Love in Red Dust

Chapter 87

Entering the palace late at night, he had his own plans. He requested an imperial decree to go to Khalkha, unwilling to stay in the capital for even a day longer.

The Emperor naturally granted his request. The pacification of the northern deserts was inevitable, with troops, horses, and provisions already fully prepared. All that remained was the appointment of a fierce general to lead the campaign. As for who this general would be, the choice was yet to be finalized, but none other than Hongce came to mind. As the court’s trusted officials put it, Prince Chun had governed Khalkha for over a decade and knew the region like the back of his hand. It was only fitting that the same man should serve the court once more.

The Emperor’s thoughts were something he had long discerned. The reason the decree had not been issued immediately was precisely because of his many years stationed in Ulaanbaatar. Logically speaking, as a man with a half-crippled body, he should not have been the one assigned. Thus, the Emperor waited, anticipating his voluntary request—this way, both loyalty and righteousness could be upheld. The Emperor embodied heavenly virtue, while Prince Chun demonstrated unwavering devotion to the state, ensuring both would emerge with their reputations intact.

Whether he left sooner or later made little difference—he was bound to go. Resolute, he mustered troops overnight, leading thirty thousand men from the capital to rendezvous with the border garrison in Uliastai. Since the Emperor had made preparations, there would be no worries about the rear. Accepting the military orders, he set out north with his troops at dawn the next day.

By the fifth watch, the sky had barely brightened. Dingyi, drowsy and leaning against the kang, faintly heard the booming of cannons, shaking the house with their reverberations. Already sleeping lightly, the noise roused her, and her mind stirred awake, recalling the events of the previous night—truth and illusion tangled like a dream.

Unable to sleep any longer, she propped herself up and called for Bao’er, but it was Sha Tong who entered.

“Has the mistress awakened? How are you feeling now?” Sha Tong hurried over to drape a warm coat over her. “Since the imperial physician wasn’t summoned yesterday, the servants brewed some qi-nourishing and blood-replenishing medicine for you. This servant will have it brought in. A minor confinement is even more taxing than a major one—please rest well and don’t leave the bed.”

She shook her head, motioning for him to set the medicine aside. “What was that noise just now? Where were the cannons firing?”

Standing in the candlelight, Sha Tong seemed on the verge of tears. “The court has mobilized troops to aid the Khalkha Khan in quelling the rebellion. This morning, the Grand General led his army to war—those were the ceremonial cannons to see them off. This servant was supposed to accompany them, but the Twelfth Master said the mistress must not be left unattended, so he ordered me to stay…”

She sat rigidly, her blood running cold. “The Grand General leading the campaign—is it the Twelfth Master?”

Sha Tong affirmed with a nod, nearly blurting out several times but holding back, not wishing to distress her further in her weakened state—that the Twelfth Master had personally requested the decree in the palace, spurred by agitation.

Yet even without his words, Dingyi understood. She had driven him away. Without a farewell, he had gone to the distant northern deserts. It seemed as though he had spent these dozen years in constant motion, traversing paths many would never complete in a lifetime.

Outside, the sky was still dim. The oil lamp cast its glow over half the room, the recesses of tables and cabinets sinking into darkness while the raised edges gleamed with a golden trim.

Leaning against the armrest pillow, she found herself unable to cry. She had brought this upon herself! Even if she died, it wouldn’t matter—but she must not bring harm upon him. She asked Sha Tong, “Who else is accompanying him?”Sha Tong said, "The Emperor has assigned Grand Secretaries from the Neige, Grand Council officials, and infantry wing commanders to assist the Twelfth Master. You needn't worry, my lady—those men are all battle-hardened veterans who'll serve the Twelfth Master well. It's just... this servant feels wretched. For ten years in Khalkha, I've always been by the Twelfth Master's side. This time he didn't take me along, and I... I feel like a stray dog with no home to return to."

She slumped back against the armrest pillow. "It's because of me. Yesterday I made him terribly angry."

Sha Tong looked up, opening his mouth as if to speak, then after some thought decided he must comfort her. "It's not because of that," he said. "The Twelfth Master's mother was a princess from the Sain Noyon tribe. A prince's circumstances are closely tied to his maternal family. When trouble arises in his mother's clan, if he doesn't step in to handle it, who will? Khalkha is like a burr now—one way or another, it's stuck to the Twelfth Master. When they're quiet for a few days, he can rest in the capital. But at the first sign of trouble there, he'll be the first to bear the brunt. So whether you two quarreled or not, he'd still have to go to Khalkha. For now, don't concern yourself with anything. Just focus on recovering your health—that would be the greatest kindness you could show him."

