Huaiwei’s ‘displeasure’ and ‘resentment’ toward his fourth brother always came and went quickly. On the day of departure, seated in the carriage thinking of how he had refused to let Pu Zhu come, he had been indignant. Yet after only ten days or so of not seeing the man, he found himself somewhat missing him — after all, this was someone who had once saved his life. Now seeing him appear, he decided to temporarily set aside any grievances and eagerly waved to him: ‘Fourth Brother, come over! They’re trying to give hunting hawks to Sister-in-law!’
Li Xuandu walked over.
The Persian prince and Shangguan’s seventh son and the others, seeing him arrive, all came forward to pay their respects.
Li Xuandu gave a slight nod and said to Prince Weichi: ‘I appreciate the prince’s kind intentions on behalf of my consort. Since you have raised this eagle for many years, I would not dare deprive you of something so cherished — please keep it for your own use.’
Huaiwei grew anxious: ‘Sister-in-law wants it!’
Li Xuandu fixed him with a look.
Whatever small measure of goodwill Huaiwei had managed to painstakingly rebuild toward him evaporated entirely the moment he spoke. There was considerable resentment in his heart. But under the pressure of that gaze, he did not dare say another word, and could only make exaggerated faces at Pu Zhu.
On the question of not accepting gifts, Pu Zhu found herself in rare agreement with Li Xuandu. She paid no attention to Huaiwei’s signals and turned to Prince Weichi, saying with a smile: ‘Thank you for your generous offer, Your Highness — I am grateful for the sentiment.’
Weichi Shengde had studied Chinese culture since childhood and was an open and forthright person by nature. A moment ago he had caught sight of a beautiful woman approaching by the water and had been unable to stop himself from looking twice. Only when Han Chijiao called her ‘Little Aunt’ did he realize she was the Prince of Qin’s consort.
He had been in the capital for only a few months of study, but in those months he had heard a great deal about Prince of Qin Li Xuandu, including the matter of whom he had married. He hadn’t expected to meet her like this, and even less expected her to be such a strikingly beautiful woman. He had impulsively stepped forward to offer the eagle.
The consort would not accept it, but he had already opened his mouth and made the offer. With this young Western Di prince clearly looking envious, if he simply took it back, he would be looked down upon.
So Weichi Shengde said he would transfer it as a gift to the young prince instead.
Huaiwei was overjoyed and was about to accept when Li Xuandu and Pu Zhu simultaneously called out: ‘Huaiwei!’
Huaiwei turned around and saw the two of them staring at him together. Knowing the gift was not going to be accepted today, he pressed his lips together with dissatisfaction and reluctantly withdrew his hand.
Han Chijiao was passionate about hawks, and so was this Weichi Shengde — the two had just been at each other’s throats over whose hunting hawk was superior. His attempt to offer the hawk and curry favor had been unexpectedly matched by Weichi’s similar gesture. He had been worried about being outdone, so seeing Pu Zhu reject the white eagle, he quietly breathed a sigh of relief. He still wanted to show off and interjected: ‘Little Uncle, I heard that when you were young, you were the finest hawk-handler in the capital. Take a look at my hawks — they’re all top-grade!’
Li Xuandu looked over the several hunting hawks perched on the falconer’s arm and gave a nod: ‘They’re passable.’
Han Chijiao was unsatisfied: ‘Little Uncle, speak plainly — what’s wrong with my hunting hawks?’
Li Xuandu said: ‘Eagles come from beyond the eastern sea. The most prized are called the Sea Eagle of the East. Pure white is finest, white with mixed feathers next, grey after that. If one is pure white with jade beak and jade talons, that is the mark of a truly exceptional specimen.’
Everyone crowded around to hear him lecture on eagles.
Weichi Shengde was somewhat pleased with himself and pointed to his white eagle, saying to Han Chijiao: ‘My Mountain Snow is a Sea Eagle of the East — white without a single mixed feather, jade beak and jade talons — far superior to your mixed-color bird!’
Han Chijiao’s dark face flushed slightly red.
