FYM - 23

The mountain paths were indeed rugged and difficult to traverse.

Perhaps due to the recent snowfall, the ground in the forest was muddy everywhere. Someone like Song Shuyan, who lacked proficiency in riding, had to exercise extra caution to avoid falling off her horse and ending up in a sorry state.

Miss Lou Tong, however, was bold and skilled, riding her handsome white steed as if it were gliding over flat ground. Her archery was equally impressive, exuding a commanding presence. Within a few arrows, she had already hunted a wild rabbit. The ladies following behind erupted into cheers, praising her: “No wonder she’s the younger sister of General Lou Feng! That Yinping Prince looks like a weakling—how could he possibly be worthy of her?”

Lou Tong was thoroughly delighted by their flattery. Glancing back, she noticed that the Song sisters had fallen far behind. She turned her horse around and rode back toward them, laughing: “The Songs are truly a family of scholars—you’ve been raised so elegantly. How can you fear falling when riding? You mustn’t let the horse bully you either. Show some determination and rein it in firmly. Once you do, it’ll surely learn to obey.”

Her advice was sound, but putting it into practice was easier said than done. Song Shuqing’s face revealed a bitter smile as she called out, “Dear Elder Sister,” and added, “My younger sister and I lack skill and might not keep up with your pace. Why don’t we proceed slowly for now and catch up later?”

Lou Tong chuckled and shook her head. Just as she was about to tease them further, one of the accompanying servants pointed into the distance, shouting that a deer had been spotted running deeper into the forest. Lou Tong’s eyes lit up. A deer was far more impressive than rabbits or pheasants, and she was eager to hunt one to boast about to her brothers. Before chasing after it, she didn’t forget to whip the horses ridden by the Song sisters.

The two horses, startled by the pain, neighed loudly and bolted forward at full speed. Song Shuqing and Song Shuyan were both terrified, their faces pale as they desperately pulled on the reins. Lou Tong rode up beside them, laughing as she encouraged them: “Just listen to me—once you’ve run like this, you won’t be afraid anymore. Otherwise, how long will you drag your feet practicing?”

As she spoke, she lashed the horses again, urging them to gallop even faster.

On this side, laughter and merriment echoed continuously. Meanwhile, the sixth zone on the northern side of the mountain remained eerily silent and desolate.

Over the past decade, the Lishan Palace had undergone numerous renovations. The imperial hunting grounds were located on the southern slopes, while the northern side had been left vacant for years. Recently, the Emperor, deeply devoted to Daoism, decided to build a new Daoist temple on the shaded northern slopes. The Ministry of Works had already completed about seventy to eighty percent of the construction, though work had paused briefly during the winter hunt. It was expected to be finished before the New Year.

At this moment, two figures appeared within the incomplete temple. The man stood tall and stern like a pine in the wind, while the woman radiated an ethereal beauty akin to moonlit waves. Their features bore a striking resemblance—they were none other than Fang Xianting and his elder sister, Crown Princess Fang Ranjun.

“Yi Zhi…” Fang Ranjun’s face was pale, and her eyes avoided his gaze. “I…”

Fang Xianting stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his expression colder than usual. The small mole beneath his right eye no longer appeared gentle; instead, it added to his austere demeanor.

“The Lishan winter hunt is under the watchful eyes of many. His Majesty and the Crown Prince are personally present on the southern slopes,” his voice was icy. “Elder Sister, do you think I can continue covering for you much longer?”

Though Fang Xianting was known for his reserved nature, he rarely spoke with such sharpness. Fang Ranjun shrank back slightly, lowering her head. “I… I just…”

“You want to see him?” Fang Xianting cut her off, his tone authoritative and unyielding. “See Su Jin?”

“The disaster in Dizhou claimed tens of thousands of lives, leaving the entire region submerged. He is now a disgraced official. And yet—you still want to see him?”

His words were spoken softly.

The calamity in Dizhou had affected the entire Hebei Circuit. After the floods came an epidemic, exacerbated by the ineffective relief efforts of local officials, leading to widespread unrest. If not for Fang Xianting and the military governor of Ziqing suppressing the rebellion months ago, the chaos might have spilled over the Luo River and reached the western capital. Now, the Emperor had ordered the recall of Governor Su Jin, who would soon face a public trial and severe punishment. Yet here he was, brazenly sneaking into Lishan to meet with the Crown Princess…

“He did all he could…” Fang Ranjun’s voice trembled faintly, her eyes reddening. “He is an upright and incorruptible man. Father once held him in high regard… This time, the disaster in Dizhou struck too suddenly. He…”

“How dare you still mention Father!” Fang Xianting interrupted her, his tone frosty. “If he knew you were still secretly meeting with Su Jin here in Lishan, he…”

He trailed off, his eyes darkening with surging anger like a bird of prey.

