On the day the Northern Jin envoys left the capital, delicate green buds had blossomed on the bare branches of the tall trees in front of the Meng residence.
People said spring had come early this year, perhaps because something auspicious was happening in the country.
Although the troop reduction along the three routes of the northern border had been decided, implementing it proved much more complex. Di Nian was responsible for selecting personnel and reorganizing troops, as well as deploying soldiers to build garrisons. The matter of resettling and registering the dismissed Imperial Guards was left to the prefectural offices of each province. Refurbishing eight major garrisons along the three border routes and building new garrisons south of Mount Min and the Li River would cost at least several hundred thousand strings of cash. Three Agencies Commissioner Pei Hua had submitted several memorials, stating that the border markets generated considerable profit, and requesting the Emperor to decree that the Transport Commission of the three northern routes share half the expenses with the court to reduce the burden on the court treasury.
By early March, the northern military affairs were proceeding smoothly. Troop reduction and garrison construction were happening simultaneously, and the reports from the three routes showed no discrepancies. At the same time, the northern section of the Ministry of War reported that Northern Jin was also reducing troops at the border according to the previous agreement.
As the spring breeze began to blow, the provincial examination for the female imperial examinations was about to begin. Since last year’s reformed examination system had proven effective, Shen Zhili, the Junior Officer of Guests at the Ministry of Rites, submitted a memorial requesting the abolition of separate female imperial examinations, allowing women throughout the realm to take the same imperial examinations as men and serve as officials under the same regulations. The Emperor approved the Ministry of Rites’ request, making this year the final separate female imperial examination.
In addition, the Grand Archery and Riding Ceremony, which had been delayed since last autumn, would now take place in spring as usual, still at the Northern Garden. However, unlike in the past, the “horse leader” for this ceremony would be Meng Tinghui, who had joined the Strategic Military Bureau less than half a year ago.
Having a female official as the “horse leader” for the Grand Archery and Riding Ceremony was surprising enough, but the fact that it was proposed by several veteran generals of the Strategic Military Bureau was even more astonishing.
This was tantamount to publicly announcing their high regard for this female civil official who had entered the Strategic Military Bureau.
As a result, while Meng Tinghui might not have overwhelming power in court, her position in the two bureaus could certainly not be underestimated. Now, no civil officials below the rank of the Two Advisors dared to criticize her, and even officials above that rank were quite wary of her.
The weather was slightly warmer, and the melting snow on the training ground in the northern part of the palace had already been cleared away. The evening wind swept across, raising a cloud of sand along both sides of the archery range, which took on a unique hue in the glow of the setting sun.
A jujube-colored horse lowered its long neck, half-bending its front hooves, occasionally pawing at the thin soil of the track.
Meng Tinghui, dressed in riding attire, forced herself to patiently stroke its long mane. She gathered the reins and gently called out “Qing Yun” to the horse. Seeing it snort roughly, she carefully mounted the saddle.
She held the reins and made a circle in place, sensing that the horse seemed somewhat more docile than before. Only then did she slowly urge it to trot along the archery range?
She couldn’t help but smile at the thought that this stubborn jujube-red horse had been named “Qing Yun Bu Zhui” (Unwavering as the Blue Clouds).
Several palace attendants, who had been ordered to accompany her horse riding, watched anxiously, fearing that she might lose control of the horse again if she wasn’t careful.
Meng Tinghui rode the horse back and forth twice before turning the reins, guiding it out of the archery range and into a slow trot in circles.
Suddenly, a voice called out, “Your Majesty.”
She pulled the reins and looked back, immediately spotting the tall black steed.
The gilded saddle emitted a faint glow in the misty sunset light. The man on horseback had his regular imperial robe rolled up at the waist, his long legs loosely straddling the horse, seven parts dignified and three parts unrestrained.
Her face instantly flushed.
She silently scolded herself for being so flustered—it wasn’t the first time she had seen him like this, so why was her heart still pounding so wildly?
The jujube-red horse beneath her, upon seeing the black steed, immediately became eager to test itself against the other horse, shaking its long mane as if ready to charge forward.
