NTYOL 05

Chapter – 05 

A Fox Holds a Grudge, and Settles It on the Spot

“Here, have a bun.” Jiqing slid the steamer basket over, another bun already clamped between his teeth, and asked indistinctly, “Are you busy today?”

He’d eaten too much too fast and was getting choked. He poured himself some tea to wash it down.

“His Majesty is going hunting at the suburban grounds today. This servant will attend him.”

“Oh.” Jiqing lowered his head, his small reply tinged with disappointment. Then something struck him, and he looked up sharply. “Hunting? Um… Is His Majesty in good health?”

At this, Tinglan didn’t quite know how to respond. Jiqing’s words were far too blunt—his disappointment and surprise barely concealed, as if he were hoping the Emperor might be unwell…

But if he truly wished that, would he say it so outright?

So Tinglan only frowned slightly and said, “His Majesty is in robust health—still vigorous as ever.”

The fox lowered his head, poking at a pitiful bun on the plate with his chopsticks.

His mind simply couldn’t grasp such subtleties. He’d just realized he’d been duped!

Back then, those people had told him there was an old man in poor health, his last wish to see his lost son before he died. But that child was already dead. To grant the old father some peace, they’d asked him to pose as the prince and trick the old man.

At that time, the fox had rarely schemed a bit and played the role of a wicked fox for once. He figured that since his trials required him to build connections with others anyway, this way he wouldn’t have to go through the trouble at all. Once the old man passed away and no one paid him any mind, he could simply take the chance to slip away.

But now, that so-called emperor was in perfect health and could even ride a horse… So how long was he supposed to keep up this act?

The fox channeled his grief and indignation into appetite, taking a fierce bite of the bun. “Sister, I won’t be able to go home for a while.”

These people were even more calculating than foxes. He’d have to be more careful next time.

Ji Qing’s heavy sighs and lamentations struck Ting Lan as even more peculiar… Could it be that he was actually hoping for the emperor’s death?

“Does Your Highness wish to go?” Ting Lan asked in a low voice.

“Is it to ride horses?” The fox immediately cast aside his troubles of being deceived, lifting his head with a face full of pleasant surprise.

Ting Lan nodded.

The fox lowered his head and said softly, “But I don’t know how to ride.”

Not to mention riding—he’d never even seen a horse before. All he knew was that the creature had four legs and was probably a bit bigger than kittens and puppies, which also had four legs.

“This servant will teach Your Highness.”

Before the words had fully faded, there was suddenly an extra person in Ting Lan’s arms.

The young prince leaned in, his fingers hooked over Ting Lan’s shoulders, his upper body nearly pressed against him. His jet-black hair cascaded over Ting Lan’s legs, and his luminous eyes reflected Ting Lan’s startled face.

Ting Lan stiffly averted his gaze, refusing to meet his eyes.

“It’s settled then—you’re not allowed to laugh at me when the time comes,” the fox cheered. “My good friend, you’re the best.”

Ting Lan didn’t understand why the young prince could approach him so naturally.

If he only wanted to secure a better life in the palace, there was no need to demean himself like this, getting so close to a eunuch.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Because he was secretly pleased by it.

The fox happily returned to his seat. Finally, he could get some fresh air! His whole body was brimming with energy. He wanted to run, jump, spin in place, chase chickens, herd dogs, and ride horses—right now!

After the meal, Ji Qing directly boarded the carriage Ting Lan had prepared. The carriage was lavish, adorned with many decorations the fox couldn’t understand. He poked and prodded at them for a while, then waited and waited. They were about to depart, but Ting Lan still hadn’t gotten on.

The fox lifted the curtain and tapped the attendant beside him. “Excuse me, I’d like to ask…”

The attendant saluted with his sword in hand. “What are Your Highness’s orders?”

“Where did Ting Lan go?”

“Your Highness, the Seal Bearer is attending to His Majesty.”

“Thank you,” the fox said, withdrawing his head in slight dejection. Honestly, couldn’t that emperor do things himself?

Even the chickens they raised at home could feed themselves—you just scatter the corn on the ground and they peck at it on their own.

The fox leaned against the carriage interior. The carriage swayed and jolted so much he couldn’t sleep, so he lay by the window and looked outside.

As he looked, he noticed that on a nearby carriage, a pair of eyes were fixed on him.

Not knowing who it was, the fox happily smiled back. But before he could even raise his hand to wave, the other person had already retreated back into their carriage.