Li Xuandu rested the white eagle on his palm, weighed it, then loosened a red soft-leather strap from the gold ring binding its talons. Released, the eagle spread its wings and shot into the sky.
Li Xuandu studied the eagle’s silhouette in the air.
‘Just now we were only discussing physical appearance. The finest hunting eagle weighs about three jin and five liang — too heavy and it lacks swiftness, too light and it’s fit only for hunting wild geese. When released, it can soar straight up into the blue until invisible in a breath’s time, yet when it dives, wings fully spread, they can reach three feet across, capable of bringing down an elk. As for the prince’s bird — judging by its flight posture and bearing — it qualifies as superior grade, but cannot yet be called truly exceptional.’
Weichi Shengde fell silent as well.
The various young nobles looked at their own hawks and falcons, no one speaking.
Huaiwei stared wide-eyed: ‘Fourth Brother, you actually know all this? How come you never mentioned it before?’
Li Xuandu paid him no attention. His expression turned serious: ‘His Majesty has traveled a long way and has just arrived at the traveling palace to rest. Yet you dare to gather here making a disturbance — quite bold. Evening is approaching. Disperse at once and each return to your own tent!’
Everyone hurriedly commanded their falconers to retrieve the hawks and quickly scattered.
Once everyone had gone, Li Xuandu told A’Liu to take Huaiwei back to the traveling palace. After Huaiwei left, reluctant and unhappy, only he and Pu Zhu remained by the water. His expression cooled and he spoke: ‘Why did you come? Did I not tell you to wait at home?’
Pu Zhu said: ‘The Grand Empress Dowager summoned me.’
‘Why would Imperial Grandmother summon you for no reason?’
He looked at her with a face full of suspicion: ‘Could it be that you went and harassed her?’
His guess wasn’t far from wrong. Had it not been for the disturbance from the Accumulated Virtue Palace side that day, she had indeed been planning to visit the Penglai Palace to look in on things. But she would naturally not admit before him to something she had only considered but not carried out.
Pu Zhu flatly denied it: ‘No! If you don’t believe me, go ask Luo Bao — he came too!’
Pu Zhu had been about to tell him how she had been summoned and harassed by the Empress Dowager Chen after his departure, hoping to earn his sympathy, when she heard him say: ‘Enough. You may stay tonight, but tomorrow I will have Ye Xiao escort you back.’
Pu Zhu almost thought she had misheard and widened her eyes: ‘What did you say?’
‘Tomorrow I will have Ye Xiao escort you back.’
He looked at her face, which was shimmering with the rippling light reflected off the water, and repeated his words.
Pu Zhu was furious and gave a cold laugh instead: ‘The Grand Empress Dowager summoned me — why should I not be allowed to stay? I’m not going back no matter what!’
She paused.
‘If you truly don’t want to see me, I’ll stay in my Western Garden and won’t come to bother you. Rest assured!’
She left him and turned to walk away. The more she thought about it as she walked, the angrier she became. She entered the traveling palace, and as she approached the Western Garden, her footsteps faltered slightly.
Li Chengyu and Crown Prince’s Consort Yao Hanzhen were walking toward her from the opposite direction. By the time she noticed them, it was too late — they had already come face to face, with no way to avoid it.
Li Chengyu walked at the front with a gloomy expression. He suddenly saw Pu Zhu, his steps slowed, and he stopped. His gaze fixed on her, his lips moving slightly as though he wanted to greet her, but very quickly he pressed them tightly shut again, just standing there in silence, looking at her.
Yao Hanzhen also stopped. She glanced at Li Chengyu and then looked at Pu Zhu. Her own expression was not entirely pleasant. After a pause, she managed to force a faint smile and called out ‘Imperial Aunt.’
She was a year older than Pu Zhu.
Pu Zhu returned the courtesy, addressing her as Crown Prince’s Consort, and suspected from their manner that the two had just been having an argument.
