By early afternoon, all the invited families’ children had arrived for the hunt, each finding flat, windless spots at the foot of the mountain to set up camp.

“Young Miss, I’ve asked Guard Qingxiao for clarification.”

Hutao entered the tent with a basin of clear water, helping Yu Lingxi roll up her sleeves, saying, “The grooms who were supposed to accompany us all had upset stomachs last night, vomiting and having diarrhea, too sick to get up. The steward couldn’t find any other helpers but happened to see that the beggar was skilled with horses, so called him to substitute. He’s only allowed to look after the horses and is forbidden from approaching you for close service, so there shouldn’t be any problem.”

Yu Lingxi soaked her hands in the clear water, but her mind was on another question.

Even though Ning Yin had been neglected with little presence in the palace, he was still once a prince. Among the aristocratic children at this hunt were many imperial relatives—wasn’t he afraid of being recognized?

The more she thought about it, the more she felt Ning Yin’s past was a mystery she had never truly understood.

“Sui Sui, come out quickly! Everyone is ready and preparing to start the hunt,” Tang Buli’s voice came from outside the tent, interrupting Yu Lingxi’s thoughts.

The afternoon sunlight was just right, warming everyone’s pores to open.

Indeed, the young lords and ladies had already gathered at the edge of the forest with fine bows in hand. Those from families concerned with appearances even brought falconers and hunting dogs, creating a lively scene of bird calls and barking.

Yu Lingxi had changed into a crimson Hu-style outfit suitable for riding and archery. Holding a small gold-twisted whip, she came forward at a leisurely pace on the red horse from the Western Regions that her father had acquired at great expense.

The horse was precious, and she was a beauty. In her crimson attire, she was incomparably bright in the sunlight, even more eye-catching than her usual appearance with jade hairpins and green skirts.

At once, the gazes of the young lords turned to her with obvious admiration, probably never expecting that the Yu family’s sickly daughter, raised in seclusion, would be such a stunning beauty.

Xue Cen was the first to ride over, circling her once before reining in his horse, saying gently: “Second Sister, the terrain in the forest is complex. Please stay with the group later, and don’t wander off.”

“Alright.” Yu Lingxi nodded, joining the hunting party alongside him and positioning herself beside Yu Xinyi.

At the sound of the horn, a hundred riders surged over the long slope, racing off in a cloud of dust, startling countless birds from the forest.

The young man’s figure looked somewhat familiar, possibly someone she had seen at a banquet in her previous life.

Yu Lingxi made a mental note and rode forward to ask Tang Buli: “Ah Li, who is that young man at the front with the gold-carved bow?”

Tang Buli shaded her eyes and looked ahead, then responded with an “Oh”: “Prince Ning Zizuo of Nanyang, the current Emperor’s nephew.”

She then narrowed her eyes and lightly tapped Yu Lingxi’s shoulder with her riding crop, whispering mysteriously, “Though the young prince is of imperial blood, he’s just a spoiled young wastrel. Don’t set your sights on him! Stay with your Xue the Second—among all the unmarried aristocratic sons here, only his looks and scholarship match yours…”

As the topic drifted further away, Yu Lingxi cut it short: “I was just asking casually. Where are your thoughts wandering?”

Just then, a familiar female voice came from behind, softly calling: “Cousin Lingxi.”

Yu Lingxi turned to see Zhao Yuming sitting stiffly on horseback.

She unconsciously gripped the reins tighter as memories of her experiences at the Zhao household in her previous life flashed through her mind, finally freezing on Zhao Yuming’s face, slashed into a bloody mess.

Perhaps she should feel resentful.

But when she recalled Zhao Yuming’s cold statement—”Cousin, you must accept your fate”—before she was forced into the sedan chair to the Regent Prince’s manor in her previous life, all her resentment vanished, leaving only endless emptiness.

Yu Lingxi straightened on her horse and responded coolly: “Cousin.”

Behind Zhao Yuming stood a young man with slender eyes and gaunt cheeks, appearing quite effeminate and silent—the adopted son of the Zhao family.

Zhao Yuming was not skilled in riding or archery, riding unfamiliarly and slowly. It took her quite a while to reach Yu Lingxi. Her gaze swept over the pearl flowers in Yu Lingxi’s hair, and she smiled: “Cousin, those pearl hairpins are quite beautiful. May I ask which shop you bought them from?”

Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows in Yu Lingxi’s eyes.

People often said Zhao Yuming resembled her somewhat, but looking now, they didn’t look alike at all.