She could tell Sha Tong actually blamed her. Servants care for their masters, and he'd witnessed all the rejections the Twelfth Master had faced from her these past days. To others, it might seem she was making trouble for no reason, throwing away a good life. Even if her entire family had died one by one, since Hongce was innocent, she should still have married into the Yuwen family.

How easily said. What kind of strong heart could endure that?

She loved Hongce—that had never changed. It was just that in the end, circumstances made it impossible for them to be together.

She lowered her head, lost in thought. Every plant and tree here had been arranged by him. After Prince Chun's household recalled all the eunuchs and maids, she'd been left completely alone.

"Now that the Twelfth Master has gone to the northern deserts and the child is gone, there's nothing left between us. Please summon my master for me. Withdraw all your people—tomorrow I'll move out, and you can send someone to reclaim the house."

Sha Tong panicked. "Don't jest with this servant, my lady! In your condition, where could you possibly go? Don't you know the Twelfth Master's character? In his heart, you are his Princess Consort. No matter what hardships came before, no matter what harsh words were spoken, his feelings won't change. He grieves for the lost child—anyone would. The depth of his care for you, which others may not see, this servant knows well. How can you harden your heart like this?"

Unmoved, she said, "What you said earlier was wrong. In truth, I'm the real stray dog with no home."

Sha Tong froze, staring at her blankly. Seeing her resolve was firm, he had no choice but to obey and went to the prince's residence to summon Wu Changgeng.

When her master arrived, Xiazhi naturally came too, eyeing her up and down. Dingyi felt guilty and turned away, dismissing everyone else before inviting her master to sit.

Wu Changgeng expressed concern for her health. Flustered, she gave an evasive reply that she was doing better.

Wu Changgeng nodded. "Then rest well and recover. This morning the Prince left the capital. The two of you... now have no formal ties. The Twelfth Master's campaign will last at least a year, possibly three to five. You must make your own plans."Dingyi said, "I've already made it clear to him. Once he leaves, he won't have anything to do with me anymore. I want to move out, but I don't have the means to arrange it myself. I'll put up five thousand taels of silver and ask Master to help me buy a house so I can settle down."

Wu Changgeng clicked his tongue. "Why go to such lengths? Even though you didn't have a formal wedding, you've already had a child together. The two of you are bound together for life, tangled beyond unraveling. If you want to pull out now, why didn't you think of it earlier?"

She stammered, "It's precisely because the child is gone that it's better to make a clean break..."

"Gone for real?" Xiazhi suddenly interjected. "Twelfth Master left in too much of a hurry—I didn't get to see him. Tell me, were you playing tricks? Where did that chicken blood come from?"

She gasped. "What chicken blood? Are you delirious?"

"Don't lie to me." Xiazhi turned to Wu Changgeng. "Master, she asked me for a live chicken yesterday. I ignored her, thinking she'd give up, but who knew she'd still manage to get her way." He turned back to her. "Tell me, what did you need a live chicken for? Faking a miscarriage and slaughtering a chicken—how capable of you! Now you've made a mess of things and driven him away. How do you plan to clean this up?"

Wu Changgeng was utterly dumbfounded. "Such a thing happened? Xiaoshu, you..." He was so angry he couldn't speak, pointing at her for a long while before finally saying, "You've dug your own grave. How could you joke about the child? It's still there, yet you said it's gone. What will you do when it's born? This child is of royal blood—do you want it to grow up outside the family? I know you're struggling, but you really didn't think this through."

She covered her face with her hands and whispered, "Being with him means dealing with the Yuwen family, and I'm afraid—I don't want to see them. I once told him I'd rather be his mistress. Why? Because I wanted to hide my background. Revealing it would do no one any good. But things have spiraled beyond what I imagined, and I can't control the situation anymore. Rujian meant well—he wanted to overturn the case and let me openly become his Princess Consort. But now, look, can I still hold that position? I know the Wen family's enemy is only Prince Zhuang, but that's just fooling myself. Prince Zhuang is the main branch—he's intricately connected to those in the Imperial Clan. Otherwise, why would someone send Twelfth Master a spirit tablet after Prince Zhuang was imprisoned? If I insist on being with him, he won't have a place in the capital. What then? All the hard, thankless tasks will be dumped on him, and he's still a Prince, after all!"

Wu Changgeng fell silent. What she said wasn't entirely without reason. A young girl, facing such matters with no one to consult, had to rely on her own judgment. Sometimes, when trapped in a corner with no way out, she would act according to her own thoughts. Many things in this world are hard to judge as right or wrong—it's just a matter of perspective.