Yao Hanzhen’s expression quickly returned to normal, becoming as if nothing had happened. She looked toward the Western Garden and said with a smile: ‘What a coincidence — I never expected to be staying so close to Imperial Aunt. Where is Imperial Uncle? Why don’t I see him coming to stay here?’
Pu Zhu felt awkward inside, but kept smiling: ‘His Majesty has entrusted him and General Chen with overall management of affairs — with thousands of matters to attend to, and the grand ceremony tomorrow that can’t go wrong, there are too many people looking for him. It’s more convenient for him to stay outside.’
Yao Hanzhen gave a soft ‘oh’ and nodded: ‘Imperial Aunt, I have long heard of your great name and wished to grow closer to you. When we were in the capital I found it inconvenient to leave the palace, but now is the perfect opportunity. If I come to visit you often, you won’t find it a bother, will you?’
Pu Zhu said: ‘Of course not — Crown Prince’s Consort, do come whenever you like.’
Yao Hanzhen seemed about to say more, but Li Chengyu had already shown signs of impatience. He said something curt and walked away briskly.
Yao Hanzhen resented him for not giving her face. She resented even more the so-called ‘Imperial Aunt’ standing before her — the one who had caused the rift between herself and Li Chengyu. She silently ground her teeth and managed a strained smile at Pu Zhu, then took her people and followed after him.
Pu Zhu watched the two figures disappear, and the smile at the corners of her lips faded.
In her previous life, the reason she had been unable to bear children was because of Yao Hanzhen’s machinations — she had nearly lost her life over it. It wasn’t until years later that she obtained the evidence, and only then was Yao Hanzhen sent to the cold palace by Li Chengyu.
Though in the end she had been the final victor, that did not mean Yao Hanzhen had not been a formidable opponent.
On the contrary, her methods were even more ruthless than Pu Zhu’s own, and her heart more cruel — at the very least, Pu Zhu would never take the initiative to harm someone. She couldn’t do that.
In this life she had originally intended to simply repeat her previous life’s path, in which case dealing with Yao Hanzhen would be straightforward enough. Who could have imagined that now she had become that woman’s ‘Imperial Aunt by marriage’? And though their positions had changed, Yao Hanzhen’s hostility toward her was clearly no less than it had been in her previous life.
The people she needed to guard against and deal with in this life — besides the smiling-faced Princess Imperial and Yao Hanzhen from her previous life — now also included Empress Shangguan, Empress Dowager Chen, Li Qiongyao, and right, Li Xuandu’s former fiancée Xiao Shi!
She was completely surrounded by enemies on all sides, ambushed from every direction. All of them wished she were dead.
Pu Zhu’s mood, already poor, grew even worse.
She entered the Western Garden, only to discover that Huaiwei was still sulking over the matter of not getting the hunting hawk. Pu Zhu could only set aside her own emotions and go comfort him first, promising she would definitely get him the finest hawk available. Only then did Huaiwei cheer up.
That night, Li Xuandu did not come to the Western Garden.
The next day, before the fifth watch, the officials assigned specific responsibility for managing the hunt led large contingents of soldiers to close the circle. By daybreak, they had closed off a great encirclement with a diameter of dozens of li. Within the circle, deer, rabbits, and various other wild animals churned about in a frenzy, jumping and darting everywhere. The Emperor then led his ministers, guards, and personal attendants into the circle where, according to rank and station, they hunted in turn.
While the men engaged in the hunt on that side, the noble ladies on this side were not content to be left out.
This dynasty had been founded through military might, and generations of emperors had placed great importance on frontier affairs. With the great nation receiving tribute from all directions, the prevailing ethos was such that if a noblewoman could not ride a horse, she would be considered a laughingstock.
The ladies also had their own enclosed circle — smaller, spanning only a few li, and the animals within had been pre-screened by guards, leaving only smaller creatures like rabbits and badgers for the noble ladies to hunt for sport. The noble ladies were divided into two groups: one led by Princess Imperial Li Lihua and Crown Prince’s Consort Yao Hanzhen, and the other by Lady of the State of Zheng, Xiao Shi, and others.
