Outside the door, Xiao Qingzhu was spread-eagled against it, her ear pressed tightly to the crack, holding her breath.
Little Chair had committed the ultimate offense—she had actually dared to hit Second Brother.
Even executing her entire clan nine times over wouldn’t be enough for this.
Then again, Xiao Qingzhu reconsidered—would Second Brother even have the heart to do it?
Listening to the lively voices inside, she suddenly felt a lonely pang—us single dogs really do have it rough.
Yun Yi shielded herself and said, “Get out!”
In truth, Xiao Zhi hadn’t seen anything. He’d been splashed square in the face, his eyes soaked. He wiped them with his sleeve, but his sleeve was wet too—the more he wiped, the more disheveled he looked.
“If I walk out like this, won’t I be a laughingstock?”
“You brought this on yourself. Go, go!”
“Then what if I turn around?” He obediently spun around.
“No way—the pool reflects!”
Xiao Zhi glanced sideways. The mother-of-pearl-inlaid pool wall shimmered with rippling water—how could he possibly see her?
“I truly can’t see you. Don’t you trust the word of the Son of Heaven? My word is my bond.”
“Spare me the feudal imperial authority talk.”
“…” No use persuading her.
Xiao Zhi had no choice but to defend himself: “You’re as thin as a strand of kelp. Even if I wanted to be a lecher—wanted to look at you—there’s really nothing much to see.”
“You!!!”
Yun Yi exploded.
Listen to what he said—was he calling her flat-chested?
After confirming repeatedly that the Emperor wouldn’t turn around, Yun Yi climbed out of the pool. Looking at his drenched back, she threw on her clothes.
“Don’t you dare look—if you do, you’re a—”
This was her 101st time emphasizing it. Xiao Zhi finished her sentence: “A dog.”
That was more like it.
Yun Yi walked as she dried her hair, her stride stirring the air, causing the candle flames in the bronze lotus lamps to flicker. Xiao Zhi caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye—the shadow at his feet, like a creeping vine, tangled with his own.
“Alright.”
“Not angry anymore?” The Emperor examined her carefully. “I was in a rush and didn’t think it through—I came in. I was too forward with you…”
Before he could finish his apology, a small whirlwind swept past him—she dashed out the door in a flurry, leaving the Emperor alone.
The door had barely closed when it cracked open again, and that round little head poked back in—
Her cheeks flushed with vibrant energy, she declared triumphantly: “I’ve seen you bathing too—we’re even~”
Xiao Zhi: “…”
It was nearly midnight, yet the retreat palace was still lively.
Xiao Qingzhu insisted on sharing a bed with Yun Yi.
The two young ladies lay down.
Their “bedtime chat” was interrupted by a thin, reedy eunuch’s voice. Wang Delan announced from outside: “His Majesty says there are wolves and tigers in the mountains that specifically like to snatch young ladies.”
Xiao Qingzhu was both timid and afraid of the dark. She hugged Yun Yi tightly and said, “This princess has Little Chair as her armor.”
“…” Having failed to carry out his master’s orders, Wang Delan slunk back in defeat.
The Emperor sat at the head of the bed, his hair loose. The bed was new—he wasn’t used to it and couldn’t sleep.
Wang Delan shook his head: “Your Majesty, this servant couldn’t persuade them.”
“She’s not afraid?”
“The princess said Miss Yun is her armor—she’s not afraid.”
“Who asked about her?!” So what if Xiao Qingzhu was scared out of her wits? What business was that of the Emperor?
Wang Delan: This salary is hard-earned!
.
The spring hunt began.
Outside the hunting grounds, by a stream with a pavilion, the ladies walked along the brook, chatting and laughing.
Yue Ying caught sight of the young eunuch beside the princess and her eyes lit up: “Ah, Little Chair!”
She even forgot to greet the princess.
Her mother, Madam Yu—wife of the Censor-in-Chief—hastily curtseyed and dragged her daughter over to apologize to the princess.
“Madam Yu, no need for such formality.” Xiao Qingzhu gave a slight nod of her chin.
