Xie Yuzhang, accompanied by her maids and guards, joined the procession. The formation stretched endlessly in every direction. This was the new dynasty’s first summer hunt, and the sons of noble houses were all in high spirits. When they turned and caught sight of the incomparably beautiful Princess Yongning, their excitement surged even higher. The people of the Central Plains, however, lacked the passionate boldness of the grassland folk — they would not shout or sing. At most, they offered a polite inquiry: “Will Your Highness be joining us as well?”

Xie Yuzhang smiled and replied, “Indeed! My hands have been itching for this.”

Others offered admiring remarks: “Your Highness’s horse is magnificent.”

Xie Yuzhang answered, “It is a Mobei horse.”

Mobei horses were renowned throughout the land. Among the horses of the Central Plains, only the Hexi breed could rival them. Everyone marveled with admiration and envy.

The assembly horn sounded, and the formation made a slight adjustment.

Given her high standing, Xie Yuzhang rode forward to take her place in the front rank. Her maids and guards fell in behind her, forming their own cohort. The other households did the same, each bringing their own retinue.

This was the ceremony by which the Emperor displayed his martial authority — and also the opportunity for the sons of noble families to distinguish themselves before him. The young men of every household had chosen their attire with great care. They could not appear too plain, yet neither could they be too gaudy — after observing the Emperor over the past several years, it had become clear that he had little regard for overly extravagant or flashy dress.

Thus, as Li Gu swept his gaze across the vast, densely packed procession, his eyes immediately fell upon Xie Yuzhang, whose garments shone with a brilliance that set her apart from everyone else — radiant atop her horse.

Li Gu had known long in advance that she would participate. A large-scale imperial hunt of this kind involved many protocols: it required not only individual skill, but coordinated teamwork among the entire formation. All participants had to register well ahead of time.

Xie Yuzhang had been assigned to the left flank. She was near him.

The horn sounded again.

Hu Jin said, “Your Majesty, the hour has come.”

Everyone’s gaze turned to him.

Li Gu raised his riding crop. “Today — not a single bow drawn in vain, not a single arrow loosed without purpose. Let us rejoice together!”

He brought the crop down. The instant the hooves struck the earth, the men let out a great roar.

Xie Yuzhang, riding in the midst of the formation, felt in an instant the blood heat up in those around her. She cracked her whip, and the prized Mobei horse she had brought back from the grasslands surged forward with the procession.

The thundering of hooves rolled like drums, overlapping with the cries of men.

Because this was an imperial hunting ground, commoners were forbidden from hunting here privately. Yet for the past few years, no member of the imperial family had come to hunt, and the animals — great and small alike — had multiplied into thriving abundance. Now the ground teemed with them.

When the procession had assembled, herds of wild sheep and elk had been watching from the meadow with curious eyes. As the hooves began to thunder, these creatures were startled and broke into a wild, fleeing gallop.

The human formation gave chase without relenting, trailing great billows of dust.

Li Gu let out a sharp whistle. His personal guards, even at full gallop, shifted their formation fluidly. Within moments, Li Gu’s horse had drawn alongside Xie Yuzhang.

“Can you keep up?” he called out.

At this speed, one could only shout. Xie Yuzhang shouted back, “I can! Your Majesty, don’t worry about me!”

Li Gu observed how she handled her reins and knew immediately that her horsemanship was exceptional — on par with even his own personal guards. Her maids and escorts were no less capable, having been trained and tested on the grasslands.

Reassured, Li Gu was satisfied.

With a few shifts of his horse’s position, he returned to the front of the formation. His personal guards surrounded him on all sides, and these movements were completed entirely within the encirclement of the imperial escort. Those behind, even when looking forward, could not make much out clearly — for in a charge of this magnitude, people did not fix their eyes on any particular individual, but followed the banners.

Xie Yuzhang, too, watched the banners and followed the standard of the left flank.

Yet the position she had been assigned placed her close to Li Gu. When she lifted her gaze, she could see his silhouette in the distance.

Li Gu had forged his path to this day through iron and blood, and his bearing in the saddle was fierce and powerful. The imperial personal guards were all elite soldiers drawn from the Flying Tiger Army. Their formation was impenetrable — even an iron lance mounted on a carriage could not break through it.

The sight filled Xie Yuzhang with a sense of strength.

The wild sheep and elk, fleeing for their lives, were no match for the Hexi warhorses.

Xie Yuzhang looked up and saw Li Gu draw and nock his arrow at full gallop. The shaft flew like a shooting star, and an elk collapsed the moment it struck.

A thunderous roar erupted from the guards.

Those who had fallen were left to the riders behind. The galloping formation pressed on without pause. Li Gu led the procession onward, churning up clouds of dust as they continued to pursue the fleeing herd of deer.

