Among the dense shadows of trees, a flash of light brown darted past.
The Emperor spurred his horse and gave chase.
It was a elk.
Many others had also spotted the prey and joined the pursuit.
Hoofbeats thundered, tree shadows flew backward, and heavy, labored breaths intertwined—the contest had officially begun.
On the day of the spring hunt, whoever bagged the largest animal in the grounds would not only receive a monetary reward but also a golden amulet of immunity from the Emperor himself.
Every civil official and military general present pulled out all the stops.
That amulet of immunity was the treasure everyone truly coveted.
Sunlight filtered through the dense forest, casting dappled halos on the black horse’s mane as its hooves left a trail of prints.
Suddenly, a large chestnut-red horse charged up from behind, arrogantly trampling over the hoofprints ahead.
This man was different from the people of Yan—his build was stocky, his muscles bulging, with a thick beard stretching from his lips to his temples—clearly a man from beyond the passes.
Young Master Cui, son of General Cui, recognized him. His father, Cui Min, had spent years guarding the border and had fought the Northern Di many times, even clashing head-on with Helian Tu.
Helian Tu had trained in martial arts and swordsmanship since childhood, making a name for himself among the Helian clan.
The Khan had sought out famous painters and calligraphers from Yan to be his teachers. By the time he came of age, Helian Tu was already accomplished in both civil and military arts, his fame spreading across the Northern Di.
Young Master Cui, intent on protecting the Emperor, drove his white horse forward at full speed.
The commotion startled the elk, which kicked its legs and leaped into the underbrush.
The black and red horses charged forward simultaneously, leaping together—their powerful horse bellies brushing past the shrubs, shearing off scattered green leaves.
Helian Tu’s posture was bold and triumphant: “Your Majesty, do you have your heart set on this elk?”
As he spoke, a charred, broken log suddenly blocked their path ahead.
Xiao Zhi reined in his horse. The black steed obeyed, leaping even higher—like a black bolt of lightning, wheeling through the green forest, swift as a shooting star.
The elk seemed to sense something and fled in panic.
Helian Tu, a step ahead of Xiao Zhi, impatiently drew his bow: “Your Majesty, allow me to help you. Once I shoot this elk, the deer is yours, and the golden amulet is mine.”
Xiao Zhi gave him a indifferent glance. “The young Khan may proceed.”
With that, he took an arrow and bent his bow.
The sovereign and his subject aimed at the same target simultaneously.
Helian Tu loosed his arrow first.
Twang—!
Two arrow trails sliced through the damp air.
The poor elk turned its head—
One arrow pierced toward its antlers, but was caught up by the one behind it.
Crack!
Helian Tu’s arrow was snapped in two by the Emperor’s. Startled, the elk fled in panic.
His surefire prey had been let go by the Emperor—even Helian Tu, hardened on the battlefield, could barely suppress his frustration.
The Son of Heaven had done it on purpose!
That arrow, after breaking Helian Tu’s, did not stop—it drove straight into a small thicket.
The bushes rustled, as if an animal was struggling inside.
“Cui Xiao,” Xiao Zhi called out to the young master who had come to protect him, “go fetch that rabbit for me—don’t harm it.”
Cui Xiao: “As you command.”
Only then did Helian Tu see clearly—the Emperor’s arrow had pinned a small gray rabbit. It was barely full-grown, frozen stiff in terror at the sudden strike.
Xiao Zhi took the rabbit, rubbed its head, and flicked its long ears with his fingertip: “Playing dead, are you? Round little head—I like the look of you. I’ll spare you.”
The shock in Helian Tu’s eyes lingered long after.
“The young Khan’s golden amulet is no more,” Xiao Zhi said with regret. “But then again, I didn’t hit the elk either. We’re tied.”
Tied.
Were they really?!
The Emperor had not only broken his arrow and stopped him from hunting the elk—denying him the amulet of immunity—but had also casually caught a frail little rabbit spirit?!
The forest wind whistled. Helian Tu trembled with cold fury—he didn’t want to spend another moment in this godforsaken place.
.
At the spring hunt twenty years ago, when the late Emperor still reigned and the border was peaceful, General Cui had hunted a bear, stunning the entire court from top to bottom.
