Chapter 38: C38. Stepping Outside, To The Woodlands.

Chapter 38

In the wilds of Nanyuan, a land teeming with rare and exotic creatures, the air practically hums with anticipation. This is where hunters chase legends—birds and beasts unlike any other, including the coveted and ghost-like white fox. When the Emperor takes to the hunt, the prey isn’t simply sought; it’s deliberately unleashed into the sprawling grounds, adding an electrifying thrill to the chase.

The white fox, sleek and sharp-eyed, is no ordinary quarry. Its cunning and elusiveness make it a prized challenge, but its snow-colored coat elevates the stakes even higher. To capture such a creature isn’t just a victory—it’s a statement of dominance, a title of leader among the hunters.

With Emperor Yuan Qing preoccupied by years of grueling border wars, leisure hunts in Nanyuan have become rare, stirring a fervent excitement among the ambitious young military attachés. This year’s competition promises more than sport; it’s a battlefield for prestige. At the forefront of this pack are three names whispered with equal measures of respect and rivalry: Li Yao, Cao Shao, and Xie Lang.

As the hunt loomed, Xie Lang’s cocky grin and teasing tone set the mood. "I may not best you both on the battlefield," he quipped, "but hunting takes more than skill—it takes luck. If I snag the white fox, drinks at Zuixianju are on me."

Li Yao fired back with a sly smirk. "Luck or not, even if you fail, count me in for those drinks. You’ll need them after losing."

Their playful banter echoed through the air, yet Cao Shao remained a silent figure, his attention drifting elsewhere. Eyes sharp and calculating, he focused on the women’s section, charting his own path with deliberate purpose. To him, the Emperor’s approval meant little compared to the presence of Yunzhu, watching the competition unfold. Losing was not an option.

The drums thundered, their cadence marking the start of the hunt. Across the vast expanse of rolling grasslands, thick woods, and treacherous hills, the participants scattered like shadows, disappearing from view, leaving the spectators behind to wait—and to wonder.

The palace, of course, spared no effort in easing that wait. Tables brimmed with ripe fruits and fine wine, while singers and dancers performed to charm the restless crowd. Amid this opulence, Yunzhu reclined gracefully, nibbling on fruit, her laughter a melody of its own as she spoke with her mother and the Duke Qi’s wife. For her, the beauty of Nanyuan’s scenery was intoxicating enough.

Madam Duke Qi, the mother of Sun Yurong, cast a wistful glance at Meng Shi and sighed, envy lacing her words. "Brother Yao is remarkable—his talent in martial arts is unparalleled, and his marksmanship is something out of legend. If fate grants him the battlefield, he could rival even the great Duke Ningguo. And your second son, so composed despite his youth. With two extraordinary sons and a daughter like Yunzhu, who is poised to marry well, what could you possibly worry about? Unlike me, with a son who lacks ambition and a daughter whose prospects are… uncertain."

Meng Shi, ever poised but no stranger to veiled barbs, offered a delicate smile that hinted at her own burdens. "As mothers, we all carry our worries, don’t we? You praise Yao, but you don’t know the half of it. I fret endlessly about his marriage. The year is nearly over, and still, not a word of a suitable match."

Madam Duke Qi’s mind whirred behind her practiced expression. So, Yu Rong isn’t on their radar? Pity… but perhaps there’s still time. Out loud, she soothed, "Don’t fret, my dear. Once Yao returns victorious and cements his standing, the ladies will notice. Back in the city, we’ll make sure a matchmaker brings the perfect proposal to your door."

Meng Shi’s lips curved in a measured response. "Let us hope so."

Yunzhu’s heart pounded with restless excitement, her mind fixated on her brother’s inevitable victory. An hour had melted away in what felt like seconds, yet no news of the white fox surfaced. Surely, someone had cornered the elusive creature by now?

As the sun climbed higher, bathing the hunting grounds in its golden heat, Yunzhu’s interest in the game began to flicker and fade.

Deep within the dense forest, the sharp clatter of hooves shattered the quiet, sending the white fox into high alert. Several military attachés had already dismounted, their eyes sharp and predatory, eager to claim the prize.

Li Yao, towering and commanding, stalked through the trees with deliberate precision. His gaze locked onto the white fox, which hunched cautiously behind a tree, greedily tearing into the flesh of a pheasant.

The palace attendants, cunning and ruthless, had starved the fox for days, ensuring its desperation would outweigh its instincts. The lure of food was too seductive, even when danger loomed nearby.

Li Yao had chosen his position well, the perfect angle for a clean shot. His bow was taut, his arrow poised to strike. But just as the white fox stepped into range, light, rapid footsteps rustled behind him.

He stiffened and turned. Cao Shao.

Li Yao’s glare was a silent warning, sharp and unforgiving. Leave.

Cao Shao responded with an infuriatingly soft smile, his movements swift and fluid. In mere moments, he was at Li Yao’s side.

