In the small flower hall of the side courtyard stood a brazier, left there from who knows which year or month. Though it looked somewhat aged, it was still usable after being cleaned.
Yun Mo brought an iron fork and wire grill from the kitchen, placing several pieces of charcoal in the stove and lighting them.
On the square table nearby were several plates holding sliced quail meat and seasoning powder. Su Muyao picked up a piece of quail leg meat with her chopsticks and placed it on the wire grill. As soon as it touched the surface, a sizzling sound came from the stove. In no time, the outer skin of the meat turned golden brown, and Su Muyao quickly flipped it over.
Once cooked, she blew on it and, too eager to even dip it in seasoning, took a bite. The long-missed aroma of meat filled her mouth, and Su Muyao couldn’t help but squint her eyes in satisfaction.
Mmm, so delicious!
Back in modern times, accustomed to all kinds of delicacies, she hadn’t realized how important eating meat was to her. But ever since arriving in ancient times, for nearly half a month, every meal had been plain porridge, steamed buns, and simple side dishes. Her craving for meat had almost reached its peak.
Outside, heavy snow swirled, while inside the room, besides the brazier, several charcoal basins were placed around, making even the air warm and cozy. Su Muyao and Yun Mo ate piece after piece of roasted quail meat with great relish.
The warmth made both their cheeks flush red. Su Muyao wiped the fine sweat from her forehead and pushed open the window behind her to let in some fresh air.
A rush of cold air poured in, and Su Muyao immediately felt much more comfortable.
Feeling a bit tired from eating, she leaned back into the reclining chair, holding a cup of hot tea in her hand. She sipped the tea while resting.
On the thousand-year-old pine tree outside the window, a pair of golden-green eyes stared down at Su Muyao from above, sharp and intimidating.
Su Muyao, facing sideways toward the window, naturally didn’t notice, but Yun Mo saw it. A piece of fragrant roasted quail meat slipped from her chopsticks. Swallowing hard, she said fearfully, “Miss, look outside…”
Seeing the timid expression on Yun Mo’s face, Su Muyao was puzzled. Following her gaze, she paused for a moment, then smiled.
What was it? Just a big bird.
To be precise, an adult falcon.
This falcon was larger than ordinary ones, its body about half a meter long. The pine branch it stood on was completely bent under its weight, but it remained calm and indifferent.
Though the falcon exuded an overwhelming presence, it was of an unknown breed and rather handsome in appearance.
Its sharp beak and clawed feet were black and hook-shaped, extremely sharp. Its entire body was white, with only its wings and tail adorned with dark circular spots. Long strands of downy feathers swayed in the wind and snow.
Su Muyao could roughly guess its purpose.
With the icy, snowy conditions outside, it must have been unable to catch prey. By chance, it caught the scent of their roasted meat and was drawn here.
They still had plenty of leftover quail meat, so giving it a few pieces wouldn’t hurt.
Su Muyao sat up, placed her teacup on the table, picked up a piece of raw meat from the plate with her chopsticks, and extended it out the window. She waved it in the falcon’s line of sight before tossing it into the air.
For a long moment, the falcon remained motionless, staring intently at her, its eyes tinged with annoyance.
It seemed to say, “How dare this person treat me so casually?”
Su Muyao couldn’t read a bird’s expression, and even if she could, she wouldn’t have cared.
Seeing that the eagle was being rather ungrateful, she rose from the recliner and went to close the window. Just as her hand touched the window frame, the eagle seemed to sense her intention. With a sweep of its wings, it shot into the room like a bolt of white lightning through the open window.
Su Muyao was startled, clutching her chest. When she turned back, the eagle was perched on the armrest of her recliner. Its large frame took up the entire chair.
Afraid it might attack her, Su Muyao quickly retreated a few steps until she was beside Yun Mo. Seeing Yun Mo standing there dumbstruck and motionless, Su Muyao grew anxious. Keeping a wary eye on the large eagle nearby, she nudged Yun Mo and whispered urgently, "I'll keep watch here. You go to the backyard and fetch a stick."
She intended to drive it away with the stick.
Yun Mo snapped out of her daze and quickly said, "Miss, you can't hit it."
What did she mean? Su Muyao was puzzled.
Yun Mo explained, "It's a Haidongqing."
A Haidongqing?
Su Muyao searched the recesses of her memory for this term.
Its appearance did indeed resemble a Haidongqing.
In that case, she couldn't use force.
The Haidongqing, a type of hunting falcon, is called "Xiong Kulu" in Manchu, meaning "the fastest and highest-flying eagle in the world."
It holds an extremely high status in the hearts of the Manchu people, revered as the totem of their ancestors and honored as the god of all eagles.
However, its numbers are exceedingly scarce.
In the current dynasty, ordinary people are not permitted to own a Haidongqing. All Haidongqing must be presented as tribute to the imperial family. In coastal regions, if a criminal could capture a Haidongqing and offer it, they could be exempted from the death penalty.
In the eyes of the Qing people, the value of a Haidongqing far exceeds that of a human life.
Historically, there is a famous "Falcon Death Incident." In the fifty-third year of Kangxi's reign, Yinsi (the former Eighth Prince) selected two superior Haidongqing to present to Kangxi. However, by the time they reached Kangxi, the falcons were on the verge of death. Kangxi was furious, believing Yinsi was cursing him and accusing him of filial impiety, declaring, "From now on, the bond of father and son between me and Yinsi is severed." It is said that Yinsi's imperial ambitions were shattered from that moment.①
No wonder Yun Mo had been stunned into stillness when she saw it earlier.
But why would such a precious Haidongqing appear in her desolate Qianxi Sisuo?
Could someone be using a valuable Haidongqing to frame her, a former imperial consort candidate of the late emperor? Impossible.
