Volume One, Chapter 15: Her Arrow Aimed Straight at Xiang Zhu’s Face!

Jiang Menghan’s apricot-shaped eyes brimmed with fierce hostility as she raised her horsewhip high and swung it toward Xiang Zhu’s cheek.

If the whip struck Xiang Zhu, it would surely tear her skin and disfigure her face!

But Xiang Zhu was no martial artist and couldn’t dodge in time. Instinctively, she lifted her arm to shield her face.

The scorching sun was blocked by the brocade garment, and a familiar presence enveloped Xiang Zhu.

It was Zhao Ye.

Ouyang Yanwan, who had been riding her horse rapidly toward them, forgot to dismount and sat there stunned.

Xiang Zhu’s heart skipped a few beats.

Had the whip landed on Zhao Ye, her fate would have been sealed.

Driven by sheer will to survive, Xiang Zhu tried to grab the horsewhip barehanded at the crucial moment.

But she overestimated her reflexes; the whip struck her wrist instead.

A fiery pain seared through her wrist bone.

Sweat beads as large as soybeans broke out on her brow, and she bit her lip until it bled just to stifle her cry.

Fortunately, the whip missed Zhao Ye.

Zhao Ye caught a glimpse of Xiang Zhu’s swollen wrist from the corner of his eye and suddenly turned, shooting a sharp glare at Jiang Menghan. “Miss Jiang, what is the meaning of this?”

Though Xiang Zhu did not know the young woman on horseback, she had seen her conversing with Ouyang Yanwan earlier.

Based on what she knew of Ouyang Yanwan’s social circle and how Zhao Ye addressed her, Xiang Zhu guessed this must be Jiang Menghan, the legitimate second daughter of Minister Jiang from the Ministry of War.

Jiang Menghan, spoiled and accustomed to indulgence, saw today’s outing from the palace not as a royal engagement with the noble Fourth Prince Zhao Ye but as a casual playmate.

She felt no fear of Zhao Ye.

“Fourth Lord, this lowly servant shamelessly climbed into your bed, even though she knows you have a fiancée and are soon to be wed.”

“At today’s gathering, Fourth Lord, surely you understand everyone’s true intentions? You bring this lowly servant here, but where does that leave Wan’er?”

Jiang Menghan spoke as if it were all justified: “I merely gave her a whip lash. Fourth Lord, why this expression? Could it be you pity her?”

As they exchanged words, Cui Nanlu also approached.

Ouyang Yanwan, hearing Cui Nanlu softly call her, snapped back to reality and dismounted.

She had intended to explain to Jiang Menghan that the person that night was not Xiang Zhu, but now she changed her mind.

Ouyang Yanwan had investigated Xiang Zhu: a compliant, dutiful girl with no ambitions to curry favor with the powerful.

Perhaps Zhao Ye had also looked into Xiang Zhu, knowing she was an old servant of the palace with good character who had helped many people, which explained his protective attitude.

When Xiang Zhu reached the age to leave the palace, she would shed her status and become a commoner.

Her years of experience inside the palace would make her future life smoother.

Her grandfather and father had taught her that noble character matters more than birth.

She had only struck Shuang Yun because Shuang Yun had it coming.

She refrained from harming Xiang Zhu not only due to their status difference but because she believed Xiang Zhu, who was so single-minded in wanting to leave the palace, would not harbor ill intentions toward Zhao Ye and had no future connection with her, so she need not concern herself.

However, all of Ouyang Yanwan’s assumptions were shattered by what she had just witnessed.

She even dared to suspect that the one who truly shared intimate contact with Zhao Ye that day was Xiang Zhu.

And Shuang Yun was merely a decoy Zhao Ye had put forward to protect Xiang Zhu.

Zhao Ye’s anger flared further as he saw Jiang Menghan’s indifferent attitude, refusing to acknowledge any wrongdoing.

But he knew Jiang Menghan was Ouyang Yanwan’s close confidante and that the whipping was not ordered by Ouyang Yanwan but was Jiang Menghan’s impulsive act.

