“Fifth Brother seems particularly refreshed today,” a teasing voice rang out. “Look at that barely concealed smile—tsk, tsk… your lips are practically curling up to your ears.”
Within the imperial hunting grounds outside the capital, guards stood in tight formation on all sides.
At the center of the field, mounted upon a tall, spirited steed, rode a young nobleman—valiant and imposing. A dark crimson fox-fur cloak snapped sharply in the wind, its hem billowing with authority.
He wore a golden crown, his hair bound with a jade clasp, his posture straight as a spear.
This youth was none other than the Eighth Prince—Feng Xuanzhen, newly granted the title Prince Yu upon reaching sixteen.
Spurring his horse forward, Feng Xuanzhen smiled with an unmistakably suggestive glint.
“I’ve heard Fifth Brother recently acquired a new beauty—one he dotes on excessively. I thought it mere gossip, exaggerated as rumors tend to be… but seeing you now, it seems there’s truth to it after all.”
He paused, as if pondering seriously.
“What was the name again?”
The Fifth Prince—Feng Xuanyi, Prince Rong—remained utterly composed.
That ever-present half-smile lingered on his lips, calm and unruffled.
“If you’re interested,” he replied lightly, “I can give him to you.”
Yet for reasons he could not explain, an image suddenly surfaced in his mind—
That ink-smeared face he had glimpsed earlier in the Library Chamber—
Like a mischievous little cat.
Yes… those bright, lively eyes were indeed very much like a cat’s.
A trace of indulgent amusement curved his lips—
Though it was quickly concealed beneath his usual inscrutable smile.
Feng Xuanzhen waved his hands hastily.
“I’ll pass! A gentleman does not take what another favors. How could I steal what Fifth Brother cherishes? Besides…” He coughed awkwardly. “As for such… tastes—I truly have no skill in that regard. I’m not blessed enough to enjoy it, not blessed at all.”
Feng Xuanyi clicked his tongue dramatically, as though deeply regretful.
“What a waste of such a fine physique…”
He even reached out and patted Feng Xuanzhen’s well-built frame, far sturdier than that of most sixteen-year-olds.
“You know nothing. The pleasures of it—unless personally experienced—are beyond imagination. Not inferior to soft jade and warm fragrance… perhaps even more exhilarating, in certain aspects.”
Feng Xuanzhen’s face darkened with embarrassment.
One hand tightened on the reins, the other rubbed his nose awkwardly.
“Fifth Brother, don’t make fun of me… I—I’ve only just turned sixteen and left the palace to be enfeoffed… these matters…”
His honey-toned face flushed red.
Everyone knew—
The imperial palace might appear resplendent and noble on the surface—
But within, it was rife with filth, corruption, and indulgence.
And yet, despite growing up in such an environment for sixteen years—
Despite witnessing endless schemes of jealousy and favor—
Despite holding the lofty title of a prince—
Feng Xuanzhen remained, quite astonishingly…
Utterly inexperienced.
Feng Xuanyi’s smile grew even more mischievous.
“Oh? You’re allowed to tease me, but I can’t return the favor?”
Though not born of the same mother, the Fifth and Eighth Princes had been especially close since childhood.
By the laws of the Hua Dynasty, princes came of age at sixteen, at which point they were granted titles and allowed to leave the palace.
And so, on this very morning, newly enfeoffed, Feng Xuanzhen had eagerly invited Feng Xuanyi out to celebrate.
“His Majesty has ordered you to accompany Marquis Dingbei, General Nalan, on the western campaign,” Feng Xuanyi said at last, his tone turning serious. “What are your plans?”
“What plans are there?” Feng Xuanzhen’s eyes lit instantly. “Of course I’ll fight bravely and pacify the western frontier!”
Among all the princes, none were more enthusiastic about warfare than he.
In an instant, his earlier embarrassment vanished completely.
A sharp, predatory gleam shone in his dark eyes.
He had never cared for scholarly pursuits.
Poetry made his head spin.
