Xishan Mountain was a full five-day journey from the capital, even farther than Zuowang Mountain.
On the fifth day after the imperial entourage left the capital, Fu Yan, as usual, got up early. When he reached the seventh floor, someone immediately came to report the movements in Prince Ying’s residence.
The report detailed everything, from how many times water was called for during the night, to how many guards from Prince Ying’s residence managed to sneak out during moments of lax security. If it concerned Prince Ying, there wasn’t a single detail the spies from the Secret Cabinet couldn’t uncover.
After listening, Fu Yan lost his appetite, but remembering Gu Fu’s warning before she left the capital, he forced himself to drink half a bowl of porridge.
After breakfast, Yi Ye, who had just swapped shifts with Yi Hua to start his daytime duties, rushed up to the tower. He said that Lin Yuezhi, who was still in the Ying Prince’s residence, had sent a small note through the spies of the Secret Cabinet.
Fu Yan reached out to take the note. As he lifted his hand, his sleeve slightly slid back, revealing a longevity thread tied around his wrist.
The longevity thread was woven from five-colored silk, which looked somewhat out of place on Fu Yan, who was dressed entirely in white. It was like a simple, elegant painting of white plum blossoms that had been accidentally smudged with vibrant colors.
This was the longevity thread that Gu Fu had tied for him during this year’s Dragon Boat Festival. He had placed it in a box upon returning that day, but after Gu Fu left the capital, for some reason, he had taken it out and put it back on.
Unfolding the note Lin Yuezhi had sent, Fu Yan read its contents, and a hint of astonishment appeared in his eyes.
…
Upon arriving at Xishan Mountain on the first day, the accompanying palace attendants and servants from various households began setting up the tents. The nobles, officials, and their wives gathered in separate groups, some walking around while others had servants spread large cloths on the ground so they could sit and rest.
Gu Fu, dressed in men’s attire, felt somewhat out of place among the other ladies, so she decided to ride her horse and wander around the area.
Although Xishan Mountain was called a mountain, it was actually just a large hill. At the top of this hill stood a secondary palace, built by a past emperor who, while unwilling to break with tradition, also disliked staying in tents. However, this emperor’s indulgence and incompetence had led to a period of turmoil for Dayong, and eventually, his nephew seized the throne and restored the nation.
Since then, the Xishan Mountain Palace had become more of a symbol, a relic of that era. Any emperor who dared to stay in the palace during the winter hunt instead of in the tents would surely face fierce opposition from the court officials, who would protest even at the cost of their lives.
The hunting grounds were located at the foot of Xishan Mountain, with the tents set up between the hunting grounds and the secondary palace.
Gu Fu wandered around the camp and discovered a small stream that bypassed Xishan Mountain and flowed directly into the hunting grounds. She squatted by the stream, washed her hands, and stood up, gazing towards the hunting grounds with a growing sense of anticipation.
The winter hunt wasn’t just about hunting in the grounds; it also included military exercises during the final days. In previous years, these exercises were primarily for honing the skills of the Imperial Guards, but with the addition of the Chiyao Army this year, it was bound to be a fierce and intense competition.
Unfortunately, she could only watch. Not only was she barred from participating in the military exercises, but she also wouldn’t even get the chance to join the others in hunting.
The more she thought about it, the more frustrated she became, so she went to the Empress to vent her grievances.
The Empress, busy with her own matters, wasn’t in the mood to deal with Gu Fu, so she sent someone to relay Gu Fu’s desires to the Emperor.
Before long, the Emperor issued a verbal decree, instructing that a small area on the outskirts of the hunting grounds be designated as a “small hunting ground.” It was to be cleared of venomous snakes and dangerous beasts, leaving only smaller animals so that the ladies could enjoy a bit of hunting themselves.
Gu Fu was left speechless. “Well, it’s better than nothing,” she thought.
Although Gu Fu was only mildly interested, the other young women were thrilled. Some rushed to borrow men’s clothing, others sought bows and horses from their brothers, and some were even more extreme, not knowing how to ride a horse at all and asking Gu Fu to teach them on the spot.