"Since you've made up your mind, you should move out as soon as possible. Staying won't solve anything. When the Imperial Clan Office comes to investigate the child and Twelfth Master isn't here, you'll be in a tough spot." He paused, then added, "But you need to understand—leaving is easy, but once you're out, you'll never set foot in Prince Chun's residence again. In the future, Twelfth Master's marriages and children will have nothing to do with you. Can you bear that?"Upon hearing this, she burst into tears and sobbed, "I know, I just have no luck. Missing out on someone as good as him means there's nothing left for me in the future. I've made up my mind—like Hailan, I won’t seek anyone else in this lifetime. I’ll raise my child well and won’t even think about having him recognized by his ancestors. Being an ordinary person isn’t so bad. As for the Twelfth Master marrying and having children, that’s only right. He deserves a good girl, someone from a decent family who can support him."

At this point, no one could help her. Wu Changgeng sighed and led Xiazhi out together.

Finding a house was honestly not that easy. It had to be affordable and satisfactory—where could one be found so quickly? Dingyi was pressing urgently, so they had no choice but to rally everyone to inquire through the alleys. But after looking at several places, none were satisfactory. As the sun was about to set, they decided to head back and continue the search the next day. Yet, upon returning to the Prince’s residence, Lu Shenchen from the administrative office stopped him.

"Don’t bother looking anymore. Just now, the Sixth Prince sent word—our master had previously entrusted him to redeem the Wen Family Compound. The current owner is one of his bondservants, so it was settled with just a word." Lu Shenchen handed him a large set of keys. "The place has been vacated. The previous tenant was Heng Tai, the Vice Minister of Revenue. The house has been well-maintained, sturdy against wind and rain, and ready to move into."

Wu Changgeng held the keys and murmured, "The Prince’s kindness..."

Lu Shenchen shook his head. "Why go through all this trouble to reclaim the old house? First, to ease the Princess Consort’s heart—the Prince is a kind man. Second, I suspect he just couldn’t let go. If she’s drifting out there, what if one day he wants to find her and she’s gone? It’d be a hassle searching the world over. The Wen Family Compound is the Princess Consort’s roots—as long as the roots remain, she won’t disappear. The Twelfth Master is pitiful; it’s his first time experiencing something like this, and it’s been so hard. How could he not lose heart?"

Wu Changgeng also shook his head. "Who could say otherwise? It’s tough for everyone."

Delivering the keys to Wine and Vinegar Bureau Alley, it was already late, so he didn’t enter himself but handed them to a young eunuch instead. The eunuch carried them to the rear courtyard, where Dingyi was still under the lamplight, learning to sew children’s clothes. Hearing the announcement, she hurriedly hid the fabric.

Sha Tong brought the keys in and explained the whole story. She said nothing, merely waving him away. The keys lay on the kang table before her—utterly unfamiliar, no longer the original ones. Yet, as she stared at them, tears began to flow uncontrollably.

It wasn’t about getting the old house back. Truthfully, she didn’t care about that. What was lost in the past was gone—no need to dwell on it. If there was any regret, it was that Rujian hadn’t lived to see this day. What pained her most was Hongce. He was always like this—clearly, they had agreed to part ways, so why was he still arranging things for her? Just as he once said, he was used to saving her, looking out for her. The more he did so, the more she felt she owed him.

Inside the kang cabinet’s drawer was a sheepskin map. She unrolled it and measured inch by inch under the candlelight. She had studied this map dozens of times. The Khalkha territory wasn’t vast, lying north of Great Britain. Crossing Inner Mongolia to the border was about the same distance as from Beijing to Shengjing. But if one were to venture deep into the heartland for battle, then Ulaanbaatar would be akin to another Ningguta.I heard Khalkha is bitterly cold. He left in such a hurry—I wonder if he packed enough warm clothes. The army moves slowly; the journey will take two or three months. By then, the baby will be five months along and starting to show. I hope he succeeds in this campaign, swiftly conquers Khalkha, and returns victorious soon. Though I dare not hope to see him, just knowing he’s safe would put my mind at ease while raising our child.

"Your father isn’t just a prince on official duty—he’s also the Great General Prince," she said with a smile, stroking her belly. "By the time he returns, you’ll probably have grown teeth and learned to walk. When he rides into the city, Mama will take you to see him. The one on the tallest horse, the most dashing and handsome—that’ll be him." She counted on her fingers. "The round trip alone will take seven or eight months, and with the fighting, if all goes well, he’ll be back in two years. Two years… not too long. But… I already miss him."