Cui Yu’s arrow cut straight through the thin red cord.
The cord snapped with a sharp twang!
The gourd dipper plunged to the ground, landing on the grass at the foot of the willow with a thud. It rolled over twice, then came to a quiet stop.
The Imperial Guards near the willow had witnessed the shot with their own eyes. A collective gasp escaped them.
That was a red cord forty zhang away, swaying in the wind, fine as a strand of hair—and the Crown Prince had shot it clean through with a single arrow!
After a brief moment of stunned silence, a guard captain with a booming voice straightened and called out the result.
His voice rang like a bell, carrying across the entire training ground!
On the high platform where the women were seated, many nearly forgot their manners in their shock. They stared wide-eyed, their faces filled with disbelief.
“The Crown Prince won?”
“He hit it… He hit the red cord?!”
“That was a red cord forty zhang away—and it was swaying in the wind!”
After a moment of astonishment, a restrained cheer broke out on the platform. The noblewomen leaned together, their faces alight with excitement and pride, their murmurs rising into a steady buzz.
Seated at the center, the Empress finally let her tense shoulders relax a little.
Her fingers, hidden inside her sleeves, slowly uncurled. Her eyes brimmed with relief and pride.
The moment Shen Yanshui heard the guard captain’s announcement, her eyes lit up.
She knew it! The Crown Prince really was remarkable!
The heavy stone that had been hanging over her heart finally lifted.
A smile tugged irresistibly at her lips, spreading to her eyes. She couldn’t suppress it. Her bright eyes reflected the tall figure in the arena; joy and pride shone in them, and she seemed to glow.
Lady Shen sat in her place, her teacup still suspended in midair. She was frozen as if someone had cast a spell on her.
The gentle, composed smile she had worn moments earlier had vanished without a trace.
Her pupils contracted. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and disbelief crept over her face.
The Crown Prince… had won?
She abruptly tightened her grip on the teacup, her knuckles paling. The tea sloshed over the rim, but she didn’t notice.
The cup nearly slipped from her hand. Only at the last moment did she come to herself and clutch it tightly.
On the other viewing platform, the civil and military officials were equally stunned.
Then, in an instant, the entire training ground seemed to catch fire.
Several generals in the military ranks sprang to their feet almost at once, slamming their hands on the tables. Teacups jumped and tea spilled everywhere, but none of them noticed. Their excitement was impossible to contain.
“Magnificent!”
“The Crown Prince’s aim is peerless!”
“He hit a red cord from forty zhang away—with a three-stone bow, no less!”
The generals’ voices rose with excitement. Their fists clenched, and they looked as if they could hardly keep themselves from rushing into the arena.
Their hearts surged with a feeling too powerful for words.
The old Duke Fengguo remained seated, his expression unchanged. He merely turned his head slightly and gave a quiet cough.
The generals, who had been carried away by their excitement, immediately cooled their heels. They reined themselves in, though their faces still betrayed their enthusiasm, and dutifully sat back down. The light in their eyes, however, refused to fade. They sat up straight, gazes fixed on the arena.
The civil officials, meanwhile, had fallen utterly silent.
It wasn’t disappointment. They were simply so shocked that they couldn’t find their voices.
Vice Minister Liu sat with his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide, staring fixedly toward the old willow as though he, too, had been struck by a spell.
At length, someone murmured, “That was a three-stone bow…”
His voice was faint, tinged with disbelief.
“Throughout the dynasties… the generals capable of drawing a three-stone bow…” What sort of men had they been?
“And the Crown Prince actually… drew it just like that? Then… then hit a red cord forty zhang away?”
Murmurs rose and fell among the civil officials. They exchanged glances, their expressions complicated.
They had always looked down on those rough men of the military, believing they knew nothing but how to wield blades and spears, had no grasp of letters or the greater principles, and were nothing more than boors who settled everything with their fists.
But the Crown Prince was different.
He had been brilliant since childhood, versed in the classics and histories, and possessed of keen insight into affairs of state. They had never imagined that his archery could be so accomplished as well!
For a time, the civil officials were torn by conflicting feelings.
They glanced toward the military officials and saw the generals flushed with excitement, rubbing their hands together. Their feelings grew even more complicated.
Then they looked toward the Northern Rong envoys, each of whom was staring in stunned disbelief, and the last of that inner conflict was swept aside by a pride they could scarcely describe.
Vice Censor-in-Chief Li sat among the civil officials, a handkerchief still clutched in his hand for wiping away sweat. In his shock, he had forgotten to use it. But once that shock passed, a deep sense of relief washed over him.
Everyone knew that, in recent days, the Crown Prince had been favoring Worthy Lady Shen. His daughter was the Crown Princess, the Crown Prince’s lawful wife, and yet he… Li had not been without grievances against the Crown Prince lately. He had been deeply displeased, but…
Whatever he felt, he could never have wanted the Crown Prince to lose to the Northern Rong. Such a defeat would have dealt a severe blow to both the Eastern Palace and the Crown Prince.