Zhao Yuming’s features were much weaker and paler, her eyes seemingly covered with mist—delicately charming but lacking brightness.

Yu Lingxi naturally wouldn’t tell the truth, so she casually replied: “It’s last year’s old style, nothing special.”

Zhao Yuming’s smile faltered, her face quickly turning red, then pale.

She lowered her eyes, looking down at her clothes.

Her family background was not as good as Yu Lingxi’s, without a reliable father and brothers to support her, and she was wearing last year’s old clothes.

Cheers from the distance broke the forest’s silence.

Tang Buli’s eyes brightened: “It seems someone has claimed the first prize already, so quickly!”

“Let’s go see.” Yu Lingxi didn’t bother with Zhao Yuming anymore, flicking her whip and riding through the forest.

Yu Xinyi had hunted a male deer, winning the first prize, and had impressively planted the flag bearing the Yu family crest in the forest.

Nearby, the Prince of Nanyang, having lost the competition, sat on his horse with a flushed face, panting heavily, glaring at Yu Xinyi with dissatisfaction.

“I just now realized you were a woman, so I went easy on you. Next time, this prince will show no mercy!”

Ning Zizuo threw an arrow at Yu Xinyi’s feet, proudly declaring war: “Again!”

Yu Xinyi raised an eyebrow and smiled, swinging onto her horse: “Young Prince, if you lose face again later, don’t cry!”

The crowd whooped, and Ning Zizuo, as if humiliated, blushed even more furiously, shouting angrily: “Whoever cries is a dog!”

With that, he flicked his whip and chased after Yu Xinyi, leaving his guards far behind.

The Prince of Nanyang had a childish temperament. Yu Lingxi found it amusing but was certain that he couldn’t be her family’s political enemy.

Tang Buli ordered the stag to be carried back to the camp, and the spectators dispersed to hunt on their own.

The crowd had already run far ahead. Yu Lingxi’s archery skills and stamina were not as good as her sister’s. After circling the forest a few times, she returned to the camp with Tang Buli and the other noble ladies.

The setting sun was lush, and the stream reflected golden, warm light like fish scales.

Yu Lingxi had two gray rabbits hanging from her saddle as she rode toward the simple stables behind the camp.

The horse was tall, and as she hesitated about jumping down and possibly hurting herself, she saw a familiar figure approach, crossing his arms and half-kneeling at the stirrup, making a human step for her.

Ning Yin?

Yu Lingxi was momentarily stunned, standing on the stirrup, neither up nor down.

“I don’t have the habit of stepping on people. Move aside,” she said, her tone gentle but with noticeable displeasure.

Having decided to keep Ning Yin, she needed to gradually correct his degrading habits one by one.

Ning Yin pressed his lips together, obeyed, and stepped back.

Yu Lingxi steadied herself, and stepped down from the stirrup, but still stumbled when landing.

“Careful.”

Ning Yin immediately steadied her, his slender fingers, carrying a slight coolness, firmly gripping her wrist.

Yu Lingxi’s heart tightened, her fingertips instinctively trembling.

Their eyes met. Ning Yin’s eyes were pitch-black and calm, without a trace of control or desire.

Yu Lingxi came to her senses—the young man before her was not the Ning Yin from her previous life.

“Thank you,” she said with relief, moving her wrist.

Ning Yin obediently released her hand, thought for a moment, then looked up and gave Yu Lingxi a generous smile.

The magnificent sunset hung at the horizon, weary birds returned to the forest, and the young man’s smile was like the cleanest spring in the mountains, enough to wash away all gloom.

People say Xue Cen had the elegant bearing of clear skies after rain and the looks of Pan An, but Ning Yin’s smile surpassed even ten Xue Cens.

Ever since that New Year’s Eve night when Yu Lingxi asked Ning Yin to “smile,” every time he saw her, he would show a harmless smile.

As if this could make her happy and make her dislike him less.

Yu Lingxi thought that during his years of hardship, he must have developed exceptional vigilance and sensitivity beyond ordinary people. Otherwise, how could he keenly perceive the resentment and detachment buried deep in Yu Lingxi’s heart, and seize every opportunity to please her?

“Stop forcing yourself to smile in the future,” she said.

Ning Yin showed slight confusion, asking: “Does Young Miss not like it?”

“It’s not that.”

Yu Lingxi also had a faint smile in her eyes, but deliberately pressed her lips together, seriously educating him: “But smiling without reason looks quite foolish.”

She handed the reins to Ning Yin, her tone considerably lighter: “Take good care of the horse for me.”

