Mo Zi was helpless with Xiao Mingrou. Was there something wrong with the Xiao family bloodline, or was she naturally unable to get along well with those surnamed Xiao? Why was it so difficult to make them understand plain words?
Xiao Wei was the second archer. His sister’s fragility and incompetence didn’t affect his judgment. One arrow shot down a bell before the yellow flag. During the ten water drops, two arrows took two bells. Every arrow hit its mark.
“Mo Zi.” Xiao Wei saw her and Yang Qiao walk away, leaving his sister to struggle to stand alone, and couldn’t help but be anxious.
“I have no choice. It’s better than sitting and waiting for death together with her.” Mo Zi had no way to communicate with Xiao Mingrou and pointed at Xiao Mingrou who insisted on going contrary to them. “Persuade your sister to stop walking. As long as she doesn’t move, the Great Qiu will definitely shoot off the bells on her hat first, and she can exit naturally. Otherwise, the more stubborn she is, the more she’ll be used as a living target.” The Great Qiu women wouldn’t pass up the chance to toy with them. They could stop behind her, showing half their faces on either side, and the Great Qiu archers would shoot arrows into her body.
This was called mouse-catching, a game hidden within bell-shooting.
Xiao Wei couldn’t bring himself to ask Mo Zi to look after his sister, because he knew that continuing this way, the Great Zhou would definitely lose. He could only go persuade his sister, but Xiao Mingrou clearly wouldn’t listen to her second brother’s words either, letting the Great Qiu women follow behind her like ghosts, remaining indifferent.
Wu Yanjie came up and stared fixedly at Mo Zi, bow not drawn, arrow not nocked.
Mo Zi paid no attention, only keeping watch on the yellow flag. Horse hooves trampled snow. Wu Yanjie’s voice came: “If I win, I’ll ask the Great Zhou Emperor for you.”
Mo Zi laughed lightly. Opening her mouth, she caught snowflakes—cold, like the eyes hidden beneath her hat brim. “Win first, then talk.”
In a situation where they couldn’t afford to lose, encountering the dispirited Xiao family daughter—was it bad luck?
“I see you’ve become hardhearted now, knowing to sacrifice pawns to save the chariot, letting useless companions become dead mice. Well done.” That praise was sincere. “I also want to see whether the Great Zhou noble lady can withstand my three arrows.” Mo Zi heard this clearly and understood he was waiting for her to plead for someone. So she said coldly, “Just go ahead and try. If she dies, remember to pick the most expensive coffin for a proper burial. She can afford it.” The yellow flag raised. Mo Zi called Yang Qiao to stand back-to-back with her, using both arms to block the front and sides of their hat brims, covering the bells. This was team spirit.
Three bowstrings twanged. The Great Qiu women’s laughter rang like bells. Not far away, cries of alarm sounded.
The flag bearer shouted to lower the flag. Mo Zi and Yang Qiao hurried to stand and look over—they saw Xiao Mingrou curled up on her knees in the snow.
Meeting Wu Yanjie’s hawk-like gaze, Mo Zi said two words in a low voice that made him change expression and freeze in place.
“Bastard,” she said.
And she had never cursed at him before, not even when they’d broken off relations.
Mo Zi went to check on Xiao Mingrou. She didn’t plan to take beatings for her, but she also wouldn’t allow her to interfere with her own chances of winning. So she had to think of a solution.
Wei Jia came. Xiao Mingrou had put their team at a disadvantage, making his eyes blaze with fire. Without waiting for the yellow flag, whoosh whoosh—two arrows knocked down two bells.
When he was about to shoot the third arrow, Mo Zi stood directly opposite him. “General, please wait for the yellow flag before shooting the last arrow, and let us help Miss Xiao up.”
Wei Jia had carefully observed Mo Zi earlier and found her to be a very decisive woman. His impression was good, so he nodded in agreement.
Mo Zi crouched before Xiao Mingrou. “Can you get up?” She was certain that Wu Yanjie should have understood her words and wouldn’t actually shoot someone to death.