Fortunately… the Crown Prince had won.
Xu Chengwen, seated in an inconspicuous spot on the high platform, watched the Crown Prince in the arena. A faint look of surprise crossed his face, followed by an emotion he could not quite name.
In the end… he was glad to see Great Yong had a ruler of such caliber waiting to inherit the throne.
After all, the Crown Prince would one day be his sovereign…
On the imperial dais, Emperor Pingkang heard the Imperial Guard’s report and let out a long breath of relief. The furrow in his brow eased a little.
But then his expression grew more complicated.
After a brief silence, he finally spoke, smiling as he did. “Good! Very good! The Crown Prince has shown great courage, and the First Prince is a formidable warrior as well.”
By then, Agula and Cui Yu had both lowered their bows and were walking toward the imperial dais.
Agula kept his eyes on Cui Yu. His gaze held shock and disbelief, but above all, it burned with the fire of a warrior’s challenge.
When he came within a few paces, he stopped. Then he raised his right hand, clenched it into a fist against his chest, and bowed slightly—a formal Hu-Rong gesture of respect.
“Your Highness’s archery far surpasses mine.” Agula lifted his head and met Cui Yu’s gaze. “Agula admits defeat wholeheartedly.”
Cui Yu remained composed. “You flatter me, First Prince.”
Agula straightened and looked into Cui Yu’s eyes. The fighting spirit in his gaze had not diminished with his defeat. If anything, it burned brighter than before.
The smile faded from Agula’s face, replaced by a grave, earnest expression. His voice brimmed with unmistakable longing.
“Your Highness, in the third match—”
He paused. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, yet carried even greater force.
“Please give it everything you have.”
A flame seemed to burn in Agula’s eyes.
Cui Yu met his gaze and paused, taken aback.
Then he felt something inside him catch fire.
He had not felt this way in a very, very long time.
He could no longer remember when he had last fought someone to his heart’s content.
Heat began to rise through his body, as though it had a will of its own.
The look in Cui Yu’s eyes slowly changed.
The calm, gentle gaze he wore every day sharpened, taking on a keen edge.
“Very well.”
There would be a short break before the third match of wrestling.
Cui Yu went to change and soon returned to the martial arena.
He wore a fitted black outfit, its narrow sleeves and belted waist allowing him to move freely. The dark fabric made his tall, straight figure seem even more striking. His black hair was tied high, and he looked like a sword poised to leap from its sheath, its edge glinting beneath the surface.
A moment later, the incense stick had burned down.
The third match would take place on a circular platform in the center of the martial arena.
The platform stood about a zhang above the ground, its broad surface paved with smooth stone. There were no railings—only a flag at each of its four corners. Beyond the platform lay thick grass.
The rules were simple: whoever fell off the platform first lost.
The civil and military officials fixed their eyes on the two men standing on the platform.
Agula had changed into a lighter tunic. The muscles in his exposed forearms bulged, veins standing out beneath the skin. He towered like an iron pagoda, radiating an oppressive presence.
And the Crown Prince—
On the elevated stand reserved for the women, many hearts tightened with worry.
Though the Crown Prince was tall and handsome, the difference in their builds was simply too great. Standing beside Agula, he looked slender by comparison.
One was like a black bear, the other like a green pine.
The Crown Prince was certainly a handsome sight, but wrestling was about close-quarters combat, not bearing and grace.
“Will the Crown Prince be hurt?”
“The Great Prince of Northern Rong is so powerfully built. If they start grappling…”
Whispers rose and fell, their concern plain to hear.
Shen Yanshui’s gaze remained fixed on the black-clad figure atop the platform. She believed in the Crown Prince, but… this was close-quarters combat.
It was not archery or horse racing. This was a true contest of fists and feet, two bodies colliding as they fought for victory.
One mistake could injure bones or even damage internal organs.
And in ancient times, neither a cold nor an external or internal injury was anything to take lightly. A single misstep could cost a person their life.
She drew a deep breath. It had been a long time since she had felt this nervous.
Her eyes stayed on the platform; she did not dare look away.
She made a quiet decision: if the Crown Prince’s life was ever in danger, she would use her ability at once… and trip the Great Prince.
Her Majesty the Empress sat upright on the high stand, her expression composed, chin slightly lowered as she watched her son on the platform.
Her fingers were clenched tightly inside her sleeves, but she betrayed nothing.
She knew Yu had loved martial arts since childhood.
And over the years, Yu had not neglected his training in private.
But she had never known his archery had improved so much.
She had watched that arrow clearly from the stand, and the shock of it had been beyond words.
