Chapter 45: Eating Meat Part 1

The cold wind howled, nearly drowning out Xun Changqing’s leisurely and measured voice. Zhao Yang, right in the midst of it, heard her clearly. To prevent her from mistaking the man for someone else, he reminded her, “You’re wrong. This is the Shao family’s eldest son, Shao Lanheng, a lecturer at the Imperial Academy.”

Xun Changqing looked puzzled, her cherry-pink lips pursing as she grumbled, “Shao family’s eldest young master? I’ve never heard of him. Still, Senior Brother, we should head into the mountain first.”

Shao Lanheng turned to gaze at Xun Changqing, his eyes brimming with amusement. “Might I have the honor of knowing the young master’s name?”

He had lost so much face, yet he could still converse with a smile—truly, the young masters from great families were no simple folk, especially a talented illegitimate son. Xun Changqing toyed with her horsewhip and said, “I’ve only been back in the capital for a few days and came here just to have some fun. Why must I give my name?”

Back only a few days, riding a splendid steed clad in fine silks, with several guards trailing behind— even if Shao Lanheng were a fool, he could guess her identity. He quickly stepped aside to clear a path. His father disliked anyone from the Pingnan Prince’s Mansion, so he wouldn’t break his father’s rules and risk displeasing him.

If Shao Tang had been half as clever, he wouldn’t be rotting in the Heavenly Prison. Xun Changqing glanced at Shao Lanheng. His modest, deferential demeanor was just a facade. But Shao Cheng had always drawn a clear line between legitimate and illegitimate sons. Though Shao Lanheng was older than the legitimate one, he likely didn’t have their father’s favor either. Otherwise, why was he still just a lowly lecturer at the Imperial Academy, an unremarkable literary official?

The group rode up the mountain for a stretch before she suddenly reined in her horse and beckoned Zi Jin forward. After receiving her instructions, the maid turned and left. Zhao Yang had no idea what she was up to and could only stay silent.

As he glanced around, his eyes caught another striking steed, very much like the pair he’d gifted to Xun Changqing. He urged his horse closer to inspect it, but Xun Changqing blocked him. “Senior Brother, don’t you think the two horses you bought are rather odd? Such fine steeds shouldn’t be sold by merchants. Even one would be rare, but we just saw another. Doesn’t that strike you as strange?”

Zhao Yang hadn’t thought much of it when he bought them, but her question made him suspicious. “I purchased them in a town near the Imperial Capital—rural places, nothing amiss. But so many appearing now can only mean someone’s selling them.”

The mountain wind continued to rage past their ears, mingled with faint voices and the thud of hooves. No one paid Xun Changqing or Zhao Yang any mind. She had only recently arrived in the capital and wasn’t known, while Zhao Yang didn’t have many friends there, so no one approached them.

Once the horse had passed out of sight, Xun Changqing lowered her voice. “Senior Brother, most horses in Great Qi are requisitioned for war. Few common folk own them for travel—even in the Imperial Capital, they’re just ordinary mounts. But the ones you bought are top-quality, able to cover a thousand li a day. How could rural areas have so many? We’ve seen three already; there might be more.”

Zhao Yang scanned left and right, hoping for a fourth, but saw none after a long look. “Should we investigate?”

“You should ask your father. He’s in the Honglu Temple; he should handle these matters.”

Zhao Yang agreed softly. “I’ll tell him when I get back.”

The little interlude didn’t dampen their spirits. Game was scarce in the mountains anyway, and with so many noble sons around, forget deer—not even a wild rabbit showed itself. Still, the snowy mountain scenery was lovely, so Xun Changqing dismounted and sat in a pavilion midway up a gentle slope.

The pavilion required a short walk from the horses, so she and Zhao Yang claimed it first to rest. The others had to find spots elsewhere.

Shao Lanheng had chatted with Xun Changqing and thus entered the mountain half an hour late, trailing the group. Like her, he had nothing to show for it yet and grew anxious. Skilled in both letters and arms, returning empty-handed would surely draw mockery from the others.

He dismounted and headed to a secluded spot. Deep in the snowy woods, his steps crunched loudly. A deer bolted past him; he nocked an arrow and shot. Winter animals, foraging weakly, couldn’t evade. It took two steps and fell.

Worth the trip after all. Surprises lurked in the deep woods, while those timid bookworms stuck to crowded areas, competing for scraps and finding nothing. He seized the antlers and turned, only to spot two young men.

Their eyes fixed on his hand. It was his prize; he wouldn’t yield it. With a faint smile, he walked out.

The purple-clad youth fumed indignantly. “We chased that deer for half a shichen to drive it here, and he just swoops in and steals it. Hardly the act of a gentleman.”

The other consoled him, pulling him deeper. “What’s there to be mad about? He’s just an illegitimate son—the Right Chancellor doesn’t even favor him. That mediocrity Shao Tang got himself placed in the Six Ministries through schemes, while this bastard’s still a mere sixth-rank literary official. You’re the legitimate son of a marquis’s household; why bother? Let’s check ahead.”

As they bickered and trudged deeper, Shao Lanheng gripped the antlers tighter, his eyes cold, fury boiling in his chest. So what if he was illegitimate? His talents far outshone the pleasure-seeking Shao Tang, yet his father suppressed him time and again for the legitimate son’s sake, keeping him from holding his head high. Everyone saw him only as “the bastard.”