Seeing the princess put on her full regal airs, Yun Yi bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a laugh.
If this were the modern era, Xiao Qingzhu would be like a high schooler playing grown-up.
The young ladies left the officials’ wives behind and gathered by the stream to pick out pretty stones.
Yun Yi, as the princess’s attendant eunuch, mingled with the maidservants.
She found a stick that felt good in her hand, treated it like a magic wand, stepped over to a tree, and whipped through a few “hee-hee-ha-ha” moves.
Yue Ying observed her movements and sidled up: “What are you doing?”
Yun Yi: “This stick looks nice—I want to keep it.”
Yue Ying took the stick, examined it, and though she didn’t understand the little eunuch’s thought process, she respected it.
“Hey.” She used the stick to scratch a few lines of writing in the sandy soil by the stream, as if talking to Yun Yi.
Yun Yi kept firmly in mind her identity as a eunuch—speak little, listen much to the young ladies.
Yue Ying: “I’ve written a story but can’t decide on a title. Can you help me choose?”
Two titles were indeed written in the fine sand:
The Fox-Tail Studio
Divine Fox: A Comic Tale of Strange Beings
Yun Yi studied Yue Ying—an ancient version of Wu Cheng’en, Pu Songling, or Nanling Xiaoxiaosheng?
Good heavens, the daughter of the Censor-in-Chief was a novelist.
Yue Ying pointed to her own eyes with the tip of the stick and said: “I saw you disappear with my own eyes. Are you a fox spirit?”
“…” Yun Yi was silent for a moment. “Miss Yue must have been mistaken.”
Yue Ying’s smile widened: “Alright, alright, this young lady was mistaken. So, the title—which one do you pick?”
Her story’s protagonist was a little fox with a broken tail who accidentally wandered into the demon realm and met an equally wounded Demon Lord. The soft-hearted little fox saved him.
The little fox represented Little Chair, while the Demon Lord stood for the current Emperor.
This was Yue Ying’s first attempt at a dual-male-lead novel, and she was completely absorbed in the artistic world she had created, oblivious to all else.
Yun Yi: “I’ve thought of a title: I Used My Fox Tail to Fish Up a Demon Lord.”
Yue Ying’s eyes sparkled.
So cute! So adorable!
She sat on a large streamside rock, wet the tip of her brush with creek water, and began writing fluidly in a homemade rice-paper notebook.
How inconvenient—if only she had modern paper and pens, then Great Author Yue could create with ease.
Her handwriting flowed like the stream itself, smooth and effortless. After finishing a satisfying chapter, she suddenly remembered something and quickly pulled two bits of silver from her sleeve, mysteriously handing them to Yun Yi.
“Hey, this is for you and—” she glossed over the name, “—the first ten chapters were copied into forty volumes and sold out instantly. Don’t think it’s too little—I take forty percent, you get thirty, and the remaining thirty goes to… ahem, well, you’d better just keep it yourself.”
Yun Yi was speechless. So Yue Ying had written a novel starring her and Xiao Zhi, and was even sharing the royalties with them?
She looked at the bits of silver in Yue Ying’s hand—would the Emperor care about such scraps?
“Take it.” Yue Ying pressed them toward her.
Yun Yi didn’t take them: “Miss Yue, keep it for your brushes and ink.”
The proud young lady, rebuffed by a mere eunuch, feigned indignation: “How dare you, you little eunuch—are you looking down on my silver? This is a novel I wrote word by word, without eating or sleeping! You absolutely must take it—”
She insisted on forcing Little Chair to accept it, shoving her hand forward and stuffing the two bits of silver into the front of “his” robe.
Her fingertip brushed against a small, subtle rise beneath the fabric.
Yue Ying: “?”
Yue Ying: “.”
Yue Ying: “!”
Little Chair was a girl?!
Her eyes grew wider and wider, her gaze fixed on Yun Yi’s chest, scanning back and forth.
Yun Yi was mortified, her face turning red on the spot: “Shh…”
Yue Ying: “Oh!”