With that, she swung her small riding crop and walked toward the camp in the light.

At sunset, the drums sounded to end the hunt.

Many birds and beasts were piled on the grassland by the stream. Tang Buli was having people count them, identifying each family’s catch by the clan emblems on the arrows, to select the champion.

After several rounds of counting, the Yu family had the most prey, not just in quantity but also in deer and roe deer, which were rare catches.

The Prince of Nanyang, Ning Zizuo, ranked second, followed by Xue Cen and others.

The least successful was the Zhao family, with only one rabbit and one yellow fox with poor fur.

That night, bonfires were lit in front of the tents. Young men and women gathered in separate circles, roasting meat and sharing the day’s spoils.

Yu Lingxi had a leg of venison cut and distributed to the attendants, then selected some fruits and hot roasted meat, instructing Hutao: “These, separately for Ning…”

She paused, then corrected herself: “Go deliver these to that beggar who tends the horses.”

Just as she finished arranging this, she heard someone among the female companions ask: “Why don’t we see Miss Yuming from the Zhao family?”

The legitimate daughter of Minister Liu from the Ministry of War glanced at Yu Lingxi and, though smiling, said words with hidden thorns: “Who can blame her when someone has stolen all the limelight, hunting all the prey in the forest, leaving no chance for others? How could Miss Zhao dare show her face?”

During the Northern Expedition incident, Yu Lingxi’s father and brother had first suspected Minister Liu of the Ministry of War. Looking at Miss Liu’s attitude now, it was clear the relationship between the two families was indeed strained.

In this hunt, the Yu family was in the spotlight. Yu Lingxi took note of who was admiring them and who was jealous and excluding them.

After all, these young men and women represented the interests of their fathers’ families.

Outside, the bonfire was lively, but Zhao Yuming’s tent was quiet and deserted.

Several shadows passed by the tent, discussing: “I originally thought the Zhao family’s young lady was a beauty, but when she stood next to the Yu family’s young miss today, she looked like a mud figure or stone, losing all color.”

Another laughed: “Isn’t that right! If I were Xue Cen, I would also like the Yu young Miss. That face and figure… tsk tsk!”

Footsteps sounded, and the discussions outside abruptly ceased.

Zhao Yuming looked at the bag of arrows placed on the table. Hearing these words, her fingers tightened inside her sleeve, the sadness in her eyes deepening, on the verge of tears.

Shortly after, Zhao Xu entered with roasted rabbit meat. Seeing Zhao Yuming alone in melancholy, obvious pity flashed in his eyes.

“Eat something, Yuming.”

Zhao Xu tore off a rabbit leg, carefully feeding it to Zhao Yuming’s lips. “Those people talking nonsense, I’ve chased them away.”

Zhao Yuming shook her head: “They’re right. Cousin is such a dazzling, precious young lady, deserving everyone’s affection.”

“I don’t like her,” said Zhao Xu.

Zhao Yuming looked at him, unable to hold back her tears: “What use is your dislike? I don’t have a good father or caring brothers to support me like she does. Wherever I go, people will compare and mock me, making me feel inferior to her.”

“That won’t happen. Tomorrow during the hunt, I will surely win the first prize and bring you honor.”

Seeing his adopted sister’s tears felt like a knife twisting in Zhao Xu’s heart. A dark gleam passed through his eyes. “By then, no one will dare to look down on or mock you anymore.”

…

The waning moon tilted westward, and the bonfire extinguished, leaving only a few sparks crackling upward before instantly disappearing.

Everyone was asleep, and the camp was silent.

The forest was permeated with a chilling cold. A gray falcon cut through the night sky, landing precisely on Ning Yin’s arm.

Just as he retrieved the intelligence, he heard deliberately lightened footsteps from outside the forest.

Ning Yin had excellent hearing and immediately discerned that the sound came from Yu Lingxi’s stable.

He leisurely raised a finger to his lips, signaling the well-trained gray falcon on his arm to stay still. Then he turned, hiding in the shadows behind a tree trunk to observe.

A dark figure stealthily approached the stable, then took out a package of something and poured it into the horse trough, stirred it with a hand, and then hurriedly left.

After the dark figure completely disappeared, Ning Yin raised his arm to release the gray falcon and emerged from behind the tree trunk.

He walked with his hands behind his back to the stable, casually scooped up some fodder, and sniffed it.

His lips curved upward, a very low sneer muffled in his throat, his eyes reflecting a cold light in the moonlight.

It seemed he didn’t need to act; someone was already impatient to set fires.