NTYOL 04

Chapter – 04

Night Encounter with the Fox Spirit

At the hour of Hai (9–11 PM), as the night grew deeper, the Crown Prince rose, stretching his stiff wrists and shoulders, and frowned at the attendant beside him. “Why hasn’t Xinze returned yet?”

“Your Highness, the Prince of Ning has returned… but he’s currently in the storeroom.”

“What is he doing in the storeroom again?” The Crown Prince raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, Your Highness…”

The sound of footsteps came, and the study door slid open. The Prince of Ning appeared in the doorway with a long box tucked under his arm. “Brother, I’m taking your blue-steel sword.”

The Crown Prince sat down, waved off his attendants, and asked with a mix of exasperation and amusement, “Don’t you have your own fine sword? Why take mine?”

“Big Brother’s things are better.” The Prince of Ning set down the box and downed a cup of tea in one gulp.

“You went to see Thirteenth Brother?”

“I did. The chef Father assigned him is pretty skilled—his food’s not bad.” The Prince of Ning set down his cup and plopped down beside the Crown Prince.

The Crown Prince brushed his hand over the new intelligence reports on the desk—he knew everything Ji Qing had said to the Prince of Ning today—and said slowly with a faint smile, “It seems Thirteenth Brother’s character is compatible with yours. You hit it off at first sight.”

Though the Crown Prince and the Prince of Ning were full brothers, one took after their father and the other after their mother, with completely different temperaments. The Crown Prince narrowed his eyes now, considering quietly—if this Ji Qing truly posed no threat, that would be a good thing, and not worth making a move against. But if this man was deeply calculating and had easily deceived Xinze, then more thought would be required.

Going by past experience, the second possibility was more likely…

“Brother… have you ever heard that Tinglan has a taste for boys?” The Prince of Ning lowered his voice and suddenly asked with an air of mystery.

That single sentence shattered all the Crown Prince’s train of thought, dragging it straight into Tinglan’s bedchamber.

Since he was his own younger brother after all, it wasn’t easy to criticize him outright. The Crown Prince was taken aback, let out a helpless sigh, and continued, “I haven’t heard of it, but since male love flourishes among the nobility of our dynasty, it’s hardly surprising that Tinglan has such a preference.”

“Why are you asking about this? Have you discovered something…” The Crown Prince was still young after all and couldn’t restrain his curiosity.

“No! I haven’t discovered anything.” Prince Ning shook his head vigorously. “It’s just that I ran into him today and suddenly thought of it—just asking casually… Really, just casually.”

The Crown Prince gave him a meaningful look but didn’t press further. He picked up his teacup and took a sip, watching his younger brother wave a sword around aimlessly, a gentle, brotherly smile on his face. “Why do you want my sword today? I’ve offered it to you before, and you refused.”

“It’s not for me—I’m giving it to Thirteenth Brother.”

Upon hearing this, the Crown Prince’s heart gave a sudden lurch. He’d guessed right—that Pei Jiqing was indeed no ordinary man. One meeting, and he’d so easily earned Xinze’s trust.

He turned his head helplessly, staring at the candle flame swaying in the wind, lost in thought. It seemed he’d have to meet this man in person after all.

Pei Xinze’s brain was useless for such matters.

At the same time, Jiqing—no ordinary man and deeply calculating—was sneaking about, preparing to stir up trouble.

He’d already sent Qiuyuan off to mind her own business, and Tinglan had left long ago. Now, the only one in his bedchamber was this fox.

With no one around, he could do as he pleased.

Jiqing lowered his head and snickered, then leaped onto the couch with a bound.

A flash of light—and the handsome young boy rolling around on the couch transformed into a fluffy, adorable little white ball…

Well, actually, a handsome fox.

His lavish daytime garments clattered to the ground in a heap, lying still upon the green embroidered silk quilt.

The scene was like something out of a supernatural tale—gorgeous to the point of absurdity. The white fox slipped free from the jingling pearls and jade, landing nimbly on the floor.

Above, the bright moon hung like a mirror, its light catching the fox as it leaped out the window and vanished into the thicket of begonias.

Whoopee! I’m going out to play!

The fox looked back with satisfaction at its big fluffy tail, giving it a quick groom with its paw. It had been so long since the tail was out—it was practically suffocated.

The fox strutted forward, chest puffed out, as straight as a little bench.

Who would even notice a tiny fox in the flowers? No one would see it at all.

Jiqing happily bounded along on his paws, making a beeline for his plan: to find some grapes for a midnight snack. If no grapes, apples or peanuts would do—he wasn’t picky.

He headed toward the garden that looked most promising for finding food.

In the imperial garden at night, the shadows of trees were dappled, and lanterns, blown by the night wind, curled against the walls, making faint rustling sounds. The fox sat atop the wall, curiously poking one with a paw.

Boring.

The fox jumped down. He’d already made a full circuit of the garden, but found no grapes, peanuts, or apples—only a few red fruits he’d stripped from a crabapple tree, which tasted fine but weren’t nearly enough.

These people are so strange. With such a big place, why not plant more edible things and raise a flock of chicks?

Chewing on a crabapple fruit, the fox slunk back the way he came.

From afar came the sound of grass being trampled. The fox ducked swiftly into a low bush, eyes peeking out with curiosity.

Who’s out hunting? There’s nothing here—might as well go home and sleep.

A familiar red hem swept by.

It’s Tinglan!