The Emperor had loosed his first arrow, and it had not been wasted — he had drawn first blood. The sons of the noble houses excitedly reached for their bows, all eager to prove themselves.

Xie Yuzhang did not move. She kept her eyes fixed on Li Gu’s silhouette ahead.

Li Gu drew his second arrow. A second quarry tumbled to the ground and lay still. The crowd erupted in cheers.

Li Gu loosed his third arrow. Yet another quarry fell dead on the spot. All three arrows had found their mark.

The shouting shook the air, and the noble sons at last began drawing their own bows.

Xie Yuzhang still did not move. Her eyes remained fixed on Li Gu’s silhouette in the distance ahead — the broad back, the lean waist, powerful and fierce.

He was not far from her, slightly ahead and to her right. At this distance, she could see him with perfect clarity.

What a fine distance this was, Xie Yuzhang thought. If this distance between them could be maintained forever, it would be everything she could ask for.

Just as that thought flickered through her mind, Li Gu turned to look back at her. Their gazes collided for a single instant. Seeing that she was keeping pace well, he seemed to smile at her — and then turned back ahead.

Xie Yuzhang’s heart abruptly began to pound like a drum.

She exhaled a slow breath, unstrung her bow, nocked an arrow, and drew…

The ministers and the noble ladies who had accompanied the imperial party waited in the camp for an entire day. The hunting formation had set out at dawn and only returned in the afternoon. The carts laden with prey were piled high, still dripping with blood.

The Emperor, in a rare display, let a sense of ease show between his brows.

The noble sons wore expressions of proud satisfaction on their faces as well — the harvest had evidently been a fine one.

Everyone returned first to wash and change, then assembled before the Emperor. The quarry had already been tallied. Each family’s arrows bore their own distinguishing marks, so no household’s kills could be mistaken for another’s. What surprised many was that Princess Yongning, Xie Yuzhang, had brought down a considerable number of quarry herself. Many had assumed she was simply along for the spectacle.

Xie Yuzhang smiled and offered her explanation: “On the grasslands, hunting has always been used as a form of military training.”

The noble ladies murmured quietly among themselves: “Her riding attire is truly stunning.”

“I’ve already had my family’s tailor copy the style — I’m wearing it tomorrow.”

“Ha, I’ve had mine copied as well.”

For a formal imperial hunt, the allocation of quarry and the bestowing of rewards followed strict customs and procedures. Once the assessment was completed, the prizes were awarded.

The top three had the honor of being summoned before the Emperor in person, where they received his praise and encouragement by his own mouth. They were granted sinecure titles that gave them official standing.

Beyond that, they were presented with treasured blades. These were no ordinary weapons — they had been forged from the three hundred jin of meteorite iron that Princess Yongning had presented to the Emperor upon her return to court, which had been made into exactly one hundred exceptional blades, each matchlessly sharp. This was a distinction of the highest order, and it filled the recipients with exhilaration.

Today’s hunt had been quite different from those of the former Zhao dynasty. Gone was the practice of having servants secretly drive weak and harmless animals toward the Emperor for him to shoot at leisure. Instead, the Emperor himself had led them all in a genuine pursuit of wild quarry.

Everyone knew that the Emperor had won his throne from horseback, that he had conquered the realm in the saddle — yet this was the first time any of them had experienced it up close.

And that experience was more profound than anything else could have been.

The purpose of this hunt — to proclaim martial might — had been accomplished in full.

From the second day onward, the households were free to hunt at their leisure.

Li Gu, too, had been cooped up in Yunjing for too long. Though he had occasionally gone out to hunt on a small scale beyond the city walls with Hu Jin and Li Weifeng, it could not compare to the freedom of this place. He set out early and did not return until dusk.

The ladies of the noble households also changed into their riding clothes, mounted their horses, and went out with their escorts — some in groups, others accompanied by their fathers, brothers, or husbands. Yet the riding attire throughout Yunjing had already changed entirely — at a glance, it was plain to see that every style had been remade in the cut that Xie Yuzhang habitually wore.

On the third day, Deng Wanniang said to Xie Yuzhang, “Our Emperor attracts admiration wherever he goes.”

Xie Yuzhang laughed in spite of herself.

The Emperor was young and handsome, and his fierce, powerful bearing on horseback while hunting had set many a noble lady’s heart racing. There were always a few bold souls eager to engineer a chance encounter. Since they had failed to persuade the Emperor at court to hold selection ceremonies for imperial consorts, some were now looking to force an opening through private means.

“One who had twisted her ankle — the Emperor was quite generous about it,” Deng Wanniang said. “There were carts following behind to haul away the quarry, all of them bloodstained, and he simply gave one of them over for her to ride in. And then there was another one — soft and delicate — who claimed she had always been devout and could not bear the sight of blood, and who pleaded with the Emperor to spare an injured elk. The Emperor told her: if that is the case, her household need not come next year. He had them strike her family from the list on the spot.”

