Chapter 45: Eating Meat Part 2

He didn’t venture deeper but turned back, securing the deer to his horse. Lifting his gaze, he spotted Xun Changqing resting in the distant pavilion. Zhao Yang’s father was merely the Junior Minister of the Court of State Ceremonial, yet she treated him kindly—unlike others who spat “bastard” at him.

With Shao Tang in the Heavenly Prison and his father and stepmother too busy to mind him, he finally had time for the hunt.

After tying the deer, he headed to the pavilion.

Xun Changqing spotted him from afar and tugged her lips into a smile. Her icy gaze softened slightly. As he entered, she spoke first. “Young Master Shao, any luck?”

Unlike before, now that she knew his name, she greeted him. A smile played on his lips as he pointed to the deer on his horse below. He raised his brows and laughed. “Just one deer. With so many people, the animals hide. I had to go deep into the dense woods for it.”

Xun Changqing eyed the distant antlers, her brows arching with a smile. She drawled leisurely, “Indeed, too many people make it hard. Next time, pick another day. This place can’t compare to Mang Mountain—it’s just rabbits here. Rarity makes the heart grow fonder; in these mountains, even that seems precious.”

Zhao Yang chimed in from the side. “Exactly. I felt the same earlier. Game’s scarce here, so whatever you get feels valuable. Everyone prizes it. But on Lingyun Mountain? No one among us disciples would glance twice.”

What made something precious wasn’t its true worth, but its scarcity in a place where all clamored for it, hyping it up until those without sighed in envy.

The sun dipped toward the west, casting evening glows. Xun Changqing stretched her legs, stood, and regarded the still-silent Shao Lanheng with a bright smile. “Young Master Shao, it’s getting late. I’ll head back first.”

Shao Lanheng belatedly stepped aside, bowing deeply. “Princess, take care.”

Life had its epiphanies in unexpected moments. Xun Changqing’s casual remark enlightened him. His father overlooked him because he had many sons; his bastard status doomed him to disdain.

But if there were fewer “things,” would he stand out?

If he were the only son left, would his father pin all hopes on him?

…

Back at the mansion, Xun Changqing bathed, changed clothes, and roughly dried her damp hair before dashing to the western wing.

No snow fell in the courtyard. The wide yard showed no desolation; maids clustered in a corner, chatting merrily, their voices pure and lively with household gossip—far from the capital’s filthy intrigues. It was a scene that made one forget the world.

This was all she sought: strolling the yard, admiring snow in leisure, free from court politics and treacherous hearts. Moonlight gleamed; under the vast sky, humanity endured—not like now, full of schemes to roil the Imperial Capital.

Yuyin’s footsteps shattered the idyll. The maids scattered, fearing the steward’s wrath for slacking. He approached, brows furrowed over wide eyes—an amusing sight. Xun Changqing bit back a smile; mocking the steward ill-befitted her, old as he was.

The steward glanced at the fleeing maids and said lowly, “Princess, someone just delivered a deer. I checked—freshly hunted today. No idea from whom. How should we handle it?”

The deliverer had come and gone without a name. Fine venison, but unsure, the steward guessed it was for Xun Changqing and asked.

Unaware of the day’s events, Yuyin found her pondering. “Is it poisoned?”

He shook his head. “Checked. No poison.”

“Good. Have the kitchen clean it. Tonight, Master and I will have roast venison. Distribute the rest; no need to keep any.”

With that, she bolted to the western wing. Yuyin shook his head—his guess spot-on. Likely a friend she’d met out hunting, sending his kill to the mansion.

As he turned, she called him back. “Has Xun Luo returned?”

The side consort’s daughters: Xun Xi, the elder, had gone with her husband to his post, per the Princess Consort’s orders. Xun Luo differed—her mother dead two years prior, her husband’s family in the capital, but she rarely visited, ties loose.

“No, Second Miss seldom returns. If you wish to see her, I can arrange it.”

“No need, Uncle Yu. Remember: without my orders, she’s not to enter the mansion.”

White-eyed wolves shouldn’t get close. With the order given, Xun Changqing entered Wei Lingci’s room, knocked, and heard Xian Yu respond before pushing the door open.

Since returning, Wei Lingci’s wound had worsened subtly. The physician had warned against cold winds until healed. Xun Changqing knew the risks and hadn’t let her go out.

A thick medicinal scent made her hesitate at the door. Beyond the beaded curtain, Xian Yu’s silhouette moved. She advanced a few steps, sensed something off, poured tea at the table, drank, then peeked curiously past the curtain—feeling oddly guilty.

But she’d knocked, and Xian Yu answered; it was aboveboard.

She stepped inside, brow furrowing slightly. Xian Yu stood by the bed. Hearing footsteps, Wei Lingci called out habitually before she neared, “Little County Princess, you knocked—why not come in?”

Eyes flickering, Xun Changqing gripped the curtain, tilting her head innocently. “Changing dressings?”

Asking the obvious!

She took a step forward. Wei Lingci sat up, eyes shimmering as she shot her a glance, then draped on her inner robe. Slender fingers trailed her waist. Lowering her head revealed white bandages on her shoulder, dark tresses like black satin half-veiling her smooth skin. Half-hidden, it tempted the eye.

In the haze, Xun Changqing reached impulsively for her collar, but Wei Lingci looked up, and she chickened out, withdrawing. Under that searing gaze, her heart stirred. She blurted, “Roast venison tonight!”