"Third… Brother?"
Yun Chuhuan turned around and immediately caught sight of the Third Prince, dressed in eye-catching, flamboyant attire atop a tall steed. Instinctively, he shifted his body in front of Liu Ziming, trying to block the view of what the boy held in his arms.
"What are you doing here at this hour?"
The Third Prince was known for his lazy, fun-loving nature. Back when he still lived in the palace, he was a walking disaster, always causing trouble wherever he went. Ever since being sent outside the palace, he'd only become more unruly—idling about the city, teasing cats and dogs like a man with nothing better to do.
To rein him in, Emperor Xuanwu had appointed him to the Honglu Temple, a government office known for its light duties and ceremonial functions. It wasn't an important post, but it came with just enough responsibility to tether him in place.
Logically, the Third Prince should be at the temple right now, handling those light affairs. Not… suddenly appearing here, right behind him.
"Look at you, all jumpy. What, afraid I'll steal your toys?"
Noticing Yun Chuhuan's wary eyes, the Third Prince nearly burst into laughter.
"I just happened to pass by on my way to handle some business and saw you here, so I thought I'd say hello."
As he spoke, he glanced again at Yun Chuhuan, this time with open curiosity.
"Since when did you start caring about cheap little trinkets like these? Just a few days ago, I gave you that Yaolin Jade Flute, and you didn't even look twice at it."
The Yaolin Jade Flute he mentioned had been the prize he wagered—and lost—during the autumn hunt.
Back then, the Third Prince was confident he'd easily take third place. So confident, in fact, that he goaded everyone into putting up a bet.
But to his dismay, this year's hunt was especially fierce. The Crown Prince was eliminated early. Yun Shu dug a pit and secured first place. Yun Chuhuan clung to her like a lifeline and scraped into second. The ever-confident Crown Prince landed in third.
As for the Third Prince—he missed the podium by a hair and landed squarely in fourth.
He'd been heartbroken when he had to hand over the Yaolin Jade Flute. What made it worse was that Yun Chuhuan, the ungrateful brat who had seen too many treasures in his life, casually tossed the exquisite flute to a young eunuch. No one even knew where it ended up.
Compared to that, Yun Chuhuan's behavior now was… strange. Very strange.
Could it be—
The Third Prince leaned sideways from his saddle, craning his neck to peer around Yun Chuhuan in an attempt to see what Liu Ziming was holding.
But Yun Chuhuan was guarding him like a thief. Wherever the Third Prince leaned, he shifted to block, firmly refusing to let him get even a glimpse.
"Tch."
The Third Prince's curiosity only grew.
"What are you hiding? Is it some rare treasure? You won't even let me have a look?"
"There's nothing valuable here."
Yun Chuhuan scowled, visibly annoyed.
"Don't you have business to take care of?"
"It can wait a little."
For someone like the Third Prince—who lived for amusement—the more secretive Yun Chuhuan became, the more determined he was to poke his nose in.
Fortunately, after a short standoff, Yun Chuhuan finally realized something critical.
This wasn't Yun Shu.
The Third Prince didn't know that Imperial Father enjoyed these kinds of strange little trinkets.
As soon as that thought hit him, Yun Chuhuan relaxed. He stepped aside, letting Liu Ziming come into full view. Still, his expression remained as sour as ever.
"Fine, look all you want. It's just a bunch of worthless junk. Altogether, it cost less than three taels of silver. I only bought them for fun. I wouldn't even let people see them if I could help it, and here you are making such a fuss."
So that was it—he was embarrassed because he thought they were cheap junk?
That explanation was very Yun Chuhuan, and the Third Prince didn't doubt it for a second. He chuckled and teased:
"What's there to be ashamed of? I think that mask of yours is rather interesting. Since you're not planning to keep it, why not give it to me?"
"Take it, take it!"
It was only five wen for a paper mask. He could just buy another one later.
Yun Chuhuan impatiently tossed the mask over.
"Now go away!"
"Is that how you talk to your older brother?"
The Third Prince grinned shamelessly, completely unfazed. With the mask in hand, he waved lazily and trotted off on horseback.
"Consider this your apology gift to me."
Yun Chuhuan muttered under his breath.
Apology gift? Nonsense. Who was apologizing?
With an annoyed snort, he turned back to Liu Ziming.
"Come on. We're buying another mask."
"…Alright."
Meanwhile, the Third Prince, after having his fun with Yun Chuhuan, continued on to the palace and entered the imperial court to see Emperor Xuanwu.
"What is that in your hand?"
As the Third Prince finished paying his respects, Emperor Xuanwu raised his head and spotted the mask dangling from his finger. His brows immediately furrowed.
"Did We not tell you to remain in the Honglu Temple and attend your duties properly? You've been sneaking off to play again, haven't you?"
"Father Emperor, you wrong your son!"
The Third Prince flashed a wide grin and pulled a scroll from his robes.
"With the Wanshou Festival approaching, Bei Xiang has sent another official document. I was on my way to present it when I happened to run into Sixth Brother."
He then recounted the entire encounter in vivid detail—including Yun Chuhuan's muttered complaints about "junk" and how "embarrassed" he was—without leaving out a single word.
"…It's the first time Sixth Brother has given me a gift without it being his birthday or some other occasion. It wouldn't be right to just throw it away."
Emperor Xuanwu stared at him in silence.
You clearly forced him to hand it over.
He didn't bother scolding the irredeemably shameless Third Prince. Instead, he opened the scroll with an air of disinterest—just a cursory glance, the same as every year.
But as his eyes moved across the document, his expression darkened. A sharp, angry glint sparked in his gaze.
"Does Bei Xiang truly think Tian Sheng is a kingdom without men?"
Startled, the Third Prince immediately stood up straight, falling silent as he tried to blend into the background.
Emperor Xuanwu was seething, far too enraged to explain.
More than twenty years ago, Bei Xiang had suffered defeat at the hands of the Tian Sheng Empire. As part of the peace treaty, they were bound to send annual tributes, including a thousand fine warhorses.
Up until this year, they had complied without issue.
Every year, before their envoys arrived to congratulate the Emperor during the Wanshou Festival, Bei Xiang would send a formal document listing their delegation members and the tribute they would bring.
This year's document should have been no different.
But it was.
This time, Bei Xiang claimed that due to internal troubles, they were unable to provide the required one thousand fine warhorses. Instead, they proposed to send one thousand retired warhorses as substitutes.
Bei Xiang sat atop vast grasslands. Even ordinary households there raised several horses each year. It was utterly impossible for them to be unable to gather just a thousand capable steeds.
Even if they had run into difficulties—what use were retired horses?
Did they think the Tian Sheng court would accept a pile of useless nags in place of proper tribute?
What use did We have for a thousand broken horses?