Chapter 83

Proofreader: Mim

After an entire day of effort, the four of them failed to uncover any leads. With no progress made, they decided to set the matter aside for the time being.

By late July, the Mingyue Tower grasslands had entered the prime season for horseback hunting. Though most people had returned to the capital, some couldn’t resist the lure of the hunt.

Li Zhi looked in surprise at Li Cien, who had been pestering her throughout dinner.

“Aren’t you not that interested in horseback riding?”

“That’s only when I have to ride a horse every time I go out!” Li Cien retorted, squatting by her legs like a puppy and rocking her calf back and forth. “Now that we always travel by carriage, I kind of miss it. Isn’t there a saying? ‘The best thing is the one you can’t have!’ Sister, will you go with me or not?”

“Fine, fine… I’ll go,” Li Zhi relented with a sigh. “When’s the next rest day—?”

“On the last day of the twelfth lunar month!” Li Cien interrupted excitedly. “It’s a holiday that day!”

“It’s possible, but I don’t know where we’d be able to go horseback hunting…”

“Lishan Mountain,” Xie Lanxu’s voice came from the study.

Li Zhi glanced up. Xie Lanxu, pausing mid-brushstroke at his desk, joined their conversation.

“I have a villa at the foot of Lishan Mountain. It can serve as a rest stop,” he said. “Hunting is more fun with a crowd. We could invite my eldest daughter’s family to join us that day.”

Hearing the eighteen-year-old Xie Lanxu use the term ‘eldest daughter’ felt oddly incongruous to Li Zhi, and it took her a moment to realize whom he was referring to.

“That’s a good idea. Xiangsheng seems to get along well with the brothers from the Moqi family. It’s been a while since they last saw each other,” Li Zhi said.

“Then it’s settled!” Li Cien clapped her hands in delight. “On the last day of the twelfth lunar month, we’ll all go horseback riding at Lishan!”

Xie Lanxu nodded, his agreement sealed.

“Longyan will surely be delighted,” he said.

Since returning to the capital, Longyan, Li Zhi’s horse, had been stabled at the Prince’s Manor. She realized it had been some time since she last saw him.

On the day of the outing, Li Zhi finally reunited with Longyan after several months.

The once wobbly foal had grown into a mature, magnificent stallion. His coat gleamed a rich chestnut, his eyes were bright and sharp, and he had become taller and stronger than his father—a horse of exceptional quality, even among warhorses.

As though sensing her presence, Longyan excitedly trotted up to Li Zhi, nuzzling her hand with his head, clearly remembering the care she’d given him during his birth.

After leaving the city, the group met the Moqi siblings waiting near the city gates.

The three Moqi brothers, who now worked within the imperial palace, had matured visibly, their demeanor steady and composed. Only the youngest, Moqi She, retained his playful nature, his eyes lighting up as he spotted Li Zhi. He greeted her with a mischievous grin and a series of exaggerated winks.

Their younger sister, Moqi Danliao, stood among them like a dazzling phoenix, as vibrant and commanding as ever.

Li Zhi had heard bits and pieces about Moqi Danliao’s life since returning to the capital.

The bold and free-spirited attitude of Mingyue Tower was absent in the rigid, conservative capital. A woman as unconventional as Moqi Danliao was treated like an outlandish spectacle—mocked, ridiculed, and ostracized.

Yet, despite a year of malicious gossip, Moqi Danliao’s sharpness and spirit remained unbroken.

True strength, after all, cannot be wounded by the venom of others.

Since their time together at Mingyue Tower, Li Zhi had grown to deeply admire Moqi Danliao, a young woman who defied gender expectations, standing tall and strong, even capable of taking up arms on the battlefield. Moqi Danliao embodied the kind of person Li Zhi had once dreamed of being.

When their gazes met, Moqi Danliao’s eyes were slightly guarded, perhaps even confrontational.

Li Zhi knew of Moqi Danliao’s feelings for Xie Lanxu. Technically, this made them rivals. Yet, instead of animosity, Li Zhi greeted her with a warm, genuine smile.

She sincerely hoped they could build a friendship—a true bond untainted by any man’s presence.

Moqi Danliao clearly hadn’t expected Li Zhi’s friendly overture. Her initial reaction was one of surprise and awkwardness, and she quickly averted her gaze.

With a larger group, the atmosphere grew lively.

