Loved By The Emperor (MPREG)

The hunting grounds stretched out like a painted scroll, the vast forest bordered by gentle hills that seemed to roll endlessly into the horizon. The emperor's hunting pavilion stood at the forefront, its golden banners gleaming under the morning sun. The air buzzed with anticipation as officials, nobles, and attendants made their final preparations.

Unlike the formalities of a banquet, the hunt had a sharper edge—less ceremonial, more primal. The rustle of armour, the whinnying of horses, and the low murmur of commands created a symphony of calculated chaos. In stark contrast, the consorts and noble ladies, adorned in layers of embroidered silks, gathered at a distance under a grand canopy. Golden parasols shielded them from the sun, and the delicate fragrance of incense filled the air. Platters of fruits and sweet pastries were arranged meticulously on jade stands, serving as a luxurious distraction while they awaited the hunt's outcome.

The emperor's mount stood poised, its coat gleaming obsidian, a perfect match for its rider. As the first signal horn blared, the emperor did not bother with lengthy addresses or lofty rhetoric. His gaze swept the crowd, his phoenix eyes carrying a command far louder than words.

He gave a single nod, and the horn sounded again. The hunt began.

The golden light of dawn streamed through the rich fabric of the emperor's tent, illuminating the elaborate dragon embroidery with a soft glow. Yu Chen stirred, his body weighed down by the remnants of wine and exhaustion. As he sat up, the events of the previous night flitted through his mind, along with the cold realization of where he was.

The emperor's tent, he thought grimly. Of course.

The tent was eerily quiet. The faint murmur of voices outside told him that the servants had likely gathered to witness the ceremonial start of the hunt. His pulse quickened. This might be his only opportunity.

He stood, the dizziness from his hangover making him sway slightly. His eyes darted around the tent. Where are my things? Panic swelled for a moment before he remembered. His stash—everything he needed for his escape—was still hidden in his own tent, buried beneath his cot.

Yu Chen adjusted his robes, smoothing out the creases to appear as inconspicuous as possible. He peeked through the slit of the tent's entrance, his heart pounding. Most of the servants were distracted, their attention fixed on the bustling activity at the hunting pavilion. Horses snorted, horns blared, and the voices of nobles mingled with the baying of hounds.

Taking a deep breath, Yu Chen stepped out, his movements careful and deliberate. He kept to the shadows of the larger pavilions, his gaze darting nervously toward the clusters of servants and guards scattered throughout the area.

His tent wasn't far, but every step felt agonizingly slow. He slipped behind a row of supply wagons, crouching low as a pair of attendants passed by. The muffled sound of their conversation faded, and he pressed on, finally reaching the modest tent assigned to him as a lower-ranking consort.

The familiar smell of incense greeted him. He moved quickly, dropping to his knees beside the low cot. His hands worked deftly, pulling aside the neatly folded bedding to reveal a small hollow he had created beneath the cot's wooden frame.

There it was—a pouch wrapped in simple, unassuming cloth. Inside lay a small fortune in jewels and trinkets, meticulously selected over the past few weeks for their value and portability. However, one item was missing: a jade hairpin. This hairpin wasn't valuable due to its monetary worth, but because of its significance; it was the first gift the emperor had given him when their paths crossed..

Not me—the original Yu Chen, he reminded himself, a pang of detachment surfacing in his chest.

Suddenly, the muffled footsteps approaching froze him in place. His heart lurched as the sound grew louder. Tightening his grip on the pouch, he held his breath, every muscle coiled like a spring. The voices outside swelled and lingered for a dreadful moment before drifting past, the danger dissipating as quickly as it had arrived.

Yu Chen released a shaky exhale. Too close.

Without wasting a second, he tucked the pouch securely beneath his sash, smoothing his robes to conceal any hint of its presence. He moved swiftly, straightening the cot and arranging the bedding to eliminate any trace of his intrusion. The less evidence of his schemes, the better.

Satisfied, Yu Chen slipped out of the tent, his gaze downcast. He melded seamlessly into the hive of activity surrounding the hunt, keeping his pace steady and unremarkable. Servants and attendants bustled about, oblivious to his presence—just as he intended.

Yu Chen turned back to the forest. The tree line seemed to beckon him, the dense shadows offering the promise of freedom. Without a second thought, he quickened his pace, weaving between the scattered pavilions and supply carts until he reached the edge of the woods. The forest swallowed him whole, its towering trees and dense undergrowth muffling the sounds of the camp. Every step felt like a victory, the weight of the imperial court lifting with each stride.

The thick canopy of the forest shrouded Bai Yu Chen in a dim, eerie light as he darted between the towering pines and knotted oaks. His breath came in short gasps, clouding in the cool morning air. The hem of his robes, already torn and muddied from the underbrush, snagged on brambles, slowing him down. He ripped it free with trembling hands, glancing nervously over his shoulder. The royal hunt was still in full swing somewhere deeper in the forest. He could hear the distant cries of the hunters and the baying of hounds. Every sound—whether a branch snapping underfoot or the rustle of leaves—sent a spike of panic through him. He had to keep going. Yu Chen tightened his grip on the small satchel slung over his shoulder.

He stumbled over roots hidden beneath the fallen leaves, catching himself against a trunk as he forced his aching legs to keep moving. The further he went, the more treacherous the terrain became.

"Just a little further," he whispered to himself, his voice hoarse. He didn't know how far he needed to go to evade the emperor's hunters, but stopping wasn't an option. Not yet.

The sun had hung high in the sky when Bai Yu Chen first made his escape, its golden rays piercing through the forest canopy. But as the hours stretched on, the light grew weaker and the faint cool of the morning gave way to a warmer, crispier air. Afternoon had deepened into early evening, and the sun was now a dim orb sinking toward the horizon.

The dwindling daylight spurred him on. He had to cover as much ground as possible before darkness fell, when the hunting parties and guards would undoubtedly begin their search in earnest. By the time the sun had dipped below the horizon, only the faintest traces of twilight remained. The forest was quickly plunging into darkness, and Bai Yu Chen knew he needed to find shelter—or at least somewhere to hide. The night was coming fast, and so were his pursuers.