Gu Fu had originally wanted to immerse herself in the hunt, but instead, she found herself playing the role of martial instructor to the ladies, spending her days teaching them how to ride and shoot. This went on for two days, until on the third day, Gu Fu, while leisurely riding her horse, wandered over to the edge of the small hunting ground.
To prevent the ladies from accidentally straying into the main hunting grounds and to avoid men mistakenly entering the small hunting ground, a circle of Chiyao Army guards had been stationed around the perimeter.
When the guards saw Gu Fu approaching, they instinctively moved to block her path.
Gu Fu waved her hand dismissively. “I’m not going in, I just want to have a look.”
She stopped her horse and leaned forward to peer out.
Perhaps because the ladies were all gathered on this side, men occasionally appeared nearby—not with any ill intentions, but simply out of a natural desire to show off their archery and skills in front of the women. This had the effect of driving more wild animals towards them.
Gu Fu noticed a group of young men chasing after a wolf, but despite several attempts, they failed to bring it down.
Just as the wolf was about to charge into the small hunting ground, the Chiyao guards were preparing to intervene to prevent it from startling the women when suddenly, an arrow shot out from behind them, pinning the wolf to the ground.
The young men were startled and quickly reined in their horses, while the Chiyao guards turned to look at Gu Fu. She smiled and said, “I can’t cross over, so could I trouble you to retrieve my catch?”
The Chiyao guards obediently went over and brought back the wolf that Gu Fu had shot.
Gu Fu continued to linger around the perimeter of the small hunting ground, never crossing the boundary, but every time someone tried to chase prey into the small hunting ground to show off their skills in front of the ladies, she would intercept and claim the prey for herself. The young women quickly gave up on chasing rabbits, choosing instead to follow Gu Fu around, cheering and applauding as she thwarted the men’s attempts.
Gu Fu initially thought that her actions would deter people from driving prey towards the small hunting ground, but to her surprise, even more people showed up the next day. Each of them, unwilling to back down, insisted on trying to outshoot Gu Fu in her presence. However, the outcome was always the same—once Gu Fu spotted the prey, it had no chance of escaping.
By the end of the second day, the number of animals Gu Fu had hunted even ranked her among the top hunters on the men’s side.
On the fifth day, the Empress ordered a two-person-high cloth wall to be erected outside the small hunting ground, with the Chiyao Army stationed outside to completely separate the small hunting ground from the main hunting grounds. The reason for this was simple—there were too many wild animals being driven into the small hunting ground, and there was no guarantee that Gu Fu and the Chiyao Army could bring down all the beasts. For the safety of the other women, this measure had to be taken.
Gu Fu understood and didn’t complain. She was quite satisfied with the two days of hunting and resumed teaching the young women how to ride and shoot.
That evening, Mu Qingyao scolded Gu Fu for not washing her hair, forcing her to sneak off to the stream to wash it.
Just as she finished and was about to return, she spotted two familiar figures walking along the stream—one was the Prince of Yi, and the other was Mu Shaoqing.
Gu Fu, while drying her hair, greeted them. Dressed in men’s clothing, Gu Fu looked so much like her former self as the commander of the Northern Frontier that Mu Shaoqing, in a moment of confusion, trembled in fear.
Gu Fu looked at Mu Shaoqing with a puzzled expression.
Mu Shaoqing stammered, “M-Miss Gu, Second Miss.”
Gu Fu smiled, “No need to be so formal, cousin. You can just call me Gu Er.”
“Y-yes, I, uh, I have something to attend to, so I’ll take my leave first.” Mu Shaoqing hastily excused himself from the Prince of Yi and quickly turned to leave, almost as if fleeing.
Gu Fu was left baffled. She turned to the Prince of Yi, about to take her leave, when she heard him say, “I’ve heard that Second Miss Gu’s archery skills are extraordinary. It’s a shame the small hunting ground has been walled off; it seems you won’t be able to hunt the wild animals in the main grounds anymore.”
