Ji Cheng swiftly tied her hair into a neat bun with a few deft movements of her elbow. She applied her eyebrows with two quick strokes of the eyebrow pencil, not bothering with powder. Opening her portable rouge box, she carelessly used her finger to smear the rose-scented lip color onto her lips.
Shen Che had once waited for another woman to apply her makeup. Just drawing those two crescent-shaped eyebrows had taken half an hour, pursuing perfection beyond perfection. Even a single misplaced eyebrow hair would be meticulously plucked. He had waited an hour for that exquisite makeup session; no one was more demanding of beauty than her. As for other women, while perhaps not so extreme, they still typically needed at least a quarter of an hour.
Yet the woman before him now had a makeup routine that could only be described as crude, completing everything in just a few quick motions.
Shen Che found this peculiar. He began to tease Ji Cheng, hoping to slow her movements, “I was originally puzzled. I’ve seen Tianhe’s horsemanship before, and it couldn’t have improved so rapidly in such a short time. I never expected it was Little Sister Cheng substituting for him.”
Ji Cheng thought to herself, ‘What’s there to be puzzled about? You’re just an old fox playing dumb.’ Aloud, she said, “Elder Cousin Che, you recognized it was me instead of my elder brother from the start, didn’t you?”
Shen Che rubbed his nose, watching as Ji Cheng deftly inserted hairpins into her bun without even using a mirror, relying solely on touch. Surprisingly, it didn’t look bad at all. It had an indescribable, effortless beauty.
Shen Che didn’t answer Ji Cheng’s question. He had indeed recognized her female disguise early on. With Shen Che’s extensive experience with women, Ji Cheng’s impersonation of Ji Yuan carried an unmistakable feminine air. Moreover, the faint fragrance emanating from her body was perceptible even through several layers of clothing.
Seeing Shen Che’s silence, Ji Cheng knew he was tacitly agreeing. As this matter involved Ji Yuan, she didn’t want Shen Che to think her brother had sent her to gain fame. After all, she had little reputation to speak of in his eyes anyway. So Ji Cheng turned to Shen Che and explained, “My elder brother sprained his foot while practicing polo recently. I thought playing polo looked fun, so I begged him to let me try. He only agreed because he couldn’t refuse me.”
It wasn’t clear if Shen Che had heard Ji Cheng’s explanation. He just narrowed his eyes, tilted his head back, and said, “Why did you paint yourself to look like such a mess?” Shen Che scrutinized Ji Cheng’s made-up face. Her eyebrows were thick and masculine, while the rouge was applied only to the center of her lips, about the size of a cherry, looking quite strange.
Ji Cheng wanted to roll her eyes at Shen Che. She had no desire to be mistaken for a dancing girl. Impersonating Zhang E’er was already a last resort. Though she couldn’t truly change her appearance, a woman’s makeup was a kind of disguise in itself. If not transforming into another person entirely, at least altering one’s appearance slightly was possible.
As soon as Shen Che finished speaking, he immediately guessed Ji Cheng’s intention and laughed, “Such a beauty, why play the thief?”
Ji Cheng immediately glared at Shen Che. The term “beauty” was flirtatious, while “playing the thief” referred to sneaking around, unwilling to show one’s true face. Ji Cheng felt Shen Che’s words held hidden meaning. Not wanting to continue the conversation and risk saying too much, she stood up, straightened her dress, and walked towards the door.
At the doorway, Ji Cheng poked her head out to check if anyone was there. Seeing no one, she confidently pushed the door open and hurried out. However, she heard Shen Che call from behind, “I see you’re running so nimbly now, not at all like someone who’s injured. You should continue playing in the second half.”
Ji Cheng was furious. Unable to contain herself, she turned back to Shen Che and mouthed “You jerk!” before continuing to run. She had already heard the drums signaling the end of the first half. Shen Cui was scheduled to perform first and was surely looking for her everywhere by now.
Sure enough, when Shen Cui saw Ji Cheng, she angrily said, “Where have you been? I’ve been searching everywhere for you, and we’re about to go on stage.”
Ji Cheng was too out of breath to respond, only waving at Shen Cui to be quiet. Getting on with the performance was the priority now; they had invested countless hours preparing for this center-stage performance.
Suddenly, darkness fell, and the spectators began to clamor. Soon, candlelight appeared in the darkness, first as a faint glow, then gradually increasing until the center stage was surrounded by candlelight. The audience saw the most dazzling flower bud at the center—Shen Cui—surrounded by dancers forming flower petals with their fans.
Murmurs arose from the crowd about how extravagant the Shen family’s third branch was. The polo field was enormous, yet they had managed to cover the entire area with a massive curtain, instantly transforming day into night.
“Wispy clouds playfully obscure, shooting stars convey longing, as the Milky Way silently spans the divide. When the golden wind and jade dew allow a single chance meeting, it surpasses countless moments in the mortal realm.”
Shen Cui’s voice rang out in the quiet night, ethereal and beautiful. The entire field seemed to be enveloped by her nightingale-like singing. This effect was thanks to Ji Cheng’s clever idea.
Nine water jars had been newly buried beneath the center stage to create an echo effect, making Shen Cui’s voice sound even more enchanting. In the darkness, everyone’s attention was easily drawn to the sole source of light. All eyes and ears were fixed on Shen Cui.
The lyrics were exquisitely beautiful: “Tender emotions flow like water, this precious moment feels like a dream, reluctant to face the return journey across the Magpie Bridge. If two hearts could remain entwined forever, why fret over seeing each other from dawn to dusk?”
