“Shi Huai, what do you usually do at home?” Zhao Huan asked, making conversation for lack of anything else to say. There was a hint of nervousness in his voice.
“Read, practice calligraphy, and take the occasional walk in the garden,” Shi Huai replied simply.
“Isn’t that boring? Why don’t you come out and have some fun? There’s a place outside the city that’s especially fun. There are loads of wild rabbits there. Next time, I’ll take you hunting for some...”
Before Zhao Huan could finish, Xie Zhaolin caught up from behind and wedged himself between them.
“Zhao Huan, stop bothering him. He’s from the Imperial Academy. When would he have time to go rabbit hunting with you?”
Zhao Huan was shoved to the side. He wrinkled his nose and gave an indignant snort. “So what if he’s from the Imperial Academy? Does that mean people from the Imperial Academy aren’t allowed to hunt rabbits?”
Xie Zhaolin ignored him. He lowered his head to look at Shi Huai, his gaze lingering over Shi Huai’s face for a moment.
“When did the birthmark on your face disappear completely? I remember that when I saw you as a child, there was still a small patch on your left cheek.”
Shi Huai touched his left cheek. The bluish mark that had once been there had left no trace behind, and his skin was now as smooth and flawless as jade.
“It was probably gone by the time I was six or seven. Children grow, after all. Things like that disappear as they grow.”
“That really is amazing.” There was an indescribable look in Xie Zhaolin’s eyes.
“I saw you once when you were little, too. Back then, you were still... Well, rather special.”
“And now?” Shi Huai tilted his head as he looked at him.
Xie Zhaolin’s heart gave a sudden thump under that gaze, and the tips of his ears quietly turned red.
“Now you’re even better-looking.”
His voice dropped several notes, carrying the awkward sincerity unique to a teenage boy.
Shi Huai felt a little embarrassed by the compliment. He lowered his head and stroked the mane on the horse’s neck, pretending he hadn’t heard.
The horses’ hooves clattered against the ground.
The group passed through a sparse stretch of woods and arrived at an open meadow. Several tents stood in the distance, their colorful flags snapping in the wind.
This was a private hunt organized by the sons of the capital’s aristocratic families. It was hardly an official event—just a group of half-grown boys out to let loose.
The leader was Li Chengze, the heir of Duke Chengguo. At fifteen, he was the oldest among them.
He wore a set of dark riding clothes, a short blade hanging at his waist, and black riding boots on his feet. His entire bearing suggested a steadiness beyond his years.
Li Chengze was sitting in a chair outside one of the tents, drinking tea. When he saw Shi Huai jump down from his horse, the teacup in his hand paused.
He set it down and rose to his feet. Walking toward Shi Huai, he looked him up and down.
“You’re the young master of the Yongning Marquis’s household?”
Li Chengze’s voice was low and slightly hoarse, as though he had not yet completely passed through adolescence.
“Shi Huai pays his respects to Your Lordship.” Shi Huai performed a proper bow, bending at just the right angle—respectful without appearing servile.
Li Chengze reached out to help him up. His fingers paused slightly when they touched Shi Huai’s arm, and his gaze settled on Shi Huai’s face for three seconds.
“There’s no need for such formality. Now that you’re here, you’re our guest.”
Li Chengze withdrew his hand, then turned to instruct the attendant beside him. “Bring Young Master Shi a gentler horse. Make sure he doesn’t fall.”
“Thank you, Your Lordship.” Shi Huai gave another half-bow, a polite smile resting on his lips.
Xie Zhaolin came over and lowered his voice beside Shi Huai’s ear. “Why is Brother Chengze being so polite today? Usually, he doesn’t even give anyone a proper look.”
Shi Huai turned his head and glanced at him without replying.
A tabby cat suddenly appeared from who knew where. It walked gracefully over to Shi Huai’s feet, tipped up its head, and let out a soft, “Meow.”
“Huh? Where did a cat come from?” Zhao Huan crouched down and reached out to pet it, but the tabby flicked its tail and dodged away, continuing to rub itself against Shi Huai’s boots.
Shi Huai bent down and scooped the cat into his arms. The moment it was held against him, it buried its head in the crook of his arm and began to purr contentedly.
Li Chengze’s gaze fell on the cat, and his brows drew together slightly.
“That’s one of the horses’ cats. It normally won’t let anyone touch it. Quite a surprise that it’s taken to you today.”
“Perhaps it’s because my arms are warm.” Shi Huai stroked the tabby’s head. The cat narrowed its eyes, its tail curling once around his wrist.
The hunt began. The boys rode their horses into the depths of the meadow’s woods, their shouts mingling with the thunder of hooves and sending a flock of birds into the air.
Shi Huai rode at an unhurried pace near the back of the group, the tabby cat still nestled in his arms and refusing to get down.
Xie Zhaolin and Zhao Huan rode on either side of him, like two fiercely loyal guards.
“Shi Huai, hurry up!” Zhao Huan called over his shoulder. A leaf clung to his face, making him look rather comical.
“You two go ahead. I’ll follow slowly.” Shi Huai smiled at him and reached out to pluck the leaf from his face.
The tips of Zhao Huan’s ears turned bright red at once. He whipped his head around and nearly fell off his horse.
Xie Zhaolin watched the scene from the side, the corner of his mouth twitching faintly.
They rode into a dense forest, where sunlight filtered through gaps in the canopy and scattered a carpet of shattered gold across the ground.
Shi Huai slowed down, letting his horse walk at its own pace. The tabby poked its head out from his arms, its round eyes darting about as its whiskers quivered.
Suddenly, a commotion came from the woods ahead.
A wild rabbit shot out of the grass and streaked past Shi Huai’s horse. Zhao Huan’s excited shout followed immediately after.
“After it! Hurry!”
Several of the boys spurred their horses forward in pursuit, the pounding hooves sending fallen leaves flying into the air.
Shi Huai did not follow. He pulled on the reins and stopped where he was. The tabby’s ears stood straight up in his arms, and a low growl rumbled in its throat.
“What’s wrong?”
Xie Zhaolin had turned back at some point. He now sat on his horse beside Shi Huai, his brows slightly furrowed.
“Something’s not right up ahead.” Shi Huai did not explain further. He could sense that something seemed to be waiting for them.
Xie Zhaolin hesitated and was just about to speak when a scream suddenly rang out from ahead.
Shi Huai immediately pressed his heels into the horse’s sides. The horse let out a sharp whinny and charged forward, while Xie Zhaolin’s voice faded farther and farther behind him.
When he reached the clearing, the sight before him made him frown slightly.
Something had frightened Zhao Huan’s horse. It reared up on its hind legs, throwing Zhao Huan to the ground.
Zhao Huan lay clutching his left leg, grimacing in pain. Tears shimmered in his eyes, but he bit his lip and refused to cry out.
“Don’t move.” Shi Huai dismounted, crouched beside him, and reached out to feel along the bones of his leg.
Zhao Huan hissed in pain. Sweat trickled down his cheeks, but he still forced a smile at Shi Huai.
“I’m fine. I only fell. It doesn’t hurt.”
“The bone isn’t broken, but you’ve strained a tendon. You’ll need to rest for a few days.” Shi Huai withdrew his hand, then turned and untied the waterskin from his horse. He handed it to Zhao Huan.
“Have some water and catch your breath. I’ll send someone to find a physician.”
