Chapter 149: Entanglement (3)

Polo could be played with either single or double goals, with double goals being more common in Jiangnan and single goals more popular in Great Wei, making the latter more intense.

This match was a three-on-three contest. On the Wei side were Gu Juhán and Liu Shaotáng, the son of Marquis Juàn Líng. To appear fair, they also included a civil official, a sixth-rank young bureaucrat named Jiǎ Lù. On the Liang side were Qi Ying and an official from the Privy Council, Qián Miǎo. Unable to find another player, they had Bai Sōng fill the third spot.

The legendary ministers of the chaotic era, “Southern Qi, Northern Gu,” suddenly appearing together, naturally stirred excitement among the spectators. Especially Gu Juhán, the young general renowned for his good looks—his sharp eyebrows and bright eyes had always been adored by women. However, who would have expected that Qi Jingchén of Liang would also be so handsome? His elegant demeanor and divine aura surpassed all expectations, particularly his pair of majestic phoenix eyes, exuding a charm entirely different from Gu Juhán’s. The sight of these two men facing off on horseback made it difficult for the female spectators to contain themselves. Fortunately, the open customs of Great Wei prevented the ladies’ behavior from becoming too scandalous.

With a loud “thud,” the wooden ball was struck high into the air by a mallet, signaling the start of the match. Horses neighed loudly, and drums thundered like rolling thunder as this unprecedented polo match began.

The match was truly spectacular.

On the Wei side, there was no need to say much. General Gu, born into a military family, possessed extraordinary equestrian skills. His divine steed Ruochi seemed to understand his master’s intentions implicitly, needing little guidance to gallop swiftly across the field, almost faster than the ball itself. Even more impressive was Gu Juhán’s polo technique. The long and heavy mallet appeared light and nimble in his hands. Whenever he aimed and swung, the wooden ball inevitably flew into the goal. Each strike was precise, drawing continuous cheers from the sidelines.

On the Liang side, the spectacle was of a different kind.

Envoy Qi was a civil official, a true scion of a prestigious family. Playing such a rugged game, he still managed to exude elegance and refinement, as if leisurely riding through a garden. Unlike Gu Juhán’s commanding presence, Envoy Qi was quiet, without flashy displays of skill. Instead, his play was subtle and clever. He skillfully controlled the timing of his passes, often directing the ball through the legs of the Wei players or right under their horses’ hooves. This caused frequent collisions between Liu Shaotáng and Jiǎ Lù, and even Ruochi stumbled repeatedly over the ball, giving Bai Sōng opportunities to seize the moment.

Bai Sōng’s martial prowess was exceptional; if measured solely by skill, he might not be inferior to Gu Juhán. Having served Qi Ying for many years, their coordination was unparalleled. Whenever the Wei players faltered, Bai Sōng capitalized on the opportunity, rarely missing a swing. Despite being disadvantaged by inferior horses, after most of the match, they were only slightly behind, making the contest evenly matched.

Gu Juhán had initially thought that the Liang ministers, being non-military officials riding poor horses, wouldn’t pose a serious challenge. However, as the match progressed, he felt increasingly constrained, reminiscent of being restricted on the battlefield. This provoked his competitive spirit, prompting him to take the game seriously.

Qi Ying also sensed Gu Juhán’s shift.

He wasn’t naturally competitive, having learned to conceal his talents since youth, rarely engaging in contests outside of national matters. Yet, that day, Gu Juhán reignited his competitive drive. Both men now played earnestly, making the match increasingly difficult to decide.

Emperor Gāo, originally intent on humiliating the Liang delegation, found himself caught up in the thrilling match. Blood rushed to his head, and he eagerly arranged for the Liang ministers to be given better horses.

With the new horses, the match became even more balanced. Though the Liang side had initially lagged, they gradually caught up. Southern Qi and Northern Gu fully engaged in a spirited contest, playing with great enjoyment. Even after an incense stick burned out, no clear winner emerged.

By this point, not only were the two players reluctant to stop, but the spectators were also unsatisfied, clamoring for the two adults to play another round. Emperor Gāo was the first to cheer, nearly issuing an edict to force a rematch.

Fortunately, both men were willing to continue. After briefly leaving the field for water, they returned to the game. Dust flew, cheers echoed, and the excitement resumed.

Unfortunately, even until the end, neither man could claim victory.

After the first draw, each side won small victories, back and forth for half a day without a decisive outcome. Nevertheless, the spectators thoroughly enjoyed the spectacle. Emperor Gāo was pleased, granting a feast and lamenting the lack of a clear winner. He declared that if the Chief Minister visited Northern Wei again, they must arrange another match to settle today’s unfinished business.

Qi Ying merely smiled, assuring him it would happen.

At the banquet, amidst the clinking of glasses, Qi Ying and Gu Juhán sat far apart. Surrounded by others, Qi Ying couldn’t break away, exchanging distant toasts with Gu Juhán.

In the brief moments of eye contact, Qi Ying noticed Gu Juhán’s isolation—only Liu Shaotáng sat beside him, few approached to offer wine. Gu Juhán sat alone, expressionless, his eyes reflecting a somber mood.