After the encirclement was closed, the noble ladies rode their horses and, with the assistance of guards, chased after the panicking rabbits and small foxes that darted about everywhere. Arrows flew frequently, and laughter rang out without ceasing.
Pu Zhu had never been particularly interested in hunting, and her relationships with both groups were awkward, so she did not join them in the encirclement.
But she was in fine spirits today. The annoyance and gloom from the previous day had completely vanished, because that morning she had unexpectedly received a red horse from Han Rongchang.
Han Rongchang was offering it out of genuine gratitude for her earlier warning — heartfelt and sincere — so Pu Zhu felt it would be ungracious to decline.
She was very fond of this red horse: not only was it beautiful, it was also intelligent. After she fed it a few handfuls of tender wheat, it recognized her as its owner and became quite affectionate with her.
A practice ground had been set aside near the traveling palace, and Pu Zhu took Huaiwei and Li Hui’er there. With guards accompanying him, Huaiwei galloped back and forth on a small horse. Pu Zhu’s own riding skills quickly returned to her. The little red horse was quite spirited, and by midday they had bonded well — stopping and starting at will, as if the horse could read her mind. Li Hui’er didn’t know how to ride, so Pu Zhu taught her, and the day passed in great enjoyment, with all three spending the whole time at the practice ground.
On the other side, as evening fell at the hunting grounds, the Emperor granted rewards according to the abundance or scarcity of each person’s catch and held a banquet.
Crown Prince Li Chengyu and the Prince of Liu had the most plentiful haul in today’s hunt — not only had they captured rabbits, lynxes, and elk, but in the evening as the Crown Prince and his guards were returning, they actually encountered a leopard and shot it down in a combined encirclement. When the tally of game was made upon their return, the Crown Prince had the most impressive showing.
Li Xuandu had also participated in the day’s hunt, but had poor luck and caught only a few rabbits and geese plus one wolf — quite uninspiring compared to the others. At the banquet he drank a few cups of wine, came out to find the sky already pitch dark, and returned to his tent. Outside the tent he found Ye Xiao and stopped.
Ye Xiao came to his side and reported that the Princess Consort had spent the day with the young prince and the commandery princess at the practice ground, and had now returned to the traveling palace.
Li Xuandu nodded: ‘For as long as she stays here, follow her. Make absolutely certain she remains safe.’
‘Be careful she doesn’t notice you!’ he added as a reminder.
Ye Xiao acknowledged the order.
The reason Li Xuandu had not wanted Pu Zhu to come along this time was twofold. First, in the days before departure he had reflected on himself and felt that, given her identity as a spy and her particular manner of behavior, he had been far too indulgent toward her — he had given her too much latitude.
The second concern was Shen Yang.
He also worried that if Shen Yang had grown suspicious about the matter at Cheng Garden that night and wanted to move against her, a place like the hunting grounds was where a person could easily die — it was entirely possible that no body would ever be found — and he couldn’t watch over her every moment of the day. Keeping her at the prince’s residence would actually be safer.
He hadn’t expected that she would use the Grand Empress Dowager’s authority token and come anyway.
Well, now that she was here — the moment she arrived she was attracting admirers, as was her customary habit of making herself the center of attention.
And her attitude toward him!
Li Xuandu felt a surge of inexplicable irritation rise within him. He entered the tent and looked up to see Luo Bao standing at the tent entrance, standing there like a wooden post. He was startled: ‘Why are you back here?’
Luo Bao lowered his head and said: ‘Reporting to Your Highness, the Princess Consort sent this servant back, saying she had enough attendants and this servant was superfluous there, so she told me to return and serve Your Highness.’
He finished speaking and stole a glance at the Prince of Qin. Seeing that his face bore a slight flush of wine, he hurried forward to help him remove his outer garment.
Luo Bao had originally been an eunuch official in Penglai Palace. When Li Xuandu was imprisoned in the Wuyou Palace, Jiang Shi had sent him to serve there, and later he had also accompanied Li Xuandu when he kept vigil at the imperial mausoleum. Having followed Li Xuandu for many years, he was most familiar with all of his master’s daily likes and dislikes.
