Yan Qing was in a bad mood, and he didn't feel like cooling off under the grape trellis anymore. He stood up, went back to his room to change into his riding attire, and on a whim decided to go hunting.
Duanyang chased after him, "Young Master Marquis, are you going hunting without calling for Master Cheng and the others?"
"No need to call for them; their little skills only amount to clapping and cheering," Yan Qing said disdainfully. "After I've hunted the game, I'd still have to share it with them. They act like a bunch of ancestors, what's the use in bringing them along?"
Duanyang remained silent.
Yan Qing rode out of the city and headed for the hunting ground at the foot of Qiyun Mountain. He could never forget those three plum blossom deer he had hunted that day—so plump and delicious, yet he hadn't gotten to taste a single bite.
Upon arriving at the hunting grounds, he made a gesture to the tail following him, "Don't follow me, you'll be in the way."
