Chapter 70: Walking Was a Mistake

Walking.

If Bai Yue had known that a “mating retreat” involved this much cardiovascular exercise, she might have fought harder for banishment. The beastworld didn’t have paved roads or convenient rest stops. It had roots, slippery moss, and inclines that made her lungs feel like they were being marinated in the very “spicy pain-broth” Cāng Yáo craved.

By the time the sun began to dip toward the horizon, the group finally slowed.

“There,” Han Shān said, pointing toward a sheltered clearing nestled between a cluster of ancient, broad-leafed trees and a bubbling creek.

“Finally,” Bai Yue sighed, leaning her weight against a tree trunk. “I think my legs have turned into jelly.”

The cubs were already ahead of her in the exhaustion department. Ruì Xuě and Yòu Lín had given up halfway through the trek, and were now fast asleep, Ruì Xuě tucked into a fur sling on Han Shān’s back, and Yòu Lín curled into a ball in a basket Zhào Yàn carried. They looked small and peaceful, their tiny chests rising and falling in perfect rhythm.

Nearby, Hóng Yè was proving himself the most dutiful son in the world.

While the others collapsed, he was busy helping Yàn Shū unpack the medicinal herbs and lighter furs.

“Father, sit,” Hóng Yè commanded softly, guiding the Red Panda scholar to a flat rock. “I will handle the water.”

Yàn Shū looked exhausted but gave a grateful, shaky smile. “Thank you, Hóng Yè. You are….much more capable than I.”

“Where is that mud-rat?,” Cāng Yáo demanded, ignoring the domestic bliss. She marched into the center of the clearing and crossed her arms. “I require sustenance. The pain! I was promised the pain-broth, Bai Yue!”

Bai Yue rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “Fine, fine. But we need a camp first. I can’t cook in the dirt.”

Over the next few hours they started the process of creating a camp. Han Shān and Zhào Yàn did most of the work.

The Snow Leopard chopped wood and hauled heavy stones, while the Fox Lord used his agility to lash together saplings and large leaves, creating sturdy, waterproof huts.

Han Shān’s stoic demeanor had surprisingly returned in full force. He was no longer blushing nor looked like he was one glance away from bursting into flames.

Yàn Shū and Hóng Yè gathered smaller branches and tinder, while Cāng Jì stood off to the side, looking as though he wanted to help but wasn’t entirely sure how to handle objects that weren’t made of gold or dragon-scale.

Every time Bai Yue passed him to organize the cooking supplies, she caught him staring at her.

She would turn, and his golden eyes would be fixed on her….with a strange expression.

Calculating? Curious? She couldn’t tell. As soon as her gaze met his, Cāng Jì would let out a small “Hmph,” turn his face away with a jerk, and find a very interesting cloud to study.

What is that about? Bai Yue thought. Does he have a twitch? Or am I just that interesting to look at?

“Hmm,” she hummed to herself, setting up the stone hearth.

Once the sun fully disappeared and the huts were secured, it was time for the main event. Cāng Jì, seemingly tired of being useless, stepped forward and flicked a finger. A spark of pure, concentrated dragon-fire hit the wood, instantly creating a perfect, roaring campfire.

“There,” he grunted. “Now cook.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Bai Yue teased, earning another huff from the Dragon Prince.

The smell of dried meat, wild peppers, and aromatic herbs soon filled the clearing. As the broth began to bubble, the spicy steam hit the air, making Cāng Yáo lean over the pot with an expression of ecstasy.

A small movement near the huts caught Bai Yue’s eye. Ruì Xuě was rubbing his eyes, his hair a mess of sleep-tousled white fur. He spotted Bai Yue through the firelight, and his entire face lit up.

“Mama!” he chirped, stumbling over on shaky legs.

Bai Yue’s heart did a tiny somersault. She knelt down as he collided with her knees. “Hey, sleepyhead. Are you hungry? Mama is cooking something for us!”

She scooped a small, cooled bowl of mild broth and soft meat for him. He took it with both hands, looking up at her with big, adoring eyes before digging in. Yòu Lín wasn’t far behind, waking up just in time to start a game of ’tag’ around Bai Yue’s legs, which nearly resulted in a spilled pot.