When Li Xuandu left the capital this time, he had left Luo Bao at the prince’s residence. Having been without his service here and making do with others, there had naturally been some discomfort. Now seeing that Luo Bao had been sent away like this, Li Xuandu furrowed his brow slightly but said nothing. He lay on his back on a low reclining couch inside the tent, closed his eyes for a moment, and then asked: ‘Were there any incidents at the residence in the days after I left?’
Luo Bao was crouching on the ground removing his boots. Hearing the question, he looked up and promptly recounted the entire incident of the Princess Consort being summoned to the palace by the Empress Dowager that same day Li Xuandu had left, and how she had nearly met with disaster. He continued: ‘When this servant saw something seemed wrong, and after the Princess Consort left, this servant immediately went to the Penglai Palace to report, per Your Highness’s instructions. Fortunately it ended without serious incident, and the Princess Consort returned to the residence. Shortly afterward, word also came from the Grand Empress Dowager’s side summoning the Princess Consort here, and this servant came along.’
Li Xuandu still lay with eyes closed, not moving.
Luo Bao finished removing his boots, and seeing him apparently fallen into a wine-induced sleep, went to fetch a light cover and was about to drape it over him when he heard him say: ‘No need — it’s not cold.’
Since the Prince of Qin had been imprisoned in the Wuyou Palace at the age of sixteen, he had gradually developed a strange ailment: excessive internal heat and an aversion to warmth. Even in winter he did not use a brazier for heating. Hearing him refuse, Luo Bao still draped the cover over him, saying softly: ‘This is a light cover, Your Highness — it is best to use it. Inside a tent the night dew is heavier than indoors.’
Li Xuandu did not refuse again the kind gesture of this attendant who had followed him for many years, and allowed him to cover him with it.
Luo Bao was tiptoeing out when he suddenly heard the Prince of Qin speak from the low couch: ‘Is there anything unusual on the Western Garden side?’
Luo Bao thought for a moment, then cautiously replied while keeping an eye on the Prince of Qin’s expression: ‘Nothing else unusual — just that the Crown Prince is staying very close by, directly across from the Western Garden.’
Li Xuandu continued to lie with his eyes closed for a moment, then suddenly said: ‘You’re no longer needed to serve me here — go back to the Western Garden.’
Luo Bao was startled. His face crumpled with distress, and he hemmed and hawed, unwilling to go.
Li Xuandu grew even more irritated. He opened his eyes, sat up abruptly, and hardened his expression: ‘What, even you are refusing to follow my orders now?’
Luo Bao hurriedly knelt: ‘Your Highness, it’s not that this servant is disobeying Your Highness’s will — it’s truly that the Princess Consort doesn’t like this servant. She gets angry the moment she sees me, and I… dare not go back.’
Li Xuandu grew more annoyed: ‘If she’s perfectly fine, why does she get angry when she sees you? Did you offend her?’
Luo Bao knew perfectly well that he had indeed offended the Princess Consort.
On the wedding night, the Prince of Qin had not at all avoided his presence, and had called him in while the Princess Consort was kneeling before him to admit her fault, forcing him to unwillingly witness that embarrassing scene.
The Princess Consort’s dislike of him must have originated from that night.
Just think — what princess consort under heaven would be happy to let a servant see her in such a humiliating state? That she hadn’t deliberately made trouble for him was already his good fortune.
The root cause lay entirely with the Prince of Qin.
But Luo Bao dared not say so. He could only say with a forlorn expression: ‘This servant truly doesn’t know why the Princess Consort dislikes me — perhaps this servant is too foolish and has served poorly. Fortunately Your Highness is magnanimous and doesn’t hold this servant’s stupidity against him. Having just been dismissed by the Princess Consort, if I return again, I’m afraid she’ll like me even less.’
Li Xuandu still had genuine affection for this attendant who had accompanied him for many years. Seeing him so conflicted, he let the matter drop, furrowed his brow, and waved a hand in dismissal.
