Chapter 1: The Spring Hunt

Late March marked the revival of the earth and the first blush of peach blossoms across the land.

At the Nanhai Hunting Grounds, under a vast sky dotted with distant clouds, the grass and trees flourished in full vigor. The annual Spring Hunt commenced right on schedule, amid the chirping of swallows and orioles in a scene of pure springtime clarity.

Shi Yuning gazed at the reddish-bronze engraved tray held up before her eyes. Her lashes fluttered lightly, casting thin shadows in the soft morning light that veiled the displeasure in her depths.

“Miss Shi,” the palace servant holding the tray said, “please place your personal sachet inside. It will serve as the prize for the upcoming shooting ritual.”

Seeing that Shi Yuning made no move, the servant assumed she hadn’t heard clearly and repeated the request.

A veil of annoyance clouded Shi Yuning’s brow. She had heard perfectly well—she simply had no intention of complying.

This was her first time attending the Spring Hunt, and she knew nothing of its convoluted customs. She had imagined it as a simple hunting outing, never suspecting it came with so much additional rigmarole.

And all that rigmarole shared a single purpose: to create opportunities for unmarried men and women to mingle.

The shooting ritual was one of its main attractions.

First, the eligible young ladies participating in the hunt would remove their sachets and hand them to the palace servants, who would attach tags bearing each lady’s name. These prizes would then be hung along a six-zhang-long red cord.

The cord’s ends were tied to one-zhang-tall pillars.

The young gentlemen taking part in the ritual had to stand at the barrier on the far side of the hunting grounds and shoot their arrows.

Whoever shot down a prize first claimed the corresponding sachet.

But that was hardly the end of it. By tradition, the winner could also sit at the same table as the sachet’s owner during the evening bonfire roast.

It was a rare chance to get close to an admired lady, and since it was an imperial event, a bit of boldness wouldn’t draw much criticism.

Thus, the eligible young men and women flocked to the Spring Hunt with eager anticipation.

Everyone except Shi Yuning.

She had zero interest in the posturing playboys of the Imperial Capital.

Had she known about this in advance, she might have prepared a sachet like the other young ladies.

The ones they produced were intricate in design and exquisite in craftsmanship, made from gold thread or Hangzhou silk that glittered dazzlingly in the sunlight.

All brand new, clearly made specially for the occasion.

Shi Yuning glanced down at the sachet she wore today. Her grandmother had given it to her before she came to the capital.

It was sewn from the coarsest rural cloth with ordinary silk thread. The stitching was mediocre at best, with a few uneven places.

After half a year of wear, the edges had faded.

To others, it might look like a shabby old thing, suitable only as a prize. But to Shi Yuning, it embodied her grandmother’s care and her family’s affection.

“Miss Shi?”

The servant lingered at Shi Yuning’s side without moving on. Those seated nearby began glancing over, and the servant, growing anxious, called out again in a tense voice. Shi Yuning saw the panic on the servant’s face—her body had started to tremble, as if she might drop to her knees at any moment.

Shi Yuning let out a deep sigh. Fine. She could always get it back later.

With great reluctance, she untied the sachet from her waist and gently placed it in the tray the servant held.

Relief and gratitude flooded the servant’s face. She exhaled sharply and hurried toward the Crown Princess at the head of the gathering.

Shi Yuning’s eyes followed her sachet’s path to the raised dais.

This year’s Spring Hunt was presided over by the Crown Princess in place of the ailing Emperor, who had been unable to attend along with the Empress. The Crown Prince himself was unwell, leaving the event entirely in her hands.

Xie Zhaoran, the Crown Princess, hailed from the mansion of Duke Xie, pillar of three dynasties and a family of unwavering loyalty. She herself had been raised from childhood by her aunt the Empress in the palace, every gesture radiating imperial poise.

Today, she eschewed elaborate palace robes for a suit of crimson riding attire. Simple in style, it was impeccably tailored, accentuating her slender frame—narrow shoulders, a waist as slim as a willow.

Around that taut waist, instead of the satin belts favored by other ladies, she wore a leather girdle that lent her posture an even more upright bearing.

Her jet-black hair was tied high, with no ornaments at her temples. She exuded crisp efficiency and dashing heroism.

With solemn focus, she watched as the servants arranged the collected sachets before her. Next, per custom, she would personally attach the name tags to each one before handing them back for hanging as prizes.