Still, as she looked at Agula’s towering frame and then at her own son’s lean, handsome figure, worry stirred in her heart.
He was her son.
He was also the Crown Prince of Great Yong, and this was a duty the Crown Prince had to bear.
On the platform, Marquis Xuanyi stood at its edge. He glanced from one man to the other, saw that both were ready, and called out without further delay:
“The third wrestling match begins!”
At the words, Agula lunged forward like a black bear that had been waiting to charge. His huge frame moved surprisingly fast. He struck with ferocious force, one broad hand reaching straight for Cui Yu’s shoulder, the blow stirring the air with a whoosh.
Cui Yu twisted aside, barely dodging it. Agula’s fist swept past his shoulder, sending a gust of wind across him.
Agula’s first strike missed, but his assault came on like a rising tide. Fists and feet flew, each blow heavy enough to shatter a man.
Cui Yu raised his arm to block.
Their forearms collided with a dull thud, and the two men immediately fell into a fierce struggle!
Below the platform, several military commanders’ eyelids twitched.
The Crown Prince was actually meeting Agula blow for blow?!
Agula’s pupils contracted slightly as well.
He had used only seven-tenths of his strength in that collision, intending to test the Crown Prince’s power. He had not expected—
The Crown Prince’s strength was every bit his equal. Then again, how else could he have drawn a three-stone bow?
Agula’s expression grew more serious.
The two men traded blows on the platform, fists and feet colliding with dull thumps.
But it was not long before Agula sensed something was off.
The Crown Prince’s strength was no weaker than his own, yet there was a curious stiffness to his movements.
Blocking, dodging, striking—each movement was precise in itself, but strung together they seemed awkward, as though…
As though he rarely fought anyone.
Agula turned the thought over in his mind and quickly understood why.
He had sent people to gather information about the Great Yong court. He knew that the emperor of Great Yong favored the civil over the military, and that military commanders held far less influence than civil officials. Though the Crown Prince was the heir to the throne, no one had ever mentioned any particular skill in martial arts.
He had the techniques and the strength, but in the heat of battle, his lack of practical experience made his movements seem stiff.
With that, Agula stopped holding back. His assault grew fiercer all at once.
He pounced like a true beast, fists and feet battering down in a storm of blows, each one carrying the force of a crushing attack.
Cui Yu was driven backward again and again. He struggled to keep up, several times only just evading a blow by the narrowest margin.
On the stands, the civil officials’ hearts were in their throats.
Vice Censor-in-Chief Li trembled with nerves.
Minister Zhang’s face had gone deathly pale. His lips quivered, and he almost called for the match to be stopped!
If anything happened to the Crown Prince, the consequences would be unthinkable!
But the words died in his throat.
This was a contest between two nations, a matter of Great Yong’s dignity. How could it be treated lightly?
All he could do was watch, his heart in his mouth.
The military commanders looked grave too, though they were more composed than the civil officials.
They were experts in their field and could tell the Crown Prince had real skill. Though his movements were somewhat stiff, every block and dodge protected a vital part of his body. Agula had yet to gain any real advantage.
Qi Mingchuan’s gaze remained fixed on the platform, his brow faintly furrowed.
He could see the Crown Prince’s predicament. The prince was strong and skilled, but he rarely fought anyone, and his reflexes in the heat of battle were a little slow.
On the raised platform, Cui Yu was being driven backward by Agula, retreating again and again until he was nearly at the edge.
Yet his gaze remained remarkably calm.
He was studying Agula: the patterns of his punches, the way he generated force, the openings in his defense...
Agula swung another heavy punch. Cui Yu slipped aside, and suddenly his footwork changed.
He stopped meeting Agula’s strength head-on.
His movements grew nimble, weaving effortlessly through Agula’s attacks.
On the viewing stand, the military commanders’ eyes lit up.
The Crown Prince had changed tactics!
Instead of matching Agula’s strength, he was relying on agility, using skill to overcome brute force!
Agula’s punches and kicks grew heavier, and his breathing more labored, yet he still couldn’t land a blow on Cui Yu.
Every time he seemed on the verge of striking him, Cui Yu slipped away at the very last moment. It was infuriating!
Qi Mingchuan’s rigid shoulders finally eased a little.
On the platform, Agula’s attacks began to slow.
He had plenty of stamina, but after sustaining such an intense assault for so long, anyone would start to tire. And with his massive build, every punch and every movement took more energy than it would for an ordinary man.
Cui Yu, meanwhile, remained as calm as a deep pool.
He was waiting for his moment.
Agula swung another punch. It was clearly weaker than before, and a fraction slower.
A glint flashed in Cui Yu’s eyes. He abruptly leaned aside, evading Agula’s fist, then drove his right foot hard into the ground and shot forward like an arrow loosed from its bow!
