Chapter 1: The Elite Hunter

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“Report—”

The resounding announcement echoed throughout the great hall. “This year’s top scholar hails from Zhuyue City, with Chaoyang City following closely behind. The third-place winner is from Xincao City.”

The gold-rimmed jade cups froze midair, and the dazzling dance skirts awkwardly fell. The officials who had been chatting merrily on the dais all stiffened, exchanging slightly embarrassed glances. Their Muxing City had once again failed to secure a place in the top three.

After a long silence, the Grand Minister on the main seat spoke up. “Our Muxing has long been in decline. Understandably, we couldn’t outperform these great cities.” He paused before continuing, “But no matter. There will be opportunities next year. It’s a festive occasion, so let’s not dwell on trifles. Raise your cups!”

With his words, the hall immediately sprang back to life. As if to cover up their earlier discomfort, the sounds of toasts and jests grew even louder than before.

The Grand Minister turned his head, his gaze inadvertently falling on the person seated to the left of the great hall.

That man slightly tilted his head, revealing fine brows and eyes, his gaze captivating. He wore a thin, pale yellow gauze robe, his eyes gleaming with amber light.

He seemed utterly unconcerned about any “opportunities for next year,” simply sitting with his legs folded, drinking. He tilted his head back, the last drops of wine wetting half of his lotus-root silk collar.

Having drunk his fill, he waved away the dancing girls who had been accompanying him earlier and began to survey the bejeweled skirts twirling in the hall once more.

Young and vigorous, he was indeed a romantic at heart.

The Grand Minister smiled and shook his head, withdrawing his gaze.

As the imposing gaze disappeared, Ji Bozai’s shoulders relaxed slightly. He swept his eyes over the ladies in front, just about to casually select another, when suddenly a wine cup came flying from across the hall.

Dodging it with a slight turn of his head, he frowned and looked towards its source. Just then, he caught sight of a bamboo-mist-colored silk skirt unfurling like a flower, revealing the slender, snow-white ankles of its owner beneath.

“Mercy, my lord.” As the skirt fell, the person knelt on the ground, her waist trembling like a willow, her voice as crisp as an oriole’s song.

Ji Bozai’s eyebrows twitched slightly.

What a delightfully graceful figure.

The skirt fell wide, and the goose-yellow waistband was cinched so tight it could barely be grasped. Her bosom was full, yet her shoulders were slender and delicate. Her double-looped bun was as sleek as lacquer, her nose tip as white as powdered jade. Her small, delicate mouth quivered as she repeatedly offered apologies.

Standing before her was Left Minister of Revenue Qian Li. Already naturally rotund, his anger had caused his entire face to scrunch up, looming over her like a mountain.

“Go pick it up for me right now!” he bellowed.

“Yes, please calm your anger, my lord.”

She stumbled to her feet and tottered in his direction.

The golden cup had struck the stone pillar behind him and fallen right by his feet.

Ji Bozai watched her approach with interest, hoping to catch her eye. However, the young lady seemed too frightened to raise her head. She merely muttered, “Excuse me,” before bending down to retrieve the cup.

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