Yun Zhao moved with lightning speed, reaching out to steady her.
“A martial artist?” He looked down at her, his brow still furrowed but his tone carrying a hint of teasing. “Seems like you’ve practiced your skills on cotton wool.”
Embarrassed by his comment, Shen Xi shot back: “What’s wrong with that? I’ve only just recovered from a serious illness—naturally my strength is still low.”
It wasn’t just a retort—she truly felt as if all her strength had drained away. The physician’s warning suddenly flashed through her mind: those recovering from serious illness should avoid strenuous activity or strong emotions. After all the running and falling just now, her limbs felt light and unsteady.
“Just recovered and you still go ramming into people’s ribs? Do you want to undo your recovery that quickly?”
Shen Xi was left speechless, opening her mouth to defend herself only to be hit by a wave of dizziness. The world went dark before her eyes, and she instinctively grabbed his sleeve.
The teasing vanished from Yun Zhao’s face instantly, his brow tightening sharply. Before Shen Xi could react, his arm had slipped securely behind her knees and neck, lifting her into his arms in a bridal carry.
Shen Xi cried out in surprise, wrapping her arms around his neck instinctively and clutching his robes so tightly her knuckles turned white.
“What are you doing!” Alarm colored her voice. As she struggled, stray strands of hair brushed against his jaw, causing his grip to tighten slightly.
“If you can walk on your own, I’ll put you down,” Yun Zhao’s voice was steady as ever. “Loosen your hold—do you want to tear my clothes?”
Shen Xi was silenced, though she loosened her grip slowly, her fingertips still clinging to his robes like a lifeline. She could feel the solid strength of his arms supporting her knees, holding her securely against him.
“Your Highness… really, I just need to rest for a while on my feet.”
Yun Zhao glanced down at her briefly before replying calmly: “Rest where? If the great Miss Shen faints halfway back, I’ll never hear the end of it from your brother.”
So that’s why he’s being so kind today—it must be my brother’s doing.
Understanding dawned on Shen Xi, and she relaxed. Her brother must have spoken to Yun Zhao privately before the hunt—otherwise, with his usual cold and distant demeanor, he would never have been so considerate.
Yun Zhao continued walking, his voice giving nothing away: “Your brother said if you return from the hunting grounds with so much as a scratch, he’ll be claiming my gilded bow—you know, the one presented as tribute from the Western Regions.”
Shen Xi’s eyebrows twitched. Typical of my brother—first he took my Treading Snow, now he’s scheming for Yun Zhao’s gilded bow. He truly never misses a chance to gain something! She huffed softly: “All his cleverness goes into things like this. I even lent him Treading Snow!”
The more she thought about it, the angrier she became, pinching his robes hard with her fingertips: “I’ll tell Brother to return Treading Snow to me—and ‘borrow’ your gilded bow while he’s at it!”
Yun Zhao paused mid-step, his voice deepening: “What? Are you and Shen Mo conspiring to swindle me?”
“Hahaha—w-what ever gave you that idea?” Caught out, Shen Xi scrambled to recover with a forced laugh. “I’m just standing up for you! It’s not right of him to take advantage like that…”
Before she could finish, she suddenly remembered their earlier contest and quickly changed the subject, looking up at him: “By the way—who actually won our archery match?”
Yun Zhao looked down at her, his eyelashes casting soft shadows under his eyes. “It was a draw.”
Shen Xi’s eyes lit up, her embarrassment fading away as even her dizziness seemed to ease a little: “I knew it! My last arrow landed just before yours—it should have counted as mine.”
She had always been confident in her archery skills. Hearing him say it was a draw, she unconsciously straightened her back, her voice bubbling with excitement.
Relief washed over her. Thank goodness I didn’t lose—with how mischievous he can be, he’d never let me live it down.
Yun Zhao raised an eyebrow, his tone growing more mocking: “In terms of quantity: you have five hares and five pheasants. I have five hares, three pheasants, and two deer. Do you still think it was a draw?”
Knowing her archery couldn’t match his, and with him still carrying her, she didn’t dare provoke him for fear of being dropped. Her competitive spirit deflated instantly as she mumbled: “Naturally… Your Highness won.”
