Chapter 8: So It Was the Xiao Family’s Younger Sister After All

"I am not sure, but it sounds quite lively over there. Would you like to go take a look, Miss?"

Yingxia noticed that her mistress had been in low spirits lately and rarely ventured out. She thought this might be a good opportunity for her to get some fresh air.

Shen Xianyue was inclined to agree. Lately, she had felt an increasing resistance toward Xiao Liyang; at times, she did not even wish to speak to him.

"I am going to take a walk over there with Yingxia. Brother, you should head back first."

To her surprise, Xiao Liyang dismounted as well. "That over there is the newly enclosed racecourse. Calculating the dates, it should be open by now. It isn't safe for the two of you alone; I had better accompany you."

Shen Xianyue said nothing and continued walking ahead, lost in her own thoughts. Her uncharacteristic attitude did not escape Yingxia's notice.

She whispered, "Miss, you seem a bit cold toward the Heir lately."

Cold?

Compared to before, perhaps. In the past, they had been as close as one person, and Xiao Liyang had always put her first in everything he did. Even when the Fifth Miss had taken her anger out on others, it was often because Xiao Liyang had punished them for trying to protect her.

When a scale remains tilted for too long, resentment is bound to follow.

Yet, after living through those three years in her previous life, she could no longer muster a pleasant expression for him. Even if someone else was the true architect of her misery, it was his indulgence that had allowed it to happen. He had been the one to draw close to her first, yet it was he who turned around to cast blame on her.

"It is nothing. I am just not in a good mood," she replied.

Sensing her lack of enthusiasm, Yingxia changed the subject. Regardless of the friction between her mistress and the Heir, she knew that no matter how bad things got, she would always remain by her mistress's side. If there was one person in this world who would stand firmly by her, it had to be her.

The path was rough and unfinished, as the main entrance to the racecourse lay in another direction. As they drew closer, they could see that the perimeter was lined with wooden fencing, beyond which a trench had been dug. Soldiers stood guard at intervals, while inside lay vast stretches of grass for the horses to graze and run. A long row of stables stood in the northeast corner to house the horses at night or during inclement weather, with sheds nearby filled with hay and supplies.

"This racecourse was the Emperor's idea, so the officials dared not delay; it has been built quite grandly. I expect it will be used for the autumn hunts and other such events in the future," Xiao Liyang explained thoughtfully.

Shen Xianyue nodded, lost in thought. "That is good. This way, when Father is up on the mountain, he can see what kind of country it is that he has given his life to protect."

Xiao Liyang felt a prick in his heart, like the sting of a needle—not overwhelming, yet impossible to ignore.

"Who goes there!"

The soldiers inside, sharp-eyed, spotted the group and raised their spears, looking at them with wary expressions.

Xiao Liyang produced his identification token. Another guard quickly pulled his comrade back, and they knelt on one knee. "Forgive our ignorance, Heir of Zhenbei. Please excuse our insolence."

Xiao Liyang waved his hand dismissively. "Open the gate at once."

"Yes, sir, at once."

No sooner had the three of them entered the arena than they heard a cavalier voice call out, "Tell me, Zishu, I went through so much trouble to get you this steed, and this is all you show us?"

Several others chimed in. "Indeed! We have heard that the Western Jin forces were so terrified of you that they would flee ten miles at the mere mention of your name. Show us something spectacular!"

"Yes, give us a thrill!"

Shen Xianyue shielded her eyes from the sun and looked toward the man in the center of the field.

He wore dark, tight-fitting attire—more casual than what she had seen at the palace banquet, yet appearing even more capable. A faint smile played on his lips. "The techniques I have mastered are ruthless and violent; they hold little aesthetic value."

As he spoke, he glanced over and seemed to notice something. "However, I am in a good mood today. I shall show you."

A roar of frenzied cheering erupted.

Shen Xianyue, too, grew interested. She had only heard tales of how formidable the Marquis of Champion was and how he decimated his enemies on the battlefield, but she had never had the chance to witness it in person. She had not expected to be so fortunate today.

She walked a few steps forward and chose a slightly elevated spot, a perfect vantage point.

She watched as Xiao Tuyu mounted his horse. The reins moved deftly in his hands, and with a gentle squeeze of his legs, the horse let out a long neigh, its front hooves rising high—higher than a man's stature. With another roar, the horse bolted like an arrow from a bow.

Xiao Tuyu leaned forward, his body nearly parallel to the horse's back, his robes flapping in the wind. Amidst the cheers, he leaped upward, his toes lightly touching the horse's back before he performed a perfect backflip, landing securely back in the saddle.

His movements were fluid, dust swirling beneath the hooves. In the sunlight, amidst the raw energy, it felt as though he were the only one galloping through the vast world. After completing a steady lap, he came to a halt, and a sharp, clear whistle echoed from the man who had spoken earlier.

The others began to applaud.

"Zishu, I told you you were being modest! How could such brilliant horsemanship have no aesthetic value? You were just playing coy with your brothers."

Shen Xianyue could not help but clap as well. The smile that tugged at the corners of her lips was an eyesore to Xiao Liyang.

"Oh, whose young lady is that standing over there? Why not come over and join us?"

The customs of Donglin were liberal; there were not many strict rules between men and women, especially in wide-open spaces like this. As long as there was no inappropriate conduct, it was generally accepted.

Shen Xianyue did not act coy and walked over at a leisurely pace.

As she drew closer, the youth in the moon-white robe gave Xiao Tuyu a playful shove. "I wondered who it was—it’s the Xiao family’s... little sister!"

He stretched out the words "Xiao family" with a suggestive lilt. On the surface, he was acknowledging her as the Xiao family's foster daughter, but one look at his expression made it clear he was referring to the family of Xiao Tuyu himself.

"If you continue with your nonsense, that steed won't be yours anymore!"

"Oh, oh! You just promised it to me! Are you going to go back on your word and kill me?"

"That is what you get for being insolent."

The youth in white jumped down and draped an arm over Xiao Liyang’s shoulder, acting like a bosom friend. "Great nephew, tell me, was there any error in what I said? Is this little sister Shen not of the Xiao family?"

Xiao Liyang gritted his teeth. How was he supposed to answer? To agree would be wrong, and to deny it would also be wrong.

"Speak up, is she or isn't she, great nephew?"

Xiao Liyang looked up at Xiao Tuyu, who sat atop his towering steed, his eyes flickering with a complex light.

After a long, stiff silence, he cupped his hands in a formal bow. "Uncle."

Xiao Tuyu gave a noncommittal grunt through his nose, his eyes drifting back to Shen Xianyue.

The youth in white leaned over and patted his own chest. "You greeted Zishu, why not me?"

Xiao Liyang looked confused. "You? Why should I greet you?"