Eight horses formed a line, moving in pairs along the mountain road. At the rear, Hei Huo drove a cart filled with supplies—food, drinks, and spare clothing. The cart also carried Jia He and Jia Sui, who couldn’t ride but wanted to join the outing.

The jingling of the cart’s bells rang cheerfully along the path.

Upon arriving at the base of Lishan Mountain, the group prepared for the hunt, strapping on quivers and readying their bows.

“Still remember how to ride a horse?” Moqi She asked, trotting his horse up beside Li Zhi. With his chin raised playfully, he added, “Let’s see who can shoot the most game today!”

Li Zhi opened her mouth to respond, but a larger horse suddenly wedged itself between them.

Moqi Danliao, her face impassive, said, “If you want to compete, compete with me. Challenging a young lady from the capital? Aren’t you afraid of embarrassing yourself if you win?”

“How would that embarrass me?!” Moqi She shot back, eyes wide with indignation.

When it came to banter, Moqi She was no match for Moqi Danliao. Within moments, she had him sputtering in frustration. Finally, he huffed, “A real man doesn’t argue with women! I’m not wasting my breath on you!” and rode off.

Moqi Danliao turned to Li Zhi. “Well? Are you up for a challenge?”

“Let’s compete,” Li Zhi said with a smile.

The two women locked eyes, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Without another word, they spurred their horses and galloped into the forest, their bows at the ready.

“…Since when did they get along so well?” Li Cien muttered suspiciously, watching the two disappear into the woods.

Xie Lanxu cast a brief glance in their direction before withdrawing his gaze indifferently.

“It’s a good thing,” he said simply.

“Let’s compete too!” Li Xiangsheng trotted his horse over to Moqi Ji, issuing his challenge with a determined grin.

As the eldest Moqi brother, Moqi Ji hadn’t expected to be challenged. His surprise gave way to amusement, and he grinned. “Don’t cry if you lose.”

“You better not cry,” Li Xiangsheng shot back coolly.

Soon, only Li Cien and Xie Lanxu remained outside the forest.

Hei Huo, unable to ride, had stayed back at the villa to tend to the house.

Xie Lanxu turned his horse around and slowly made his way back toward the villa.

“You’re leaving already?” Li Cien called after him, watching his retreating figure.

He didn’t respond.

Li Cien shrugged, unimpressed by his behavior.

Having no one to impress, she cheerfully dismounted and began her real mission for the day: collecting wild vegetables for the evening’s hotpot.

“This has to be perfect! The wild vegetable hotpot must be flawless, and everything else, too!” she whispered to herself, clenching her fists in determination. After grabbing a small basket from her horse, she skipped off along the edge of the forest, searching for ingredients.

As the sun bathed the world in its crimson glow, Li Zhi and Moqi Danliao emerged from the forest, their horses laden with rabbits and foxes.

Though Li Zhi had performed admirably, her haul still couldn’t match Moqi Danliao’s.

“I lost,” Li Zhi admitted with good humor.

“It would’ve been strange if you’d won,” Moqi Danliao said bluntly. Her words, though curt, were more factual than unfriendly.

“I grew up on horseback,” Moqi Danliao explained. “When other girls were learning embroidery, I was learning to ride and shoot. If you had beaten me, I’d be worried something was wrong with me.” She paused, then added, “Still, for a young lady from the capital, you’re not bad.”

“Thanks for the compliment. I’ll keep improving,” Li Zhi replied, smiling.

Moqi Danliao glanced at her, the corners of her mouth curving upward slightly.

Li Zhi was certain that during their time together in the forest, the transparent yet awkward barrier between them—created by their shared connection to Xie Lanxu—had completely vanished.

“I used to have feelings for Prince Langya,” Moqi Danliao said suddenly.

Li Zhi turned back to face her, surprised.

Moqi Danliao, seated confidently on her horse, spoke with composure.

“But that was just an illusion. I was projecting my admiration for the Crown Prince onto Prince Langya. Now I fully understand the fundamental difference between them.”

Li Zhi listened intently, moved by Moqi Danliao’s honesty.

“Prince Langya carries the Crown Prince’s bloodline, but none of his charisma,” Moqi Danliao said, nudging her horse forward. As she passed Li Zhi, she added, “Stay by his side if you want, but tread carefully.”

Not far away, Moqi Ji and Li Xiangsheng were counting their spoils. The more Moqi Ji counted, the more incredulous he became, his eyes widening with each tally.

“Unbelievable… I actually lost to someone who’s barely ridden a horse!”

