificance. She tugged at his sleeve, urging him to stand. What kind of sight was this, him crouching like that?
"I know the Seventh Lord is erratic—when he’s in the mood to tease, his tastes aren’t like others’. This isn’t your fault." Yet remembering the Seventh Lord’s final words, despair washed over her again. "I think he might have seen through me. With all the pulling and tugging earlier, I must have given myself away. What do we do now?"
The Twelfth Master said, "Perhaps it’s for the best. Before, I kept trying to cover all bases, and nearly brought disaster upon us. Now that the play has begun, let’s see it through to the end. Our hearts are one—if anything happened to you, I’d blame myself for life. If the Seventh Master knows, so be it. The facts are plain to see. Let him decide how to handle this." He studied her hesitantly, then added, "Wrapping yourself in a quilt won’t do. Let me fetch you some clothes to change into. Don’t go back tonight."
Her eyes shimmered, a flush spreading across her cheeks. Though she knew he didn’t mean it that way, she couldn’t help but feel flustered and shy.He snapped back to reality, feeling utterly embarrassed, and stammered, "I didn't mean... I wasn't... I was just afraid Seventh Lord might bother you again. If you're by my side... I’d feel at ease."
Her mind was in a daze, wishing she could shrink into an olive or a walnut. So much had happened earlier that night—it felt as though her life had been turned upside down in an instant. Her struggles and secrets had been laid bare before everyone, and she had no idea how to move forward. After all, she was still a woman. Once her previous disguise crumbled, she felt as though she had returned to square one, stripped of all pretenses. Her vulnerability was now exposed, and she could no longer muster any strength.
"I understand. I wasn’t thinking anything else, don’t worry," she murmured awkwardly, flushing and lowering her head in silence.
Her hair was loose, revealing the delicate face of a young girl. How had she managed to blend in among men before, indistinguishable from them? It was nothing short of a miracle! When one adored someone too much, they couldn’t bear to look for too long—it made the mind wander. Hastily, he averted his gaze and stepped into the bedchamber. Standing blankly before the kang for a long moment, he finally remembered what he was supposed to do. He approached the wardrobe and rummaged through the clothes for an underrobe—this one too loose, that one of poor fabric. After searching for a while, he found one made of brocade with a subtle cloud pattern. He inspected it thoroughly before hesitantly offering it to her, mumbling, "This was newly made before I left the capital. I’ve only worn it once. You can change into it. And that binding... don’t tighten it anymore, or you’ll hurt yourself."
Dingyi’s face burned as if on fire. Not only had Seventh Lord seen, but Twelfth Master, who had rushed to her rescue, had likely caught a glimpse too. How was she supposed to respond to such an intimate topic? Her head drooped lower and lower, not daring to meet his eyes. In truth, Hongce hadn’t meant the binding in that way—he was worried about her health, that constricting herself for so long would make it hard to breathe. But the more flustered he became, the clumsier his words turned out. Looking back, what on earth had he been saying?
There was no way to explain, so he stood there, frozen. Fortunately, she didn’t dwell on it. Hugging the bedding, she got up and headed into the inner chamber. He rubbed his hands together, standing awkwardly, when Sha Tong peeked in through the door and called out, "Master, I’ve had hot water brought up. Xiaoshu—er, Miss Wen—has had a fright. She should freshen up and rest."
He gave a slight nod and glanced at Sha Tong. "Let her stay in my quarters tonight. Clear the southern kang for me—I’ll make do there."
Sha Tong was stunned, thinking his master was a fool. Knowing how Seventh Lord was watching like a hawk, if they missed this chance and Seventh Lord acted up again, Xiaoshu might not be so lucky next time. Wouldn’t it be better to settle things now? Once it was official, everyone would have to behave. Even Seventh Lord, well-versed in the classics, knew the rules of propriety—one didn’t covet a brother’s wife. But Twelfth Master was a man of virtue. Asking him to take advantage of the situation would only make him uncomfortable, so as a servant, Sha Tong wouldn’t push it. Twelfth Master wasn’t like Seventh Lord—he was clear-headed and wouldn’t be swayed by provocations. He saw things more clearly than Sha Tong ever could. So he simply acknowledged the order and turned to direct the servants to bring in the buckets of hot water. Steam rose from the rims as he ladled water into a basin with a gourd scoop, mixed it to the right temperature, then tapped the carved frame of the floor screen before setting it down outside the curtain.Twelfth Master leaned against the armrest pillow, idly playing with the jade pendant at his waist, his thoughts drifting elsewhere. This time, the commotion was too big to keep under wraps. Fortunately, Seventh Master wasn’t too sharp—he only knew Dingyi was a woman and hadn’t discovered her true identity. As long as this wasn’t revealed, he could keep her by his side for now. Once they returned to the capital, he’d arrange a marriage for her, settle her in a household, and then seek the Emperor’s permission for their own union. That way, she could smoothly enter his family.
But Seventh Master wouldn’t be so easily dealt with. He had even admitted to being a cut-sleeve, and now that he knew the object of his affection was a woman, who knew what trouble he might stir up? The Yuwen family must have had their ancestral feng shui ruined—first, father and son vied for the same woman, and now brothers were undermining each other. Wasn’t this some karmic retribution from a past life? What could be done? Neither was willing to back down, so it would come down to their own abilities. He knew Dingyi’s heart was with him, but he feared she might not withstand Seventh Master’s relentless pursuit.
They had been traveling for months and still hadn’t reached Ningguta. By the time they returned to the capital, half a year would have passed. During this time, they’d be seeing each other constantly, and the thought alone drained his energy.