She hurriedly pulled the reins and shouted to control the horse, barely managing to restrain it. Her heart raced, fearing that it might act up again and throw her off.
He leisurely rode over to her, smiling as he said, “Cramming at the last minute—isn’t it a bit late?”
There was a hint of mockery in his words, making her blush again.
If not for the upcoming Grand Archery and Riding Ceremony, she probably wouldn’t have made a special effort to practice her riding skills. Ultimately, she was simply afraid of embarrassing herself at the ceremony.
But he was supposed to be attending to state affairs at Ruisi Hall today, which was why he had sent someone else to accompany her to the training ground. How had he suddenly appeared here? Seeing that he hadn’t even changed his robes, she guessed he had come directly from Ruisi Hall.
Had he come specifically to tease her?
Thinking this, she retorted, “Is Your Majesty being reasonable? When do I ever have a moment of free time on normal days?”
He suppressed his smile and reached out to grab her horse’s reins, but she stubbornly held onto them, refusing to give them to him. His eyes brightened slightly as he stared at her for a while before mischievously giving her horse’s rump a hard kick.
She let out a “Ya!” as the horse suddenly bolted down the archery range, causing the leather cap on her head to fall off and her long hair to stream in the wind.
Although stubborn, this horse was a first-rate military mount.
He had instructed Di Nian to place this horse in the imperial stables, intentionally not having it gelded, preserving its brave and spirited nature.
The horse galloped with all its might, charging fiercely toward the distant pavilion.
She gasped for breath, struggling to steady herself amidst the jolting, leaning forward and to the left as the horse sped along. Gradually, she adapted to its fierce pace and managed to manipulate the reins to make it turn around.
As she turned, she saw the black steed leap to within a few paces of her.
Qing Yun immediately charged forward, unwilling to be outdone, racing alongside the black steed, its fiery mane flying in the wind.
Her hair occasionally covered her eyes as the two horses galloped back and forth. Everything around them seemed to stand still, leaving only the two of them in the world, with only the piercing sound of the wind in their ears and only the earth, sky, and him before her eyes.
Her heart gradually calmed, then began to beat fiercely again. She felt as if her blood was boiling, and she began to enjoy the exhilaration of riding at full speed.
In the distance, the palace walls looked blood-red in the setting sun, and beyond, the clouds on the horizon were dreamlike. She suddenly felt dazed, momentarily wishing she could ride with him out of the imperial city and into those distant mountains and plains.
He turned his horse around in front with a leap, stopping, and let out a sharp whistle that made Qing Yun also halt. The two horses slowed their pace and rode side by side along the archery range on their way back.
She was breathing heavily, raising her hand to push her disheveled hair behind her shoulders. She raised her eyebrows to look at him, seeing him observe her with evident enjoyment, which made her heart beat even faster.
This man was naturally drawn to such activities.
If he were not on the throne, he would surely have been a talented general or minister. If the heavy burdens on his shoulders were removed, his unrestrained elegance would be no less than that of any renowned scholar. If he were granted enough freedom, his brilliant talent would certainly have created poetry and prose that would endure through the ages.
But sitting on the imperial throne, how could he follow his heart’s desires and indulge himself fully?
And what virtue or ability did she possess to be worthy of his love?
He raised his hand to loosen his collar, also taking a deep breath, his gaze upon her growing brighter.
Being able to ride freely with her on the training ground within the palace was the best respite from the weariness of state affairs.
With her hands on the saddle, her cheeks flushed red, and her long hair cascading down when she turned her face, her riding figure was silhouetted perfectly against the slanting sun—a rare sight of grace and vigor.
“Meng Tinghui,” he nudged his horse closer to her, his gaze lingering on her face, his voice soft and low, “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
Her heart suddenly began to race wildly as she stared at him in a daze.
Though she knew she was far from being a stunningly beautiful woman, hearing him say such words made her heart feel as if it were soaked in honey. She didn’t even know how to respond.
Under the setting sun, they gazed at each other. After a long while, she finally lowered her head, pressing her lips together in a light smile. He also smiled, reaching out to gather her loose black hair.
Suddenly, someone came running quickly from outside, calling out from a distance, “Your Majesty, an urgent report from the Strategic Military Bureau!”