General Cui had single-handedly raised the bar for the spring hunt. Many military officers looked down upon prey like mountain hawks and elk as beneath their notice.
At the first spring hunt after Xiao Zhi ascended the throne, only Helian Tu managed to shoot a mountain hawk. Below that were merely some pheasants, forest birds, and ordinary game.
Some officials found it dull and couldn’t resist dredging up old tales: “General Cui was truly valiant—if he weren’t stationed at the border, this spring hunt’s grand prize would have been his for the taking.”
At those words, eyes naturally turned to General Cui’s young son.
Cui Xiao sat with a frame much like his father’s, planted firmly in his seat like a great general, grinning at a rabbit in a cage.
Clearly, that was his catch from the hunt.
Fan Xun saw how fondly Cui Xiao treated the rabbit and shook his head repeatedly: “Trinkets dull the will!”
Cui Xiao paid him no mind. He lifted the cage and knelt: “Greetings to Your Majesty!”
“Rise.” Xiao Zhi had changed out of his hunting clothes and showed little interest in the second half of the hunt.
“Where is my Little Round?”
Cui Xiao quickly handed over the cage.
The Emperor’s eyes, usually sharp with harshness, softened at the edges, revealing a rare warmth.
Fan Xun stared in shock: the rabbit even had a name—Little Round.
Seeing Fan Xun’s eyes wide as bells, Xiao Zhi added: “This is what I caught at the spring hunt. Minister Fan, why so silent? Do you find my rabbit too small?”
“I would never dare! This rabbit’s fur is like distant mountain mist—the most elegant shade in the twilight glow…”
“Minister Fan is a military man—I never expected such literary flair. I have truly underutilized your talents.”
“Your Majesty flatters me, flatters me…”
Helian Tu had been carrying the mountain hawk by its wings, intending to offer it to the Emperor as a gift.
Looking at the red silk flower tied around the hawk’s neck feathers, he suddenly found the whole thing garish. Who would have thought that the Son of Heaven of Great Yan would prefer rabbits?
Xiao Zhi returned to the retreat palace.
The princess was suffering from blood phobia—Imperial Physician Zhou had prescribed her several herbs, and she had rested after taking them.
The Emperor’s gaze swept over the assembly of eunuchs but didn’t find the one he was looking for.
“Where is Little Chair?”
“Your Majesty,” Little Bat said, “Little Chair came back from the hunting grounds, complained of being tired, and went to the attendants’ quarters to rest.”
“The attendants’ quarters?” The Emperor thought he had misheard.
The attendants’ quarters were the rooms where the palace eunuchs rested.
Little Bat didn’t see anything wrong with that, but when the Emperor’s expression soured, he dropped to his knees with a smack.
A whole crowd of eunuchs stood in a dark mass at the door.
Little Bat’s legs trembling, he weakly knocked on the wooden door.
“Little Chair… His—His Majesty is here…”
Silence from within.
After a long wait, Little Bat knocked again—still no answer.
Xiao Zhi pushed the door open himself.
The room faced west and was dim inside, with a faint sandalwood scent lingering.
Several beds were arranged in the room for lower-ranking eunuchs to rest.
He had expected Yun Yi to be delicate and particular, but there she lay on a hard wooden bed, one arm thrown across her eyes, sleeping soundly.
Xiao Zhi walked to the bedside and moved her arm aside: “I told you to play a eunuch, not to sleep in the eunuchs’ quarters.”
She still didn’t move—but the faint, almost imperceptible smile at the corner of her mouth caught the Emperor’s eye. Hah, full of mischief—she was definitely pretending to be asleep.
Xiao Zhi pressed two fingers to her pulse.
Her pulse raced, pounding like a drum.
“You’re awake,” Xiao Zhi said with certainty.
His next words: “I caught a rabbit. How about roast rabbit for dinner?”
Yun Yi shot up—her forehead slamming straight into the Emperor’s chin.
“Where’s the rabbit?! Who said you could kill it!”
Xiao Zhi’s eyes reddened at the corners from the pain, but when they met her accusatory face—a face so serious—a relaxed smile bloomed across his own, which had been stern all day.
“Good—I’ll use its fur to make you gloves.”
“Try it!”
Yun Yi shoved past him and scrambled off the eunuch’s bed.