Shi Yuning watched her long, elegant fingers deftly tie tags onto sachet after sachet—not hurriedly, but with graceful speed.

Shi Yuning’s had been collected last, so it came at the end of the line. Perhaps the preceding ones had tired her, but Shi Yuning felt that Xie Zhaoran spent longer on hers than any before.

She saw those slender, knuckled fingers wind red silk thread several times around her drab little sachet, thread it through the wooden name tag, then tie it off with elegant decisiveness.

And tie another knot besides.

Shi Yuning arched a brow. The Crown Princess had handled her sachet with particular care. Glancing at its faded corners, understanding dawned in her eyes.

Likely, it was the shabbiest-looking of the lot, and the Crown Princess feared damaging it.

She wasn’t as aloof as she appeared.

Shi Yuning recalled the rumors she’d heard upon first arriving in the capital: Xie Zhaoran was arrogant, relying on her pedigree to look down on everyone.

The talk wasn’t unfounded. During the month Shi Yuning had been forced to study palace etiquette, Xie Zhaoran had always ignored her presence.

Half a year ago, when the Crown Prince fell gravely ill, Xie Zhaoran had entered the Eastern Palace at the imperial family’s request to bring good fortune. Shi Yuning hadn’t seen her since.

Seeing her now, she seemed somehow changed, though Shi Yuning couldn’t pinpoint how.

As she pondered, Xie Zhaoran handed the items back to the servants and announced the start of the event.

The already lively grounds erupted in cheers that pierced the heavens, bubbling over like water hitting a boiling pot.

“No one’s taking Miss Li’s sachet from me!”

“Talk is cheap—it’s all about skill on the hunting field.”

“Exactly! Miss Li is the greatest beauty in the capital. Why should it go to you?”

Once the prizes were hung, a fierce scrum formed around the sachet belonging to Grand Tutor Li’s granddaughter. The young men shoved one another aside, desperate to loose the first arrow and claim Miss Li’s prize.

Miss Wang, daughter of Minister Wang, drew nearly as much fervor. She too ranked among the top beauties.

Their sachets hung toward the middle of the cord, drawing the bulk of the crowd to the central stretch of the starting line.

Shi Yuning quickly realized that all the sachets dangled from the same rope.

The middle ones swayed the most fiercely in the wind, making them the hardest to hit.

Placing the prizes of these celebrated ladies in the center ramped up the challenge, adding drama to the spectacle.

Shi Yuning scanned both ends, wondering where hers had ended up. Not in the left corner. She checked the far right—nothing.

Curious, she swept her gaze methodically from right to left. There, smack in the center, her drab gray sachet fluttered unassumingly in the breeze.

Wedged between Miss Li’s and Miss Wang’s, right at the dead center.

Shi Yuning’s eyes widened in shock. She shot to her feet, craning her neck for a better look. It really was hers.

What on earth? Why was hers in the middle?

She whipped her head toward the dais. The Crown Princess sat poised at the forefront, her gaze fixed on the distance—which led straight to the center of the rope.

Questions swirled in Shi Yuning’s mind. Coincidence, or had Xie Zhaoran done it deliberately?

Just then, Prince Yu arrived in a fresh set of archery riding gear. He strode over with a retinue in tow, exuding menace, and came to a halt precisely at the center of the starting line.

His guards roughly cleared the obstructing crowd from the red cord.

“Step aside. Don’t get in Prince Yu’s way while he shoots.”

Shi Yuning’s heart sank. She’d seen Prince Yu leave earlier and assumed he’d lost interest to go hunting on his own.

Now, clad in archery garb with a top-quality bow in hand, he looked as though he’d prepared specifically—and aimed to win.

“This bow of yours looks like prime quality, Second Highness,” called the son of Censor Chen from nearby. “You’ve come prepared today. Which lady has caught your eye?”

His question rang out loudly and deliberately, though it carried little real curiosity.

Every gaze in the crowd turned toward Shi Yuning.

The gossips set up a chorus of hoots and jeers.

“Brother Chen, why bother asking? Everyone in the capital knows Prince Yu has his sights on Miss Shi.”

Shi Yuning’s heart stuttered. Her worst fear had come true.