Sha Tong finished preparing the kang and instructed the servants, “Keep the fire steady, tamp it down so the flames don’t flare up—don’t let the master wake up with blisters tomorrow.” Then he turned and tucked his hands into his sleeves, watching Twelfth Master. “This servant had someone scout Seventh Master’s mood. His Lordship acted as if nothing happened—washed up and went straight to bed. Master, after today’s scene, how do you plan to handle things next time you meet?”
“Handle what?” Twelfth Master curled his index finger and slowly rubbed his lips, unimpressed. “All these years, I’ve served the court on my own merit. Others come to me seeking favors—I’ve never had to bow and scrape to anyone. I’m used to going my own way; having one more or one less brother makes no difference to me. We share the same surname, so I wouldn’t mind conceding on other matters. But when it comes to her, I’m determined to stand my ground against Seventh Master. What kind of man is he? Knowing full well about my relationship with her, he shamelessly tries to snatch her away—does he even see me as his brother? If it weren’t for our blood ties, I’d have sent him across the Naihe Bridge by now.”
Sha Tong was a little unnerved by his master’s dark expression but muttered, “There’s no helping it. Both of you are Imperial Envoys, bound together this time. Staring each other down day after day will be unbearable. How about this—let’s arrange for the young lady to be escorted back to Prince Chun’s Residence first. With her out of sight, the tension between you and Seventh Master might ease. Once the Ningguta assignment is done and we return to Beijing, we can plan further. What do you think?”
He had considered this idea before, but upon reflection, it didn’t sit right with him. He couldn’t rest easy sending her back alone. With the Wen Brothers dead, there was no telling if someone might scheme against her in the shadows. If her identity were exposed and someone moved to eliminate her, he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Even if she were safe within the residence, what if Noble Consort in Langrun Garden found out? Without proper background or status, she’d be looked down upon from the start, and there’d be no recovering from that. What he wanted was a lasting bond—not some frivolous affair.He slowly shook his head, pondered for a moment, and said, "Those who pledge allegiance midway are different from the bondservants of old banner households. To register, one must personally sign and fingerprint. That register is the proof—without it, what's the point of discussing banner status or not? Seventh Lord's lax household management has allowed his captains and lieutenants to muddle through their duties. Send word to Guan Zhaojing and have him find a way to retrieve that register from the Feather Banner. Once he gets it, burning or burying it will do."
This was truly a desperate measure. Twelfth Master had always been an upright man, never engaging in any underhanded dealings since birth. But now, smitten with a woman, he was pulling out all the stops—things he once scorned, he now ordered without batting an eye. They say a woman's marriage is like a second rebirth, but isn't it the same for a man? A good wife with a high-ranking father-in-law could bring glory regardless of whether the son-in-law was a Yellow Belt or Red Belt. But if the wife's family fell into ruin, what could one expect? At best, they wouldn't drag him down for generations—certainly no help could be counted on. Twelfth Master had toiled half his life, only to stumble over this now. Thinking about it, it really wasn't worth it.
Worth it or not, a servant didn't interfere with the master's affairs. The master's word was law—once spoken, it must be obeyed. Sha Tong acknowledged the order with a bow and went to carry it out.
Sitting there, he pinched the bridge of his nose. When he glanced up absentmindedly, he saw her standing by the partition, her hair loosely tied. Small in stature, she wore his clothes, the sleeves and pant legs rolled up several times, giving the impression of being swallowed by the garments.
He stared, momentarily losing his usual composure. Taking a few tentative steps forward, he stopped a few feet away, not daring to overstep. Forcing a smile, he said, "It's late. You should go rest."
"What about you?" she asked pitifully. "Don't go too far. I'm a little scared alone."
Neither wanted to part—such was the sentiment of young lovers, as anyone who'd been there would know. They wished a day had twenty hours, needing neither sleep nor food, just to be together every moment.
His heart swelled quietly as he approached her. She stood there like a child, barely reaching his shoulders, wearing soft slippers. Dressed lightly now, he raised his hand as if to touch her but ultimately withdrew it.
"I won't leave. I'll stay in the outer room," he said, lifting the curtain and gesturing inside. "Go on. I'll stand guard for you. Don't be afraid."
She turned reluctantly, shuffling her feet while glancing back at him. "I'm used to small rooms. In spacious places, I feel unmoored, like there's nothing to hold onto."
Her tone and expression were heartrending. "It's late," he said. "A man and woman alone together isn't proper. You go inside. I'll watch from afar until you settle in. Then you won't be afraid."
Hesitantly, she asked, "Aren't you coming in?"
He pressed his lips together, smiling. "If I reach the kang's edge, I might not leave."
Her face flushed crimson as she grumbled, "Since when did you learn to talk so slickly?"
Hongce chuckled helplessly. What man wasn't flesh and blood? Some things couldn't be explained to her—she might not understand anyway—so he simply humored her. "I know my limits out here. With you, it's not like official dealings. It's only natural to be at ease."
She caught his meaning—he didn't treat her as an outsider. Smiling, she lowered her head. Wearing his clothes and commandeering his bedroom might just be the greatest achievement of her life.Her steps were unusually hesitant, the palace lanterns in the main hall stretching their shadows long. As she moved forward, she thought the distance between them would grow, but stealing a glance, his figure remained by her side. Wasn't he supposed to be watching from afar? Blinking at him, she saw he had already stepped over the threshold. Suddenly realizing it was too late to retreat, he cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing around. "It's cold—I should check if the windows are shut properly... You should get on the kang, don't catch a chill. I'll... tuck you in."
Author's note: Haha zhu zi: Manchu term meaning young servant.
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