The bawling Zhao gongzi was using the back of his hands to wipe away tears while muttering swears under his breath. When he dismounted, his legs trembled, and he almost fell over.
The manservant went over and lent a hand to support him, and said, âGongzi, gongzi, are you okay?â
Zhao gongzi kicked him, âDo I look okay to you?â
âJust now, really scared me to death.â He Yan expressed, âIt was all my fault. If I didnât insist on racing with the gentleman, he wouldnât have been terrified.â
Her heart was full of regret, and she sincerely apologized, âPlease donât take offense, gongzi.â
Take offense? Why would he take offense? Across him was the person who saved his life, why would he be offended? Zhao gongzi willed a smile, but in the end there was still a breath left unsaid in his heart. He glared at the horse, whose head was still lowered, looked at the grass, then shifted to the cause of disaster, the horse saddle, and was unable to restrain his anger. He waved his hand, âThis ungrateful, backstabbing, bastard almost hurt this young master. Throw him out! Iâll have him turned to horse jerky!â
He Yun Sheng furrowed his brow, and He Yanâs smiling expression turned even colder.
A horse was like a high-ranking military officer. Not only was it a method of transport, it was also a comrade-in-arms to share life and death with. Horses couldnât speak, but they would carry a soldier charging into battle. They couldnât express their thoughts, but they would whinny to mourn over their ownerâs death, so much so that they would go on a hunger strike. They treasured their owner as much as their owner cherished them.
The wealthy and pampered gentleman hadnât yet gotten a taste of the cruelties of the battleground, so it was impossible for him to understand the intimate bond between a man and a warhorse. Even before oneâs birth, they were already conformed to the social hierarchy segregating nobility from common people. An animal, he would never consider hesitating over. Once it was killed, then it was killed; there was no point in troubling oneself over trifles.
ââŠ. This is a fine horse.â The one who spoke up was He Sui, and he soothingly pleaded, âGongzi, please think this over.â
âThis is my horse.â Zhao gongzi didnât know who to direct his temper at, and He Sui had just interjected like that. Zhao gongzi coldly laughed, âAnything wrong with doing what I want to do?â He drew a dagger from his waist, which glittered like frost, and declared, âIâll not only kill it, but Iâll kill it right here!â
The daggerâs handle was inlaid with a ruby the size of a dove egg. The scabbard was forged with gold, appearing incomparably gorgeous, yet the knifeâs edge was directly facing the currently grazing warhorse. The horse, utterly unaware of his ownerâs heart overflowing with killing intent, leisurely shook his tail.
Zhao gongziâs eyes glistened with murderous desire, as though cooking up a good method. Since this horse startled him and let him lose face, he could just slaughter it on the spot. Firstly, it would be a way for him to release his anger. Secondly, he would appear brave and his lost honor would be restored.
He bellowed at the manservant, âCapture him!â
He Yanâs palm twitched and unconsciously carressed the iron-headed rod by her waist.
She couldnât⊠she couldnât watch this horse die because of her. But even if she took action, she didnât have a proper excuse.
The horse was pinned by some manservants. The head manservant turned around and yelled out, âGongzi, gongzi, weâve pinned him! Please take action now, gongzi!â
Zhao gongzi, with a dagger in hand, strode over. Facing the horseâs neck, the coldness of the dagger gleamed as he was about to swingâ
âThumpââ
A sharp and clear noise, similar to metal clashing against gold, resounded as something dropped to the ground. He Yan stealthily retracted her extended hand but saw that the dagger Zhao gongzi was holding had already fallen. Zhao gongzi was clutching his wrist, crying out, âAiyo, aiyo.â
âWho? Who was it?â He called out as he shifted about in pain, while not forgetting to insult, âWho fucking messed with me?â
âIt was me.â
Someoneâs voice floated from behind.
This voice⊠He Yanâs head slightly moved, and she turned around to look over. But when she looked behind her, she didnât expect two more people to arrive, also riding on horseback. The young man on the left wore a licorice-root yellow robe with a rounded neckline, and the color looked sharp worn by him. With rosy lips and pure white teeth, a light smile, and pupils that glistened like crystals, rarely could one witness a person with such a boyish and naive air about him. He was a spirited playboy-type son of a wealthy family.
But the young man on the right⊠He Yanâs eyes lit up.
It became spring. Colors blossoming, ice and snow meltingâthere was an entire city of spring colors.
The young man dressed in yellow clothing was actually very handsome, and his eyebrows even more so. His face was as beautiful as jade, and his eyes sparkled like stars. His eyes were gently shaped, though slightly raised at the corners, and were akin to limpid autumn water. His presence made othersâ hearts skip a beat, as his gaze was ice-cold.
Despite his youthful disposition, he wore a crown, his fine hair gracefully falling straight down. He wore a colorful suit, his lapels adorned with a rosefinch delicately stitched with golden thread. His presence imposed an air of grandeur. He wore olive boots, a sterling sword by his waist. His white horse donned on a golden saddle, carrying with it an aura of elegance. At the moment, the fingers on his right hand were toying with a dark perfume satchel, its contents producing a clinking sound.
What a charming and elegant Wu Ling noble son!1
He Yanâs heart was pounding with admiration, but she suddenly felt uneasy. At lightning speed, before she could even lower her head, the white cloth slightly swayed and covered her eyes, blocking her vision.
Only while listening to that Zhao gongziâs dreadful flattery did she remember: âTurns out itâs Chief Commander Xiao2⊠excuse me.â
Within He Yanâs thoughts suddenly surfaced another spring day like this that happened many years ago, on a peaceful day when birds were chirping and dancing, and the willow tree was swaying in the Autumn courtyard. She had raised her head, confused, and spotted a handsome young man wearing a white embroidered jacket at the Poplar Swings Garden, his expression filled with annoyance, but his valiant bearing unrestrained.
On a lazy spring day, with a light breeze in the air, he stood out like a person from a painting, and all the colors of spring could not match up to him.
Xiao Jue, Xiao Huai Jin3âher previous lifeâs antagonist, her classmate, and the outstanding famous general, General Feng Yun4.
1 äșé”èŽ”ć Źć (WÇ LĂng guĂŹ gĆngzÇ)ïŒWu Ling isnât a title or anything. It literally refers to the tomb of five Han kings in Changâan. But in this context, itâs used as a metaphor for the rich or children from noble families that have produced a lot of officials for several generations. He Yan describing him as such is like emphasizing just how exceptionally rich and noble this person is.
2 èéœçŁ (XiĂ o dĆ« dĆ«): lit. commander-in-chief Xiao. But weâll be using Chief Commander Xiao instead as it sounds less awkward. Itâs just another one of his titlesâŠ
4 ć°äșć°ć (FÄng YĂșn jiÄngjĆ«n): General Feng Yun is a title bestowed to him by the emperor after having achieved something meritorious, the same way He Yan (or should we say, He Ru Fei) was bestowed the title âGeneral Fei Hongâ.
E/N: There seems to be like a billion ways to address Xiao Jue. And so we once again encounter the authorâs lengthy and flowery paragraphs describing someoneâs unparalleled and jade-like beauty.