Chapter 82.

The tiger cub in his arms was barely a foot long, its soft yellow-and-black-striped fur still unchanging, its tiny claws far from sharp. It was chubby, well-fed, but full of fight, squirming and thrashing as Zhao Lin held it in both hands. Its high-pitched mewls were more kitten than predator, sharp and insistent, struggling against his grip.

A cub this young, orphaned and abandoned in a cave, wouldn’t survive the harsh winter without intervention.

Yin Chengyu’s gaze lingered on the creature for a moment before he spoke decisively, his tone cool but commanding: “Bring it along. Once we’re back in the capital, send it to the Tiger Keep.”

The imperial estate had a dedicated reserve for raising and training tigers, and one more cub wasn’t going to upset the balance.

Zhao Lin, eager and exhilarated at the prospect, didn’t hesitate for a second. He cradled the cub to his chest with enthusiasm, practically beaming as he followed the group forward.

*

On the fourth day in the hunting grounds, Yin Chengyu’s party finally stumbled upon the wolf king’s trail.

“The scat’s partially dried—this area’s seen activity in the last two days,” one of the seasoned hunters noted, crouching low. He let the hounds sniff the remains, their sharp noses twitching as they caught the scent. A quick release of their leashes sent the dogs bounding to the right, noses low to the ground.

The riders spurred their horses, galloping in pursuit of the hounds, but they didn’t make it far. Barely a mile down the trail, another party emerged from the trees, cutting across their path.

As the two groups converged, Yin Chengyu’s eyes flickered to the figure at the other party’s head. His brows arched ever so slightly, his expression an artful blend of civility and mild amusement. With a practiced air, he raised a hand in greeting. “Fancy seeing you again, Little Prince.”

Mubai’er’s reaction was less composed. Surprise briefly flickered across his face before it hardened into something colder. He forced a perfunctory nod, his words laden with acidic politeness. “Crown Prince.” Then, with a sneer that couldn’t quite be hidden, he added, “What an unexpected coincidence to cross paths twice in such a vast hunting ground. One wonders if it’s fate or… something more deliberate.”

Yin Chengyu met the veiled insult with an infuriatingly warm smile, his tone a portrait of sincerity. “Ah, sometimes fate works in mysterious ways. What’s meant to be will always find a way, wouldn’t you agree?”

The barb landed cleanly. Mubai’er’s expression tightened, suspicion brewing beneath the surface. Given their prior clash and the almost absurd timing of this encounter, it was far too convenient to be mere chance. His unease deepened—fate, he was certain, had nothing to do with it.

Still, he forced a hollow laugh, masking his unease. “Since fate has brought us together, I won’t keep you from your hunt. The path is yours, Crown Prince.” He gestured for his men to step aside, clearing the way.

Yin Chengyu didn’t hesitate. He led his party forward, his demeanor unshaken, exuding an air of unbothered dominance.

It wasn’t until they had traveled some distance that the faint sound of retreating hooves confirmed Mubai’er's party had veered in another direction.

“Mubai’er found something,” Yin Chengyu mused, his tone laced with intrigue. His sharp eyes lingered on the path ahead before he turned to two of his most trusted companions. “He wouldn’t have stepped aside so easily otherwise. He’s protecting something. Take a few men and shadow him. Stay hidden, but find out what he’s after.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” He Shan and Ying Hongxue immediately gathered their chosen few, slipping into the shadows as they trailed Mubai’er's retreating group.

Yin Chengyu, unruffled, spurred his horse onward, his party continuing to follow the hounds toward the supposed trail of the wolf king.

In the shadows of the distant forest, a dark figure moved swiftly, darting between the trees before pausing at a concealed cave. The figure picked up a small stone, rapping it rhythmically against the wall in a coded signal. Moments later, figures emerged from within the cave—Princess Uju and none other than Yin Chengjing.

“What’s the status?” Yin Chengjing’s voice was low, laced with quiet authority.

“Everything is unfolding as predicted. The Little Prince crossed paths with the Crown Prince at the fork. He’s clearly desperate to follow the wolf king’s trail, but the Crown Prince caught onto something. He’s sent men to follow them.”

Yin Chengjing’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. “Perfect. Let them. Stick to the plan and keep watching.”

