That person sat upright on his horse, his aloof and distant expression gaining a touch of worldly warmth from a single red plum.

Even more enthusiastic cheers and screams arose from the crowds watching along the roadside.

This time, even more and varied objects were thrown toward him.

Handkerchiefs and silk flowers were ordinary—there was even a young lady who in her excitement threw over a meat flatbread she had just purchased.

Wei Han nimbly dodged certain objects that might cause serious injury. Once this sudden rain passed, he took another bite of the red plum in his hand.

The plum wasn’t large, sweet with a hint of tartness.

Wei Han looked back again toward that carriage with green curtains, only to discover that the young woman who had poked her head out had long since lowered the carriage curtain.

He looked down again at the red plum, feeling slightly puzzled.

Why did Miss Luo throw a plum to him?

Was she worried he was thirsty?

He pondered this, then shook his head slightly.

She shouldn’t be that considerate toward him.

It couldn’t be that she mixed it in with those sachets and handkerchiefs, wanting to give him a bruise on the head, could it?

Or perhaps she was reminding him to look at her?

Wei Han’s thoughts wandered chaotically, only feeling that the bright red plum in his hand was rather sweet.

“Royal Uncle.” A voice rang out.

Wei Han turned his head to look.

Wei Qiang was also riding a horse, wearing a black nomadic outfit embroidered with gold patterns. He pointed at the red plum and smiled. “Does Royal Uncle enjoy eating plums?”

Wei Han lowered his eyes to look at the plum.

He normally didn’t eat much of these things—there seemed to be neither particular fondness nor dislike.

Moreover, whether he liked them or not, why should he tell a nephew with whom he had only ordinary relations?

Not receiving an answer, Wei Qiang said with some teasing, “The young lady who threw the red plum will surely be extremely happy seeing Royal Uncle eat her plum—she might boast about it for the rest of her life.”

For an ordinary young lady, having the renowned Prince Kaiyang eat the plum she threw was indeed worthy of boasting about for a lifetime.

Hearing Wei Qiang say this, Wei Han merely smiled without any intention of discussing it further.

Discussing this red plum seemed like discussing Miss Luo.

He didn’t like that.

Wei Han finished eating the red plum and said flatly, “Your Highness is falling behind. You should catch up.”

Wei Qiang looked at Wei Han for a moment, then spurred his horse.

That red plum just now didn’t seem to have been thrown from among the common people lining the road.

Inside the carriage, Luo Sheng was scolding Hong Dou. “Why are you randomly throwing things?”

Hong Dou blinked. “This servant thought it was fun. You saw so many young ladies throwing things at Prince Kaiyang—I even saw someone throw an embroidered shoe.”

Looking down at the red plums arranged on the small table, Hong Dou looked hesitantly at Luo Sheng. “Miss, do you think throwing the plum was somewhat wasteful?”

The little maidservant reached out to pick up a plum and presented it before Luo Sheng. “You eat a plum to calm your anger. This servant won’t throw things carelessly in the future.”

She would remember—one mustn’t throw food. If you throw food, Miss gets angry.

Luo Sheng lowered her eyes to glance at the red plum. Thinking of how that person had so openly eaten the plum, how could she possibly eat one now?

“Put it down.”

A hand reached out and took the plum.

Luo Sheng looked toward Luo Chen.

The youth held the red plum in his hand, his expression somewhat serious. “Prince Kaiyang must think Sister threw the plum, which is why he caught it and ate it.”

This was clearly taking advantage of Luo Sheng.

“What are you trying to say?” Luo Sheng smiled slightly, her composure restored.

Forget it—it was just a plum, it didn’t mean anything.

Previously, Miss Luo had pulled off Prince Kaiyang’s belt and nothing came of it. Just because of a red plum, must she now take responsibility for that man?

Taking responsibility was impossible.

Luo Chen looked at Luo Sheng. Seeing her cold and indifferent expression, he frowned slightly. “Sister, are you still thinking about Su Yao?”

If that were the case, it would seem even worse.

Hearing Luo Chen mention the name “Su Yao,” Luo Sheng froze briefly.

