Chapter 10#

Rebellion: Throwing things at the Emperor!#

Bang—

Yanzhi was thrown onto the couch, falling into the piled-up blankets.

He struggled, waving his hands about, scrambling out of the bedding.

But as he turned, he bumped straight into the Emperor’s embrace.

—The Emperor was blocking him from behind.

Xiao Cuan stood before the couch, back to the candlelight.

He stood in the shadows, his expression hidden, yet his eyes shone in the darkness like a wolf’s, with an eerie light.

Yanzhi was startled, retreating until he fell back onto the couch.

“Your Majesty…”

Xiao Cuan was already tall, and the flickering candlelight cast a shadow that enveloped Yanzhi like a cage.

Yanzhi wanted to run, but under the overwhelming pressure of the Emperor’s wrath, he didn’t dare move.

He wanted to explain, opening his mouth, but suddenly found he couldn’t make a sound.

Yanzhi had seen such a situation.

During the day, while hunting on the mountain, the grey-furred rabbits, when struck by arrows, were so frightened that they couldn’t make any sound.

And all those rabbits could do was look at the hunter with red, pitiable eyes.

Yanzhi could only do the same.

Suddenly, Xiao Cuan leaned down sharply.

Yanzhi was startled again and instinctively hid.

It was just like a tiger hunting. A tiger, after catching its prey, doesn’t immediately bite its throat, but instead uses its claws to pin the prey’s tail, playing with it.

With a sullen gaze, Xiao Cuan approached step by step, inch by inch.

Yanzhi gripped the bedding beneath him with both hands and slowly backed away, shrinking onto the couch.

Finally, Yanzhi could no longer stand such powerful intimidation and, finding an opportunity, lunged toward the end of the couch, wanting to escape.

In the next moment, Xiao Cuan grabbed his collar.

“Mm…”

Xiao Cuan pinched the back of Yanzhi’s neck, caught him, firmly pinned him down, and lowered his head to press against his warm, trembling lips.

The beast had finished playing, tore off its disguise, and finally began to enjoy its prey.

Yanzhi tilted his head, forced to endure the storm of kisses and bites.

He was kissed until he couldn’t breathe, instinctively reaching out both hands to grip the Emperor’s lapels as if grabbing his last lifeline.

Xiao Cuan lowered his eyes, seemingly pleased by this action, and softened his intensity.

He leaned in again, pinning Yanzhi to the couch, one hand supporting his head, the other messing with his clothes, reaching inside.

Yanzhi was pinched once, and his grip on Xiao Cuan’s lapels tightened.

He lowered his head, his forehead resting against the man’s solid chest, uncontrollably trembling: “Your Majesty… Your Majesty… slower…”

Xiao Cuan didn’t say a word, his hands never stopping.

Until the voice of a servant came from outside the tent.

“Your Majesty, the banquet is ready.”

At the same time, Yanzhi let out a whimper, as if all his strength had left him, and slumped down weakly.

Yanzhi was sweating, and his clothes were in disarray.

Xiao Cuan, however, was neatly dressed and responded without looking back: “Understood.”

The servant left.

Xiao Cuan gave Yanzhi one last pinch, pulled the handkerchief from his bosom, and wiped his hands clean in front of him.

He finally spoke, but his tone was still displeased and full of threat.

“I’m the one holding the selection, not you. Why are you so restless?”

Yanzhi covered his face with his hand, turned his head away, and two lines of tears dampened the bedding.

He said softly: “I wasn’t…”

Xiao Cuan probably didn’t hear and continued: “Like a little dog that’s run into a flowerbed, rolling around and getting covered in pollen.”

“I wasn’t…”

“Next time you dare to attract bees and butterflies, I’ll directly disable you and lock you to the couch.”

Xiao Cuan pressed the dirty handkerchief against his cheek, forcefully wiping away the tears.

He finally commanded: “You are not to take another step out of the tent tonight.”

This was punishment.

Having said this, Xiao Cuan picked up the clean outer robe draped nearby, put it on, and prepared to go out and take a look.

On the first day of the Autumn Hunt, there was traditionally a banquet.

As Xiao Cuan reached the front of the tent, he suddenly heard a rustling sound behind him.

Following that, Yanzhi’s voice came through tears—

“I didn’t…”

He turned around and saw that Yanzhi had climbed up from the couch at some point.

He was clutching a blanket, holding that handkerchief in his hand, eyes red, staring at him with a face full of tears.

“I didn’t… I didn’t!”

Yanzhi cried harder and louder.

He was trembling, not knowing what else to say, only repeating those words.

He hadn’t attracted bees or butterflies, hadn’t flirted, hadn’t done anything bad!

Xiao Cuan frowned at him.

“I didn’t!”

Yanzhi gave one last cry, crumpled the handkerchief into a ball, and threw it forcefully toward Xiao Cuan.

But the handkerchief was light and didn’t travel far before falling to the floor.

He cried, clutched the quilt tightly, turned around, and hid in the corner of the couch with his back to Xiao Cuan.

Xiao Cuan strode forward, stepping over the handkerchief, wanting to grab Yanzhi and ask if he knew what he was saying, if he knew who he was throwing a tantrum at!

But just as he reached out, he heard Yanzhi’s muffled crying.

After a moment of silence, Xiao Cuan finally reached out, gripped Yanzhi’s shoulder, turned him around, and pushed a milk candy into his mouth.

Finally, he turned and strode away, forcefully throwing the tent flap shut.

*

The sky grew dark.

In the camp, the officials were still immersed in the joy of the day’s hunting, in high spirits.

Suddenly, the Emperor, dressed in a single robe and with a dark expression, emerged from his tent and strode through them.