Music sounded to him like playing the lute to a cow.
But military treatises—
Those he could devour at a glance, committing them instantly to memory.
From childhood, his physique had far surpassed that of his brothers.
Though only newly come of age, his body was already as strong as that of a grown man.
With a deep passion for martial arts—and the finest instructors appointed by the Emperor—
He was, in truth, a warrior capable of standing against a hundred foes.
Feng Xuanyi frowned.
He could never quite understand how this straightforward younger brother had managed to survive this long in the palace.
“You are the only one among us who has been permitted to lead troops the moment you came of age,” Feng Xuanyi said gravely. “Even if only as a deputy general—His Majesty’s expectations of you should be clear.”
“Precisely because I understand,” Feng Xuanzhen replied earnestly, “I must perform well and not disappoint Father Emperor—”
“Precisely because you understand—”
Feng Xuanyi cut him off sharply.
“—you must know when to stop.”
Feng Xuanzhen blinked, confusion written plainly across his face.
“Marquis Dingbei, Nalan Jian, is a seasoned commander with countless victories. He has his own methods of war,” Feng Xuanyi continued. “You need only follow, observe, and learn. Book knowledge is useless without experience—you require tempering.”
He paused, his gaze steady.
“Since His Majesty has assigned you as his deputy, there must be intent behind it. The nail that sticks out gets hammered down. This is your first campaign—do not overstep.”
“But he’s aligned with the Crown Prince’s faction!” Feng Xuanzhen protested anxiously. “Even if he claims neutrality, he’s never favored Eldest Brother. If he gains further merit this time, won’t that strengthen the Crown Prince even more?”
Feng Xuanyi seemed unconcerned.
He watched his horse graze leisurely, his expression calm.
“That is not your concern.”
“As long as you survive—and secure your share of merit—while learning true battlefield command from a founding general… your time to achieve greatness will come.”
“But—”
“No ‘but’.”
Feng Xuanyi spurred his horse forward, gazing into the vast blue sky as the wind lifted the strands of hair at his brow.
“To be a subject is to know one’s place. Never allow merit to overshadow the sovereign.”
He spoke evenly.
“We watch. And perhaps… it is time His Majesty was reminded as well. Or perhaps, in sending you out so urgently, he has already perceived it—after all, military power in the hands of an outsider is never entirely reassuring.”
Watching Feng Xuanyi ride farther away, Feng Xuanzhen finally snapped out of his thoughts.
“Fifth Brother! Stop speaking in riddles!”
He called out loudly.
“It’s frustrating listening to half your meaning! Brother! Don’t ride off like that!”
With a crack of his whip, he urged his horse forward in pursuit.
As for Ning Xuan—
He had no time to concern himself with such grand affairs.
Or perhaps more accurately—
He simply had no capacity for it.
His days were consumed with endless, exhausting chores that left him miserable.
And to make matters worse—he wasn’t even properly fed.
Clumsy as ever, he constantly made mistakes, which only created more work for himself.
After much pleading, he finally managed to obtain ink and brushes from the steward’s assistant, Xiao Tang.
Of course, he couldn’t admit the truth—that he had accidentally smudged the text in the books and wanted to retrace it.
So he muddled through with excuses, smiling ingratiatingly, shamelessly flattering:
He claimed he wished to practice his calligraphy—
Said that watching the steward painstakingly copy records every month was exhausting—
And that he hoped to improve his writing so he could help share the burden.
To his surprise—
Xiao Tang actually believed him.
Though copying records wasn’t particularly heavy work, for someone like Xiao Tang—accustomed to idling about, speaking nonsense, and shirking responsibility—it was still enough to leave him sore and aching.
Hearing Ning Xuan’s overly dramatic plea, he was instantly moved.
Without hesitation, he agreed.
Not only that—
He generously brought several extra brushes—
And even gifted a stack of fine Xuan paper for practice.
Before leaving, he repeatedly praised Ning Xuan for his “filial heart,” declaring that he surely had a promising future ahead.
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