Gu Fu responded with a noncommittal “oh.”
She had only met the Prince of Yi twice before, making this their third encounter. They weren’t particularly familiar with each other, and there wasn’t much to talk about. However, the Prince of Yi seemed eager to engage her in conversation and continued, “It’s one thing to have never hunted before, but now that you know your skills are on par with the men, don’t you feel frustrated at being confined to the small hunting ground?”
The campfire’s light cast a glow on one side of the Prince of Yi’s face, leaving the other half in deep shadow. Droplets of water, still clinging to Gu Fu’s hair, slowly trickled down, dampening her shoulder.
Gu Fu casually remarked, “It’s fine, really. I can’t put others in danger just because of me.”
The Prince of Yi sighed softly, “There’s no place in this world that’s truly safe. If you have the ability, why should you have to restrain yourself?”
Gu Fu chuckled, “It’s just hunting—what’s there to be upset about?”
the Prince of Yi’s tone turned regretful, “I think you understand that I’m not just talking about hunting.”
Gu Fu’s smile gradually faded.
They stood about a yard apart, silently gazing at each other for a moment before Gu Fu spoke, “Is Your Highness saying that you heard something from my cousin?”
The Prince of Yi shook his head, “I once accidentally rescued a Northern Frontier military doctor who was not in his right mind. From him, I heard stories about you, General.”
Gu Fu’s smile returned, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Is Your Highness telling me that you saved a military doctor from the Northern Frontier while in the capital?”
Gu Fu emphasized the words “capital” and “Northern Frontier.”
The Prince of Yi nodded, “Indeed. I have no idea how that doctor managed to get from the Northern Frontier to the capital. I knew his words were highly confidential, so I kept him at my residence. Would the General like to meet him?”
Gu Fu’s smile grew brighter, “Your Highness mentioned that the doctor wasn’t in his right mind. How could his words be trusted? For all we know, he might not even be a military doctor from the Northern Frontier. Your Highness should be cautious and not believe in someone whose background is unclear.”
The Prince of Yi didn’t press the matter and instead nodded in agreement with Gu Fu. “You’re right.”
Gu Fu bid him farewell, but after only a few steps, the Prince of Yi’s voice called out once more, “What do you think…”
Gu Fu stopped in her tracks.
The Prince of Yi asked, “If what that madman said were true—about a girl from the capital running off to the Northern Frontier, joining the army, fighting in battles, and eventually becoming a military commander—what do you think would be her ultimate fate?”
Gu Fu turned slightly to look at him and replied, “Wouldn’t it be dying gloriously on the battlefield, sacrificing for the country?”
The Prince of Yi took a step closer to where Gu Fu stood and pressed further, “With such achievements, why couldn’t it be a life of honors, gaining titles, and being remembered in history?”
Gu Fu didn’t answer. Instead, she let out a laugh, one filled with sarcasm.
When she returned to the tent, Mu Qingyao was still waiting for her. Upon seeing Gu Fu’s wet hair, Mu Qingyao quickly put down the book she was holding and fetched a cle an cotton towel to dry her hair.
As she dried Gu Fu’s hair, she scolded lightly, “I only made an offhand comment; you didn’t need to run out in the middle of the night to wash your hair.”
Gu Fu responded, “I needed to wash it anyway; I was feeling uncomfortable.”
After her hair was dry, Gu Fu didn’t change clothes and go to bed. Instead, she tied up her hair and prepared to go see the emperor.
But just as she stepped outside the tent, she heard the sound of galloping hooves heading straight for the emperor’s royal tent. Gu Fu quickened her pace and saw Lu Zhu outside the emperor’s tent.
Lu Zhu stumbled towards Gu Fu, her face pale, and said in a trembling voice, “Miss, there’s a letter from the capital. Prince Ying led his troops into the imperial city and took control of the officials. Not only did they blow up the palace gates, but they also surrounded the Grand Preceptor at Qitian Tower and set it on fire—burning the Imperial Preceptor alive inside…”
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