Seeing something was wrong, the officials hurriedly stopped their laughter and bowed: “Your Majesty.”

Xiao Cuan ignored them, not even looking once, and walked straight to the main seat, flipping his robe as he sat down.

The servants held their breath and served fragrant roasted prey and rice wine.

They quietly looked around; Master Yanzhi wasn’t there, so there was no one sitting beside the Emperor to cut the meat and pour the wine for him. Then…

While they were hesitating, Xiao Cuan waved his hand and told them to leave.

The servants didn’t dare look further, placed the items, and left.

Xiao Cuan propped up his feet, took a wine cup, and drained it.

He gripped the wine cup, the veins on the back of his hand bulging, almost crushing it.

Yanzhi, that naughty and stupid little dog, was getting more and more temperamental, and his courage was growing too.

Now he even dared to cry and shout at him.

Clearly, he was the one who went wandering around and attracted a group of people in no time.

I only pinched him a couple of times; wasn’t he also quite comfortable?

Yet he felt wronged.

Xiao Cuan suddenly raised his hand and smashed the wine cup onto the ground, causing the officials to kneel again, as quiet as cicadas in winter.

Following that was a loud “bang.”

Xiao Cuan kicked over the table in front of him, and the wine, meat, and vessels scattered all over the ground.

The officials lowered their heads further, and the surrounding area grew even quieter.

Xiao Cuan stayed outside for less than fifteen minutes before returning to the tent.

When he returned, Yanzhi was still wrapped in a blanket, curled up and hiding in the corner of the couch.

Like a little mushroom hiding in a corner.

Xiao Cuan intentionally softened his footsteps. Yanzhi didn’t notice anyone entering, his head pressed against the corner of the couch, wiping tears while counting on his fingers, talking to himself.

“I wasn’t flirting. I just met two lost girls on the road and sent them back.”

“I didn’t pester Your Majesty for a tiger skin. It’s not cold in winter; I can just wear a few more layers.”

“I wasn’t fighting for favor. Your Majesty taught me to fight for favor, and bullied me when I didn’t learn.”

He was rehearsing.

He was always unable to speak in front of the Emperor, so he wanted to rehearse in advance, saying what he wanted to say several times.

Xiao Cuan stood behind him with his arms crossed, his hunting gaze fixed on him.

Stupid beyond measure.

Xiao Cuan watched him for a while, then turned and went out again.

The servants outside were clearing the mess, and the officials were also preparing to return to their tents.

Xiao Cuan returned to his seat, sat down again, and said coldly: “I didn’t say the banquet was over; what are you in such a hurry to leave for?”

So everyone hurriedly turned back, sitting as if on a bed of nails.

A bonfire was lit in the center of the clearing, and the officials sat on both sides of it.

The Emperor leaned against a bolster with his arms crossed, his expression still dark.

Like lightning and thunder, a violent storm.

*

After who knows how long, a servant lifted the flap and entered the main tent.

“Master Yanzhi, His Majesty told us to bring some things over.”

Yanzhi hurriedly wiped his eyes, clutched the blanket, and looked back.

Two servants held trays, placing items one by one on the table by the couch.

A bowl of pure white milk, a bowl of meat porridge cooked until very soft with eggs added, and a clear-stewed chicken leg.

Yanzhi quietly cleared his throat, trying hard to suppress the sob in his voice, and thanked them softly: “Thank you for the trouble.”

“His Majesty ordered that Master Yanzhi must finish everything.”

“I will,” Yanzhi nodded.

The servants left, and Yanzhi picked up the milk and took a sip.

After running around outside all day, he was indeed hungry—so hungry his stomach even hurt a little.

As the warm milk went down, he felt better.

But this time, the milk seemed different from what he had before.

This bowl of milk wasn’t fishy at all; it smelled fragrant and tasted sweet, as if honey had been added.

Yanzhi was overly hungry and tired. With the bowl of milk, he ate half a bowl of meat porridge and couldn’t eat anymore.

He put the things aside, sat on the couch with his legs tucked, and waited for the Emperor to return.

Just now he couldn’t speak, but now he had the strength. He must make things clear.

The Emperor always wronged him and bullied him for things he hadn’t done.

He didn’t want that.

He didn’t want it to be like this anymore.

He was going to make things clear; he wanted the Emperor to listen to him.

He didn’t expect an apology from the Emperor; he only wanted the Emperor to know that he was wrong.

It was clearly the Emperor who was wrong!

Thinking this, hope gradually ignited in Yanzhi’s heart, and he felt some strength in his body.

But…

Outside the tent, the firelight flickered, and shadows passed by.

The moon reached the zenith, and the surrounding area was silent, as if he were the only person left in the world.

Yanzhi just sat there and waited, waiting and waiting.

He waited for a long, long time, but the banquet never ended and the Emperor didn’t return.

The Emperor didn’t seem to be coming back.

Yanzhi lowered his head, his body tilted, and finally fell onto the couch, sound asleep.

After who knows how long, while Yanzhi was sleeping in a daze, he vaguely felt someone walk to the couch and casually knock over the bowls and plates he had left by the side.

The man let out a cold snort and said in a low voice: “You certainly know what’s good. All the sweet milk I exchanged from the shop is finished, and the rest isn’t even touched. Sleeping when full, eating when awake.”

Following that, the couch beside Yanzhi sank.

The man lay down beside him, grabbed his collar, and pressed him into his embrace.

Yanzhi struggled in his sleep, his mouth faster than his brain, reciting the words he had prepared.

“I didn’t… didn’t seduce others… didn’t fight for favor…”

But the man reached out, covered his mouth, and messily wiped his face.

“Shut up and sleep.”