Xiao Mingrou’s nose was blocked, her eyes closed, her exquisite face covered in pale snow. “Am I about to die?” “Did you come here to seek death?” Finally the truth came out. Mo Zi was angry enough to laugh. “Don’t want to enter the palace for selection?”
She couldn’t think of any other reason.
Xiao Mingrou opened her eyes, her gaze dim. “It’s none of your business.”
“How is it none of my business? If you want to die, that’s fine, but why drag me and Miss Yang down? Don’t tell me—if you committed suicide, you’d fear implicating your family, but dying here could be considered dying for country and sovereign, preserving your posthumous reputation.” Mo Zi had thought Xiao Mingrou would be looking forward to entering the palace, because her whole family was looking forward to it.
“I—” Xiao Mingrou’s heart was exposed by Mo Zi’s words.
“However, you won’t die this way. You’ll only lose face and become a laughingstock. Get up. I’ll tell you a way—win against the Great Qiu and ask the Emperor for a favor.” Coax her first.
Xiao Mingrou endured the pain and climbed up, very bedraggled. Her physical constitution was worlds apart from Mo Zi’s—truly made of tofu, the slightest pressure could leave finger marks.
There was a chain behind her. Mo Zi quietly looked back—it was Yue Ying. Another glance showed the yellow flag about to move, with Wei Jia right in front. Want to use her as a shield? She pushed Xiao Mingrou aside, her toe spinning extremely quickly, bending her body. Yue Ying couldn’t blink in time—she only saw a black shadow sweep past with force, and two bells fell to the ground.
Mo Zi praised, “Excellent archery.” The yellow flag lowered. Wei Jia nodded to Mo Zi and turned his horse around.
After three rounds, the Great Qiu had knocked down three bells while the Great Zhou had knocked down seven bells. One Great Qiu woman was eliminated.
At this time, half an incense stick remained.
Mo Zi recalled the palace maid’s words asking her to delay as much as possible. Looking at Xiao Mingrou’s appearance of being unable to stand steadily, she made a decision in her heart. She helped Xiao Mingrou, who was now obeying her, adjust the bell hat, arranging four bells on two lines just so.
Yang Qiao was very clever. Not only did she see what was happening, she also understood this meant letting Xiao Mingrou exit. Although the Great Zhou had the advantage, it was an indisputable fact that Xiao Mingrou wasn’t suited to stay. Therefore she remained silent.
With the gap between the two teams widening, Yue Ying and the others didn’t dare play games anymore. Still targeting Xiao Mingrou, not knowing Mo Zi and Yang Qiao were deliberately letting her fall behind alone, the instant the yellow flag was raised, Yue Ying pushed her right in front of Tiger Fang. Three arrows, four bells.
As soon as Xiao Mingrou exited the circle, quite a few people rushed over, carefully carrying her away while loudly calling for the imperial physician.
Everything was within Mo Zi’s control. The burden had been quietly resolved. As for whether the Emperor would grant Xiao Mingrou a favor, judging by this situation, she feared it wouldn’t be easy. However, it had nothing to do with her.
Thanks to Wu Lianqi’s showy incompetence, the fourth round result was seven bells to seven bells, five people to five people—a tie.
And the method Mo Zi and Yang Qiao used to protect their bells was also learned by Yue Ying and her companion. Xiao Wei only barely managed to shoot down one bell and could no longer find an opening.
Red Claw was ruthless—first shooting an arrow that hurt Yang Qiao’s hand, then taking advantage of her recoiling to shoot two more in succession.
When Wei Jia came on the field, Mo Zi thought of a man-to-man marking strategy, separating Yue Ying from the other Great Qiu woman.
The four women competed across the entire field, but Yang Qiao’s speed was slightly insufficient, resulting in Yue Ying and her companion hiding behind her, causing Wei Jia’s two arrows to miss.
Nine to eight—the Great Qiu had a very good chance of winning because from Wei Jia’s angle, he simply couldn’t shoot the bells.
When the eunuch counting water drops called out eight, Yang Qiao moved. She stepped out of the circle, declaring her automatic withdrawal.
This was naturally also Mo Zi’s signal.
The only delaying tactic she could think of was this one. But she didn’t know what the person who asked her to delay was actually doing.
