The fact that the Imperial Preceptor and the Commander of the Imperial Guards had pledged their lives before the Emperor was now common knowledge throughout the court. Everyone knew how much the Sovereign valued this imperial hunt, but few had expected the stakes to be quite this high.
Early the next morning, Ruan Jinyu rose much earlier than usual. He was to depart with the main procession, and since he was tasked with accompanying Shen Changlang’s advance guard, he had to be at the training grounds at daybreak.
The main body of the Imperial Guards had already departed the previous day. Today, Shen Changlang led a small elite unit as the “vanguard” to scout the path and clear the roads for the imperial carriage. Ruan Jinyu rode alongside them.
“I didn’t expect the Preceptor to personally join me for this leg of the journey,” Shen remarked.
They were traveling on horseback at a moderate pace, giving Shen enough leisure to tease his companion. Ruan Jinyu held the reins firmly; although his grip looked strong, his fingers were unnaturally pale—a result of not having practiced martial arts or physical training for a long time.
The man on the horse remained expressionless, his demeanor as still as a statue. He didn’t take offense at Shen’s jab, replying solemnly, “It is my duty.”
Shen Changlang didn’t believe the “righteous” response matched Ruan Jinyu’s true thoughts. He gave a mental huff, thinking the Preceptor was a total hypocrite, and fell silent. He found the man quite dull.
The hunt was held, unsurprisingly, at the Royal Hunting Grounds in the northern outskirts of the Capital. It was a massive estate, chosen for its ideal natural conditions and historical precedent. Because the primary purpose this year was military recruitment, the guest list was even broader than usual, making the scale and pomp of the event grander than ever before.
Once they had settled into the camp, protocol dictated that the Emperor lead a sacrificial rite to Heaven and the Ancestors to pray for a successful hunt. However, Yan Yan vetoed the idea immediately. The sacrificial ceremony was canceled.
The ministers were naturally dissatisfied, as the rite represented both tradition and good fortune. But the Emperor was firm, and given his fearsome reputation, no one dared to cross him. Ruan Jinyu did not share the ministers’ concerns; he made no attempt to petition the Emperor, acting as if the matter had nothing to do with him.
As Shen Changlang was eyeing Ruan Jinyu from head to toe—likely judging his indifference—Eunuch Hong En arrived. He summoned Ruan Jinyu to the Emperor’s presence.
Ruan Jinyu turned his head as he left and saw Shen Changlang giving him a look of utter disdain that said, “I knew this would happen.” Ruan Jinyu felt a wave of helplessness.
Inside Yan Yan’s tent, the Emperor stood tall at his desk, his hand moving with a powerful, commanding sweep of the brush. He had summoned Ruan Jinyu but said nothing for a long while. He simply motioned for him to sit. Since the Emperor was still standing, Ruan Jinyu didn’t feel it was proper to sit alone, so he remained standing in the middle of the tent.
They were alone, and the silence was total.
“Come here,” Yan Yan said. His eyes were still on the paper, his brush now still.
Ruan Jinyu responded to the voice. Though he knew they were the only two people in the tent and the command was meant for him, he hesitated for a beat before stepping forward. He stopped a few paces away from the desk. Yan Yan didn’t look up immediately, but slowly raised his eyes. “Why does Teacher stand so far away?”
“Come closer,” Yan Yan repeated.
Ruan Jinyu took two more steps until he could clearly see what was on the desk. He took one look and quickly averted his eyes. If he hadn’t misjudged it, there was a map laid out on the table. Knowing that maps were outside his direct duties, he made sure not to linger on it.
“Teacher, guess what I shall bag with my first shot today?”
Ruan Jinyu’s answer was instantaneous. “Surely even a great eagle of the nine heavens would be no match for Your Majesty.”
Yan Yan didn’t mock him for the “empty flattery” as Shen Changlang might have. Instead, he gave a light laugh. It was unclear if he actually believed the insincere praise, but he didn’t pursue it. Ruan Jinyu took that as a win.
“Teacher, look at this map of the hunting grounds.”
Ruan Jinyu finally looked. It was indeed a map, though not a large one; it covered only the hunting estate. The grounds were vast, divided into several sectors: the encampment with its pavilions and rest areas for the royals; the main hunting zone; and the area for breeding and keeping the game.
The map wasn’t detailed, but it bore the Emperor’s brush marks—mostly lines and paths. Ruan Jinyu couldn’t make sense of their meaning.
Then, Yan Yan asked a very strange question. “Teacher, of these three areas, which do you think is most likely to collapse?”
Ruan Jinyu answered honestly, “This servant does not understand.”
Yan Yan laughed. “No matter. I was merely thinking… if there were to be a disturbance during this hunt…”
He trailed off. Ruan Jinyu felt a jolt of alarm. A disturbance? If something went wrong, he was the one who had pledged his life! Was the Emperor hinting at something?
Ruan Jinyu steadied his nerves, his face remaining calm. “A disturbance is not a certainty, yet Your Majesty’s concern is my own worry. Please rest easy.”
“However,” Ruan Jinyu added, stealing a glance at him, “this trip is ultimately in the hands of fate.”
Yan Yan didn’t seem to mind the implication. He nodded, his head turned so that his smile was hidden, but his expression showed no trace of anger.
A eunuch entered to announce that Consort Qin had arrived. Ruan Jinyu seized the opportunity and requested to withdraw before the Emperor could even speak. Yan Yan didn’t stop him.
Just as he reached the tent flap, a voice sounded from behind:
“The weather is not great today. Perhaps I won’t bag that great eagle of the nine heavens after all.” The voice carried its usual majesty but also a rare touch of casualness. “I think I shall shoot a wild rabbit for Teacher to see instead.”
Ruan Jinyu emerged and squinted at the bright, cloudless sky for a long time. He couldn’t understand what the Emperor had meant.
Shen Changlang arrived to find him staring blankly at nothing. “Are you praying for rain so you can slack off?”
Ruan Jinyu rubbed his eyelids. He had been staring at the sun for too long and his vision was blurry. He didn’t need to look to know who was speaking. Shen’s commentary was becoming increasingly difficult to handle.
“The sky is quite clear today,” Ruan Jinyu replied. He turned and looked directly at Shen. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Shen was silent for a moment, a look of contempt flashing in his eyes. He raised an eyebrow. “They say the high walls are hard to leap. You truly are a victim of your own choices.”
Ruan Jinyu blinked, taking a second to parse the meaning. Shen was mocking him for being a “caged bird” in the palace, so used to the high walls that the open sky looked strange to him. Ruan Jinyu didn’t bother explaining; he simply sighed and moved on. “It will begin shortly.”
Shen Changlang watched him walk away before following with long strides. Although the Emperor had told Ruan Jinyu to assist Shen, these minor logistical tasks shouldn’t have been his burden. But since their lives were on the line, Ruan Jinyu had insisted on staying by Shen’s side for the preparations.
The hunt was centered around the Hawk-Training Platform. A ring of tents had been set up around it; the largest and most elegant at the front were for the consorts and princes. Behind them were the tents for noble families and officials. It was a bustling, lively scene.
The hunt began with the Emperor’s first shot.
Yan Yan rode onto the open ground below the platform. The people in the tents on either side could see the Son of Heaven clearly. As the Imperial Preceptor, Ruan Jinyu was entitled to watch from the Emperor’s own tent, but he chose to stay at the outermost edge with Shen Changlang to ensure security.
The Sovereign spurred his horse forward. The first arrow was let fly.