Little Bat happened to catch this scene through the crack in the door.
His Majesty’s towering frame—so much stronger and sturdier than that frail little eunuch’s—had actually been knocked off balance?
“Why are you sleeping in the eunuchs’ quarters?” Xiao Zhi glanced at her sideways.
Yun Yi followed behind the Emperor like a little tail: “It’s called experiencing things.”
Wang Delan glared at Little Bat, who promptly withdrew his probing gaze.
“In our era, there’s a profession called ‘bed tester.’ You go sleep in various hotels, write reviews—rate whether the beds are comfortable, how the food is…”
“Hotels?”
“That’s what you call inns here.”
“I see.” Xiao Zhi asked again, “And what does that have to do with the eunuchs’ quarters?”
“I’m just test-sleeping the eunuch room.” Yun Yi grew more animated as she spoke. “There are themed hotels, you know. Like in Xi’an, there’s a terracotta-warrior themed hotel. Disney hotels have rooms with Disney cartoon characters. Ah, you haven’t seen any animated films yet, have you? Zootopia—next time I’ll take you to the cinema to watch the third one.”
“I’ve seen a few,” Xiao Zhi said lightly. “The one with two bears.”
“Oh,” Yun Yi circled back to hotels, “and there are couple’s hotels too…”
The Emperor’s tall silhouette seemed to wither in the spring light. Yun Yi clamped her mouth shut, remembering that his harem was completely empty.
“Couple’s hotels?”
“That’s something you can’t stay in for now.”
“Why?”
Yun Yi fell silent.
Xiao Zhi gritted his teeth in frustration. No matter how he threatened or cajoled, this girl wouldn’t utter a single word.
“Hmph—don’t you want the rabbit anymore?”
“Didn’t you already kill it?”
“Wang Delan.”
At his command, Wang Delan stepped forward cheerfully, cradling a brilliant golden cage in his arms.
Inside the cage was a dusty little ball of fluff, trembling nervously—like a country bumpkin who had stumbled into a seven-star hotel.
Yun Yi lifted the little rabbit out and soothed it, stroking the fuzz on its head.
“The princess told me the top prize for the spring hunt is ten thousand taels of gold and a golden amulet of immunity. This is what you caught?”
Xiao Zhi’s gaze dropped slightly. The little creature met his eyes for a moment, then quickly burrowed deeper into her arms, its long ears flattening against her chest, shrinking even further.
“Why are you scaring it?” Yun Yi glared at him on behalf of the rabbit.
“…” How had he scared it? Was being born fierce a crime?
The rabbit was long-haired, having spent its days in the wild, constantly fleeing from mountain hawks and pythons—a hard life for a rabbit.
Yun Yi said with sympathy: “Its fur is all matted—poor thing.”
Xiao Zhi looked at Wang Delan.
Wang Delan: “Your Majesty…?” Is that what I think it means?
“Go get it.”
Wang Delan brought out a tray covered with brocade silk, in the center of which lay an exquisite jade comb.
The jade was smooth and lustrous, carved with a pattern of coiled dragons amid clouds and seas—meticulously crafted by the artisans of the Imperial Household Department.
This comb was used to tend the Emperor’s own topknot, to comb through his flowing black hair—a symbol of enduring fortune.
“Generous of you.” Yun Yi took the comb. Its back still retained a trace of warmth. She ran it through the rabbit’s fur a few times. “Very smooth—works better than my Kelu’s steel comb.”
“Who is Kelu?” Xiao Zhi furrowed his brow, the corners of his eyes lowering as he focused on her.
“My golden retriever.” Her tone was as buoyant as an out-of-control little cart, crashing full-speed into Xiao Zhi’s ears—
“A dog. A golden-haired dog.”
This breed naturally didn’t exist in ancient times.
But everyone present understood what she meant.
Wang Delan’s hand trembled—the tray nearly fell to the ground.
The Son of Heaven, compared to a mere dog.
Little Bat, attending nearby, felt his ears ringing, terrified that the Emperor’s wrath would leave Little Chair with no place to rest in peace.
Though they hadn’t known each other long, Little Chair had been very kind to the servants—Little Bat had eaten quite a few of her dried fruit snacks.
Sure enough, the Emperor’s face darkened: “This comb is for my use.”
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