The fox perked up, tilting its head in delight, about to jump out—but then remembered it was in fox form. It wouldn’t do to startle a friend, so it stayed put.

Voices drifted from outside: “Grand Secretary, the perimeter is secure. I’ve checked thoroughly.”

Indeed it was secure—save for one little fox, but what danger could a small fox pose?

“Any further movements from Prince Wei?”

“His Highness took a heavy blow last time and has been quiet for a while. I doubt he’ll have the strength to contend for the heirship in the future,” the subordinate replied, carefully weighing his words.

“That’s not necessarily true.”

The two continued murmuring about things the fox couldn’t follow. He idly pawed at a twig on the ground out of boredom.

Suddenly, the hesitant speaker stiffened, glaring toward the bushes and barking, “Who’s there!” He drew his sword and advanced, hacking aside the obstructing flowers and shrubs to find the eavesdropper.

The fox was nestled deep inside the thicket—no amount of hacking could reach him—but he was still a bit miffed.

I only ate a few of your fruits, and I’ve already swallowed them. Can’t spit ’em out. I’ll pay you back if I have to—no need to be so fierce.

The fox didn’t run. He stood his ground, glaring back as fiercely as he could.

And so Tinglan watched with surprise as his subordinate froze, lowered his sword, and crept closer to the thicket, voice dropping to an almost reverent whisper—so pathetic he wouldn’t even turn his head to speak: “My lord, it’s a little fat puppy. So pretty!”

Jiqing got even angrier. Idiot! You’re the fat puppy!

The moonlight was just right. Tinglan looked past his subordinate’s foolish silhouette and saw the white mass standing in the flowers. Almost involuntarily, he murmured, “That’s a fox, isn’t it?”

Jiqing huffed at that, finally placated. My good friend is the smart one.

The white fox nimbly hopped out of the grass and walked straight to Tinglan’s feet. Under the gaze of both men, time seemed to stretch, and the silver moonlight grew thick as honey.

It was as if a fox spirit had wandered into a dream.

The fox grazed against Tinglan’s robes with elegant nonchalance, its long tail brushing past—and stirred something unnameable in the heart.

Where the white fox passed, it left no trace… except one.

The fox raised a paw and, with great satisfaction, left a neat little round paw print on the Grand Secretary’s expensive shoes.

Just a little mark for you. Bye-bye, good friend—I’m off to sleep.

The man watched as the white silhouette easily scaled the high wall and disappeared from sight.

“Does any noble in the palace keep a fox?” Tinglan asked, lifting the hem of his robe and looking down.

It was so tame with people—surely not wild.

“None that I know of, my lord… Could we have encountered a fox immortal? And it was so close with you—that’s a great omen!” The subordinate’s eyes gleamed as he slapped his thigh.

“Nonsense.” Tinglan looked down at the paw print on his shoe. Somehow, having his shoes dirtied by a fox from nowhere didn’t irritate him in the least…

After a moment, Tinglan looked up, his tone as flat as ever. “Continue surveillance. Report any unusual activity immediately.”

“And the new Thirteenth Prince—should he be watched?” the subordinate ventured cautiously.

“Him… No need to send anyone yet. I’ll handle it personally.”

If the man was genuinely simple, there was no need to watch him. If he was putting on an act, then a few men would be useless—and worse, they’d tip him off.

The subordinate blinked, wondering if the wind had made him mishear.

But since the Grand Secretary had arranged it so, there must be a reason. Perhaps this Thirteenth Prince was so deeply calculating that only his lordship could deal with him.

Tinglan walked out of the imperial garden alone. In the distance, the many palace buildings had already extinguished their lights, vanishing into the darkness.

Jiqing.

He slowly recited the name in his mind. Tonight’s events were past—and the man would surely be on guard now.

A pity.

Not far off, on an osmanthus tree, a spider was weaving its web under cover of night.

Early the next morning, while Tinglan was reviewing documents, a guard hurried in to announce, “Grand Secretary, the Thirteenth Prince has arrived at the corridor.”

Tinglan’s hand, turning a page, paused. He looked up and asked again, “Who did you say is here?”

“The Thirteenth Prince, my lord. He says he’s come to see you.”

Tinglan left the scattered scrolls as they were, rose, and hastily pushed the door open. There he saw a certain handsome prince sitting on a stone chair in the courtyard, waving eagerly at him. “Tinglan, I brought you little buns and pastries.”

The morning breeze carried the scent of unknown flowers.

Why would the young prince come here? Tinglan hurried forward, lowering his gaze, eyelashes concealing his thoughts, and bent slightly. “Your Highness, if you have business, you need only send word. There’s no need to come in person.”

The fox held up the food box. “Actually, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to hang out with you and have a meal together.”

Tinglan straightened up, staring at Jiqing for a long moment, his eyes dark and unreadable.

Jiqing opened the box, laid out an array of dishes on the table, and handed over a pair of chopsticks.

But Tinglan didn’t move.

“Have you already eaten?” The fox was horrified—he should’ve gotten up earlier. But the bed was too cozy. Sleeping in wasn’t his fault.

Jiqing lowered his eyes again and said softly, “No, not yet.”

The fox was starving. He didn’t want to hear any more formalities from Tinglan. Reaching out, he pulled the man over, snatched a pastry, and stuffed it in his mouth, mumbling, “Then hurry up and eat—it won’t taste good cold.”

Seeing Tinglan finally pick up his chopsticks, the fox smirked inwardly. See? I told you I’m good at taking care of people.

Don’t worry—I’ll take good care of you.