Chapter 2: The Dispute

Shi Yuning snapped to her senses, only to feel as though the distant mountains and low-hanging clouds had instantly lost all color. Amid the vast expanse of grassland, nothing remained but that one vivid splash of red, glaringly bright.

A breeze swept in, sending the hunting banners fluttering. Xie Zhaoran’s hair danced freely in the wind, her entire figure dashing and untamed like the gust itself. Her gaze pierced the clouds and shattered stone, slamming into Shi Yuning’s eyes and sending her own into a tremor.

It made one hold one’s breath without thinking, heart and mind quaking.

No one knew who started it, but in the midst of the silence, someone suddenly shouted, “Good!”

Only then did the crowd seem to awaken their senses. Cheers of heartfelt admiration erupted from the throng, each one louder than the last.

Shi Yuning was no exception. Her cherry lips parted slightly as her phoenix eyes widened in disbelief. She turned back for another look at that utterly domineering Red Feather Arrow.

Its fletching gradually slowed its quivering, taking quite a while to finally settle its lingering ferocity.

Such precision! Such power! Such distance!

Shi Yuning was certain that no one present—man or woman—could match it. Not even half of it!

Full of admiration, she gazed up at the dashing red figure atop the platform, her eyes brimming with envy. She raised her hand to clap vigorously when, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a flash of purple.

Prince Yu was charging toward the high platform, his attendants in tow, his momentum fierce.

Shi Yuning’s heart sank. She hurried after him, and the noble youths behind her—ever eager for drama—followed suit.

Prince Yu barreled up to the base of the platform like a wrathful deity, craning his neck to glare up at the woman atop it.

“Crown Sister-in-law, what is the meaning of this? Why ruin my fun?!”

Prince Yu was seething. His repeated failures at the target had already built up a storm of anger, and just when hope had dawned—when he was this close to claiming Shi Yuning’s sachet—it had been snatched away.

He had been wondering which fool with a death wish had dared to steal his woman.

He never imagined it would be Xie Zhaoran!

She had crossed him often in the past, but ever since her marriage into the Eastern Palace, it was as if that sharp edge of hers had dulled. Their encounters in the palace had become mere nods of feigned ignorance.

Yet today, in front of this vast crowd, this wretched woman had dared to humiliate him!

In his rage, Prince Yu hurled the bow he still held straight at Xie Zhaoran on the platform!

Shi Yuning, who had just caught up, felt her heart leap into her throat. “Watch out!” she cried urgently.

The figure on the platform seemed utterly unconcerned. Her gaze drifted leisurely from Shi Yuning, looking down imperiously at Prince Yu below—and at the bow that had just clattered to the ground near her feet.

Xie Zhaoran’s expression remained calm and unruffled, her eyes half-lidded as she spoke in a measured tone.

“You’ve been monopolizing the field, Second Brother, and missing every shot. It wouldn’t do to hold everyone up indefinitely.”

Her words were blunt, and Prince Yu could hear the mockery laced through them. His face turned a shade purpler than his robes.

Veins bulged on his strained neck. “Xie Zhaoran, you’ve barely been in the Eastern Palace any time at all, and you’re already acting without decorum? Excellent. Simply excellent!”

Prince Yu’s trusted attendant glanced at his master’s face and immediately chimed in. “Exactly! In the Shooting Ritual, it’s the women who offer prizes and the men who compete for them. There’s no precedent for a woman joining in the shooting!”

Hearing this, Prince Yu shot his attendant an approving look, his anger easing somewhat. Gloating as if Xie Zhaoran were the fool, he bellowed, “That doesn’t count!”

He then whirled to shout at the onlookers behind him.

“Xie Zhaoran broke the rules just now—it doesn’t count! Someone, take down Shi Yuning’s sachet and hang it back up for this prince!”

Shi Yuning frowned deeply. Prince Yu had grown so brazen that he dared call the Crown Princess by name in public.

She recalled her grandfather’s warning before the Spring Hunt: avoid clashing with Prince Yu if possible. If things escalated, it would be hard to use it as an excuse to refuse a marriage proposal.

Meanwhile, Prince Yu finished instructing his men and turned back to Xie Zhaoran with even more outrageous mockery.

“If Crown Sister-in-law wants to play, she can always untie the sachet from her own waist and hang it as a prize.”

“See if any man dares to vie for a chance to share a banquet with her.”

His words were crude and leering. Shi Yuning’s face darkened instantly.

This shameless cur had broken the rules first, yet here he was accusing others!

Forget her grandfather’s warning—Shi Yuning was about to retort when a familiar, rich, magnetic voice rang out from the platform. Steady as unyielding mountains yet carrying the weight of a thousand jun, it reached every ear.

“This Palace shall stand in for the Crown Prince and join the fun. Does Second Brother take issue with the Crown Prince?”

At the invocation of the Crown Prince, Prince Yu jumped in fury. “Has Crown Sister-in-law gone daft in the wind? How can you possibly stand in for him?!”

Xie Zhaoran handed her bow to a nearby guard. She smoothed the creased sleeve from her shot, brushed off her robes, clasped her hands behind her back, and replied airily, “Why not?”

Those simple words plucked at the taut strings of Shi Yuning’s heart. Indeed, why not? Prince Yu relied on his status as an imperial prince—likely the next Crown Prince, no less—to bully others.

But the current Crown Prince still lived, and as his princess, Xie Zhaoran held the highest status in these Hunting Grounds.

If anyone was going to throw their weight around, it should be her over him.

A stifled breath of relief escaped Shi Yuning, and her breathing eased.

Prince Yu was struck dumb. His dim wits faced a higher authority wielding the same tactic, and his bluster deflated sharply.

Silence fell around them. Everyone held their breath—no one wanted to draw the eye of Prince Yu, whose face was a thundercloud. Crossing him now would mean shedding a layer of skin.