With a firm grip on Cao Shao’s arm, Li Yao growled, “Take another step, and I’ll break your damn leg.”

Cao Shao lowered his gaze, feigning submission. “Eldest brother, hit me if you must. I won’t fight back.”

Li Yao’s jaw clenched, his voice dripping with venom. “Don’t call me that. You’ve no right.”

Releasing him with a sharp shove, Li Yao turned his focus back to the fox. Yet, in the blink of an eye, Cao Shao was ahead of him again, his movements bold and defiant.

Frustration boiled over. Snarling, Li Yao yanked an arrow from his quiver and drove it forward, the tip biting into Cao Shao’s shoulder. Blood bloomed through his robe as he stopped, turned, and locked eyes with Li Yao.

The coldness in Li Yao’s gaze was unwavering, his message clear: I won’t hesitate to hurt you again.

But Cao Shao didn’t flinch. With a chilling calm, he ripped the arrow from his flesh, his expression unreadable, and pressed forward. He didn’t care about the risk, didn’t fear the possibility of another strike.

Li Yao froze, his composure cracking. What the hell was Shao’s game? This wasn’t just about some damn hunting competition for royal favor. This was personal.

But why?

Why was Shao so hellbent on claiming the white fox, even at the cost of his own blood?

Cao Shao halted abruptly, his bowstring taut, and released an arrow that sliced mercilessly through the air toward the white fox. The sharp whistle of the arrow shattered the stillness, startling the fox mid-chew. It bolted east, a desperate flash of white against the autumn landscape, but it wasn’t fast enough.

Cao Shao’s arrow found its mark, piercing the soft flesh of the fox's neck. The animal stumbled, its elegant frame crumpling to the ground in a lifeless heap. His eyes gleamed with a heady mix of triumph and adrenaline as he strode forward, claiming his prize: the snow-white fox, its breathing shallow, its blood painting the ground in vivid crimson.

The scarlet stain mirrored the blood drying on Cao Shao’s own shoulder, soaking into the pristine white of his hunting garb. Yet, his wound was under control. The bleeding had stopped, and the fabric bore no new marks of the earlier injury.

"Thank you for holding back, elder brother," Cao Shao said, his voice edged with both gratitude and veiled challenge. He turned and saluted Li Yao, who stood across from him, his expression an impassive mask.

Cao Shao understood perfectly. If Li Yao had wanted to sabotage his hunt, he could’ve made a single sound at the wrong moment, scattering the fox into the wilderness and robbing Cao Shao of his chance.

After all, there are men who operate by a cruel philosophy: If I can’t have it, neither can you. But Li Yao, for all his quiet authority, wasn’t so petty.

The fox had been within everyone’s sights earlier, sparking a mad chase, and Cao Shao knew opportunities like this didn’t come twice. As Li Yao turned sharply on his heel and walked away, his expression cool, a silent question lingered: What would be the point?

After all, Cao Shao wasn’t just a rival but the boy who used to follow Li Yao’s sister around, shamelessly tagging along and calling him “elder brother.” Was a white fox worth killing him over? No, Li Yao decided, he wasn’t that kind of man.

Moments later, the hunting grounds erupted into stunned silence. Every head turned as a lone rider emerged at the edge of the field, cutting a figure so striking it seemed almost unreal.

Cao Shao, resplendent in white brocade, rode his horse with effortless grace. His garments shimmered under the golden autumn sun, catching the light like fire in motion. The reins hung loosely in his left hand while his right held the prize of the day—a magnificent white fox, its thick, snowy tail draping elegantly over his arm.

Bathed in that golden glow, Cao Shao looked like a vision of triumph. The stillness of the scene—his calm demeanor, the subdued splendor of the moment—was utterly breathtaking.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Noble ladies and commoners alike stared, captivated. Even Yunzhu, who prided herself on her composure, found herself transfixed.

There was something undeniable about the first-place hunter: the aura of victory, the magnetism of his striking looks, and the noble bearing that set him apart from the rest. Cao Shao wasn’t merely handsome—he was unforgettable.

Yunzhu’s lips tightened slightly, a mix of emotions flickering in her eyes. Then, for one fleeting second, Cao Shao’s gaze found hers.

In that moment, unspoken understanding passed between them, sharp and vivid as the arrow that had claimed the fox.

He had fought tooth and nail to make sure she was the one in charge this time. It didn’t matter how blinding the spotlight was—he wanted her eyes on him, her approval, her attention. She was the only one who mattered, married or not. His desire for her simmered beneath the surface, relentless and undeniable.

Yunzhu’s lips curved into a sly, knowing smile, barely restrained. There was a wicked satisfaction in watching him chase her shadow. She schooled her expression quickly, masking her amusement with an air of polite congratulation, pretending to be gracious to her old rival.

"Pity that Huaibei’s a civil servant," one of the pavilion elders mused, stroking his beard as his gaze lingered on Cao Shao with approval. "If he were a martial artist, he’d be off conquering the Hu capital with Fushan."

