Chapter 78.

The Oirat envoys could barely contain his impatience, rising to their feet and heading toward the front of the viewing platform, eager to watch.

Aharu, watching their restlessness, sneered while holding his wineglass: "You're not the only skilled hunters of deer. Princess Uju is also quite the huntress on the plains."

The tension between the Oirat and the Tatars was thick after the spring war, and with their relationship hanging by a thread, they were forced to maintain a fragile facade of peace on the territory of the Great Yan.

But just because they couldn't strike physically didn't mean they couldn't strike with their words.

Hearing the taunt in Aharu’s voice, the Oirat envoy quickly shot back, his face dripping with scorn: "We've heard of Princess Uju’s 'famous' skills. But I'd wager her talent for hunting men far surpasses her prowess with deer."

He made sure to emphasize the word "famous."

The rivalry between Oirat and Tatar had been long-standing, and each side knew the other’s dirty laundry all too well. The so-called "pearl of the plains" was no gem in the eyes of those who truly knew her—she was more like a "black pearl" in the wilds.

As the two envoys exchanged sharp barbs, the officials of the Great Yan maintained a silent but charged atmosphere, eagerly straining to hear each insult and exchanging excited glances. No one had expected this to be interrupted by the Great Yan.

The Tatars and Oirat were both mounted tribes, born on horseback, and skilled with the bow from birth. But in recent years, the Great Yan had placed more emphasis on culture than military prowess, often falling short.

It wasn’t the first time they had lost the winter hunt, and as long as it wasn’t a humiliating defeat, it wouldn’t matter much.

The verbal sparring between the envoys continued as fast-moving horses approached from the distance.

Emperor Longfeng grew tired of watching, his interest waning as the dispute between the Oirats and Tatars made it clear that the approaching riders weren’t from the Great Yan. With a bored sigh, he leaned back in his seat.

His distant gaze returned to the young general, who had seized the long-range telescope.

The general, staring intently, suddenly gasped and shouted with excitement, "It’s the Crown Prince’s entourage!"

His exclamation landed like a stone thrown into a lake, instantly stirring a storm of murmurs and excitement.

The Oirat envoy furrowed his brow in disbelief: "Are you sure?!"

How could it possibly be anyone other than their prince?

Aharu stood, still composed but with a look of shock as he moved to the edge of the platform, scanning the horizon.

By now, the five horses had reached a close enough distance, and it was obvious to all that the riders’ clothing didn’t belong to either the Tatars or the Oirats.

The Great Yan officials, still slightly incredulous, stood and craned their necks to get a better look: "Could it really be the Crown Prince’s men?"

"Just like the Crown Prince!"

Even Emperor Longfeng, who had been slouched in apathy, straightened up, squinting with a mixture of surprise and excitement. "It really is the Crown Prince?!"

His face showed joy, but there was an odd, unplaceable unease beneath it.

The crowd on the platform eagerly awaited as the riders approached. When they finally reached the platform, it was indeed the Crown Prince’s entourage.

Three soldiers dismounted and saluted before unloading their haul.

Outside the ring, a eunuch and his attendants were counting the trophies. Upon recognizing the visitors, he raised his voice higher and sharper, deliberately making the announcement: "The Crown Prince’s party brought in twenty-six deer and fifteen roe!"

The crowd was stunned. The mention of twenty-six deer had them gasping in awe.

The stag is on high alert, fast as hell, and elusive, making it a rare feat to hunt down more than a few. But today, the prince bagged a total of twenty-six, which means he found the herd and surrounded them with precision.

Hunting a herd isn’t just about individual skill—it’s all about strategy and coordination. Without that, even if you find the herd, you won’t bag this many.

Before, it was mostly the scholars praising the prince, but now, watching the deer carcasses being hauled away by the eunuchs, even the soldiers and generals watching the scene are getting hyped up.

The Minister of Personnel, Lu Jing, chuckled and praised the Crown Prince to the Deputy Minister of War standing next to him, saying, “The Crown Prince’s military prowess is truly impressive.”

His eyes shifted to the discontented faces of the Aharu and Oirat envoys, and with a subtle bow, he added, “Who would’ve thought the Crown Prince’s attendants were so capable? You two are lucky to have avoided a quarrel. You can rest now. Perhaps in a moment, the little prince and Princess Uju’s party will arrive.”

His words seemed humble, but the smirk on his face told another story—a sharp, smug satisfaction. His veiled comments stirred up frustration, and Aharu stormed off in a huff.

Other officials, friendly with Lu Jing, shook their heads, their whispers suggesting the Oirat and Tatar envoys were sore losers who couldn’t take a defeat. It wasn’t the first time the Tatars and Oirats had come out on the losing end, and they hadn’t thrown tantrums like this before!

