NTYOL 06

Chapter – 06

The Fox Picks Up a Brother

Tinglan looked at Jiqing’s hand gripping the reins.

It was a slender, fair hand, with rounded fingertips and faint blue veins visible on the back.

One would never guess that such a hand could conceal a power that made others’ blood run cold.

Tinglan’s gaze was impossible to ignore. The fox sat crookedly on his horse and let out a somewhat guilty laugh. “I do have pretty strong hands.”

Jiqing might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but as a pure-blooded fox spirit, he did have a fair bit of strength.

After a moment of surprise, Tinglan spoke, “Your Highness truly is… one of a kind.”

He wasn’t just referring to the young prince’s startling display of strength, but also his entire personality, his mannerisms, even his appearance—all of which hinted at something different.

Different from those in the palace.

Different from… ordinary people too.

Just where had this young prince been raised to develop such a temperament?

The fox lowered his head, feeling vaguely that this was a compliment. How embarrassing—being praised by his good friend all the time.

I’m not really that great, hehe.

Wanting to return the favor, the fox tightened his grip on the reins, carefully leaned down, and brought his mouth close to Tinglan’s ear.

The fox didn’t know any flowery words; after racking his brain, all he could manage was a simple “Well… you’re great too. You’ve given me so many things and treated me to delicious food.”

Tinglan fell silent.

The feared Nine-Thousand-Year-Old, venomous and merciless, known for killing without a trace—faced with this rough compliment from the fox, found himself utterly speechless. He could only nod vaguely.

First came a flicker of joy, but it passed in an instant, replaced by a tangle of conflicting thoughts pressing down on his heart.

What was so good about that? Did he think anyone who gave him food or gifts was a good person?

So trusting of others—even a three-year-old knew that nothing good comes from someone being overly attentive without reason…

If it were someone else, would he be the same? Would he be that easily led astray?

A strange anger stirred in Tinglan’s heart, though he couldn’t pinpoint its source. His eyes darkened, and he let out a quiet, self-mocking laugh, though his expression remained gentle. “Your Highness, are you tired? Would you like to go have some tea?”

The fox didn’t want tea, nor was he tired, but the tea house had snacks. So he nodded eagerly and hopped off the horse, using Tinglan’s outstretched arm for support.

From a distance, the Emperor watched his most trusted eunuch walk alongside his newly recovered prince, the two appearing to be deep in conversation.

He said to those beside him with a smile, “Tinglan truly is my confidant. I merely mentioned in passing that he should look after the boy a little, and he’s already taken it to heart.”

The Emperor didn’t say Jiqing’s name—perhaps he hadn’t even remembered what this “new son” was called—but that didn’t stop everyone’s attention from converging on them.

Curious gazes, probing looks, predatory stares—all fixed on the fox. Yet he didn’t even turn his head, heading straight into the tent to eat and drink.

Nothing matters more than food!

He wiped his hands clean with the handkerchief Tinglan handed him, eagerly grabbed a plate of pastries, carefully picked out the prettiest one, and placed it on his good friend’s plate.

He did it so naturally, as if this was exactly how things should be between him and Tinglan.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

On the plate was a simple chestnut cake, common in the palace. Watching the young prince eat it with such relish, Tinglan thought to himself that it was only because the prince was new here and found everything novel. Once he got used to things, it wouldn’t seem so special anymore.

The fox happily finished two pastries and drank a cup of milk, when someone from the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs rushed in with a message.

The letter was to be read and burned immediately. The fox was burning with curiosity—pastries forgotten—and secretly tugged at Tinglan’s robe under the table.

What happened? Why burn it?

Tinglan efficiently disposed of the ashes. It was just that an important prisoner had escaped from the Embroidered Uniform Guard’s prison—nothing major. He looked down at the young prince with a smile. “It’s nothing, Your Highness. Would you like another cup of milk?”

The fox raised his cup and grinned. “Yes, please!”

After a full day of running around, the fox fell asleep in the carriage on the way back, was carried drowsily into the palace, and went straight to bed.

When he opened his eyes again, it was already past midnight.

He rubbed his eyes and crawled out from under the covers.

The palace was dimly lit, with only a small lamp by the bedside. The fox picked it up and set out to find some food.

Sigh, how did I fall asleep? I missed out on Tinglan’s treat.

The small kitchen was just outside his room. The fox shuffled out in his slippers, yawning and half-asleep, wondering—why wasn’t Qiuyuan here?

But he didn’t think much of it. He reached the door, slid the bolt open, and pushed. The door frame creaked loudly, cutting through the silent night.

The moment he opened the door, through the gap, he saw a man standing in the courtyard, a dagger pressed against Qiuyuan’s throat.

Jiqing was instantly alert.

The night wind slammed the wooden door open, banging it against the wall with a dull thud.

He took two steps forward and tossed the lantern aside.

A faint blue glint seemed to flash in his eyes, barely visible in the pitch-dark night.

Then, the man who had been threatening Qiuyuan crumpled against the wall and fell to the ground.

Huh? The fox’s eyes went wide.

He hadn’t even done anything yet, and the guy was already down?

Weakling.

And you call yourself a kidnapper?