The woman’s father and brothers must have been absolutely furious, and Li Gu really was something else. The two of them burst out laughing.

On the fourth day, Xie Yuzhang took her personal retinue out to hunt.

She played to her heart’s content, and could not help but feel a pang of regret. “I so wish I could bring Jia You here to see this.”

But Jia You would obviously never appear at a gathering like this. An idea began to form in Xie Yuzhang’s mind — she would quietly ask Li Gu for a favor later, to secretly bring Jia You to the imperial hunting grounds for a private hunt.

She was still turning that thought over when her guards suddenly let out a shout: “Wolves! There are wolves!”

A wolf — here! Xie Yuzhang’s excitement flared at once.

During the era of the former Zhao, the Emperor had come to these grounds every year for either a summer or autumn hunt. The areas closest to the detached palace had been long since cleared of predators, and were largely stocked with sheep, deer, pheasants, and the like that were kept and bred for the purpose. But ever since Lin Xiupu had laid siege to the city, no emperor had come here to hunt in years, and in that time the animals on these grounds had flourished to an unprecedented degree — and now, it seemed, wolves had appeared.

This wolf, however, was not part of a pack. It was a lone wolf that had wandered here from some unknown place.

Xie Yuzhang cried out, “Give chase! Today we are bringing back a wolf pelt!”

Her people had all grown accustomed to hunting on the Mobei grasslands, where hunting had long been used as military training. Even her maids showed not the slightest fear — every one of them lit up with excitement. Following Xie Yuzhang’s lead, they spurred their horses and set off in pursuit of the wolf.

Wolves were always cunning creatures, and even in running they did not travel in straight lines. Xie Yuzhang loosed several arrows, but all of them missed.

She gave chase, and before long a mountain range appeared ahead. Xie Yuzhang called out, “Don’t let it reach the mountains — once it hides itself in there, it will be impossible to find!”

Her guards pushed their speed to cut off the wolf’s path. Xie Yuzhang drew her bow and loosed another arrow. This time, the wolf was struck. It tumbled and rolled to the ground, then struggled upright again and tried to flee.

But it was bleeding. There was only so far it could run. At last, Xie Yuzhang’s arrow brought it down, and it lay motionless on the ground.

Xie Yuzhang was delighted. “Skin it. I’ll have the pelt made into a fur mat for Jia You — something to lay on his couch in the winter.”

She urged her horse forward and was swinging her leg to dismount when the “dead” wolf suddenly launched itself into the air in a final, desperate attack.

Xie Yuzhang’s foot had just touched the ground. Her reflexes were quick — she immediately dropped into a crouch and rolled clear across the ground. By the time she was helped back to her feet, the wolf had already been hacked to death by her guards.

But her horse had been bitten through the neck. Blood was pulsing out in surges, and it was plain to see that the animal would not survive.

At that very moment, the sound of thundering hooves rose in the distance, and a column of several dozen riders came galloping toward them. They pulled up sharply. “What has happened here?”

At full gallop, then a dead stop — all dozens of horses moving as one. The precision of their horsemanship was extraordinary.

The one at the head of the column was none other than the Emperor, Li Gu. He swung down from his horse and strode directly to Xie Yuzhang. “Are you hurt?”

Xie Yuzhang said, “I’m fine. The wolf played dead — it nearly caught me.”

Then, with evident annoyance, she added: “The pelt’s been hacked to pieces now. And I had wanted to make it into a fur mat.”

Seeing that she was truly unharmed, Li Gu breathed a quiet sigh of relief and said with a smile, “There are plenty of pelts to be had. I’ll have one sent to you.”

Xie Yuzhang sighed. “My horse won’t make it. Let it go quickly — spare it the suffering.”

Li Gu drew his blade and went to give the horse a swift end. He then had his own horse brought forward, and held the reins out to her. “Ride mine.”

Xie Yuzhang mounted and assumed that they would all return together — but to her surprise, Li Gu turned to Hu Jin and said, “Hold this position. Don’t let anyone else come through.”

Hu Jin responded with a face of complete solemnity.

Li Gu swung up into the saddle and settled in behind Xie Yuzhang.

Xie Yuzhang stiffened, and reached down to cover his hand. “Your Majesty?”

Everyone present was either his person or hers — none of them were outsiders. At that moment, they were all suddenly absorbed elsewhere: some studied the sky, some examined the ground, some appeared fascinated by the open air.

Li Gu said, “There is no one in the mountain. We’ve just come from there — not a soul.”

“Yuzhang,” he murmured close to the back of her ear, “just let me have my way this once.”

His warm breath fell against her ear. His chest was pressed flush against her back, and at her lower back she could feel the coiled strength of his abdomen.

So this day had come after all.

Xie Yuzhang lowered her head slightly. After a long silence, she said quietly, “…Alright.”