Chapter Sixty-Eight: What Nonsense King

Why is everyone staring behind me? Is there a halo of good fortune rising above my head, or has someone set up a royal canopy for me?

What on earth is going on? Just as Lu Hu was about to turn around, a pair of hands covered his eyes.

Soft and smooth as jade, with a subtle, enchanting fragrance drifting into his nose.

“Divine Lord, guess who I am?” The voice was like the sound of wind through the forest and water over stones—crisp, sweet, and melodious.

“You quietly cover my eyes and ask me to guess who you are. I rack my brains to guess, but who else could it be but you?” Lu Hu didn't need to guess; he already knew.

“Sister!” Quan Zhenzhu turned and, seeing who it was, was overjoyed. She put Xiaobai on the table and, bubbling with excitement, bounced out of Lu Hu’s arms.

She clasped Quan Meiyu’s arm with both hands, lively as a swallow, “Dear sister, please don’t make my brother guess any longer, all right? Don’t you miss your brother? Brother and Zhenzhu miss you so much!”

Lu Hu simply enjoyed holding Quan Meiyu’s delicate hand. Even when she tried to withdraw it, he clung tightly, reluctant to let go.

Guess who? My sweet little darling.

Quan Meiyu let him hold her soft little hand, and when she saw the infatuated look in his eyes, she smiled gently, “Brother, where should Meiyu sit?”

On my lap, of course! But with all these people here, you’ll have to sit on my left for now.

Quan Meiyu guessed what Lu Hu was thinking, and a blush instantly blossomed on her exquisitely beautiful face, like a blooming rhododendron.

Xiaobai, neglected on the table, started howling and pawed at the edge of the plate, trying to get at the meat.

A deer’s cry sounded at Quan Meiyu’s feet.

Huahua had been cooped up inside the Little Guanyin tent all afternoon. After finally getting some attention from its mistress, it now found itself back on the floor and was quite displeased.

Quan Meiyu stooped to pick up Huahua and sat it on her chair.

When Xiaobai saw Huahua, he abandoned his food and crawled to the edge of the table, eager to play.

Quan Meiyu brought Huahua’s head close to the edge, blocking Xiaobai’s advance.

“Why didn’t you play with me? I’ll give you a swipe with my paw…” Xiaobai bared his teeth, trying to intimidate Huahua.

Huahua couldn’t make sense of Xiaobai’s yowling: “You were gone all afternoon, leaving me all alone. I just want to butt you!”

Each chattered in their own language, but though their words were worlds apart, it didn’t seem to hinder their communication.

As they squabbled, their two little heads drew close together, looking as affectionate as could be.

A loving education must begin from childhood.

With proper guidance, even natural enemies can become good friends.

Lu Hu watched the two little creatures play, thoroughly entertained.

“Divine Lord, all the dishes are served,” Zhu Xiaoying reported with a bow.

There was no longer space for her and Ma Lihong at Lu Hu’s sides, so the two had to stand behind him.

“No need to worry about me. Pour wine for everyone at this table,” Lu Hu instructed, glancing back.

“Of course!” the two replied sweetly, opening the wine jar and filling each cup.

The centurions and the court officials from Changli had their own maids to serve them.

Lu Hu raised his amber goblet: “Let us drink together tonight, but no one is to get drunk. Tomorrow, the hunt continues—two days remain, so let us all do our best.”

He had barely lifted his cup when Shi Zhenxiang rose, cup in both hands, and bowed deeply, prompting the others at the table to scramble to their feet, each more respectful than the last.

As soon as Lu Hu finished speaking, Shi Zhenxiang bent in a full, one-hundred-degree bow, knocking his forehead against the table’s edge. “Of course!”

A chorus of “Of course!” echoed around the table as heads thumped against the wood.

Having previously displeased the Divine Lord, Shi Zhenxiang was anxious and determined to redeem himself.

Kneeling with his wine cup, he declared, “Divine Lord, we follow only you, our loyalty unwavering. We will win glory at your command!” With that, he downed his wine in one gulp.

Shi Zhenxiang spoke everyone’s mind; the centurions and ministers dared not say more. They finished their toast in silence.

Lu Hu smiled broadly and clinked glasses with Quan Dounan and Lady Guanyin, sipping elegantly. “Sit, eat, and be at ease! No need for so many formalities.”

He had done this to spare his future father- and mother-in-law from further embarrassment—so many kneeling and bowing, what would they do?

Lady Guanyin was unconcerned; she would soon be the Divine Lord’s mother-in-law, and surely the Divine Lord wouldn’t dare find fault with her. Besides, as a proper lady, she couldn’t keep kneeling and kowtowing as the men did.

But Quan Dounan gritted his teeth at Shi Zhenxiang, furious. What a sycophantic king—making such a spectacle of currying favor, putting me on the spot! Am I not still a monarch, even if I am a little down on my luck? My ancestors were once glorious, and a dead camel is still bigger than a horse. If I keep bowing and kneeling at every turn, I’ll be a laughingstock and disgrace my forebears.

He could not let these servants keep kneeling at will. Enough was enough.

He raised his cup and said, “The Divine Lord wishes us to gather in celebration—of yesterday’s victory, today’s achievements, and our bright future. Let us drink in unity and joy.”

He glanced at Lu Hu and, seeing no displeasure, relaxed.

Then he looked at Shi Zhenxiang and said, “Let us not be so bound by etiquette—too much ceremony only drives us apart. Let’s all mix together, eat and drink well, and enjoy ourselves!”

With that, he clinked his glass with Lu Hu’s and drained it.

Shi Zhenxiang dared not speak further. He watched the Divine Lord intently, eating when the Divine Lord ate, drinking when he drank.

Follow the Divine Lord, and you can’t go wrong.

The Divine Lord exchanged glances with the beauties at his sides, feeding and being fed in turn, growing ever more intimate.

This left Shi Zhenxiang in a bind.

On his left sat Quan Meiyu—he wouldn’t dare look her in the eye if you gave him ten lives.

On his right was Yakeshi, and a flirtatious glance there might quickly escalate into trouble.

He could only accept his misfortune—such is the fate of not being a god!

He would have to work harder, and when he finally had his own domain, he would surround himself with beauties who would feed and serve him, accompany him at night…

As the wine flowed and the Divine Lord flirted, the others relaxed, chatting in pairs, boasting and bantering, forging bonds.

The great tent grew lively.

Suddenly, a tiger’s roar came from behind the tent.

It was Lingding Xiao Wu, reporting, “Divine Lord, a stranger carrying meat requests entry.”

“Let him in,” Lu Hu replied in tiger tongue.

Soon, a chubby man, dressed in oversized clothes and a straw hat, carried a clay pot inside.

Though his jacket was baggy, a cloth belt at the waist made him look tidy enough.

His trousers were so voluminous one couldn’t guess how much cloth had been used; as he walked, the wind puffed them up so they billowed like a skirt.

This was the custom among the people of Changli, said to be for emergencies—if trouble struck, you could yank off your pants, tie up the legs, stuff half your belongings inside, sling them over your shoulder, and make a swift escape.

Such ingenious practices came from long experience with adversity.