“Qiuyuan, are you okay?” The fox pattered over, wanting to help her up.

Qiuyuan clutched her neck and waved her hands frantically, scrambling to her feet and stumbling over to block Jiqing. “Your Highness, don’t go near him—he’s dangerous!” She tried to push Jiqing back inside.

The man on the ground struggled to crawl forward a few paces, lifted his head, and rasped, “She called you ‘Your Highness’? Which prince are you?”

Qiuyuan snapped at that. “Our Highness is the Thirteenth Prince.”

“Thirteenth?” The man sounded genuinely puzzled, his eyes fixed on the fox.

The fox patted Qiuyuan’s shoulder, picked up the fallen lantern, and walked over. Qiuyuan, terrified, pulled a hairpin from her hair and followed with clenched teeth.

The fox crouched down, picked up a small stick from the ground, and poked him. “I’m Pei Jiqing. And who are you?”

The lantern light illuminated the man’s face—young, handsome, but weary. He said weakly, “If we’re counting that way, then I’m your seventh brother.”

The fox’s eyes lit up with realization. He immediately stooped to help the dirty, bloodied man to his feet.

Good thing he hadn’t acted just now—that would’ve been bad. The fox let out a sigh of relief.

When his “little brother” took his arm, Pei Yue froze completely.

Behind them, Qiuyuan let out a silent shriek, frantically tugging at Jiqing’s sleeve and whispering, “Your Highness, this Seventh Prince… has already been stripped of his title by His Majesty and imprisoned in the诏狱 [imperial prison].”

The fox blinked, showing no surprise—he hadn’t understood a word.

What does “tree person” mean…

This person didn’t feel like wood when pinched—he was soft. Probably not a tree.

The fox nodded stiffly and proceeded to help his cheap seventh brother inside.

Qiuyuan was stunned.

Pei Yue, whether from shock or something else, moved awkwardly, limping through the door.

That night, the Eastern Depot, Western Depot, and Embroidered Uniform Guard cast a vast net outside, searching for the escaped special prisoner. The Emperor didn’t seem to care much—he’d long since treated this son as good as dead.

But no one expected that the former Seventh Prince had actually made his way into the palace.

Inside the chamber, the fox sat on the bed wrapped in a blanket, holding a bowl of porridge that Qiuyuan had made for him.

In the chair before him, Pei Yue was dressing his own wounds, exposing most of his chest.

“My dear little brother, the medicine here is really subpar. Your big brother is about to die here—don’t go hoarding the good stuff.”

The fox dangled his legs lazily off the bed, leaned forward, and said quite seriously, “You won’t die.” He’d already checked—they were just superficial wounds, nothing fatal.

Pei Yue let out a dry laugh, looked up, and studied the handsome young boy before him by candlelight. “Are you really my brother? You don’t seem like one of my family.”

It wasn’t even a matter of degree—it was a complete mismatch.

His family didn’t produce good kids like this.

Jiqing pouted and turned his head away, mumbling, “I’m the Thirteenth Prince anyway.”

“Good little brother, do you know what would happen if someone found out you’re hiding me?”

The fox was startled and pulled his blanket tighter. “What… what would happen?”

“You would cease to be a prince.”

The fox let out a long sigh of relief. He was never really a prince anyway—if he couldn’t be a prince, he’d just be a fox spirit. What was there to fear?

He lowered his head and slurped up some hot porridge. Delicious.

The next morning, right after the morning court session, the fox mysteriously pulled Tinglan aside in front of the hall.

Ting Lan was tilting his head, smiling as he spoke with the young prince. Just as he looked up and pushed open the door, he saw an escaped prisoner sitting boldly at the table, eating and drinking heartily.

And it was the very meal he had sent to the young prince.

Ting Lan’s knuckles cracked as he clenched his fist. He let out a cold laugh, turned around, and closed the door. Bowing his head, he said softly to Ji Qing, “Thank you, Your Highness, for giving this servant such a great gift.”

Then he raised his head and looked toward Pei Yue.

The moment their eyes met, Pei Yue sprang up, grabbed a fruit platter to shield himself, and wailed, “Dear brother, how can you be in league with this man?!”

“And you, Ting Lan—what the hell are you doing calling yourself ‘this servant’ in front of him?” Pei Yue hugged the fruit platter like a warrior clutching his shield, circling the table. “Who are you putting on this groveling act for?”

“Dear brother, has this man deceived you somehow?” Pei Yue pointed dramatically at Ting Lan’s nose, full of righteous indignation.

“Your Highness, this man has a silver tongue. What tricks did he use to convince you to keep him here?” Ting Lan inclined his body toward the fox and asked softly.

Sure enough, anyone could deceive you… Ting Lan looked at the young prince’s bewildered profile, his brows furrowed, a dark glint flashing through his eyes.

At least he had arrived first.

With him watching over, no one else could spirit the prince away.

The fox was completely dumbfounded, standing rooted to the spot, looking first at Ting Lan, then at his cheaply acquired older brother.

What was going on here?

He had only wanted Ting Lan to help find a doctor to treat someone—after all, a fox spirit couldn’t heal humans, only snakes, foxes, rabbits, chickens…