Seeing the hush, Prince Yu scanned the crowd darkly, acutely aware of the face he’d lost. His eyes fell on Xie Zhaoran, high above, exuding haughty dominance.

What little reason remained in his head burned away like dry leaves in a blaze.

“Of course Crown Sister-in-law can shoot for the Crown Prince. She could even drink in his stead. And if she wishes, she could even marry Shi Yuning as his side consort on his behalf. But there’s one thing—tell me, Xie Zhaoran, can you consummate the marriage for him too?!”

The air around the platform grew so still even the wind seemed afraid to stir. Overhead, roiling clouds hung lower, as if brewing a storm with ill intent.

A dark cloud blotted out the faint sunlight, casting a shadow over Xie Zhaoran’s face. Those below couldn’t make out her expression, and anxiety gnawed at their hearts.

Prince Yu’s words were absurdly brazen!

Qiangdi, standing at her side, noticed Xie Zhaoran’s hands—clenched tightly behind her back, then loosely opened. She pressed her lips in surprise.

As Xie Zhaoran’s maidservant from childhood, she knew what that gesture meant. But she was puzzled.

What was her mistress excited about?

Prince Yu was mocking the Crown Prince, a fact known throughout the Sheng Capital: the Crown Prince’s frail health left him… wanting. He and his princess had yet to consummate their marriage.

Everyone knew, but no one dared speak of it. The Eastern Palace forbade even whispers among the servants—violators were beaten to death.

Yet Prince Yu had dragged it into the open without a care.

Shouldn’t her mistress be furious? Why did she seem… weirdly thrilled?

Prince Yu’s barbs made everyone in the field wish they could plug their ears or crawl under a table and vanish.

Shi Yuning hadn’t thought Prince Yu’s pigheaded temper could sink so low. She couldn’t hold back any longer.

She stepped forward, placing herself between Prince Yu and the platform, glaring at him balefully. He was preening in smug victory.

“Mind your words, Your Highness! Slandering the Eastern Palace is a grave crime!” Shi Yuning knew that in a war of words, one must seize the high ground first.

To pull herself and Xie Zhaoran from this whirlpool of gossip, she had to invoke the Crown Prince.

Prince Yu sneered, utterly fearless. “That’s my brother. What’s wrong with this prince showing concern?”

He raised his voice on the last four words, throwing Xie Zhaoran’s earlier line back at her with relish.

Shi Yuning had to admit Prince Yu showed a spark of brains in passive-aggression—at least until she remembered it was still a pig’s brain.

No, even a pig might be smarter.

“You’re mistaken, Your Highness. The Crown Prince is first and foremost the heir to the throne, only secondarily your brother. Slandering the Eastern Palace is treason; slandering a brother is a lesser fault of unfiliality. You’ve committed both grave and petty sins—trouble indeed.”

Prince Yu scowled in displeasure. “What are you getting at, Shi Yuning? Do you truly fancy yourself a side consort in the Eastern Palace?”

Shi Yuning squeezed her eyes shut and drew a deep breath. She desperately wanted to crack open this idiot’s skull and see if it held bean curd or lung slices.

“Mind your words, Your Highness! The Shi Family has no such intentions!” Lowering her voice, she stifled her anger to remind him. “The Crown Princess hails from the Xie Family—think on that before you speak!”

Shi Yuning didn’t want to help this fool, but with so many people around, she feared he’d spout more nonsense and embarrass everyone.

At the mention of the Shi and Xie Families, reason finally returned to Prince Yu.

He gave Shi Yuning a complicated look. For the past half-year, he’d pursued her relentlessly, convinced she had no feelings for him. But now…

She was even warning him. Of course! Suddenly enlightened, his anger evaporated. With his status, looks, and bearing, how could any woman resist?

“Very well. This prince won’t stoop to your level today.”

With that, he kicked his attendant viciously. “What are you staring at? Can’t you see this prince’s robe is soiled? Take me to change at once!”

The quick-witted attendant played along. “Oh dear, this servant was distracted. Look at that huge stain on Your Highness’s robe—come with this servant to change.”

The farce ended abruptly. Shi Yuning watched Prince Yu and his retinue recede into the distance before exhaling heavily.

She turned back, intending to explain to Xie Zhaoran, only to find the platform empty.

Xie Zhaoran had slipped away without a word.

Shi Yuning frowned slightly. She still had things to say—how had she just left…?

She stared blankly at the vacant platform. The dashing red figure was gone; only the nearby hunting banners snapped in the wind.

A gritty unease stirred in her chest.

It took a moment for Shi Yuning to remember what she’d forgotten: retrieving her sachet!

By the time she rushed to the enclosure, neither her gray sachet nor the crowd-stunning Red Feather Arrow remained.

She questioned a nearby palace servant and learned the Crown Princess’s people had taken them. Shi Yuning froze.

What did Xie Zhaoran want with her sachet?

Regardless, she had to get it back—it was handmade by her grandmother.

Shi Yuning jogged all the way to the Crown Princess’s tent, arriving breathless. She asked the guards to announce her.

The sentries, seemingly instructed beforehand, parted the tent flaps as one the moment she gave her name, inviting her inside.

Though puzzled, Shi Yuning lightened her steps for the sachet’s sake and entered the dim pavilion.

Beyond the twelve-panel screen at the entrance—painted with galloping horses chasing the wind—she spotted a recumbent couch in the center of the tent, carpeted in fine wool. There lounged a figure.

Xie Zhaoran’s long, porcelain-pale fingers toyed with a thin red cord, winding it round and round. The gray coarse-cloth sachet rested loosely in her palm. Propped on one hand, she held it to her nose and closed her eyes.

As if taking a gentle sniff.