Uju Princess, previously skeptical of this scheme, now found herself reluctantly impressed. “You’ve diverted one of the Crown Prince’s key players. What’s your plan for the next?”

The so-called wolf king’s trail was nothing more than an elaborate fabrication.

The actual wolf king had been captured days ago, the scent markers and clues meticulously planted to lead Yin Chengyu into a trap. With Zhao Lin distracted and He Shan gone, Yin Chengjing’s final move was in play.

“One down,” he murmured, his voice calm yet charged with intention. “Now, for the next.”

“No need to rush. The second hook is already set—just lying in wait for them up ahead.” With his hands clasped behind his back, Yin Chengjing calculated the timing and distance in silence.

By now, they should be taking the bait.

*

The hounds dashed on for five or six miles before coming to a halt, noses pressed to the ground, sniffing intently beneath a towering tree. After a moment of hesitation, one started pawing at the soil, claws scraping against the earth with an urgency that hinted at something buried just beneath the surface.

The hunter rushed forward, sweeping aside dead leaves and tangled weeds. Beneath the debris, he uncovered a ring of melted snow surrounding the tree roots, the faintest trace of a musky, primal scent lingering in the frigid air.

“Wolf piss,” he declared, his voice brimming with excitement as his gaze darted around the area. “The smell’s still fresh—it hasn’t dissipated yet. The wolf must’ve been here not long ago.”

It was likely the alpha wolf had roamed this very spot not too long before their arrival, perhaps even mere moments ago.

“Can we figure out which way it went?” Yin Chengyu demanded, dismounting his horse with a sense of urgency and gesturing for his men to scour the area for signs.

The hunter led his two dogs in circles around the clearing, the animals sniffing furiously to pinpoint a direction. Yet after a while, the hunter looked back, frustration etched across his face. “The dogs can’t distinguish it. This entire area reeks of the alpha—it’s muddled and hard to track.”

Yin Chengyu’s gaze swept across the scene as he prepared to order his men to broaden the search radius. But then his eyes caught on something—a disarray of tracks etched faintly into the ground.

Those tracks...

He frowned, his sharp eyes narrowing in concentration. Slowly, he bent down to study the chaotic footprints, then turned his focus to the freshly dug-up tree roots. Without a word, he moved with determined strides, inspecting every direction the tracks seemed to lead.

Moments later, his face betrayed none of his thoughts as he turned to Xue Shu. “Take a team and search for the alpha’s trail.”

Xue Shu hesitated for only a second before meeting Yin Chengyu’s gaze. Something unspoken passed between them, and he nodded with understanding. “Yes, Your Highness.” He rallied a dozen men and mounted up, riding off into the encroaching dusk.

Once they were gone, Yin Chengyu glanced at the darkening sky. “Looks like snow’s coming again, and it’s already late. Find a spot to set up camp. We’ll wait here for He Shan and Xue Shu to return.”

The remaining troops, led by Zhao Lin, moved to scout for a suitable campsite. Winter’s grip meant darkness fell early, and by the time the camp was set up, night had fully descended.

The camp stood about a mile from where the wolf’s scent had been detected. Outside, soldiers prepared dinner while Yin Chengyu lounged in his tent, tossing another log into the brazier to stave off the chill. He waited, his patience wearing thin as the minutes dragged on.

Inside the tent, a tiger cub they’d picked up along the way was prowling around his feet, playful and mischievous. It had grown used to Yin Chengyu’s scent over the past couple of days, and now, with no one else to keep it in check, it swiped curiously at the embers popping from the fire.

More than once, the cub nearly tumbled into the flames, singeing its fur in its reckless antics. Yin Chengyu grabbed it by the scruff of its neck and set it farther from the fire. But the cub, misunderstanding his intent, wagged its tail and pounced back at his hand, biting down with its soft, toothless jaws.

It didn’t hurt, but Yin Chengyu clicked his tongue in annoyance, shoving the cub away and wiping his hand clean with a cloth. His mind wandered briefly to someone else—someone who also had a penchant for biting his fingers.

He poked at the fire with a dry stick, casting a glance toward the tent’s entrance. The night was pitch black now. Xue Shu should be back by now, he thought.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, a rustling noise came from the side of the tent. His gaze snapped to the source as Xue Shu slipped in through a small gap, carefully retying the ropes before turning to face him.