They continued to lavish praise on the Crown Prince for outshining the competition.

Watching the Emperor’s face, Consort Wen followed suit with her praise: “Congratulations, Your Majesty. The Crown Prince is truly a blessing to the empire, with both talent and valor.” Noticing the Emperor’s lack of enthusiasm, she continued, almost obliviously, “If the Crown Prince wins the Winter Hunt, the storytellers in the market will surely have a new tale to spin.”

The Emperor didn’t respond, but the flicker of displeasure in his eyes was unmistakable.

It’s one thing for the Crown Prince to win, but if the Crown Prince’s brilliance starts overshadowing the Emperor’s own, that’s a different matter entirely.

While others were caught up in the joy of beating the Oirat and Tatar forces, no one noticed the Emperor’s discomfort. But Yin Ciguang, sitting nearby, caught every word spoken by Consort Wen.

With a sly smile, he spoke, slow and deliberate, “They say a tiger’s son is never a dog. The Emperor’s grace and dignity are evident in the Crown Prince. Clearly, the Crown Prince won’t fall short of his father.”

This hit the right note, far more pleasing than Consort Wen’s words, and the Emperor’s dark mood finally eased, just a little.

*

After the servants carried the prey away, Yin Chengyu and his group moved deeper into the forest, searching for larger game.

Far off, Princess Uju had been watching them from a distance, waiting until they were out of sight before making her move. She’d heard the sound of the gong and had come looking, only to see Yin Chengyu clashing with Mubai’er. She didn’t make herself known immediately.

Yin Chengjing and she arrived at different times, keeping their distance to avoid attracting too much attention. They waited just far enough for her to come back.

As she approached, Yin Chengjing spurred his horse forward, speaking low and quick: “The Crown Prince bagged the whole deer herd. If the Winter Hunt goes on like this, the competition’s going to be tough. What’s your plan?”

“No rush,” Uju cracked her whip with a smirk, her bright eyes gleaming with calculation. “I’ve already scoped things out. There’s a wolf pack in the hunting grounds.” She paused, her gaze narrowing. “The prairie wolves are ruthless, especially in winter when food’s scarce. They’ll be even more dangerous. I’ve already sent people to track their trail, and once night falls, we’ll lure them into the Crown Prince’s camp...”

She didn’t finish, turning her gaze sharply to Yin Chengjing. “My people are in position. Now, it’s time for the Third Prince to show some real effort. He needs to figure out how to pull the Crown Prince’s guards away.” Her brow furrowed as she thought of the troublesome people involved. “That General He Shan who won his battle, the Prince’s head of guards, Zhao Lin, and that eunuch, Xue Shu...”

"They’re dangerous," Uju muttered, her voice sharp. "If we're going to act, we have to make sure it’s flawless."

Yin Chengjing’s expression turned thoughtful. "He Shan and Zhao Lin are manageable, but Xue Shu’s a loyal dog, sticking to the Crown Prince like glue. If He Shan and Zhao Lin aren't around, it’ll be hard to get him away."

He’d once believed the rumors that Xue Shu had fallen out with the Cŕown Prince, but after the earthquake in Qingzhou, he knew better. Xue Shu had risked his life to protect Yin Chengyu when the two were buried under rubble, proving his unwavering loyalty. He was no fool; the rumors were just another trick from that cunning imperial brother of his.

If you wanted to understand their relationship, forget the gossip—look at their actions, and the truth would come out loud and clear.

Even after Xue Shu was demoted by Emperor Longfeng and sent to serve at Ciqing Palace, rumors swirled about his suffering. They said he was stuck with menial chores, fetching water and washing feet. Yin Chengjing saw it for what it was—a cover-up, a distraction, a way to mask what really went on behind closed doors.

"The wolf pack’s fierce, but Xue Shu alone?" Princess Uju flashed a hungry grin. "He’s nothing to fear. I’ve got eyes on the Prince and Mubai’er."

Once the Prince’s in trouble, Mubai’er’s going to be the prime suspect. Simple as that.

Princess Uju flicked her whip, wrapping it around her arm like she owned it, before tossing a bamboo tube to Yin Chengjing. "Here’s the signal. We’ll hunt. Gotta play the part to perfection."

Yin Chengjing caught it easily, locked eyes with her, confirming their plan, and turned on his heel, heading in the opposite direction.

*

The winter hunt in Danxi would last ten days, but the actual competition was just five. Five days of staying in the hunting grounds, self-sustaining, until the hunt ended. Then, and only then, could they leave.

By afternoon, Yin Chengyu’s group hadn’t encountered any big game, just some common animals. The first day’s hunt was a success. As night fell, Yin Chengyu decided to camp in a sheltered spot and rest, rather than push on.