Meanwhile, Moqi She, the youngest, had grown restless. He called out impatiently to Li Zhi and Moqi Danliao, who were still lingering by the trees. “What are you two chatting about over there?”

Li Zhi quickly rejoined the group, looking around. “Where’s His Highness?”

“Oh, he said he was tired and went back to the villa,” Li Cien replied nonchalantly.

This sudden decision seemed very much in line with Xie Lanxu’s personality, so Li Zhi didn’t think much of it.

The group returned to the villa with their haul, brimming with excitement. Hei Huo was already busy tending the fire and setting up the pot, while Jia He and Jia Sui sorted through the game, selecting the fattest cuts for the evening’s hotpot.

Though the Moqi brothers had little experience in the kitchen, they didn’t share the typical aversion many capital men had toward cooking. Seeing the Jia sisters overwhelmed, the three brothers jumped in to help, albeit clumsily.

The villa was filled with laughter, especially as the twins’ identical looks caused constant confusion.

“Jia Sui, can you pass me that—”

“I’m Jia He!”

“Jia He, do you want this rabbit skin? It could make a nice pair of gloves—”

“Thanks, but I’m Jia Sui.”

As the sun sank below the horizon and the villa was enveloped in the soft hues of twilight, the copper pot was finally boiling. The group gathered in the courtyard, enjoying the cool summer breeze. Surrounded by the rich aroma of fresh mountain delicacies, they all felt an unfamiliar yet deeply comforting sense of freedom.

Moqi Ji sighed wistfully. “For a moment, it feels like we’re back at Mingyue Tower.”

“Mingyue Tower was that great?” Jia He asked, curious.

Having never been to Mingyue Tower, Jia He’s impression of it was a gloomy, rain-soaked prison.

“It was better than this,” Moqi Ji said with a shake of his head, giving Jia He a pitying look as if her life had been incomplete for not experiencing Mingyue Tower.

Jia He frowned, clearly unconvinced.

“Where’s His Highness?” Li Zhi asked, scanning the courtyard. “He’s gone again?”

“Don’t know. Maybe he had to answer nature’s call,” Li Cien said, her gaze drifting lazily toward the kitchen.

Li Zhi was about to get up and look for him when Jia Sui walked over, cradling a small jar of plum wine.

“This is plum wine my mother made in the countryside,” Jia Sui said with a smile. “Everyone should have a taste. It’s not the finest brew, but it has a unique charm.”

As she removed the cloth sealing the jar, a crisp, fruity aroma filled the air.

The enticing scent captured Li Zhi’s attention, and for the moment, she forgot about Xie Lanxu altogether.

“When did your mother come?” she asked in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“My mother came to check on us and left quickly,” Jia Sui replied with a smile. “Miss was busy on duty at the palace, so I thought there was no need to trouble you with such a small matter.”

“What do you mean, ‘trouble me’? Next time Auntie visits, you must let me know,” Li Zhi said.

Jia Sui smiled and agreed, then poured a cup of plum wine for everyone at the table.

Moqi Li, a self-proclaimed connoisseur of alcohol, raised his cup and sniffed it with an expression of pure pleasure. He sighed and said, “Even the fine wine of Huixue Pavilion is no better than this.”

Hearing the compliment to their mother’s brewing skills, Jia Sui and Jia He both smiled proudly.

Just as everyone was praising the plum wine, Moqi Ji sniffed the air and said suspiciously, “Who’s still cooking in the kitchen? I can smell the scent of a steamer being opened.”

After his comment, Li Zhi caught the faint aroma too—the distinct scent of steamed dough wafting out. She was just about to get up and check the kitchen when a figure emerged from it.

Xie Lanxu walked out carefully, balancing a bowl in one hand and a plate in the other. His entire focus was on keeping the dishes steady as he walked with a stiff and awkward gait that seemed a little clumsy.

Li Zhi was about to go over and help him, but as soon as she stood, she was gently pressed back into her seat by Li Cien.

Startled, she turned to meet Cien’s mischievous gaze. Cien gave her a sly smile and gestured for her to stay seated and watch.

Xie Lanxu reached the square table where everyone was gathered and placed the bowl and plate in front of Li Zhi.

“What’s this?” Li Zhi was completely stunned.

The bowl was an ordinary white porcelain one, filled with an exceptionally simple dish—yangchun mian (plain noodles in clear broth)—that looked so plain it barely had any visual appeal. On the porcelain plate were four large steamed buns, neither square nor perfectly round, with a rustic and unsophisticated appearance.