The fox pulled his head back in, lay sprawled out in boredom, and quietly tried to fall asleep.

But on the other carriage, things were far from calm.

“That’s Pei Jiqing?!” The Prince of Wei lowered his voice and asked.

“That should be correct,” his subordinate replied respectfully.

He narrowed his eyes, fingers idly stroking a curved bow, and said viciously, “He certainly does have a pretty face. But in the palace, a pretty face alone is the most useless thing. I hear he’s close with Ting Lan—just arrived and already found himself a backer, has he?”

His advisor chimed in agreement, “He seems to have a bit of wit, but he’s also muddled. Utterly unambitious—seeking a servant as his patron.”

The Prince of Wei chuckled, malice flickering in his eyes. “That’s the Nine Thousand Years—don’t mistake him for some ordinary servant. If Pei Jiqing truly latches onto him, he could become a minor threat.”

He lifted the curtain and gazed at the expanse of green and yellow in the hunting grounds, murmuring, “None of my brothers are ever easy to deal with.”

The Seventh Prince had finally fallen, the Crown Prince’s position was unstable, and now there was this Pei Jiqing. Truly, as one exits the stage, another enters.

But making a move now—it was still too early.

He’d need to bide his time…

Before the carriage had even stopped, while the Prince of Wei was still straightening his robes to ensure he made no mistakes before the Emperor, the fox had already shot out through the window, bursting into a wild run.

What a vast place!

This sky, this earth, these woods!

This place was wonderful—the fox loved it!

Others hadn’t even disembarked yet, and the fox had already run a great distance, only to scurry back and blend into the crowd.

Though calling it “blending in” was generous—the fox was far too conspicuous. On an imperial outing, everyone walked with heads bowed and eyes lowered, yet he was the one smiling the brightest. Since he had not yet come of age, his hair was simply tied up with a hairpin, cascading loosely to his waist. He practically bounced as he walked; with every step, his hair leaped along, dazzling in the sunlight.

The Emperor spotted this newly recognized son from afar. He squinted and smiled, deeply satisfied, and joked with his close ministers: “Look, all of you—isn’t this son of mine the very image of me?”

The Emperor loved beauty. Though no longer in his prime, he took great pride in his youthful looks. Now that he had such a handsome “son,” he was even more self-satisfied, showing him off to his officials.

Standing beside the Emperor, Ting Lan listened to the sycophantic praises and thought to himself that they did get one thing right—the young prince was indeed… otherworldly in appearance.

He gazed across the crowd and saw Ji Qing looking around, as if searching for someone. A inexplicable irritation rose in his heart, and the corners of his mouth tightened.

By the time he came to his senses, the figure had already vanished from his sight.

Just as expected…

Before he could dwell on it further, someone quietly tugged at his sleeve and whispered close to his ear, “When are we going riding?”

Ting Lan didn’t turn around. He replied calmly, “Your Highness, please wait a moment.”

The crowd had their backs to them, busy flattering the Emperor. No one noticed that the Thirteenth Prince had appeared beside Ting Lan.

And no one noticed that the Nine Thousand Years had blushed.

The Emperor had gone off with his attendants for a ride, and the Nine Thousand Years finally had some free time to deal with this troublesome little fox spirit.

Ting Lan rubbed his temples, genuinely feeling as though he’d been bewitched—and the source of that spell was this very person.

Calling him a fox spirit was no slander at all.

Ting Lan knew full well that the young prince was only deliberately trying to please him. No one would willingly bare their heart to a eunuch.

And he himself was only testing step by step whether this person was friend or foe.

Logically, he understood everything perfectly, yet he always found himself losing his head for no reason.

He lowered his gaze. “Your Highness, hold here—yes, and place your foot here.”

Ji Qing had his foot in the right place and his hands in the right place, but his entire body was sprawled across the horse’s back as he babbled, “I’m a little scared—don’t you dare let go.”

Ting Lan could only soothe him, “I won’t let go.”

The fox remained draped over the horse. The more flustered he grew, the faster he talked. “Ting Lan, do you want to come eat at my place? Qiu Yuan says we’re having roasted lamb tonight. Or I could come to yours—I won’t eat much, so don’t worry.”

What was there to worry about when it came to a meal? Ting Lan was caught between laughter and exasperation. He stopped walking and helped the fox, who was sprawled across the horse’s back, sit up properly. “Whatever Your Highness wishes—it’s all fine.”

