“Me? Just a horse trainer.” The young woman held an iron-tipped staff behind her back, playfully swaying it, speaking in a light tone.

“Yan’er?” He Sui froze, then quietly scolded, “What nonsense are you talking?”

He Yan ignored He Sui, focusing only on Young Master Zhao, asking, “Would Young Master like to try?”

Young Master Zhao was one to cherish beauty. Though the young woman wore a veil, her eyes hinted at fine features. Moreover, one shouldn’t reject a smiling face. Her voice was clear and sweet—surely she was a beauty. When such a delicate beauty made a request, he naturally went along.

“Miss, you should know this horse is fierce. If you were injured, I would be distressed.” He kindly reminded her, feeling quite gallant.

But as soon as he finished speaking, the young woman laughed. The next moment, there was a blur of vermilion robes like flying petals, bringing a fragrant breeze. When he looked again, He Yan sat properly on horseback, holding the reins.

The horse had been held by He Sui, who hadn’t expected He Yan to suddenly mount. His hand loosened, dropping the rope. The fierce horse startled, immediately letting out a long neigh and rearing up.

“Yan’er—” He Sui cried out in alarm, and He Yunsheng also jumped in fright.

He Yan remained calm, simply letting go of the reins to grab the horse’s mane. Her grip was firm and tight; despite the horse’s struggles, she didn’t fall. She lowered her body, putting her ear next to the horse’s ear, making a series of strange gurgling sounds.

Strangely, gradually, the fierce horse stopped struggling. Its raised hooves returned to the ground, slowly calming down.

Everyone was amazed.

“Yan’er, quickly come down—” He Sui’s heart finally settled, urgently reaching out to He Yan, “Don’t get hurt.”

He Yunsheng finally came to his senses. The youth bit his lip, face pale, voice trembling, “You… come down quickly! Do you not care about your life?”

“Hahaha,” Young Master Zhao, who had been stunned, suddenly burst out laughing, “I didn’t expect Miss to be such an expert. In that case,” he mounted his horse, “how about a race?”

He cut quite a dashing figure.

He Yan smiled slightly, “Then Young Master should be careful. I told you, I’m a horse trainer.” After saying this, she reached out and slapped the horse’s rump, and the horse galloped off in a cloud of dust!

“Not using a whip?” Young Master Zhao muttered, then cracked his whip, “Go!”

The two horses kicked up rolling clouds of dust on the track, leaving behind a crowd of dumbfounded onlookers.

He Sui slowly turned his head to look at He Yunsheng, who quickly defended himself, “Don’t ask me, I don’t know when she learned to ride either!”

He Sui felt as if in a dream.

He knew his daughter best. She was passable at the four arts, and excellent at dressing up, but when it came to horseback riding and swordsmanship, forget being skilled—she would roll her eyes at the mere mention. He Yan liked those refined young gentlemen, enjoyed tasting tea, discussing poetry, and appreciating flowers under the moonlight. These rough activities she avoided, afraid of damaging her delicate skin.

Yet her mounting motion was so practiced, as if she’d done it countless times before, even surpassing him, her father. And that fierce horse—under her hand it was as docile as a kitten. She didn’t even use a whip? How did she do it?

He Sui looked toward the figure on the track.

The fierce horse he couldn’t tame moved as gracefully as the wind under He Yan. Her posture was elegant; because the long skirt was inconvenient, she had pushed it aside to reveal the pants underneath. Far from looking crude, it gave her an indescribable free-spirited air.

Young Master Zhao couldn’t catch up to her.

Young Master Zhao was getting annoyed.

He had come to the training ground to show off, not to lose face. Earlier, toying with He Sui had amused him, but what was this girl about? He couldn’t lose to a woman, especially one riding an untamed horse. Was he to become a laughingstock?

Absolutely not!

Suddenly, Young Master Zhao felt a surge of competitiveness. He whipped his steed harder; the horse, in pain, rushed forward, seemingly about to overtake He Yan.

Yes, just like this. Watching He Yan’s figure draw closer, Young Master Zhao couldn’t help feeling smug. He had learned to ride at seven—how could he possibly lose to a woman after all these years?

His horse finally passed He Yan.

Young Master Zhao laughed loudly: “Miss, you’ll need to try harder!”

“Young Master is so mighty,” He Yan’s voice carried a hint of surprise, “This is the first time someone has caught up to me.”

As she spoke, her hand moved to the iron-tipped staff swaying at her waist. With Young Master Zhao’s horse in front and hers behind, the staff’s end just happened to poke the horse’s rump.

No one noticed this slight irregularity, except for Young Master Zhao’s horse.

The startled horse suddenly stumbled. Young Master Zhao was caught off guard; his hand loosened, dropping the whip. The next moment, his horse wouldn’t respond to commands, running wild. Young Master Zhao was at a loss, pulling the reins tight to no effect.

“St-stop!” he screamed, dizzy from being jolted on horseback.

A woman’s urgent voice came from behind, “Young Master Zhao? Young Master Zhao, are you alright?”

“Save… save me!” Young Master Zhao’s voice turned tearful with fear, “Make it stop!”

From a distance, He Yunsheng frowned, “What’s happening? Why do I hear that Zhao fellow crying for help?”

He Sui startled. At the end of the track, of the two horses galloping back toward them, Young Master Zhao’s was in front, but he had no whip and was instead clutching the reins while wailing. Behind him, He Yan called out anxiously but sat as steady as a mountain on horseback.

“Young Master Zhao’s horse seems spooked.” He Sui hurried to get a horse from the stable, “I’ll go help!”

“Young Master… oh Young Master,” the servant’s face turned ashen, “You can’t get hurt!”

Young Master Zhao howled on horseback, his voice miserable. He Yan freed one hand to rub her ear—so noisy.

Such an arrogant boy—if she didn’t scare him half to death, she wouldn’t be He Yan. Back in the army, there were plenty of recruits who thought themselves superior and talented, but didn’t they all eventually face reality? In this world, there’s always someone better; it’s best to stay humble.

Having enjoyed the show enough, and seeing He Sui starting to lead a horse over, He Yan slapped her horse’s rump again. The horse stopped, and she dismounted like lightning, holding the iron-tipped staff across the neck of Young Master Zhao’s horse. The horse suddenly stopped, standing in place. He Yan grabbed the reins and called out: “Whoa—”

The horse quieted down.

The wind stirred, lifting the white veil, and offering a fleeting glimpse of the woman’s face before it was quickly covered again by the misty white.

“It’s over.” She said to the weeping man on horseback, “You can come down now, Young Master Zhao.”

“Wuu—wuu—”

Young Master Zhao began sobbing.