“Kang Wang, please have some tea in the side hall.” Wu Yingzong gestured invitingly with his other hand.
Zhao Gou: “???”
Moments later, Zhao Huan emerged from the main hall with a darkened face, clearly seething with anger. Xiao Kun and Xiang Xian, still clad in their bathrobes, saw him off.
“Brother?” Zhao Gou jumped in fright, not expecting to encounter his elder brother in the Exorcism Division.
Zhao Huan merely snorted coldly without a word and strode straight out the door.
“The Crown Prince returns to the palace!” the Stone Lions called out together. “Farewell!”
“These two decorations at your gate,” Xiao Kun remarked, “could be appointed as Joint Policy Advisors under the Chancellor, excelling in both military and civil affairs—true pillars of the state.”
“Thank you, Chief Emissary!” the Stone Lions replied.
Xiang Xian laughed heartily and returned inside. Spotting Zhao Gou, he beckoned him over and draped an arm around his shoulders. Zhao Gou’s eyes darted about, noting Chaosheng’s intimacy with Wu Yingzong, which temporarily eased his suspicions. Then he began scrutinizing Xiao Kun.
Chaosheng seemed about to speak but hesitated. Xiang Xian said, “We’ll change and head out soon—don’t rush us. We’re off to the cuju match right away. Kang Wang, Auspicious Star High and Bright.”
Xiao Kun had much to say, but with Zhao Gou’s arrival, it was inconvenient to speak, so he held back for the moment. After changing into Exorcism Division uniforms, the group headed to Dragon Pavilion Lakeside.
Xiang Xian kept his arm around Zhao Gou’s shoulders and whispered, “There’s something I need your help with.”
Zhao Gou understood and replied, “Your housekeeper already sent word. It’s about investigating that orphanage, right? I dispatched people a couple of days ago.”
Zhao Gou wanted more details, but Xiang Xian couldn’t hide it from him since he was asking for a favor. He picked the essentials to share briefly. He didn’t want Xiao Kun to know—one, it was the New Year, and he didn’t wish to dredge up painful memories; two, it would only worry Xiao Kun and make him uncomfortable.
Seeing how close Xiang Xian and Zhao Gou were, Xiao Kun felt a twinge of discomfort.
This guy had been arm-in-arm with him watching fireworks the night before, but after one night, he was all buddy-buddy with Zhao Gou, calling him brother. Chaosheng clung to Wu Yingzong, Xiang Xian whispered with Zhao Gou, glancing his way now and then.
Xiao Kun walked alone at the rear of the group.
After finishing their talk, Xiang Xian promptly sent Zhao Gou on his way, then turned back to take Xiao Kun’s hand.
Xiao Kun flung it off. Xiang Xian asked, puzzled, “What’s wrong? You were fine this morning.”
Xiao Kun replied, “I’m not one of you Song People. I’m not used to holding hands and rubbing cheeks—act with some propriety!”
Chaosheng and Wu Yingzong, who had been holding hands and rubbing cheeks, turned back. Xiang Xian burst into laughter and forcibly hooked his arm around Xiao Kun’s neck. Xiao Kun noted that most young men out strolling on New Year’s Day were holding hands, but interlocking fingers with Xiang Xian was something he simply couldn’t accept. He half-heartedly relented, letting Xiang Xian rest his arm on his shoulder.
“Let’s go,” Xiang Xian said. “Hang around long enough, and you’ll get used to it!”
Xiao Kun was at the end of his patience. “You’re the one who hangs around!”
The cuju field was already packed with spectators. Along the way, Xiang Xian introduced Zhao Gou and Xiao Kun to each other. Xiao Kun merely nodded; he cared little for imperial family members. He saw the complicated look in Zhao Gou’s eyes toward him—no need for Nether Eyes to read his mind. He knew his arrival had stolen Xiang Xian’s attention, which must have upset the prince.
Xiao Kun thought it over and instead urged Xiang Xian to be friendlier with Zhao Gou, lest he neglect the royal.
But after the initial pleasantries, Xiang Xian paid Zhao Gou little mind, his thoughts and gaze fixed entirely on Xiao Kun.
“Don’t forget we have work today,” Xiao Kun reminded him.
Dragon Pavilion Lakeside teemed with people. Xiao Kun signaled Xiang Xian to watch the Bell at his waist—perhaps they’d find clues to last night’s Demonic Qi. Zhao Gou and Chaosheng had already secured seats, so everyone took their places.
Gao Qiu had reserved spots for Xiang Xian and Xiao Kun, assigning Xiang Xian to the Red Team while he and Xiao Kun joined the Gold Team.
“Can you play?” Xiang Xian asked. “Shall we practice first?”
Xiao Kun replied, “You underestimate me so.”
“Oh—” Xiang Xian said. “Impressive. But later, make sure Grand Commander Gao scores a few points.”
Xiao Kun said, “Why do you Song People turn even a simple cuju game into such a mess of complications?”
A gong rang out. Xiao Kun hadn’t touched a cuju ball in ages and itched to play. He leaped onto the field. Great Song cuju followed Han dynasty rules: one goal per team, sixteen players each. Scoring meant kicking the ball through the goal. Originally a military training exercise in peaceful times, participants were Forbidden Army members and noble youths of the capital.
The biannual cuju tournament during the New Year festival was the longest, lasting nearly half a month from New Year’s Day to the Lantern Festival. Countless smaller folk matches occurred simultaneously.