In addition to the necessary bows and arrows, they also brought some utensils on this trip.

The soldiers went about their tasks—gathering firewood, fetching water, cleaning their catches. By the time the fire was roaring, they had boiling water in the iron pot and skewered meat roasting over the flames, the smell making everyone’s stomach growl.

The five of them—Yin Chengyu, Xue Shu, Ying Hongxue, He Shan, and Zhao Lin—sat around the fire, flipping their meat and drinking wine.

Out in the wild, it wasn’t the same as in the palace. The luxuries were gone, but there was something raw, something real about this moment. Yin Chengyu held his dark ceramic cup, taking slow sips, listening to the conversation around him.

He Shan was a people person, getting along with anyone, and Zhao Lin was straightforward. The two hit it off immediately, downing cup after cup of wine, matching each other drink for drink.

"Drinking without a game gets boring," He Shan suggested, his voice lively. "Why don’t we play a round of dice?"

Before he could finish, Ying Hongxue pinched his arm. He Shan hissed, realizing the Prince was there, his face flushing as he scratched his head awkwardly.

Yin Chengyu chuckled, amused. "You’re right, drinking can get dull. Let’s play. How about the loser drinks three cups?" His eyes slid sideways, locking with Xue Shu’s.

Xue Shu met his gaze without a word, simply refilling his cup.

They began the game. Yin Chengyu had never played finger-guessing games before, but he caught on quickly. After just a few rounds and a few penalty drinks, he mastered the game and never lost again.

Xue Shu's situation was pretty much the same—he grew up in the streets, saw every kind of mess you could imagine. While he might've gotten a little rusty on some things, he never forgot the basics, so when it came to drinking, he didn't need much punishment.

By the end of it, most of the alcohol had gone down the throats of He Shan and Zhao Lin. These two were hooked—they lost, and the more they drank, the less they were willing to quit. Their faces were flushed red, but they kept going, stubborn as hell.

Yin Chengyu watched the two of them drunkenly battling their limits, then glanced at Xue Shu, who hadn’t even touched a drop of alcohol. His brow furrowed tightly.

He’d planned to get Xue Shu drunk, thinking he might get some intel in the process. But Xue Shu, sensing exactly what was going on, gave him a little look. With a smirk, he deliberately lost a few rounds of dice, playing along with the game so Yin Chengyu could have his way.

One bowl after another of strong liquor, and even Xue Shu's face started to show some color, a slight flush as the alcohol took hold.

Yin Chengyu studied him, thinking it was time. With a quiet, confident move, he grabbed the jug himself and poured Xue Shu another drink. The crisp sound of the liquor pouring masked the faint clink of something else in the bottom of the bowl.

Xue Shu noticed it right away—a red jade ring, sitting at the bottom of his glass, floating in the liquid, glistening with the light.

He couldn’t help but remember—just a moment ago, that same red jade ring had been on Yin Chengyu's left hand, its bright, smooth surface glinting as he idly tapped the bowl with his fingers, his hand so delicate it caught Xue Shu's attention more than once.

Turning his head to glance at the source of the trouble, Xue Shu saw Yin Chengyu, resting his chin on his hand, the porcelain bowl gently swirling in his long fingers, his gaze drifting somewhere else, distant, not even looking at him.

The flickering firelight painted one side of his face in a warm glow, leaving the other half hidden in shadows, like some kind of seductive, dangerous creature from the mountain.

Xue Shu’s throat tightened, but his face remained calm. He knocked back the drink, swallowing it in one go, and with it, the cold jade ring slipped down too, the taste lingering on his tongue.

Yin Chengyu, his eyes catching the moment, smiled lightly and asked, "How’s the drink taste?"

Xue Shu didn’t respond immediately, his eyes flicking downward as he raised his glass once more, silently refilling it, offering it back to Yin Chengyu.

Yin Chengyu clinked his glass against his, but as he glanced at Xue Shu’s tight lips, he noticed something. In the blink of an eye, Xue Shu parted them just enough, letting the jade ring slip out, flashing it at him with a sly smile before quickly hiding it again.

Xue Shu gave him a look, eyes narrowed, and took another drink.

All of this, just between the two of them, happened in a flash, unnoticed by the others—He Shan, still drunk, even commented, “This drink tastes great!”

Yin Chengyu nodded, genuinely agreeing.

His eyes followed Xue Shu, watching his throat move with each swallow, and then he smiled, addressing the others. “You all keep going, I’m just going to step out and sober up a bit.”

As his figure disappeared into the night, Xue Shu stood, silent, and followed him, no words spoken.

———Author’s Note: Big Dog: If you’re coming onto me, Your Highness, you’d better believe I’ll give it right back—harder, sharper, and with no holding back.