CXD - 25

It wasn’t until the next candidate took the field that the crowd finally began to recover from the awe-inspiring spectacle they had just witnessed. Even then, their minds remained clouded with lingering astonishment.

It couldn’t be blamed on them for being narrow-minded. Having grown complacent in the academy, they had always assumed that the examinations at Tian Study Hall represented the pinnacle of horseback archery—nothing more than Zhong Boyong’s flawless ten-arrow performance. Who could have imagined there was a higher level beyond?

Of course, much of their shock stemmed from the fact that the figure they now looked up to as “the heavens” was none other than Shen Yuan Ce.

Although reports of his military exploits over the past six months had repeatedly shaken Chang’an, their impression of Yuan Ce as former classmates remained stuck in the past: sneaking out of class, sleeping through lessons, gambling during practice, and arguing back at teachers until they were red in the face…

At least their own parents were in the capital, where misbehavior would result in punishment. But Yuan Ce’s father had been stationed far away in Hexi, and his stepmother was gentle and never raised her voice. If anyone claimed the title of troublemaker second to none, it was undoubtedly Yuan Ce.

So no matter what the outside world said—how Yuan Ce had transformed after three years of military training, rising like a phoenix from the ashes, proving that a tiger doesn’t breed dogs—they still doubted it.

The Xuan Ce Army was already the strongest force in all of Daye. With such soldiers, strategy came from the advisors, and brute strength from the front-line warriors. Any general could win battles—it was only a matter of time. Hadn’t Yuan Ce taken three whole years, stumbled along the way, and nearly destroyed his father’s legacy?

—That was what they believed before this archery examination.

As these thoughts slowly sank in, the crowd gradually came back to their senses, belatedly realizing the trouble ahead.

Normally, Zhong Boyong showing off alone would be tolerable. But now that Zhong Boyong had shown off, followed by Yuan Ce outdoing him, if Zhong Boyong refused to admit defeat…

Wasn’t this a case of gods fighting while mortals suffered?

After painstakingly improving their riding and archery skills, they’d hoped to bring home decent results for some praise. But now, looking at the top two rankings, how could their minuscule progress even matter?

One by one, the students began to worry about their futures—all except Jiang Zhiyi, who had tired herself out from emotional highs.

Once the excitement wore off, seeing the subsequent candidates fail to impress, and Yuan Ce sitting so far away, Jiang Zhiyi yawned behind her sleeve, leaned against Guyu, and drifted off into a light slumber.

Somewhere in her deep sleep, she heard a familiar voice: “Send her back to the residence to rest.”

Feeling someone lift her arm, Jiang Zhiyi struggled fiercely against the pull of drowsiness, abruptly opening her eyes.

Raising her head, she found the once-bustling training ground now empty, devoid of students and instructors. Yuan Ce stood in front of the bench, looking down at her with an expression that clearly conveyed his exasperation.

Jiang Zhiyi snapped awake, blinking. “…I’m not going back!”

Yuan Ce: “You’ve seen what kind of people are in this academy. Do you really want to stay here?”

“I don’t care who they are; I have you, don’t I?” Jiang Zhiyi grumbled as Guyu helped her sit up. “You’re so fickle. If you didn’t want me here, why did you smile at me earlier…”

Yuan Ce’s eyebrows arched. “Could it be your enthusiastic performance amused me?”

“…”

Jiang Zhiyi glared at him resentfully. “Even when you were so busy, you still paid attention to my act. That means you really like having me around!”

“A mere sound-based positioning trick? The battlefield is infinitely more chaotic than this.”

…His stubbornness was unmatched, even by a dead duck.

Jiang Zhiyi: “Anyway, I’m not leaving. It’s the first time I’ve seen you shoot arrows, and I haven’t had enough yet!”

“The first time?”

“Yes, back at the shooting range, didn’t you pretend to be terrible? How can those count?”

Yuan Ce blinked lightly.

Naturally, with a father commanding troops in the borderlands and a brother acting as a hostage in Chang’an, the less capable he appeared, the more secure everyone felt—the less likely others would envy or hate him.

Everyone in Chang’an thought that after three years, the once-useless prodigal son had learned his lesson, matured, and grown up. But little did they know, the prodigal was never truly a prodigal, and he would never get the chance to grow up again.

…But it seemed that while her brother had deceived everyone, he had been honest with his beloved.

“What are you spacing out for?” Jiang Zhiyi waved her pale hand in front of his eyes. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” Yuan Ce snapped back to attention.

“Then are you still trying to send me away?” Seeing him remain silent, Jiang Zhiyi pressed her advantage. “Don’t be ungrateful. If it weren’t for my hair ribbon today, how could you have defeated Zhong Boyong? At the very least, I’m your lucky star.”