“Did anyone see you?” Yin Chengyu asked.

“It’s dark outside, and I circled through the shadows. No one spotted me,” Xue Shu replied, taking a seat across from him, awaiting orders.

Earlier, when Yin Chengyu had sent him to search for the alpha wolf, his subtle signal hadn’t gone unnoticed. Xue Shu had understood the unspoken command. Instead of leading his team on a genuine search, he’d doubled back in secret, ensuring he wasn’t followed, to meet with Yin Chengyu privately.

“Did you notice something, Your Highness?” Xue Xu asked.

“That wolf piss... something’s off about it,” Yin Chengyu said, his voice low but sharp.

Xue Shu’s brows furrowed as he thought back. “There were no paw prints nearby?”

The realization clicked into place. Everyone had been so fixated on the fresh scent that they’d overlooked the lack of tracks. If the urine had been fresh, there should’ve been clear prints in the snow and mud. But apart from their own footprints and the tracks of their horses, the area was devoid of wolf prints. It didn’t add up.

Yin Chengyu nodded, his expression grim. “And since entering this area, we’ve yet to cross paths with Princess Uju or Yin Chengjing.”

This hunting ground may be vast, but it’s not endless. With so many teams prowling its depths for four days straight, it’s inevitable to run into a familiar face now and then. They’ve crossed paths with plenty of squads led by other noble brats and military heirs.

But Princess Uju and Yin Chengjing? Nowhere to be seen—not even once.

Vanished? Hardly.

In a place like this, disappearing isn’t an option. No, the truth is sharper—they’re avoiding him. Deliberately. And that, oh, that makes the mind buzz with questions.

“Yin Chengjing’s made a pact with the Tatars?” Xue Shu asked, his tone low but biting.

“Highly likely.” Yin Chengyu mused, absentmindedly stroking the fuzzy tail of a tiger cub as if testing out dangerous thoughts. “If I were them, I wouldn’t waste a golden chance like this.”

“But making a move here in the hunting grounds—it’s too obvious, too easy to leave traces,” Xue Shu countered.

“They don’t need to get their hands dirty.” Yin Chengyu smirked, gesturing at the cub chasing its own tail in circles. “Sometimes, a beast is deadlier than any blade.”

Xue Shu’s sharp mind caught on instantly. “Tigers—solitary predators, not much of a threat on their own. But the hunting grounds have rumors of roaming steppe wolves.”

Wolves. Ferocious, pack hunters.

And in this brutal winter, starvation would make them savage, relentless. Run into a hungry pack, unprepared, and survival isn’t even a question—it’s a fantasy.

“If I’m right,” Yin Chengyu murmured, his voice turning razor-edged, “they’ll make their move tonight.”

There’s no better moment. With just one day left of the hunt, it’s now or never.

Xue Shu’s eyes darkened, a dangerous edge gleaming in them. “I’ll guard the camp myself tonight.”

But Yin Chengyu shook his head, already a step ahead. “No. You’ll track down He Shan and Ying Hongxue. When you find them, stay hidden, hold your position. I’ll leave the camp’s defense to Zhao Lin.”

Xue Shu’s scowl deepened.

Leaving now?

When the storm’s brewing?

He hated the thought of it, his displeasure scrawled across his face. But before he could argue, Yin Chengyu hit him with a cold, sharp question: “You don’t trust me?”

“Of course I do.” Xue Shu spat the words, reluctant but resolute, each syllable a reluctant surrender.

Yin Chengyu’s lips curved into a sharp smile, one that made promises and threats all at once. Leaning in, his fingers brushed the back of Xue Shu’s neck—a gesture unnervingly similar to how he’d just soothed that damn tiger cub. “Then do as I say.”

The decision was final. No room for negotiation. So Xue Shu had no choice but to obey.

But as he rose to leave, his gaze snagged on the tiger cub still circling at Yin Chengyu’s feet, trying to scramble onto his lap. Irritated, Xue Shu grabbed it by the scruff and lifted it, scowling. “This thing’s a nuisance. I’ll take it back to Zhao Lin.”

———Author’s Note: Big Dog: His Highness is mine. Little Tiger: Meow?