Between the Moon Palace and the Imperial Palace stood two walls.
In the Central Secretariat section of the outer court, a Qianniu Guard captain came to report. “Both excellencies, the people have come out of Ziwei Pavilion and are now withdrawing toward the north gate.”
Two people sat before the desk, both wearing feathered caps and silk headbands, dressed in scholar’s robes. One was precisely Yuan Cheng, the other was the new top scholar Yang Ling.
“Don’t let them get out too easily,” Yuan Cheng said.
The captain acknowledged and withdrew.
“Biefei, we should also move to another place. This place is really boring.” Biefei was Yang Ling’s courtesy name.
Yang Ling stood up, his expression somewhat eager. “Everything is within Your Excellency’s expectations. As expected, they came for the water garrison defense maps.”
“But he truly is the Great Qiu King’s most relied-upon left arm. Though it’s rhetoric meant to display sincerity, his personal entry into the capital unavoidably makes one think more. I’ve heard the Great Qiu King has a shadow guard force that specifically follows him on secret missions, coming without trace and leaving without shadow. Looking at it this way, only they could evade the palace guards. The shadow guards only obey one person’s commands. That the Great Qiu King Wu Yanjie is mixed in with the delegation is already beyond doubt.”
As the two exited, they looked toward the Moon Palace direction in unison.
“Is your esteemed father also at the banquet tonight?” Yuan Cheng asked casually. Would Mo Zi’s words draw that person out?
“And this humble official’s younger sister. Having grown so big without ever experiencing a state banquet, she insisted father bring her to see it, not knowing the dangers involved.” However, with father there, it should be fine.
“I wouldn’t say dangerous—at most there will be alarm but no danger.” Yuan Cheng descended the steps and mounted his horse. “Let’s go.”
Two teams of swift horses rode through the night. The snow was thick, only producing muffled hoofbeats, blocking the sound of urgency.
Mo Zi stood alone in the center of the circle. Two newly added fire stands baked her forehead with sweat. She heard her own breathing. Apart from this, all other sounds seemed far away on the horizon.
Snowflakes were warmed by the heat into water, falling into the earth, turning it muddy.
The colorful feathered arrow tail was held between powerful fingers, aimed at her left eye.
“Finally we two can talk properly.” Everyone was ten zhang away. On this enormous field, there were only him and her.
Mo Zi looked at him, a smile at the corner of her lips. “You came to the Great Zhou years ago. Aren’t you afraid someone will recognize you? A ruler of a nation, so willful—it’s really not like you.” She watched closely, not because of any lingering feelings, but because she feared he might suddenly shoot an arrow. This man could do it.
“My appearance then and now differ greatly. Who could recognize me?” Years ago, he still had a “weak and sickly” body and “pale and refined” appearance.
“Not necessarily.” Mo Zi noticed Xiao Er had been staring at him for quite a while.
“Even if recognized, it doesn’t matter. I came for you. Since I’ve found you, I can return at any time.” He had already made arrangements.
“Came for me?” Mo Zi smiled with joy. “Not for some unspeakable purpose? Wu Yanjie, why must you deceive yourself and others? Imperial heartlessness is nothing shameful.”
“A’Zi!” Why? In conversation with her, he couldn’t parry.
An arrow broke through the air.
Mo Zi’s head suddenly tilted left. The arrow flew past her hat brim without making the bell ring.
Someone cheered at the field’s edge. The two people in the field seemed not to hear.
“What a pity,” she said.
When shooting arrows, if the heart is unsteady and the hand unstable, the eyes betray intent—it will definitely miss.
Wu Yanjie nocked his second arrow, his expression not showing anxiety. His advantage lay in being able to calm down quickly and learn from mistakes.
“A’Zi, you don’t need to provoke me.”
“I’m speaking only truth. How am I provoking you?” Her eyes focused intently, unblinking, with complete concentration.
Seeing his gaze deepen slightly, his hand raise, his head turn right—all meant to confuse her judgment.
The second arrow came immediately.
Mo Zi made a nodding motion like a sage, and the arrow feather grazed the bell.
Ding ding—the bell shook but remained.