“If I repay this favor, will you leave?”

Why was he so insistent? Jiang Zhiyi pouted unhappily. “Let’s talk about repayment first.”

“Fine. How do you want me to repay you?”

Caught off guard by the sudden question, Jiang Zhiyi glanced around for inspiration. Then, spotting a nearby target, she pointed. “Teach me archery.”

“?”

“This isn’t a favor you can repay in a day.”

Yuan Ce gave her a quick once-over and added, “Probably not even in a year.”

“…Teaching me archery doesn’t mean you have to make me proficient! Can’t I just try hitting the target with that satisfying ‘thwack’?”

Yuan Ce studied her silently for a moment, then turned toward the racetrack. He picked up a target, removed the scattered arrows stuck in it, and placed it on the open ground. After gauging her distance, he moved it closer by half.

Jiang Zhiyi: “… “

Seeing her indignant expression, Yuan Ce suppressed a smile, turned away, and fetched a lightweight bow. Wiping the surface with Guyu’s handkerchief, he handed it to her left palm. “What are you waiting for, Lucky Star?”

Jiang Zhiyi took the bow, muttering under her breath, “Don’t look down on me. Everyone has their strengths. I may know nothing about martial arts, but I’m sure I can write better poetry than you…”

Seeing the two preparing for an intense session, Guyu offered to keep watch and retreated to a distance.

Once Yuan Ce and the others were ready, he gestured toward her boots. “Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart.”

He tapped her shoulder. “Keep your shoulders level.”

“…This is so complicated.”

“Do you still want that satisfying ‘thwack’?”

“Yes, yes, yes—”

After adjusting her posture, Yuan Ce picked up an arrow and slid it between her fingers.

“Wait…” Looking at the arrow in her hand, Jiang Zhiyi suddenly remembered something. “I saw them wearing jade thumb rings earlier. Without one, won’t it hurt?”

Yuan Ce glanced at her delicate, flawless fingers—

“It will.”

“…Isn’t there a painless way to shoot the arrow?”

Yuan Ce closed his eyes briefly, then raised his own hand. “Then let me bear the pain. Will that do?”

“But I can’t let you…”

Before she could finish, a shadow fell over her. A warm chest pressed against her back, and her hand gripping the string was suddenly enveloped by his. His large palm also encircled her hand holding the bow.

A flame shot straight to her scalp. Jiang Zhiyi’s breath caught, and she froze, her limbs stiffening like they had the other day when he pulled her into his arms.

Sensing her sudden rigidity, Yuan Ce paused, his hands gently steadying hers.

…He was simply losing patience with her nagging.

In the vast, empty training ground, the two figures stood motionless.

Only the wind remained oblivious to the silence, continuing to blow gently, tangling their clothes together.

Yuan Ce slowly lowered his gaze, following the smooth curve of her forehead, past her fluttering lashes, to her delicate, upturned nose—

Yuan Ce shifted his gaze, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. “…I won’t feel pain.”

“…Oh, okay.” Jiang Zhiyi nodded quickly, her hair brushing lightly against his jaw.

“Don’t move.”

“Okay.” Jiang Zhiyi blinked, her hand trembling slightly as she rubbed the sweat off her palm.

Yuan Ce refocused on their hands, helping her draw the string taut.

Jiang Zhiyi’s lashes quivered as she stared at the distant target. “Like this…can I hit the bullseye?”

“Of course.” Yuan Ce lowered his chin, his gaze fixed intently on the target as he slowly pulled the bowstring.

The bow curved into a full moon. Jiang Zhiyi couldn’t tell whether the bow was tighter or if her nerves were more tense. Her prolonged stance made her legs numb, and she felt dizzy.

Just as the string reached its maximum tension, Jiang Zhiyi suddenly turned her head. “Wait…”

Her soft lips brushed against his jaw. Yuan Ce’s grip faltered, and the arrow shot out prematurely.

The sharp arrow cut through the air with a resounding “thwack,” striking the tree behind the target.

The accumulated snow on the branches was shaken loose by the impact.

The wind picked up, scattering fragments of snow across the training ground like an early spring shower of white apricot blossoms.

For a fleeting moment, Jiang Zhiyi’s blood froze, only to surge wildly the next instant like a flood rushing through a canyon.

Meeting Yuan Ce’s startled gaze and recalling what had just happened, Jiang Zhiyi slowly raised her hand to touch her lips.

Yuan Ce’s eyelashes fluttered, and he released her.

Jiang Zhiyi immediately stepped back.

Snowflakes landed on their dark hair. Jiang Zhiyi’s eyes flickered as she turned to look at the empty target, searching for words. “Um…didn’t you say you could hit the mark?”