The line “If two hearts could remain entwined forever, why fret over seeing each other from dawn to dusk?” was particularly memorable. People found themselves savoring every word, breaking it down and analyzing it in detail.
As for Ji Cheng and the others performing the fan dance, they had become mere accompaniments to Shen Cui. At times, they formed a Magpie Bridge with their fans, elevating Shen Cui to the status of a goddess. At other times, they transformed into a peony flower, gradually blooming to reveal Shen Cui inside. Then they would become waves surrounding her.
This performance was perhaps the most spectacular in the history of center-stage presentations. As the curtain fell and was lifted away, everyone blinked for quite sometime before their eyes readjusted to the daylight.
It was easy to imagine that once the final match ended, this poem would spread throughout the streets and alleys, and the fame of the Shen family’s Fifth Miss would travel far and wide.
Ji Cheng had no time to revel in Shen Cui’s excitement. She needed to hurry back and change into her other clothes, preparing to remount her horse for the match.
At the end of the first half, the Chuyang Society was trailing the Peach Blossom Society by three points. If they couldn’t turn the tide, they would lose their chance at becoming the champion team. Chu Zhen felt relieved seeing Ji Cheng return to the field. Before Ji Cheng had left, they were only one point behind. Once she departed, Chu Zhen and Shen Jing lost their strong support, quickly falling behind by three points.
Chu Zhen waved his polo mallet at Ji Cheng as she reentered the field, then spurred his horse forward, signaling her to follow. Although they had only played three matches together, their rapport seemed to have developed quickly. Chu Zhen felt that Ji Cheng could understand his every intention, passing the ball at just the right moment. Without Ji Cheng, Chu Zhen believed their society would have had no hope of reaching the finals. Even their match against the Lanping Society had been extremely difficult, with Ji Cheng’s entry barely securing a one-point victory.
Back on the field, Ji Cheng naturally gave her all in supporting her teammates. She had no desire to stand out, as it would make it too easy for Ji Yuan to be exposed later. Unlike other players who always harbored thoughts of making a name for themselves, she would never do so. While individual skill was certainly important in polo, the key to success lay in teamwork.
With Ji Cheng as such a selfless supporter, Chu Zhen and Shen Jing naturally found her easy to work with. Moreover, Ji Yuan was, after all, one of the top students at Dongshan Academy. His mind was far sharper than those of certain young nobles who relied solely on brute force, allowing for accurate judgments of the situation on the field.
About a quarter of an hour into the second half, the Chuyang Society had narrowed the gap to just one point.
The Peach Blossom Society’s place in the finals was no fluke. Their captain also recognized Ji Cheng’s importance and gritted his teeth, reassigning a player from guarding Shen Jing to guarding Ji Cheng instead. He even hinted that breaking the rules wouldn’t be a problem as long as they could tightly contain Ji Cheng.
As a result, Ji Cheng now had two Peach Blossom Society members watching her closely. They were fearless in their charging and grabbing, seemingly disregarding their safety. Ji Cheng, however, valued her life dearly and wanted to avoid injury if possible. A girl’s bones couldn’t withstand falls easily, and marrying her looks would be even worse.
While Ji Cheng’s polo skills might not necessarily surpass those of Chu Zhen and Shen Jing, she had the unique advantage of being a woman. Since childhood, she has been agile and flexible. Things others found impossible, she could do with ease—lifting her legs, doing splits, or somersaults were all child’s play to her. Even more impressively, when she was young and mischievous, Madam Yun would tie her up with rope to prevent her from running off to play, but she could always wriggle free from the bindings in no time.
With such natural talent, combined with Little Grey, her exceptional horse, Ji Cheng was as slippery as a fish. The Peach Blossom Society players couldn’t even touch her to trip her up unless they were willing to blatantly break the rules.
Soon, the Chuyang Society had caught up to the Peach Blossom Society, with only about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea left in the match. Seeing Ji Cheng gain possession of the ball again, Hu Rui threw caution to the wind. Being penalized or banned didn’t matter anymore; all that mattered was ensuring the Peach Blossom Society took first place.
Ji Cheng remained vigilant, knowing that the most crucial moments required the utmost attention. Though she didn’t have eyes on her back, the wind whistling past her ears told her something was amiss. So, despite having the ball poised on her mallet ready to pass, she leaned her body forward. The ball wasn’t released, and the mallet swinging at her from behind was about to miss. Hu Rui changed direction mid-swing, aiming his mallet at Ji Cheng’s, threatening not only the ball but potentially her arm as well.
Ji Cheng hadn’t prepared for this kind of attack. With her body already leaning forward, inertia prevented her from changing direction quickly. Furious at this underhanded move, she was even more determined not to let him have the ball. So Ji Cheng employed her “Dragon Swimming” technique. Her body slid along the horse’s belly, barely avoiding Hu Rui’s sweeping mallet as she slipped under the horse. She still gripped her mallet, relying solely on one hand to hold the reins. She had to move quickly, like an eel, sliding to the other side of the horse’s belly before swinging back up into the saddle. Remarkably, after this highly difficult maneuver, the ball remained firmly on her mallet as if glued there. Ji Cheng then passed the ball to Chu Zhen, who was about ten feet away.
Hu Rui was stunned. How could anyone dodge like that? Although he had prepared himself for people’s scorn, that was assuming he had succeeded. But now, he hadn’t even managed to stop “Ji Yuan.”
The spectators had seen Hu Rui’s actions, and the entire field erupted in an uproar. Shen Yu, watching “Ji Yuan’s” Dragon Swimming technique from the stands, narrowed his eyes. Could Ji Yuan perform this move that even he couldn’t execute, just like his sister?