When Wenren Lin entered the training grounds, the rowdy Northern Wu people all reined in their horses and stopped.

The winter sun was pallid, gradually disappearing behind ink-wash clouds. A gray shadow invaded the earth, making Wenren Lin’s deep-set features even more pronounced, his dark red robe appearing blood-like.

In the viewing stands, the Great Xuan officials were both surprised and satisfied.

Eight full years had passed since that counteroffensive battle in the autumn of the tenth year of Tianyou. During these eight years, court officials had lived in constant fear, terrified of the crimson robe that Prince Su wore when dealing with corrupt officials. Now, however, they all craned their necks to watch the training grounds.

The Imperial Guard captain in charge of archery came forward and asked respectfully, “Your Highness, shall I have someone fetch your customary Lingyun bow?”

Wenren Lin had only come down to have some casual fun, so naturally, he just picked a standard six-jun bow.

He casually selected a black horse from those held by the handlers. His frost-white, slender hand patted the horse’s back before he gripped the saddle and vaulted onto the horse’s back, then gently squeezed with his legs and guided the reins forward at a steady pace.

He didn’t need to tie on a red headband; the fluttering red robe he wore was the most eye-catching marker.

The mounted archers from Great Xuan who had already taken the field regained their spirits and solemnly arranged themselves in formation behind him.

As the two armies faced each other, Wu Que spurred his horse forward and smiled at Wenren Lin, “It’s my honor to compete with the Great Xuan’s most powerful minister.”

…

…

His horse kept taking small, restless steps, seeming uneasy, forcing him to grip the reins tightly to maintain control.

Wenren Lin, however, sat perfectly balanced and said coldly, “Shooting copper coins is a child’s game, too simple. Let’s try something new.”

When these words were spoken, many people secretly shuddered.

To bend a bow and nock an arrow while on a galloping horse, to hit a tiny copper coin tossed in the air, and to have the arrow pin the coin to one’s target—how could this be called “simple”?

Wu Que narrowed his golden eyes, intrigued: “What new game?”

Several Imperial Guards had already removed the copper coins and replaced them with baskets. They lifted the red cloth covering the baskets to reveal fluffy, light goose feathers inside.

Wenren Lin spoke slowly: “Replace the copper coins with goose feathers. The same period as one incense stick burns. When time’s up, the winner will be determined by whoever has the most goose feathers pinned to their target by arrows.”

“Shooting feathers? Isn’t this match a bit arrogant?”

Outside the hall, on the viewing platform, several officials couldn’t help whispering to each other.

“The sky is overcast and windy, and goose feathers are light and unpredictable. The slightest air current will carry them away, let alone the chaotic air currents created while galloping on horseback. The feathers will fly about wildly. I fear they’ll be blown away by the wind from the arrows before they can be hit… tsk, the difficulty is too great.”

“Others might find it difficult to accomplish, but look who’s on the field? Let’s wait and see.”

Amid the continuous discussions around her, Zhao Yān stared unblinkingly at Wenren Lin on horseback, the corners of her mouth turning up in a very faint smile.

She had seen Wenren Lin’s archery skills before, so she wasn’t worried at all. What she was curious about was what exactly Wenren Lin intended to do.

“This game is indeed novel. I’ve never tried it before.”

On the training grounds, Wu Que straightened his back and said, “There are no cowards in Northern Wu. Let’s go!”

From the hastily constructed observation platform, the Imperial Guards waved flags to signal, and with a deep horn blast, fluffy goose feathers floated down with the wind like snow, and both teams of horses moved in response.

The steeds flew across the ground, causing the yellow sand of the training field to shake. Arrows from both sides whistled through the air among the fluttering feathers, and the whole field was filled with whooshing sounds.

However, for those without exceptional eyesight and arm strength, even if they targeted correctly, the feathers would be blown away by the air currents generated by the arrows or horses. Even among these one-in-a-million mounted archers, the success rate was only one or two out of ten.

Soon, many had emptied their quivers and had to retreat from the field in defeat. The only two still competing were Wu Que and Wenren Lin.

“How’s the battle going now?”

“Can’t see clearly. The feathers and dust are blocking the view.”

“This Northern Wu prince has an extremely high hit rate. He seems to hit a feather with almost every arrow… hiss, not good.”

The crowd stretched their necks to watch the contest, and even Zhao Yān unconsciously leaned forward slightly.

Wu Que felt he was performing exceptionally well and looked toward the Crown Prince’s direction, seemingly confident in winning over her sister.