As everyone settled around the fire, the atmosphere turned surprisingly peaceful.

Cāng Yáo was sweating profusely and looking delighted as she ate the spiciest portions. Yàn Shū was nibbling on herbs, and Han Shān sat close to Bai Yue, his shoulder occasionally brushing hers, this time without him bolting into the woods.

Zhào Yàn, however, was not looking at his food. He was watching Cāng Jì.

The Fox Lord leaned back on his elbows, his nine tails fanning out behind him like a luxurious rug. He waited until Cāng Jì took a sip of his own bowl before speaking.

“So, Cāng Jì,” Zhào Yàn said out loud, his eyes glinting with mischief.

The Dragon Prince looked up, a drop of broth on his chin. “What is it, fox? Speak quickly. I’m eating.”

“I couldn’t help but notice,” Zhào Yàn continued, a smirk spreading across his face. “You have spent more time looking at my mate today than you have at your own sister. Even before today, your eyes always find her. Tell me, oh Great Dragon…..are you attracted to Bai Yue?”

The clearing went silent. Han Shān froze. Cāng Yáo stopped chewing.

Cāng Jì’s eyes went wide, and he let out a sound that was half-choke, half-indignant squawk.

“Uhh!!!”

Cāng Jì’s eyes went wide, and he let out a sound that was half-choke, half-indignant squawk.

“Uhh!!!”

Right on cue, Yàn Shū let out a violent, sympathetic choke from across the fire. The poor Red Panda scholar had been mid-sip, and the broth promptly took a detour into his windpipe.

“Father!” Hóng Yè sighed, looking like the only adult in a clearing full of toddlers. He reached over and began thumping Yàn Shū’s back with one hand while holding a cup of water to his lips with the other.

“Drink. Try to remember how to breathe, please.”

Cāng Jì finally found his lungs, his face a shade of red that rivaled a ripe tomato. He stood up abruptly. “How dare you! You—you sneaky fox! Me? A Dragon of the Golden Peak? Attracted to… to her?”

He pointed a shaking finger at Bai Yue, who was currently mid-chew.

“She is a mud-rat! A primitive! A common…..bipedal creature with no scales!” Cāng Jì shouted, his voice cracking. “I would rather mate with a particularly grumpy rock!”

Zhāo Yàn’s eyes darkened, his nine tails fanning out like a wall of dangerous fluff. The playful smirk was gone. “You have exactly three seconds to apologize to the ’mud-rat,’ or I am going to see how many of those gold chains I can shove down your throat.”

“Try it, Fox!” Cāng Jì hissed, a puff of smoke escaping his nostrils.

The two were inches apart, when Cāng Yáo let out a bored sigh. Without even looking up from her bowl, she flicked her fingers.

Thwack. Thwack.

Two fist-sized stones materialized out of thin air and dropped directly onto Cāng Jì and Zhāo Yàn’s heads.

“Ow!” Cāng Jì yelped, clutching his scalp.

Zhāo Yàn hissed, ready to lung at the Dragoness, but a massive, fur-clad hand suddenly gripped the back of his collar. Han Shān had stood up, looking weary. He held the struggling Fox Lord back with one hand, his expression as flat as a frozen lake.

“Be quiet,” Han Shān rumbled. “You are upsetting the cubs.”

Bai Yue let out a loud, ungraceful snort. She didn’t even bother to defend her honor as a “non-rat.” These men were exhausting.

“I’m going to get more water,” she muttered, standing up and grabbing an empty wooden bucket. “I need more water before you all set the forest on fire with your egos.”

She started heading toward the creek, shaking her head. Behind her, she heard a soft scuffle.

“I’ll help,” Hóng Yè said, having successfully revived his father. He trotted up to her side, his little face serious. “The path is slippery, and the Fox is likely to trip you if he tries to ’help’ in his current state.”

Bai Yue looked down at the boy in shock. He was…. offering to help her?

“Oh….very well.”

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