“…The wind was too strong.” Yuan Ce set the bow aside and strode out of the training ground without another word.

“The wind was too strong…” At noon, inside the quiet and spacious carriage, Jiang Zhiyi sat at the table, smiling and repeating the phrase for what felt like the hundredth time.

Guyu eyed the array of exquisite dishes before her. “My lady, please eat. The food will get cold.”

Tian Chong Academy didn’t have a unified mealtime, as these noble sons ate like they were attending banquets, each with their own preferences. Meals were typically delivered by their household servants.

After Yuan Ce left the training ground, Jiang Zhiyi wandered aimlessly for a long time, forgetting about the second morning class. By the time she came to her senses, it was already noon. Xiao Man had brought her lunch.

Jiang Zhiyi hummed in acknowledgment, picked up a piece of bamboo shoot with her chopsticks, chewed, swallowed, then propped her chin on her hand, savoring the memory with a smile. “The wind was too strong…”

“…”

Oh well, skipping one meal wouldn’t kill her. Guyu gave up.

“If you’re not eating, at least rinse your mouth.” Guyu handed her a cup of tea.

Nonchalantly, Jiang Zhiyi rinsed her mouth, set the cup down after a moment, and murmured, “The wind…”

Guyu: “Was too strong!”

Jiang Zhiyi snapped out of her reverie and glanced at her. “Do you even know what I’m talking about?”

Guyu shook her head. She had been standing far away to keep watch earlier and hadn’t seen what happened between the two. It wasn’t until her lady began wandering aimlessly around the training ground that the phrase “the wind was too strong” had lodged itself firmly in her ears.

With great interest, Jiang Zhiyi asked, “Tell me, what does it mean when someone who can hit every target blindfolded during horseback archery misses while standing perfectly still with their eyes wide open?”

Guyu had an epiphany. “It means—the wind was too strong?”

Jiang Zhiyi stopped smiling. “Forget it, I won’t bother explaining. I’m going back to the study hall.”

“My lady, it’s not yet time for the afternoon class!”

“I’m going to check if Ah Ce Ge has eaten yet!”

Jiang Zhiyi lifted her robes and stepped out of the carriage, heading toward Tian Study Hall. Entering the classroom, she found a few young masters gathered together chatting idly, but Yuan Ce was nowhere to be seen.

Hearing movement, they quickly bowed and greeted her.

Jiang Zhiyi nodded casually and walked to the back row. Just as she was about to return to her seat, she noticed a sheet of white paper pinned under a paperweight on Yuan Ce’s desk, with a line of poetry written on it.

Looking around, she saw that everyone’s desks had a similar sheet of paper, likely an assignment left by the teacher from the previous class.

Some had already filled in several lines, while others, like Yuan Ce, left theirs blank.

She knew it: when it came to poetry, he couldn’t possibly surpass her.

Jiang Zhiyi tilted her head, pondered for a moment, then rolled up her sleeves.

As she sat down at his desk, she cautiously glanced forward.

For now, no one was looking in her direction.

Jiang Zhiyi settled in, quickly picking up the brush, dipping it in ink, and writing swiftly.

After finishing one line, she paused to think about the next when suddenly a male voice sounded just outside the window. “Yuan Ce, tell us about the battlefield. Are the Northern Jie people really as monstrous as they say, with green faces and fangs…”

Jiang Zhiyi hurriedly set down the brush and rushed back to her own desk.

No sooner had she sat down than the group ushered Yuan Ce through the door.

Just one test, and these people changed their attitudes so quickly…

Jiang Zhiyi’s thoughts shifted as she peeked at Yuan Ce through the bead curtain. She saw him dismiss the group with a few words, then walk toward the back row.

He kept his eyes straight ahead, not sparing her a glance.

Jiang Zhiyi mentally scoffed. Watching him approach his desk, she noticed he seemed to sense something had been tampered with before lowering his gaze.

Standing in front of the desk, Yuan Ce’s eyes moved from the disturbed paperweight to the sheet of white paper beneath it. After a moment of silent confrontation with the black ink on the page, he slowly turned his head toward the bead curtain beside him.

There, he met a pair of mischievous, laughing eyes that had been waiting patiently.

“Yuan Ce—” someone suddenly called his name and approached.

Yuan Ce quickly moved the paperweight, concealing the sheet of poetry.

As he raised his head, the image of the post-snow morning training ground floated hazily before his eyes—

The stray arrow.

The snowflakes swirling like apricot blossoms.

The softness that brushed against his jaw.

Each scene seemed to echo the two lines of poetry hidden beneath the paperweight—

“In February, the east wind blows apricot rain, stirring my heart toward Yi Yi.”