His left arm knocked Agula’s arm aside as he drew back his right leg and kicked hard into Agula’s flank!
He had been building up to this kick for a long time, and it landed with tremendous force.
Agula’s enormous frame staggered backward. His feet tangled, his footing gave way, and his body lurched back—
He had reached the edge of the platform. The sole of his shoe skidded over the edge of the stone—
“Thud!”
Agula’s tower-like body crashed onto the grass beyond the platform, raising a cloud of dust.
Cui Yu stood firmly on the platform, lowering his leg. His breathing was slightly uneven, a sheen of sweat on his brow, his dark robe snapping in the wind.
In an instant, the entire training ground fell into a brief, stunned silence.
Everyone stared blankly at Agula below the platform, then at the Crown Prince standing above.
The next moment—
“Bravo!”
A deafening roar of cheers erupted!
The Imperial Guards around the grounds raised their weapons in unison. Spears stood like a forest, while swords and sabers flashed in the sunlight. Their thunderous cheers shook the entire training ground.
The military commanders went wild.
Several generals leaped to their feet at once, faces flushed as they shouted their approval.
“Bravo!”
“Long live the Crown Prince!”
“That’s the Crown Prince of Great Yong!”
Their eyes reddened with excitement, their voices trembling. They looked ready to rush onto the platform and carry him on their shoulders.
The civil officials had forgotten all about appearances, too.
The Minister of Rites sprang to his feet and clapped until his hands were red. He could not hide his excitement, repeating, “Excellent, excellent, excellent!”
Vice Censor-in-Chief Li and the others were just as thrilled, their faces flushed and eyes reddened. Their applause and cheers were every bit as loud as those of the military commanders.
First Imperial Prince Cui Yang sat on the viewing stand, staring blankly at the dark figure on the platform.
He had always known that his younger brother was clever, that their father doted on him, and that he was the Empress’s legitimate son.
But he had never known that the Crown Prince’s martial skills were this exceptional.
Over the years, the Crown Prince had never distinguished himself in archery or horsemanship during the imperial hunts. He never sparred with anyone or showed off his skills.
Cui Yang had thought... He had thought the Crown Prince’s abilities had gradually grown rusty. He had even wondered whether the servants had taken the Crown Prince’s place when he supposedly hunted a bear. After their father reprimanded him over the incident, the Crown Prince had never done anything like it again. So Cui Yang had secretly looked down on him.
But now...
A rush of shame and anger rose in Cui Yang, and he clenched his fists.
Then, slowly, the shame ebbed away.
He let out a long breath and relaxed his shoulders.
At least... Great Yong hadn’t lost.
Cui Jin, the Sixth Prince, sat on the viewing stand, his expression darkening.
On the raised platform where the women sat, Lady Shen sat dazed, the teacup slipping from her fingers before she even realized it.
“Crash!”
The sound of porcelain breaking was especially sharp amid the cheers. Tea splashed across her skirt, but she didn’t notice.
Her face had gone completely pale. Her lips parted slightly as she stared at the dark figure on the platform, her pupils trembling as though she’d witnessed something impossible.
He won...
The Crown Prince had won again?!
Her fingers trembled. Shock and resentment filled her heart, along with a faint, creeping fear.
How... How could this be?!
She gripped her handkerchief so tightly that her knuckles turned white, her nails nearly digging into her palm.
The moment the Crown Prince kicked Agula off the platform, Shen Yanshui couldn’t stop herself from leaping to her feet.
Princess Ulan Tuya sprang up beside her, making such a commotion that Shen Yanshui’s movement went unnoticed for the moment.
Standing by the railing, Shen Yanshui looked at the Crown Prince and cried out excitedly, “Your Highness!”
She couldn’t help calling to him.
Her voice rang clear, full of irrepressible excitement and joy, standing out amid the uproar around her.
For some reason, when the Imperial Guards heard that bright cry of “Your Highness,” they began shouting along.
“Your Highness!”
“Your Highness!”
“Your Highness!”
The calls came one after another, each wave louder than the last. They spread from nearby to far away, from the Imperial Guards to the military commanders, then to the civil officials, until they swelled into a deafening chorus.
Cui Yu stood on the platform, breathing hard, his heart pounding like a drum.
His blood was still racing, and his muscles still trembled faintly. The exhilaration of the fight surged through every limb, lending him a sharpness rarely seen in him.
Then he heard a familiar voice and instinctively turned toward it.
Shen Yanshui stood on the raised platform. Her pale robes stirred gently in the wind, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Her eyes shone, bright with tears, and though they were rimmed with red, she was smiling.
Her smile held both delight and pride.
Cui Yu looked at her and smiled.
Shen Yanshui gazed at the dark figure on the platform, at the sharp brilliance in his eyes that she so rarely saw. Her eyes suddenly stung. She smiled, her lips lifting.