Jinsha and the capital seemed like two different worlds—she had almost forgotten this person.

Seeing Luo Sheng’s dazed expression, Luo Chen misunderstood and said coldly, “Su Yao is not even as good as Prince Kaiyang.”

Seeing Luo Chen like this, Luo Sheng’s interest was piqued instead. She asked with studied nonchalance, “Why do you say so? Su Yao is gentle as jade and handsome besides—how is he inferior to Prince Kaiyang?”

Luo Chen sneered. “Sheng Jialan harmed you because of Su Yao. In Jinsha County, there was a Scholar Qian whose daughter hanged herself rather than marry—they say it was also because of Su Yao. If Su Yao was involved in these two matters, it shows he has the face of a human but the heart of a beast. If he wasn’t involved in these matters, it shows he’s simply a harbinger of misfortune. Shouldn’t you stay far away from such a person instead of getting closer?”

Having said this, the youth bit fiercely into the bright red plum and said irritably, “If you really must choose one, it should be Prince Kaiyang.”

Though Prince Kaiyang wasn’t much either, he was still far better than Su Yao.

“Why are you pondering such matters at your young age? Once we reach our destination, I’ll teach you archery. Try to hunt a badger—then we can roast badger meat to eat.” Luo Sheng spoke calmly, though inwardly she was startled by Luo Chen’s perceptiveness.

At the mention of hunting a badger, the youth snorted coldly and ate his plum with his head down.

Just because he heard that dark-skinned fellow brag about hunting badger—what was so impressive about that?

He didn’t need to hunt to have some to eat.

Seeing the youth finally quiet down, Luo Sheng breathed a slight sigh of relief and leaned against the carriage wall to rest with eyes closed.

A crunching sound reached her ears, like a squirrel gnawing on food.

Luo Sheng opened her eyes to see Hong Dou holding a plum and eating it with great relish.

Seeing Luo Sheng open her eyes, the little maidservant quickly asked, “Would Miss like some?”

“Are the plums really that delicious?” Luo Sheng frowned.

She didn’t recall depriving them of food, yet they insisted on eating plums at this moment to disturb her peace.

Hong Dou smiled with pursed lips. “This servant saw Prince Kaiyang eating so enthusiastically and thought this plate of plums must be quite sweet. Miss, are you sure you won’t try one?”

The corners of Luo Sheng’s mouth twitched slightly as she closed her eyes again.

The hunting grounds were in the North River territory, not far from the capital. If riding hard, one could arrive in a single day.

Such a procession naturally couldn’t move quickly, and overnight stays were inevitable along the way.

Lodging arrangements need not be worried about—local government offices and postal stations along the route had everything prepared. But the timing of rest stops and meals wouldn’t always align perfectly with reaching suitable locations.

At noon the next day, the procession made camp in the wilderness to prepare the midday meal.

A row of over a dozen large pots was set up—these were for providing meals to the nobility, officials, and their families. Separate stoves were also erected, surrounded by several imperial chefs—these naturally were the special provisions for His Majesty, the Crown Prince, and others.

As for how the large pot meals tasted, those who ate them would know.

Grand Marshal Luo wandered about until he drifted over to Luo Sheng’s area. Before even approaching, he caught a faint, lingering sour aroma.

What dish were they making?

Unfortunately, people had gathered in a circle, obscuring the scene within.

Grand Marshal Luo strode over quickly and coughed.

The first to notice his approach was Luo Qing.

“Father.”

Hearing this greeting, the surrounding crowd finally turned to bow in respect.

Grand Marshal Luo paid no heed to such superfluities—his eyes were practically glued to that suspended iron pot.

Broth bubbled and rolled in the pot, the mouth-watering faint sour aroma emanating from it.

“Yellow pepper paste.” Luo Sheng gave a calm instruction.

Hong Dou brought before Luo Sheng a crude earthenware jar with its lid removed.

Luo Sheng scooped out a spoonful of finely minced yellow pepper paste and dropped it into the pot, only then wiping her hands before greeting Grand Marshal Luo.

“Why has Father come?”