Chapter Fifty-Five: Give Me a Hug

“Give me Little White. You get on the horse first, then I’ll hand Little White to you, all right?” Lu Hu was completely at a loss under Quan Zhenzhu’s stubbornness. If anyone else dared to act so defiant, he would have thrown them out long ago.

“No, I won’t! I can’t sit steady holding Little White. I want to ride the big black horse, and I want to ride with my brother!” Quan Zhenzhu stamped her foot, unreasonably obstinate.

That suited him just fine, though he still had to put on a show of seriousness. “Well, that’s true. We can’t leave Little White behind. This is the only way, then.”

After he spoke, Lu Hu dismounted, gently wrapped his arm around Quan Zhenzhu’s slender waist, drew her into his embrace, and, with a light touch of his toes, leaped up onto the warhorse, carrying her effortlessly.

The surrounding guards broke into cheers!

Though Quan Zhenzhu was delicate and petite, the armor she wore weighed at least a hundred pounds. For someone to lift her so lightly onto a horse—besides a god, no ordinary person could possess such astonishing strength.

“Hyah!” As Lu Hu gave the command and tightened the reins, his legs squeezed the horse’s sides. The black steed neighed, flung out its hooves, and shot forward like an arrow.

Quan Meiyu spurred her horse to follow tightly behind.

“Ha! Hyah!” Yakeshi shouted, urging his horse to give chase.

Only then did the guards gallop after, surrounding and protecting their leaders.

Now that the god had finished his show, it was my turn to shine...

The white-headed eagle king let out a long, shrill cry, kicked off with its talons, and soared into the sky.

Its mate, not to be outdone, followed suit.

Ying Bangbang and Ying Qilai, taking advantage of the wind stirred up by their parents’ wings, ran a few steps, kicked off clumsily, flapped awkwardly with outstretched wings, and finally managed to lift themselves into the sky.

Cradling the warm, delicate girl in his arms, breathing in her intoxicating scent, Lu Hu felt his heart waver. He gently hummed an old song from his previous life into Quan Zhenzhu’s ear: “Hold her close, hold her tight, my little sister laughs till she bends at the waist…”

Swaying to the rhythm of the song in his arms, Quan Zhenzhu seemed drunk with happiness.

Was this really a hunting trip? It felt more like a lovers’ escapade!

Lu Hu let the horse wander, not bothering to steer. The big black horse, now burdened with two people, ran only across level ground, picking easy paths.

The snowfields stretched endlessly. What beast in its right mind would be foolish enough to wander out and let itself be caught so easily?

After riding aimlessly for quite some time, the horses neared exhaustion, their mouths frothing, yet not a single wild animal was seen.

Quan Meiyu simmered with frustration: all her skills had no opportunity to shine. She could only gallop through the open fields, watching her sister and her beloved as they whispered sweet nothings to each other…

It felt as if she had swallowed a whole onion; tears welled in her eyes despite herself.

Lu Hu, for his part, was greedy—enjoying what he had while still coveting more.

When he glanced back at the splash of red trailing behind, an odd feeling rose in his heart.

He stopped singing the song about “laughing till you bend at the waist,” and turned to Quan Meiyu with sincere concern: “Meiyu, are you crying? In this wind, be careful not to let your face get chapped.”

“Who’s crying? I’m not crying! Maybe you are!” Quan Meiyu retorted, her tone sharp and prickly.

“Then why are there tears in your eyes?”

“A bit of sand blew in. It’s irritating.”

“Whoa—” Lu Hu pulled the black horse to a halt.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Everyone reined in their horses.

“Come here, let me blow it out for you,” Lu Hu trotted his horse to her side, eager to help.

Quan Meiyu rubbed her eyes, blinked hard, and rolled her eyes sarcastically. “No need, don’t trouble yourself, Divine Lord. The sand’s gone, probably washed out by my tears.”

“Are your eyes still irritated?” Lu Hu pressed, still worried.

“They’re fine, not really irritated. Just tired,” she replied, rolling her eyes dramatically—a message within her words.

“Brother, hurry and find some wild animals! If this continues, I’ll suffocate from boredom,” Quan Zhenzhu turned around to urge him, her breath sweet, though her tone was tinged with jealousy.

“All right, all right, let’s keep going, keep searching.” Lu Hu, having comforted the elder, turned back to pamper the younger.

“Divine Lord, with our whole troop dashing around in the snow, if we just run without searching, any wild animals out there are probably hiding and watching us. Let’s head toward the mountains,” Quan Meiyu urged, not wanting to watch any more of this public display of affection.

“Yes, yes, good idea, Meiyu. You lead the way. Let’s drive the animals out of the hills,” Lu Hu put her in front, wanting to hold one in his arms, keep another in his sight, and have yet another in his heart…

Quan Meiyu spurred her horse and dashed ahead.

A pity, though—her slender waist and rounded hips were hidden beneath the armor.

Lu Hu clicked his tongue, filled with regret.

As they neared the mountains, wild animals began to appear.

Shi Zhenxiang, Shi Gengxiang, and other commanders led their companies in a drill, encircling and driving the animals. Amid the chaos, the startled beasts scattered in all directions. In their panic, some forgot to use the trees and undergrowth for cover and bolted straight onto the open snowy plains.

A wild hare hopped into view.

Quan Meiyu nocked an arrow, barely took aim, and let it fly.

The arrow whistled through the air, vanishing in an instant.

No one dared to cheer—it seemed she’d missed.

But the arrow suddenly appeared, bouncing a few times in the snow before coming to a rest.

“Bullseye! The Princess’s archery is superb!” the guards erupted in cheers.

They raced over. The wild hare lay on its back in the snow, the arrow buried deep in its split lips.

“Princess, what skill! Even knocked out its big front teeth,” Yakeshi said, holding up the dead rabbit by its ears.

“Excellent shot, Meiyu. Truly impressive,” Lu Hu gave a heartfelt thumbs-up.

“My sister has always been a crack shot,” Quan Zhenzhu declared proudly.

Quan Meiyu gave a cold snort and galloped off again.

“Spread out in a fan, encircle them…” Yakeshi began directing the group.

Entering the forested hills, more and more animals appeared, and most of the soldiers had success in the hunt.

Quan Meiyu bagged the most game of all.

When there was a lone animal, no one dared compete with her; the soldiers all deferred to her, letting her shoot to her heart’s content.

Only when there were many animals would others join in.

Quan Zhenzhu also shot a roe deer.

Silly roe deer! Mountain folk always use that term for the witless. When faced with danger, a roe deer runs but then, curiously, stops to look back after a few steps. Who knows what it expects to see—perhaps it’s just born with that kind of confidence. Unless it meets an even more foolish hunter, pausing like that is certain death.

Quan Zhenzhu gripped the bow with her left hand, nocked an arrow with her right, squinting one eye as she aimed.

Lu Hu, left hand on the bow, right hand drawing the string, both hands touching hers—he was doing all the work while she played along, soft and pliant in his arms, letting him draw and shoot for her.

Nevertheless, everyone credited the kill to Quan Zhenzhu.

When the roe deer fell, she clapped and cheered, almost dropping Little White, who sat cradled between her knees.

The soldiers around cheered and praised her enthusiastically…

Suddenly, a sharp cry from an eagle rang out from the sky above.