Luo Bao breathed a sigh of relief, raised his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his face, and worried that the mercurial Prince of Qin might change his mind and force him back to the Western Garden to suffer the Princess Consort’s coldness. He hurriedly rose and backed out.
Li Xuandu remained lost in thought for a moment, then rolled up in the covers and lay down again.
In the days that followed, things went smoothly for Pu Zhu. Being cautious, she deliberately avoided times when Li Chengyu came and went, so despite staying nearby, she did not run into the awkwardness of encountering him again.
After their disagreeable parting at the water’s edge that day, there was no further follow-up from Li Xuandu’s side. He stayed in his own tent, and Pu Zhu guessed he must have truly been angered. She had no wish to go looking for him and invite more of his disdain, and in the days that followed she spent most of her time at the practice ground.
The Princess Imperial and Xiao Shi both frequently hosted banquets after the hunting was done, often sending people to invite Pu Zhu to join them. When she couldn’t beg off, she would go. Everyone smiled and exchanged pleasantries, flattering one another on the surface, and matters were peaceful enough.
Midway through the hunt, a new party arrived at the hunting grounds one day.
The Dongluo prince Kanglu and his entourage had arrived.
Dongluo was an alien regime situated to the northeast that had been swaying between the Eastern Di and the Li dynasty for years, exploiting its geographic position. It couldn’t be defeated in battle outright, and in order to pacify it, the Li dynasty had granted it considerable benefits. The Eastern Di similarly sought to win it over and had given one of their princesses in marriage to Prince Kanglu.
This time, after years, Emperor Xiaochang had led his entourage to hold the grand autumn imperial hunt at the Wuning Plain. Upon learning of this, the Dongluo king followed the precedent of the Mingzong reign and sent people to pay their respects and participate in the hunt. The envoy was Prince Kanglu himself, and he brought along his Eastern Di consort, Baochi.
Emperor Xiaochang hosted a banquet to receive Prince Kanglu’s party and bestowed upon them a generous gift of gold, silver, and silks.
Noble Consort Hu also hosted a banquet at the traveling palace to welcome Prince Kanglu’s consort.
Pu Zhu attended this banquet.
In her previous life she had met this Baochi here — a woman in her twenties, robust in build. Though married into Dongluo, she never forgot her identity as an Eastern Di princess and was deeply hostile toward the Li dynasty.
And so it was at tonight’s banquet as well.
The consort’s attitude was arrogant, and she paid little attention to the various noblewomen of the Li dynasty who attended the banquet. Partway through, she used the excuse that she could not stomach the drinks of the Central Plains, and abandoned the group, rising and leaving mid-banquet.
This infuriated Princess Imperial Li Lihua, who had just been having wine brought up at that moment.
The next day’s hunt, Baochi disdained to join the noblewomen of the Li dynasty and separately set up her own enclosure, taking her attendants in to hunt. Li Lihua privately instructed the guards to release the animals from within the enclosure. That day, Princess Consort Baochi had a pathetically meager haul — just a few wild rabbits — and was greatly embarrassed when the game was tallied in the evening.
This Eastern Di woman couldn’t understand the Han people’s speech, but reading the expressions of those across from her, she knew they were mocking her. Nursing a silent hatred, she certainly was not going to swallow this covert humiliation.
That evening Noble Consort Hu hosted another banquet. Partway through the proceedings, the consort had her interpreter speak, declaring that today’s hunt had been conducted unfairly, and that she wished to compete fairly with the noblewomen of the Central Plains to determine superiority.
Noble Consort Hu inwardly also looked down on this arrogant and uncouth Eastern Di princess. Seeing her humiliated today, she had maintained a composed appearance at the banquet table while privately feeling quite satisfied. Now hearing this declaration, she smiled pleasantly and asked: ‘What kind of competition does the Princess Consort have in mind?’
Baochi had her interpreter say: ‘I have heard that the people of your nation are skilled at polo. Though my own abilities are modest, I am willing to be instructed. Tomorrow I shall await you at the polo ground. Who among you dares to accept my challenge and compete fairly against me?’