She understood! She understood!
The story had reached its most thrilling reveal—the Demon Lord, having accidentally consumed a love potion, pinned the little fox who had been caring for him beneath him… The little fox transformed into a woman’s form, forced by the Demon Lord…
No, she was a forward-thinking novelist. Others wrote about men and women, lovebirds and songbirds—she preferred to write something more exciting.
That little fox—Yue Ying swiftly added a new twist to her protagonist: the Demon Lord mistakenly believed the fox was male, and had been agonizing over it, thinking he had a taste for men.
Whether the little fox was male or female would be revealed in the climactic chapters.
.
A mountain hawk circled the brilliant blue sky. From the distant hunting grounds came the sound of horns.
The ladies looked up at the sky, where the trail of an arrow streaked across the heavens.
The arrow hummed, like a death-dealing specter, chasing after the hawk.
Unable to bear the sight of animals being hunted and killed, Yun Yi turned her head away: “Mountain God, please protect that eagle—may it escape safely.”
A dull thud sounded—the hawk dropped straight down, crashing into the woods not far away.
Yun Yi let out a sigh of lament.
From the forest came the sound of hoofbeats, startling birds and beasts into flight. Many mountain birds took to the air in panic.
A large chestnut-red horse burst out of the dense woods.
“Whoa—” The tall man on horseback reined in his steed.
The guards of the officials’ ladies moved in, forming a human wall.
The man raised his arrow high—its tip had pierced the hawk’s head, blood dripping down the shaft and into the clear stream water.
The chestnut horse, apparently thirsty, stepped forward a few paces and stopped by the stream to drink.
The princess’s guards were no pushovers. They immediately shouted: “How dare you, reckless brute—you have disturbed the princess’s royal procession!”
Yun Yi got a clear look at the man on horseback. Those unmistakable thick whiskers—who else but Helian Tu could sport such a dramatic beard?
“I, Helian Tu, pay my respects to the princess.” Helian tossed aside the mountain hawk, dismounted, and bowed before the princess.
“The young Khan of the Northern Di?” Xiao Qingzhu naturally knew of him—the marriage alliance proposal had long since reached her ears. Suppressing her discomfort, she refused to yield in presence: “This is already outside the hunting grounds. The young Khan has strayed in the wrong direction.”
Helian Tu’s face was full of shame: “I was so intent on chasing the hawk that I mistakenly left the hunting grounds. A grave offense indeed—I beg the princess to punish me.”
Considering the tense relations between the Northern Di and Yan, the princess did not wish to be overly harsh with him.
“Never mind. Be more careful next time.” Xiao Qingzhu noticed that the attendants behind Helian Tu were all her brother’s men, so she said, “Escort the young Khan back into the hunting grounds.”
Helian Tu gave thanks and rose. His eager gaze passed through the crowd and settled on the princess.
In an instant, his expression shifted slightly.
Xiao Qingzhu: “?” This barbarian from the Northern Di had no manners at all—it wasn’t as if she had a boil on her face.
“Princess…?” Helian Tu drew out the words, as if confirming something.
“Does the young Khan have any other business?”
“I take my leave.”
Helian Tu took hold of the reins, and his attendants placed the dead hawk into a hunting bag. After taking a few steps, he looked back once more.
He heard the princess say: “Little Chair, let’s move somewhere else? That stream is full of blood—it makes me uneasy.”
A young eunuch stepped to her side, handing over a cup of fruit drink: “The princess is feeling faint from the blood—have some tangerine-peel and hawthorn juice.”
That young eunuch was none other than the one who had jumped into the river to save the Hu girl that day.
She wasn’t wearing women’s clothing—she had changed into eunuch’s robes.
Helian Tu would never mistake her.
The “Princess of Great Yan” he had painted all night long now stood across the stream, visible yet unreachable.
The woman he had so earnestly begged Emperor Yanwen to marry had turned out to be a eunuch.
A castrated man.
Helian Tu found it utterly absurd, and immediately clenched his fists.
He felt as though he had been made a fool of.
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