Su Muyao dismissed various conspiracy theories and concluded that it must have flown out on its own from the palace's Falconry Office.
If that were the case, then there was nothing to worry about.
There was no need to drive it away either. If it became startled and injured her or Yun Mo, they would have no recourse.
This Haidongqing had likely been drawn here by the aroma of the roasted meat. Once it had eaten its fill, it would naturally fly away.
Being artificially raised, though large in size, there was no real need to fear it.
With this thought, Su Muyao regained her composure. She moved another chair and sat down, taking a clean plate. She picked a few pieces of fragrant, oil-dripping roasted quail from the stove, fanned away the heat with a palm-leaf fan, and placed it before the Haidongqing, saying softly, "Go ahead and eat."
She then told Yun Mo to sit as well, saying, "Sit down. Let it eat its meal, and we'll eat ours."
The Haidongqing indeed picked up the meat from the plate and ate, though it finished quickly, devouring the pieces in just a few bites.
After finishing its meal, it looked up at Su Muyao, stretched its neck straight, and let out a clear, powerful cry.
Without turning to look at it, Su Muyao said calmly, "Don’t rush. I’m grilling more right now. How can you eat so much?"
As she spoke, she picked up a freshly grilled piece of meat, blew on it to cool it down, and placed it on the eagle’s plate. Whether it understood or not, she reminded it, "Be careful, it’s hot."
She was treating the majestic eagle like a house cat.
But eagles do share many similarities with cats—both are carnivorous hunters, both are solitary by nature, and both possess strong curiosity.
The only differences lie in their appearance: one soars through the sky, while the other runs across the land.
Su Muyao didn’t just feed the eagle; she would eat two or three pieces of meat herself before giving it one. Over time, the Haidongqing noticed this and decided to fly from the lounge chair to the table. It lowered its head and pecked at the seasoning dish Su Muyao was dipping her meat into, immediately choking on the spicy pepper powder. Shaking its head and flapping its wings, it hopped onto Su Muyao’s lap.
Su Muyao gave her leg a slight shake, but seeing that it refused to fly away, she sighed helplessly, "Be careful not to tear my clothes with your talons."
The Haidongqing let out another clear cry, though it was unclear whether it was agreeing or urging her to feed it more meat.
Such a majestic and beautiful eagle—it looked so tempting to touch.
Su Muyao glanced at it from the corner of her eye and couldn’t resist. Her fingers twitched, and she gently stroked the feathers on its back.
Seeing that the Haidongqing didn’t react, she grew bolder, placing her hand fully on its back and stroking it gently, one stroke after another. Finally, the eagle sensed something was off and looked up at her, letting out a dissatisfied cry. Su Muyao quickly wrapped a piece of grilled meat in a handkerchief and placed it in front of the eagle.
This trick worked perfectly. The Haidongqing’s attention was successfully diverted to the meat in front of it, and it no longer cared about the hand stroking its back.
The seven or eight quails she had managed to catch the day before were mostly eaten by this Haidongqing. After finishing its meal, it smacked its beak as if still craving more, nestling in Su Muyao’s arms for a while. Only when it was certain there was no more delicious grilled meat did it spread its wings and fly out through the window.
In the blink of an eye, it disappeared from sight.
Su Muyao had thought it was just a one-time meal, but to her surprise, for the next four or five days, every day at dusk, this Haidongqing would fly over for a meal.
The problem was, if Su Muyao didn’t feed it, the eagle refused to leave.
Even if they were a little late with their meal, it would wait on a tree branch. Occasionally, if it grew impatient, it would call out to Su Muyao.
Su Muyao had once heard of a method for taming hunting eagles called "eagle taming by endurance," where the eagle’s talons were tied to a rope to prevent it from sleeping. The tamer would compete with the eagle in endurance, and once the eagle could no longer hold on and collapsed, the taming was considered successful.
However, during this process, the tamer also had to prepare for days and nights without eating, drinking, or sleeping to psychologically conquer the eagle.
Because of this, Su Muyao knew that eagles possessed remarkable endurance, but she never imagined she would have the chance to experience it firsthand in her lifetime.
And this wasn’t a case of a person taming an eagle—it was clearly an eagle taming a person.
Ever since this Haidongqing had its first grilled meat at her place, it seemed to have latched onto her. Every day at dusk, the eagle would descend from the sky, perch on a tree branch in their Qianxi Sisuo, and wait for its meal.
The problem was, this Haidongqing had a voracious appetite, capable of devouring two turtledoves or four to five quails in one meal. While providing it with a single meal was manageable, how could Su Muyao possibly be willing to feed it every day? Even if she wanted to, she simply couldn’t afford it!
Catching birds with bamboo traps was an uncertain endeavor to begin with. The best harvests came during snowy days, but as February approached, the weather was gradually clearing up. Su Muyao had originally planned to catch more turtledoves and quails to raise—birds laying eggs, eggs hatching into birds—so that she could have a steady supply of turtledove and quail meat.
But ever since this "ancestor" arrived, not only did it clean out every plate and bowl, it was also shrewd enough to seemingly detect the scent of turtledoves and quails in the house. It probably suspected they were secretly hiding delicious food and planning to eat behind its back.
So after finishing its meal, it refused to leave. Its sharp, piercing eyes would fix intently on Su Muyao, and no matter what she did, it would follow her around.
If Su Muyao shut it outside the window, it would keep calling out, unwilling to stop even if its voice grew hoarse.
Su Muyao found it annoying, but in the end, she couldn’t bear to be too harsh.
Her plan to secretly raise birds behind its back was completely ruined.
A family that had only just become prosperous for two days was once again reduced to poverty because of its arrival.