Princess Snow and the Empress

5: The Huntsman

*Warning: Description of assault ahead*

The forest was unlike anything Snow had ever seen or experienced. Back at the Palace, the gardens were painstakingly curated to look perfect at all times. Every tree was selected specifically for its aesthetic and meaning; every rock carefully placed. All the misshapen leaves and fallen blossoms were clipped or swept away at first morning light. There was no room for wilderness to take root.

The ink paintings of cypress trees that hung in Master Li's study hall, and the gilded relief of the forest in the Empress's chambers seemed so simplistic in comparison to what she was beholding now.

Birds called to each other ceaselessly. Somewhere, she heard the steady tap-tap-tapping of a woodpecker. A songbird trilled a melody before taking off for the patch of blue between the leaves; free to flit wherever it pleased, unlike the larks in the bronze cages that hung along the walkway to her father's study.

Squirrels bounded up and down the trees, their fluffy tails little more than a blur out of the corner of her eyes. They were always gone the second she turned to look, disappearing behind boughs or into small holes dotting the trunks. It became a game to her, to spot a squirrel before they hopped out of sight. If she could not even catch a better glimpse of the small critters, how could she ever hope to hunt a pheasant?

If I had qinggong skills then maybe I could bring one down, she mused, imagining herself bounding weightlessly off the tree trunks like the flying swordsmen in the wuxia novels she read. She had to secretly borrow those books from Erden – princesses were discouraged from reading anything about martial arts or fighting.

Having gravity-defying skills was not enough, though. She'd probably have to employ dart-throwing skills like Rain of Petals and throw needles at the squirrels. Or perhaps she'd knock them off balance with a blast of chi.

During Master Li's class, she'd often daydreamed about being a skilled martial artist whose inner energy was so powerful, she could defeat her enemies with a flick of a finger. She'd imagined herself as a traveling swordsperson or a cultivator who subdued demons and evil spirits, until her tutor's fan smacked the table and jolted her out of her reverie.

I wonder whether there are any pheasant spirits or even squirrel spirits. I've only heard of snake and fox spirits. At bedtime, her childhood nanny warned her against huli jing, fox spirits who transformed themselves into beautiful women. Snow didn't quite like those stories; they often painted them as evil seductresses who practiced black magic and stole men's yang energy. She preferred the legend of Madame White Snake – a female snake that took on human form and fell in love with a man. That was far more interesting, involving romance, a jealous terrapin spirit and immortality pills.

How would squirrel spirits look like in human form? Heck, what would I be if I were a forest creature?

They continued plodding along the valley floor until they came across a wide but shallow stream. Water splattered over her boots and dampened the edges of her robe as her horse splashed through the uneven riverbed. Snow held onto her reins and balanced in her saddle, so proud that she managed to stay on, she wished Erden was there to see it. With the gently babbling stream far behind them, they started ascending the valley until finally they reached the crest of a hill and a break in the bamboo forest.

A mountain loomed like a hulking giant above the ranges far in the horizon. She caught only glimpses of it from her angle; dark as graphite with a pointed, snow-capped peak; its summit swallowed behind fast-moving clouds.

Tiger Ear Mountain. Snow recalled Weilong's explanation of the terrain. Please don't tell me that golden pheasants like to roost there.

The huntsman stopped for a moment at the hillcrest before wordlessly leading her down another forested valley.