“Feeling better now?” Yun Zhao looked down at her, his tone neutral, though his arms loosened slightly.
Shen Xi nodded immediately, moving to get down: “Thank you for carrying me this far—I can walk on my own now.”
She had barely sat up half an inch when he gently pressed her back down. Looking down at her, his eyelashes brushing her forehead, his voice gave no hint of his mood: “Stay still until you’re steady on your feet.”
Shen Xi shrank back at his touch, not daring to struggle further as she muttered quietly: “I really am fine now…”
The sun grew stronger over the hunting grounds, though a cool breeze stirred in the shade, making her nose itch. She stole a glance at him—his jaw was set firm, and though his hold had loosened, it remained steady and secure.
Yun Zhao’s steps suddenly halted. Before Shen Xi could wonder why, his arm around her waist loosened as he carefully set her down on her feet, steadying her with his hand on her arm.
She hadn’t had time to respond when the corner of her eye caught a flash of white moving through the bushes to her right—a white fox, its tail brushing through the leaves with a soft rustle as it watched them warily.
Shen Xi instinctively held her breath, turning to look at Yun Zhao. He had already reached for his bow, his thumb rubbing over the arrowhead as his eyes grew cold and focused.
Wind rustled through the leaves, and the fox seemed to sense an opportunity, letting out a faint whimper as its amber eyes fixed on Shen Xi.
As the white shape paused in the bushes, Shen Xi saw that its left hind leg was stained dark red with blood, the crimson trail dripping down its leg to stain the grass below. It swayed unsteadily, clearly in pain, letting out another soft whimper as panic filled its amber eyes.
Almost instinctively, she reached out to stop his hand from drawing the bow: “Don’t shoot it.”
Her hand rested lightly but firmly on his, its gentle pressure carrying an undercurrent of stubbornness. He turned to look at her: “You’re stopping me?”
His gaze made her heart skip a beat, but she didn’t pull away, pressing her hand more firmly against his: “It’s hurt…”
Before she could finish, there was a soft whoosh. Shen Xi flinched and closed her eyes, but when she opened them again, an arrow was embedded in the earth just half a foot in front of the fox, its fletching trembling slightly.
The fox froze in terror, its intended retreat cut short as its amber eyes widened to round circles. It swallowed its whimper, trembling uncontrollably where it stood.
“Now it won’t run off,” Yun Zhao said as he lowered his bow, his tone casual.
Realizing he had only meant to scare the fox, Shen Xi relaxed and crouched down, speaking softly to it: “Don’t be afraid—I won’t hurt you.”
She moved forward slowly, and when the fox remained still, she carefully lifted its front paws, gathering the fluffy little creature into her arms.
Though still trembling, the fox curled obediently in her arms, nuzzling her sleeve as if seeking favor. Shen Xi stroked its snow-white fur gently.
Yun Zhao glanced at the fox huddled in her arms, then at how carefully she held it. He unfastened a small medicine jar from his waist and tossed it to her: “Take care of it yourself.”
Catching the jar, Shen Xi’s eyes brightened: “Thank you, Your Highness.”
Finding a clean handkerchief, she dipped it lightly in water to gently clean the blood from the fox’s leg, then applied some ointment with careful, gentle movements before wrapping the wound loosely.
The fox seemed to feel better, letting out soft purring sounds as its tail tip brushed lightly against her wrist. The warmth in her arms melted her heart—it was like holding a tiny stove.
She stole a glance at Yun Zhao’s back, suddenly realizing that the arrow he’d shot hadn’t been meant to hit the fox at all.
Sensing her gaze, Yun Zhao paused slightly but didn’t turn around, only saying quietly: “Are we going or not?”
Shen Xi quickly replied “Let’s go,” hurrying to catch up with the fox held securely in her arms. The little creature had clearly relaxed completely now, its purring growing louder as it snuggled against her arm, chasing away the afternoon chill in the hunting grounds.
Yun Zhao paused briefly, turning his head to look at her.
The wind lifted strands of hair from her temples. The fox curled in her arms was like a snowball resting against her crimson silk skirt, its soft fur brushing against the fabric and creating tiny ripples that made the red seem even more vibrant.