As the last ash fell from the incense, Wenren Lin on horseback drew out his final arrow, nocked it to his bow, turned back, and released his fingers.

Wu Que, smiling as he controlled his horse, felt a chill at the side of his neck as the arrow silently flew past, piercing two floating feathers behind him and firmly pinning them to the Great Xuan’s red target.

Almost simultaneously, the gong sounded to end the competition; time was up.

Wu Que’s smile remained frozen on his face as he instinctively touched the side of his neck, where the cold sensation of the arrow passing by still lingered. His silver sable fur collar had been cut with a sharp slit. If the arrow had been off by just a fraction…

Wu Que gritted his teeth, his hot sweat instantly turning cold.

Yellow sand filled the air, and the entire field fell silent.

“Courtesy demands reciprocity. My hand slipped,” Wenren Lin said, lowering his bow with humble politeness.

But Wu Que inexplicably felt that under that man’s dark, contemptuous gaze, he was nothing but an ant with delusions of grandeur, with nowhere to hide. This arrow was both a warning and a retribution.

The Northern Wu people snapped out of their shock, their faces and necks flushing red as they muttered in their language, wanting to come forward and argue, but Wu Que raised his hand to stop them.

As the rolling dust settled, the targets became visible to everyone.

People in the stands all leaned forward to look at both sides’ targets. When they saw clearly, there was a collective gasp.

Wenren Lin’s target was covered with arrows, each one piercing multiple goose feathers, creating a dense patch of white.

The Imperial Guard responsible for counting raised a red flag and shouted: “Great Xuan, seven men with two hundred and ten arrows total. Target One: five feathers. Target Two: seven feathers. Target Three…”

The counting guard paused for a long time, counting and recounting, before announcing in a voice trembling with excitement: “Target Three, Prince Su: eighty-three feathers!”

Eighty-three feathers!

Each person’s quiver contained only thirty arrows, meaning that every arrow Wenren Lin shot had pierced at least two or even three feathers!

On the Northern Wu targets, besides Wu Que’s twenty-six feathers, the others had only scattered few, requiring no further counting! The result was obvious at a glance!

The Northern Wu people, having their faces ground into the dirt by Wenren Lin in their own specialty of mounted archery, immediately stiffened their expressions. Even Wu Que stared at the target with eighty-three feathers, sinking into a long silence.

“Excellent!” Zhao Yān stood up, taking the lead in applauding. Her slender figure radiated proud light from her eyes.

The officials awoke as if from a dream and all followed, clapping vigorously and cheering. The Emperor nodded in approval, slapping his thigh, and immediately awarded Prince Su’s manor with a strong bow that Northern Wu had presented as tribute.

To reward the victor with a strong bow presented by the defeated party was an extreme humiliation for the Northern Wu people, whose expressions became incredibly varied as they left the field with lowered banners.

Wenren Lin didn’t look at his results on the target, as if they weren’t worth mentioning. The cheers and excitement of the crowd had nothing to do with him.

He untied the string on his sleeve and handed it to Zhang Cang, then sat back in his chair with a cold demeanor, frowning as he brushed off a bit of dust from his lower garment.

With his seat as the center, the applauding officials around him faltered and awkwardly fell silent, no one daring to come forward with congratulations.

Wenren Lin expressionlessly rotated his hand, his knuckles white and slender, his fingertips feeling slightly rough when rubbed together. The dust from the training grounds was too heavy, and the dirty feeling made him extremely uncomfortable. He wished he could shed this layer of skin and immerse himself in water to wash clean.

Just as he was preparing to leave his seat, a delicate white hand secretly reached out from under the seat in the opposite direction, handing him a clean, damp silk handkerchief.

Wenren Lin followed the hand with his eyes to see Zhao Yān sitting properly, gazing forward, but with her lips uncontrollably curving upward.

Seeing no reaction from the person beside her, the slender hand gently tugged at Wenren Lin’s sleeve, then poked his leg, silently urging him.

Ripples spread across the bottom of Wenren Lin’s eyes as he imperceptibly accepted the damp handkerchief she passed over, his fingertips barely tracing her cool palm.

The delicate white fingers trembled and immediately curled up like a shy flower, withdrawing.

Wenren Lin sat casually, rotating his wrist as he cleaned each finger with the damp handkerchief, a brief curve passing over his lips.

Zhang Cang, standing behind the two, saw this scene clearly and couldn’t help but rub the goosebumps on his arms. He then stepped forward importantly, glaring around to block any possibility of onlookers peeping.

At dusk, as darkness began to fall, the archery exhibition concluded with Wenren Lin’s earth-shattering eighty-three feathers.