Her two cold eyes swept across the assembled noblewomen of the Li dynasty, and then she said a few more words to her interpreter.
Pu Zhu could hear perfectly clearly.
She was telling the interpreter: tell these women of the Li clan to send one person forward to lead a team and face me in battle. I am willing to sign a life-and-death waiver — even if I fall from my horse and break my neck, I will not blame them in the slightest. Tell them to take courage and mount up to fight me!
Polo — these years it had become enormously popular in the capital, not only beloved by men but, given the prevailing ethos, also by noblewomen like the Princess Imperial and Xiao Shi. Anyone who couldn’t get on a horse and play a round would be laughed at. But the game involved fierce physical confrontation — horses crossing and weaving, situations changing in an instant — and when it came to real competition, the risks were considerable. In the past, an imperial prince had once drunk too much wine and mounted up to race against others, only to fall and have his skull crushed by a horse’s hooves on the spot.
While noblewomen like Li Lihua and Xiao Shi played polo in their daily lives — and Xiao Shi had even earned admiration for her skill — the women they competed against were trained household servants. When had they ever faced a challenge like this? And this required signing a life-and-death waiver.
The implication was clear: once on the field, it was life and death as fate willed, and if an accident occurred, even if someone was seriously injured or killed, it was entirely left to heaven.
Pu Zhu couldn’t help glancing at everyone around her.
Sure enough, when the interpreter conveyed the Eastern Di woman’s words, the assembled noblewomen who had been chatting and laughing a moment ago all fell silent.
These were all women of high status and comfortable lives. Playing around and showing off a bit was all well and good, but who would want to risk her life competing against this madwoman of a wild Eastern Di woman?
Moreover, even setting aside the fear of an accident — this was a competition involving two nations. Though called merely a game, losing would likely mean losing face.
No one spoke. They simply looked at one another.
Noble Consort Hu’s smile remained in place, but her heart gave a sudden lurch.
Since this Eastern Di woman had issued the challenge, if this side refused to accept, where would their dignity be, and how would she explain it to the Emperor?
Assembling a polo team on the spot would not be difficult.
For entertainment purposes on this outing, the palace had brought along a group of trained female servants skilled at the game.
But the question was: who would lead the team?
She looked toward the several noblewomen present who were known in ordinary times for their polo skill, and seeing each of them avoid her gaze, she sensed trouble.
The Princess Imperial narrowed her eyes, looked at Xiao Shi sitting across from her, and said: ‘I have heard that Lady of the State of Teng’s household has specially trained polo servants, and that the Lady’s reputation for polo is known throughout the capital. Since she has issued this challenge, perhaps the Lady might step forward and try? Rather than have us useless ones go up and lose face if we fail.’
Xiao Shi inwardly cursed Li Lihua to a terrible death.
Had Li Lihua not offended this Eastern Di woman today, how would such an awkward situation have arisen?
Winning such prominence would of course be desirable, but this Eastern Di woman was like a madwoman — physically strong and robust. Who could know what might happen once on the field? She certainly wasn’t going to take on something this risky and fraught with the possibility of drawing fire.
Seeing everyone looking at her, Xiao Shi turned to Noble Consort Hu and said: ‘Consort, it’s not that I’m unwilling — it’s that in ordinary times I truly only play casually, and my ball skill is hardly worthy of public display. Besides, yesterday during the hunt I accidentally had my leg kicked by a horse, and I’m having some trouble walking.’
Noble Consort Hu was deeply disappointed.
If even Xiao Shi wouldn’t agree, who else here could do it?
The Eastern Di woman Baochi had been observing the expressions of everyone present and now let a mocking cold smile appear on her face. She rose, commanded her interpreter, and said: ‘Tomorrow morning, I shall wait at the polo ground! I trust you will not disappoint me — let me properly see for myself whether the women of you Han people have any courage!’ With that, she took her crowd of attendants and left, striding away with great swagger.