Su Jin…

He was the son of one of Marquis Fang He’s former comrades-in-arms, who had died in battle against the Turks during the Linghe era. Fang He, being a man of integrity, believed it was his duty to care for the orphaned children of his fallen soldiers. Thus, Su Jin was often brought along and raised alongside the Fang children, becoming quite familiar with them.

He and Fang Ranjun had grown up together, their childhood friendship blossoming into affection over time. However, as the Emperor’s intentions to depose the Crown Prince became increasingly apparent, the Fang family had to resist the Zhong faction and demonstrate loyalty to the Eastern Palace through marriage alliances. Consequently, Fang Ranjun was betrothed to Crown Prince Wei Qin.

Young love burns fiercely—it cannot be extinguished so easily. Fang Ranjun refused to marry, even showing hostility toward the Eastern Palace. But Su Jin, indebted to the Fangs, eventually relented after several conflicts, severing ties with her and leaving for Chang’an. The Crown Prince, kind-hearted and mindful of the Fang family’s sacrifice, personally recommended Su Jin as the governor of Dizhou, bringing the matter to a temporary close.

Years had passed since then, yet Fang Ranjun had never let go of her youthful attachment. Not only did she remain estranged from the Crown Prince, unable to bear an heir, but she and Su Jin had also rekindled their old flame. They exchanged secret letters, arranging to meet in Lishan. If discovered, the consequences would be catastrophic…

“How dare I not!”

Fang Ranjun suddenly raised her voice, lifting her head to meet Fang Xianting’s gaze. The fear and hesitation from moments ago vanished, replaced by a desperate resolve.

“Marrying into the Eastern Palace was never my choice—Father and His Highness both knew it well! Are you telling me that after they forced me once, now even you intend to join them in pressuring me?”

A single tear fell straight from her eye, her fragile and anguished appearance causing Fang Xianting’s brows to furrow even more deeply. “Elder Sister…”

They were siblings born of the same mother—how could he truly bear to see her suffer? But the current political situation was far too complex. The Emperor favored his second son and suppressed the Crown Prince’s position, intensifying the rivalry between the Fang and Zhong factions. In such circumstances, if the Crown Princess were caught in a scandal, the Crown Prince’s downfall would be almost inevitable, bringing ruin upon the Fang family as well.

Fang Ranjun understood his thoughts perfectly. As soon as he began speaking, she knew he would lecture her on lofty ideals and responsibilities—things she already knew but was too exhausted to care about anymore.

“Yi Zhi, I am just a woman…”

Her voice dropped again, as if her earlier outburst had drained her completely. Years had passed, leaving only endless confusion and desolation.

“Why must I shoulder the grand principles and righteousness that you and Father always speak of? Whether princes or ants, all return to dust in the end… I never sought fame or glory, nor do I care for a spotless reputation… Father valued the name ‘Fang’ above all else, but I only wish for a few days of peace and freedom outside those towering walls… even if it’s just for one day…”

“Yi Zhi…”

“I… I can’t breathe…”

She collapsed to her knees, tears streaming down her face. The unfinished temple was filthy, muddying her once-elegant gown, but she paid no heed. She sobbed uncontrollably, her despairing questions less a plea for answers and more a desperate cry for mercy.

“Let me see him… just once…”

She clutched tightly onto Fang Xianting’s sleeve.

“It has come to this… just one meeting…”

She didn’t realize how absurd and foolish her words were, but he did. He understood that she was leading herself—and their entire family—toward destruction. If their father were here, he would have scolded her mercilessly. But…

Fang Xianting closed his eyes briefly. The small mole beneath his right eye seemed softer now, perhaps betraying his lingering compassion for her. Yet there were things that could neither be said nor thought—they couldn’t change anything anyway.

“Sister…”

He sighed, gently taking her hand to help her rise. The post-snow northern slopes were serene and misty, the deserted forest exuding an otherworldly tranquility—a moment ripe for yielding to sentimentality. But just then, Zhuoying’s warning neigh pierced the air, reminding him how reckless and foolish his fleeting leniency would be.

“…Someone’s coming.”

He stepped protectively in front of Fang Ranjun, his eyes flashing with cold intent.