Prince Yu stretched his arms expansively and declared with haughty confidence, “Correct. This prince is here for Miss Shi. Anyone else who wants a shot, I’ll spot you three arrows first.”

His eyes burned into Shi Yuning, his face alight with smug certainty that none would dare challenge him.

And indeed, no one did.

The moment the words left his mouth, those around him backed away.

“How could we presume? Besides, Miss Shi is beyond our league.”

“Precisely. Your Highness is mighty—the perfect match for a tiger daughter of a military house like Miss Shi.”

“We’ll just cheer you on from the sidelines.”

Prince Yu shot Shi Yuning a triumphant wink. “Miss Shi, this prince looks forward to sharing a cup with you this evening.”

Shi Yuning’s expression froze. She simply couldn’t stomach Prince Yu’s self-proclaimed roguish winks and grimaces.

Whenever he made that face, his flat nose twitched uncontrollably.

Back in the countryside, Shi Yuning had seen pigs snort just like that while she fed them.

This Prince Yu was as stupid as he was vile. The Crown Prince had wed into the Xie family, so he set his sights on the Shi family with its military might.

His intentions were transparent as glass, yet he feigned a crush on Shi Yuning—a ploy only his pig-brained mind could dream up. He’d even proclaimed to the entire capital that he’d fallen for her at first sight and meant to make her his princess consort.

She averted her eyes in haste, staring instead at her gray sachet swaying in the wind.

If it fell into Prince Yu’s hands, the mere thought made her feel like she’d swallowed a live bug.

Over on his end, Prince Yu nocked an arrow with utter confidence and loosed several shots. Every one missed.

“The wind’s fierce today,” he announced. “Let this prince get a feel for it. Miss Shi’s sachet is mine today—I urge you all to eye other prizes.”

No one dared accuse him of breaking the rules, much less argue.

Even the noble sons who’d hoped to make Shi Yuning’s acquaintance via the ritual slunk off in disappointment to scout other prospects.

Shi Yuning laughed bitterly in frustration. Prince Yu grew more brazen by the day.

The current Emperor of Great Ye had but two sons: the eldest, Crown Prince; the second, Prince Yu. The Crown Prince had always been frail, and lately he lingered perpetually on his sickbed.

Last month, he’d even fallen into a coma. Whispers now held that he wouldn’t see twenty.

The Crown Prince was nineteen this year.

Prince Yu currently dominated all talk, with the world assuming the throne would be his once the Crown Prince perished.

Shi Yuning curled her lip. The reigning sovereign had spent a life in the saddle, wise and martial as a black tortoise—how had he sired one sickly weakling and one pig-brain?

Prince Yu soon exhausted his quiver.

His closest shot had the arrowhead graze the sachet as it fell, leaving Shi Yuning on tenterhooks.

She glanced at the men nearby, all making excuses about the wind and the sway and the difficulty, fawning over Prince Yu. She abandoned any thought of asking them to shoot for her prize.

She only prayed he’d fail to hit it and have the self-awareness to quit.

Prince Yu’s guards had already fetched a fresh full quiver for their lord.

They even clustered around to usher him forward a few steps. The central stretch of the starting line bulged outward in a hill-like arc, well beyond the rules.

He was cheating outright!

Shi Yuning gained fresh insight into the depths of Prince Yu’s shamelessness.

Closer now, his next arrow scraped past the name tag and thudded into the dirt.

His guards erupted in cheers, as if victory were assured.

Shi Yuning ducked her head, rummaging around for small stones to hurl as projectiles at that pig head of his. Even a little payback would feel good.

As she straightened, a red-feathered arrow streaked past her side with the force to sunder mountains and split seas.

It whooshed over the crowd’s heads with a piercing whistle and struck the name tag with a resounding clang!

The immense momentum snapped the tying cord. The red-feather arrow, tag in tow, hurtled seven or eight meters farther to nail itself into the hunting grounds’ perimeter fence!

The red cord thrashed wildly in the air, sending every sachet into a frenzy of shaking.

Even the red feather quivered without cease.

Only Shi Yuning’s sachet clung fast to the fence, hanging steady in midair.

Shi Yuning whipped around. In the morning glow, Xie Zhaoran stood in her crimson garb, bow drawn and released, her ink-dark brows and eyes swirling like the low-pressing clouds on the horizon. They fixed straight on Shi Yuning.