Zhao Yān did not use the Eastern Palace carriage but followed Wenren Lin’s footsteps along the palace path, planning to take a shortcut back to the Eastern Palace.

“Grand Tutor!”

Zhao Yān was in a good mood today and, seeing no outsiders nearby, walked shoulder to shoulder with Wenren Lin.

Unexpectedly, Wenren Lin frowned and stepped away.

Zhao Yān was startled for a moment but stubbornly moved closer again. Wenren Lin glanced at her and directly reached out to turn her head away, creating a one-step distance.

“What’s wrong?” Zhao Yān’s smile faded, somewhat confused.

Wenren Lin laughed softly and said in a low voice, “I’m covered in dust from the training grounds, very dirty. Your Highness should keep your distance.”

Zhao Yān let out a breath of relief, looking at Wenren Lin’s still vibrant crimson princely robe and frost-jade cold face. She tucked her sleeves and smiled, “Where are you dirty?”

As she spoke, she adjusted her steps, making her shadow in the lamplight move forward to join with Wenren Lin’s.

Wenren Lin saw her little action but didn’t expose it.

“The Eastern Palace bathing room is very spacious. If you don’t mind,” Zhao Yān lowered her eyelashes and said softly, “if you don’t mind, go there for a bath. It will be much more comfortable. Besides, the clothes you left behind last time have been washed clean.”

Wenren Lin’s lips curved slightly as he said, “All right.”

In the Eastern Palace bathing room, the branched floor lamps were brightly lit with candles. Zhao Yān sat on a small couch outside the screen, listening to the splashing water inside, her thoughts gradually beginning to drift.

Those amazing archery skills on the training grounds could not be dismissed with “just moving the lips, not counting as taking action.”

“Grand Tutor,” she called out.

As if seeing through her thoughts, Wenren Lin leaned against the edge of the bath and said, “This prince did not act for Great Xuan.”

If not for Great Xuan, then for whom?

The answer was obvious, ready to burst forth.

Zhao Yān didn’t continue to pursue the question, nor did she presumptuously demand that Wenren Lin take another step back for her.

Her hand, propped on the couch, gently curled as she smiled softly: “No matter who it was for, I’m quite happy! Thirty arrows, eighty-three feathers—it’s the first time in my life I’ve felt so proud and triumphant.”

She lowered her voice a bit, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at her raised toes: “I also want to become the Grand Tutor’s pride.”

The sound of water behind the screen stopped, with no response for a long while.

Zhao Yān realized what she had said and felt that her words were somewhat embarrassingly grandiose, instantly regretting it so much she could have bitten off her tongue.

“Today was an exception. This prince was truly displeased with the Northern Wu people and did not intend for Your Highness to promise anything in return,” Wenren Lin seemed to be smiling. “Of course, if Your Highness wishes to repay me, this prince will gladly accept it all.”

Prince Su’s manor lacked nothing, so how could she “repay” him?

The bathing room suddenly became heated, and Zhao Yān uncomfortably cleared her throat.

In this silence that inspired wandering thoughts, Wenren Lin spoke again: “Unfortunately, it will have to wait a while. Tomorrow this prince departs for Luo Province.”

The peaceful pool water instantly shattered into light patterns as Zhao Yān froze, her heart seeming to drop.

Looking up, she saw a tall, strong shadow cast on the screen, unclothed, the lines of muscles and waist clearly visible.

“So soon?” she murmured, still unable to recover.

But thinking carefully, the matter in Luo Province remained unresolved, with rumors of the former dynasty’s crown prince attempting to restore the throne. Her father, the Emperor, indeed would not delay any longer.

Wenren Lin stepped out of the bath, casually wrapping a large towel from the screen around himself, and walked out dripping wet.

Zhao Yān instinctively clutched the folded clothes at her side, but saw Wenren Lin bend down close to her. A drop of water slid from his Adam’s apple across his collarbone, then down his hard chest and stomach, disappearing into the casually wrapped towel.

Wenren Lin maintained his bent posture, the water from his chin resting on Zhao Yān’s curled hand. He lowered his wet eyelashes and reminded her at his leisure: “Your Highness is pressing on this prince’s undergarments.”

Zhao Yān suddenly came to her senses, withdrew her hand, and the soft fabric was pulled from under her palm.

But Wenren Lin did not immediately put them on, only slightly turning his head to kiss Zhao Yān’s earlobe.

“There’s still time tonight,” he said, his dark eyes filled with deep amusement, bewitching as a demon.