Cao Xun, ever the picture of modesty, bowed his head slightly. "Lao Ge, your praise is far too kind. I am deeply honored."

But even as he responded to the elder, his attention flicked across the platform to the young woman opposite him, his gaze lingering just a moment too long.

*

After the hunt, the feast was nothing short of indulgent decadence—a lavish display of social charm and subtle gamesmanship. The banquet buzzed with layered conversations and lingering glances, a playground for veiled intentions and unsaid words.

When the final cup was drained and the chatter began to fade, Yunzhu felt a wave of exhaustion take over. Retreating to the intimacy of her courtyard, she cleansed away the remnants of the day and slipped between the sheets of her bed, allowing herself the luxury of rest.

By the time her eyes fluttered open, dusk had already claimed the sky. Just as she stretched languidly, savoring the quiet moment, the hall beyond her room stirred with voices. Cao Shao’s sharp, yet slightly guilty tone broke through the stillness.

"Brother, I’m uneasy," he began. "I unintentionally got in someone’s way during archery. They pulled back in time, so I only ended up with a minor injury, but it could have been worse."

Cao Xun’s voice followed, calm but probing. "And who was it, exactly? If it wasn’t intentional, there’s no harm in telling me."

Cao Shao hesitated, his reluctance obvious. "You won’t believe me. Worse, you might stir up trouble on my behalf."

A chuckle escaped Cao Xun. "You think I’m that petty? Go on, tell me."

But Cao Shao deflected with a helpless sigh. "Let’s just leave it. It’s not worth mentioning."

After a moment of tense silence, Cao Xun relented. "Fine, keep your secrets. Just stay aware of your surroundings next time. I’ll have the kitchen prepare a meal for you. We’ll eat together."

"But—"

"No buts. It’s just me, my brother, and your sister-in-law. What’s there to worry about?" Cao Xun’s tone left no room for argument.

Cao Shao fell silent, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

The brothers let the topic drop, veering into casual chatter that filled the hall until the sound of a golden bell echoed through the air.

Outside the hall, Lian Qiao and Shiliu had been waiting patiently. At the summons, they sought permission from the Duke and entered to assist their lady. Cao Shao, seated nearby, kept his eyes downcast, his fingers tightening briefly around his teacup.

Cao Xun, ever perceptive, broke into a knowing smile. "Second Brother, you’re not letting this rest time go to waste, I see."

Cao Shao set his cup down hurriedly, his demeanor polite but uneasy. "I’m the one intruding and causing trouble. Perhaps I should leave? My colleagues are likely waiting for me to return before they dine."

"Unnecessary," Cao Xun dismissed with a wave. "Send word to them instead."

Cao Shao’s jaw tightened as he fought to maintain composure. The desire to linger—to see her—warred with the ever-present threat of discovery. He was caught between fire and ice, each moment stretching his restraint thin.

Two quarters of an hour passed before Yunzhu finally emerged. Draped in elegance, she stepped through the side chamber, her presence commanding yet effortlessly graceful.

Cao Shao stood abruptly, lowering his eyes in a gesture of respect. "Sister-in-law," he greeted, his voice steady despite the storm beneath.

Yunzhu arched a brow in surprise, her gaze brushing over him. "Second Brother, you’re here?"

Before the tension could grow, Cao Xun interjected smoothly. "He was injured at the hunting grounds. I wanted to hear the details."

Cao Shao quickly reassured them, his words rushing to defuse the moment. "It’s nothing, truly. The medicine has already been applied. No need for concern, Brother, Sister-in-law."

But the undercurrent of his gaze betrayed him—a fleeting crack in his armor, a whisper of something forbidden and dangerously alive.

Yunzhu didn’t bother overthinking it. Hunger gnawed at her, and with no pressing issues between the brothers, she confidently told Lian Qiao to bring in the food.

For the first time, the three of them sat down to share a meal without Pan Shi looming over them.

She knew Cao Xun couldn’t care less about her past with Cao Shao. He also knew she had long since severed any feelings for his brother. So, why should she feel the slightest guilt? Watching Cao Shao squirm, awkwardly trying to act unbothered while avoiding her gaze, was almost too entertaining.

When Cao Shao finally excused himself, Yunzhu turned to Cao Xun, cutting straight to the point. “Do you really think someone tried to hurt him with that so-called injury?”

Cao Xun’s response was sharp and dry. “If someone wanted to kill him but only managed a scratch, they’d have to be embarrassingly incompetent.”

Yunzhu smirked knowingly. “Ah, so you’re playing the good brother act again.”

Cao Xun’s easy smile matched his tone. “Call it being a good husband, too, while I’m at it.”

Her eyebrow arched, a silent challenge.

Unfazed, Cao Xun’s gaze held hers, soft but unwavering. “You didn’t see much at the hunting ground,” he said, his voice laced with suggestion. “I thought I’d bring him closer so you could have a better look.”

———TN:

Oh, a mature way to show your jealousy Cao Xun