“It’s settled then—I’m coming to your place to eat!”

Hehe, he’d get a free meal at his good friend’s place.

The fox started scheming again with his muddled little calculations. No one had ever asked him for food money, and when he asked Qiu Yuan about it, Qiu Yuan seemed not to understand.

His sister had said that if the price isn’t clearly marked, it’s a scam. And here he was, eating and drinking at a scam establishment—how much was this going to cost?

Mooching a meal off a good friend would save him a little money, and every little bit counted. He was a frugal fox, after all—Ji Qing thought gleefully to himself.

Suddenly, an arrow tore through the wind, grazing past the fox and embedding itself in the grass.

The fox knew it was coming, but he didn’t dodge.

After all, it wouldn’t hit him, and it wouldn’t hit Ting Lan either.

He remained wobbling precariously on the horse.

Ting Lan’s expression sharpened instantly. He turned to look in the direction from which the arrow had come.

“This must be Thirteenth Brother—my apologies. I just spotted a white-furred fox and wanted to shoot it for a fur collar. I didn’t expect to startle you while you were riding.”

The Prince of Wei sat lazily on his horse, a bow slung across his shoulder, his eyes filled with contempt.

Ji Qing looked up, his expression losing its earlier leisure. He straightened himself, forgetting his fear, and squinted against the light at the newcomer.

“Prince of Wei, this is hardly the hunting grounds, is it? With His Majesty present, you dare brandish a weapon—are you plotting regicide?” Ting Lan’s voice was unhurried, like a viper slowly approaching its prey.

“You flatter me, Seal Bearer. Allow me to apologize.” The Prince of Wei dismounted and approached with a smile, fixing his gaze on Ting Lan. He made a half-hearted, improper bow and said in a low voice, “You certainly have refined tastes in leisure.”

Then he looked up at Ji Qing and smirked, “My little brother is quite beautiful—that’s only natural, after all.”

After all, eunuchs were barely human.

The Prince of Wei didn’t know exactly what relationship Pei Jiqing had with Ting Lan, so his words were deliberately ambiguous. But even if Pei Jiqing was a bastard brought in from outside, he was still a prince now. Suggesting that a eunuch had taken a fancy to him—well, that was bound to provoke some fury.

If he could still carry on with Ting Lan as if nothing had happened, then this little brother of his was truly one who could endure humiliation for a greater purpose.

Having said his piece, the Prince of Wei chuckled to himself, turned, and rode off.

Ji Qing suddenly jumped off the horse. He’d only learned how to mount, not dismount, but now he was too angry to care. He tumbled off in a flurry, landing silently on the ground.

So you’re the one shooting at foxes, huh!

So you’re the one using foxes for fur collars!

And a white-furred fox at that!

I am a white-furred fox!

If I turned back into my true form, I’d scare the daylights out of you, you villain! Who do you think you’re threatening with that lousy arrow?!

Fuming, Ji Qing stomped over, picked up the arrow, and silently climbed back onto the horse, waiting until the man was far away.

Ting Lan stood still, his expression dark. He thought to himself that the arrangements concerning the Prince of Wei would definitely have to change.

A man like that—if left unchecked, would cause great trouble.

And then there was what the Prince of Wei had said to Ji Qing… No matter how naive the boy was, he should have understood by now, shouldn’t he?

He turned his head—only to see the fox sitting on his horse, holding a single arrow in his hand. He tilted his head, smiled at Ting Lan, and hurled it into the distance.

“Who’s there?!”

The arrow grazed the King of Wei’s cheek, leaving a thin red mark.

The accompanying guards immediately erupted into chaos, pointing their weapons in the direction the arrow had come from, yet unable to locate the enemy. “Quick, protect His Highness!”

“A bunch of useless fools!” the King of Wei cursed, clutching his face as he looked at the arrow that had nearly struck him.

The arrowhead was completely buried in the grass, the tail still quivering three times—a clear sign of the immense strength behind the shot.

Furious, he whipped his head around, but saw only Pei Jiqing swaying unsteadily on horseback, with even Tinglan holding the reins for him. Neither of them carried any bow or arrow.

The King of Wei’s heart turned cold in an instant. Such a master, moving without a sound—could it be that his father had arranged this?

At that thought, he ground his teeth audibly, a venomous gleam rising in his eyes.

Pei Jiqing, to have alarmed the Emperor, you are indeed extraordinary.