Li Zhi seemed to be the only one taken aback. The others at the table, including Li Xiangsheng, Li Cien, the Moqi siblings, and even Hei Huo, were all acting as if they had expected this. Some even smiled knowingly.

One by one, wine cups were raised.

“To Miss Li…”
“To Big Sister…”
“To the Lady…”

Even Xie Lanxu lifted the cup of wine that someone had poured for him. Looking directly into Li Zhi’s eyes, he spoke slowly and clearly:
“To Shameless Fruit—”
“Happy eighteenth birthday.”

Countless wine cups were lifted in unison, and countless smiling faces gazed warmly at Li Zhi.

“Although Sister’s birthday isn’t for a few more days, we thought it’d be better to celebrate early while everyone is free during the holiday,” Li Cien explained. “Of course, the idea to throw this birthday celebration was proposed by Prince Langya. We just helped to cover it up and coordinate!”

Li Zhi didn’t know what to say. She was completely frozen, her bewildered gaze darting from one person to another. A surge of emotion swelled in her chest like a tidal wave, blocking her throat. She was afraid that if she opened her mouth, she might choke up and cry.

There were still traces of flour on Xie Lanxu’s cheek. Though the answer was already obvious, Li Zhi still asked, “What… is this?”

“This is longevity noodles and steamed buns, made by the Prince himself,” Xie Lanxu said. “Eating them will turn you into Chang Shou Guo (a fruit of longevity).”

Li Zhi couldn’t help but laugh.

“So, this is what you were busy with all afternoon,” she said, raising her sleeve to wipe the flour off Xie Lanxu’s face. “But why steamed buns?”

Xie Lanxu hesitated for a moment before replying, “…An apology.”

“An apology for what?” Li Zhi asked, puzzled.

Perhaps it was because there were too many eavesdroppers openly paying attention, but Xie Lanxu’s expression suddenly shifted to one of cool detachment. He said in a lofty tone, “No reason. I just felt like it.”

Moqi Li had been straining his ears to catch something juicy, but when he heard this, he nearly choked in frustration. Glaring at Xie Lanxu, he dared not rebuke the prince directly and instead muttered under his breath, “…Fine, don’t say anything, then.”

Even though Li Zhi pressed Xie Lanxu for an explanation again, he seemed to have made up his mind not to elaborate. In the end, she never learned why he had made the four steamed buns himself or what he was apologizing for.

After the group had eaten and drunk their fill, they lingered at the villa until the night sky was blanketed with stars. The lively camaraderie of gathering friends was something Li Zhi hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

Ever since her twin sister’s passing, this was the first birthday she had celebrated.
And it was the most unforgettable birthday of her life.

Under a sparsely moonlit sky, the group mounted their horses and began their journey back home.

When they passed by the Shili Pavilion, Li Zhi couldn’t help but stop and take a long look. She wasn’t the only one; her siblings, Li Cien and Li Xiangsheng, also halted their horses to gaze at it.

“What’s so interesting about an old pavilion?” Moqi Li asked.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Li Cien shot back with a glare.

Every exile leaving the capital would pass through this Shili Pavilion. Li Zhi could still remember the day she left—snow falling heavily, piling thickly on the pavilion roof.

The cries of the exiles had echoed deafeningly in the air around the Shili Pavilion. Standing among them, surrounded by the sound of despair, she had felt utterly hopeless.

Now, revisiting the same place, she found her feelings completely different.

Li Zhi felt a surge of emotion and was about to look away when her eyes caught sight of the inscription on the pavilion. Her heart trembled, and she found herself unable to avert her gaze.

“What’s wrong?” Xie Lanxu, the first to notice her abnormality, rode over to her side.

Li Zhi opened her mouth to speak but realized there was a more straightforward way to explain. She raised her hand and pointed at the plaque on the pavilion.

Xie Lanxu followed her gaze.

On the bronze plaque were three characters written in bold strokes: Langfan Pavilion The word “Lang” was written in the exact same style as the “Lang” in the coded message they had seen earlier: “The mantis stalks the cicada.”

[Note: The lang in Langfan Pavilion is written 郎 while the lang in mantis (tanglang) is written 螂 – the part to the right is the same.]

At the bottom of the plaque was an elegantly flamboyant signature: Qian Yiwang.