The Gu family was indeed on the brink of decline.

During the battle at Jian Mountain Pass, the old Duke had been injured—not severely, but enough to trouble an aged warrior. Moreover, this defeat shattered his spirit. Reportedly bedridden since returning from the battlefield, he hadn’t resumed court duties.

With the old Duke incapacitated and Gu Juhán yet to inherit the title, his position in court was awkward.

Though Gu Juhán was highly accomplished, he remained overshadowed by his father—a reality unavoidable for sons of noble military families. Until he truly surpassed his father, he couldn’t replace him in court, leaving him to watch the Gu family’s decline helplessly.

How could Gu Juhán surpass the old Duke? With a ten-year peace treaty in place, without warfare, what could he rely on to make a comeback? The path for military families was narrow.

Qi Ying silently observed everything, his heart calm but tinged with regret.

Gu Wenruò.

Truly a remarkable talent, possessing the valor to conquer the world. Most admirable was his upright character, capable of shouldering the responsibility of defending the nation. Under a wise ruler, he wouldn’t be mired in the quagmire of court politics but would become a national sword and shield.

If they served the same court, they might have become close friends.

But destined to be adversaries, Qi Ying would only watch the Gu family fall, never extending a helping hand.

This star of war would sink quietly.

On the twenty-third day of the second month of Jiàhé Year One, the Liang envoys bid farewell to Emperor Wei, heading south to return home.

The envoys of Liang were all in high spirits, their faces glowing with success. Having successfully concluded the peace negotiations, promotions and honors awaited them upon their return.

However, the happiest of all was Shen Xiling.

With the main affairs settled, she could finally elope with Qi Ying.

This prospect thrilled her immensely. From the moment they left the Envoy’s Villa and boarded the carriage, she was so excited her face turned red, her bright eyes shining. She tugged at Qi Ying’s sleeve, chattering incessantly.

Once they crossed the borders of Shangjing, she grew even more elated, like a bird freed from its cage, eager to ask Qi Ying when they would depart.

Qi Ying smiled, gently stroking her hair, whispering in her ear, “Not urgent. Wait until after your birthday.”

Shen Xiling was startled, realizing tomorrow was her birthday.

She had forgotten it herself, yet he remembered, even amidst such significant events.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Shen Xiling looked at Qi Ying, struggling to find words. After a while, she calmed down, pulling at him again, saying, “There’s no need for that. I’m not a child anymore; I don’t have to celebrate my birthday…”

He chuckled, pinching her cheek, replying, “I’ve already arranged everything. We’ll depart from Jizhou, where someone will meet us.”

Jizhou.

Originally part of Great Wei, it was ceded to Liang in the peace agreement. Now, during this transition period, it was a chaotic area ripe for exploitation. They needed to depart from the north bank; once back in Jiangnan, things wouldn’t be as easy.

Unaware of how meticulously Qi Ying had arranged everything, Shen Xiling felt reassured and even more excited. She wished the entourage would hurry, reaching Jizhou as soon as possible, leaving no room for thoughts of celebrating her birthday.

Recognizing her impatience, Qi Ying gently embraced her, soothing her with a low voice, “Last year, you didn’t have a good birthday. This year, I will make it up to you.”

Shen Xiling blinked at his words.

Last year.

Last year was her coming-of-age ceremony, a time when he was ignoring her, intent on marrying her off to someone else. Her heartfelt confession met with his cold response, leaving her crying for days, utterly heartbroken. It was indeed a terrible experience.

He still remembered these events, always thinking of compensating her.

Shen Xiling was delighted, looking at him with pursed lips, secretly plotting how to tease him. With a playful tone, she asked, “Then, Master, how do you plan to compensate me?”

He looked down at her, his phoenix eyes as captivating as the first time they met over four years ago. Only then, his eyes were frosted; now, they melted into a spring-like warmth, gazing at her with endless tenderness.

He said, “Whatever you wish.”

Under his tender gaze, Shen Xiling felt slightly intoxicated. Even the somewhat noisy sound of the carriage wheels seemed pleasant. Feeling shy, she whispered in his ear after some thought, “…I want control over household affairs. Everything at home should be decided by me.”

Her eyes sparkled especially brightly when she mentioned the word “home,” filled with countless hopes, gentle and warm. Qi Ying smiled, lightly tapping her nose, teasing her, “So greedy for power?”

The girl giggled, pushing him playfully, pouting, “Yes, I am greedy. Will Master give it to me or not?”

How could he refuse her anything?

Whatever she wanted, he would give.

Qi Ying kissed her eyelashes, replying, “Yes, it’s all yours.”

The girl became even happier, turning to inquire about his plans, asking where their future home would be—would it be nestled among famous mountains and rivers, shrouded in clouds, like the hermit dwellings described in books? Or would they live hidden in plain sight, amidst bustling markets?

With major affairs settled, Qi Ying also felt a sense of ease, beginning to discuss their future life plans. The two talked intimately, endlessly.

That night at the inn, however, Qi Ying received a letter from Jiangnan.

In an instant, everything was reduced to ashes.