Suppressing his urge to look at Xiang Zhu’s painfully swollen wrist, Zhao Ye met Jiang Menghan’s gaze coldly.

“Since Miss Jiang does not welcome me, I shall take my leave.”

“Yuanbao, Xiang Zhu, return to the palace!”

Zhao Ye turned and was about to mount his carriage.

Ouyang Yanwan narrowed her eyes, her indifferent gaze resting on Xiang Zhu.

A Ye decided to leave without saying a word to him.

This Xiang Zhu seemed to have an ever-growing influence on him.

“Your Highness!”

Xiang Zhu knelt on the ground, her face pale. “I know I have disturbed Your Highness and the young lords and ladies’ enjoyment. When we return to the palace, I will report to the Lady Steward and accept punishment. I beg Your Highness not to be angry.”

Zhao Ye instinctively bent down to help her.

Xiang Zhu kowtowed deeply. “I will take this as a warning and never offend again. Please, Your Highness, forgive me this once!”

His anger softened as he withdrew his hand.

If he returned to the palace enraged over Xiang Zhu’s injury, it would be a catastrophe for her.

“You have indeed been hurt. Yuanbao, take care of her so she won’t offend any noble again!”

Xiang Zhu bowed her head. “Thank you, Your Highness, for your mercy.”

Yuanbao bent over. “I obey the order.”

After giving the cold command, Zhao Ye turned to Jiang Menghan.

“Miss Jiang, do not be so arrogant in front of me. Even if my men are unruly, it is not your place to discipline them.”

“This time I am letting it pass out of respect for Yanwan and Tian Gan, but next time, I will not be so forgiving.”

Having said this, Zhao Ye no longer looked at Jiang Menghan but hurried over to Ouyang Yanwan, his expression softening.

“That scene just now nearly spoiled the mood. If you are angry, I apologize.”

Ouyang Yanwan teased, “Why don’t you say it was Han Jie who egged on Sister Han?”

Zhao Ye composed himself. “I knew Yanwan rushed over to stop the explanation.”

“After all, she’s just a servant; no need for Yanwan to trouble herself. It’s only because the one I punished was sent to the laundry bureau, and Shuang Ling fell ill that I brought her here.”

Ouyang Yanwan’s eyes curved in a smile. “Ah, you really understand me.”

If he truly intended to take Xiang Zhu out for a palace outing, he could have just brought Yuanbao or replaced her with a guard.

Was this really the excuse he had used to persuade himself?

Under the golden sunshine in the vast blue sky, the two walked away hand in hand, their elongated shadows intertwining clumsily.

Farther off, several young men on horseback galloped back, laughing as they waved their whips and shouted Zhao Ye’s name.

A groom was already leading Zhao Ye’s usual fine horse waiting ahead.

Even kneeling on the ground, Xiang Zhu could keenly feel Jiang Menghan’s gaze fixed on her.

Once the surroundings quieted, Xiang Zhu got to her feet.

Yuanbao looked at Xiang Zhu’s wrist worriedly. “Sister Xiang Zhu, there are two doctors in the garden. I’ll go with you to find them.”

Xiang Zhu, drained of strength by the pain, whispered, “The doctors in the garden are for the masters. They wouldn’t treat a lowly servant like me. It’s only a minor injury. If Yuanbao knows bone-setting, just help me realign it.”

“Then you must bear it a little longer.”

Knowing how hard it was for Xiang Zhu to endure the pain, Yuanbao didn’t hesitate. She stepped forward and quickly set the wrist bone.

The sharp pain made Xiang Zhu’s vision blacken in waves. Yuanbao supported her for a moment until she recovered, then withdrew and took out a bottle of medicine.

“Use this first. Rub it for a while, and it will work.”

Xiang Zhu accepted it and looked toward the distance, seeing Zhao Ye and the others galloping into the distant woods. She murmured, “I won’t be a bother. Let’s pack up so that when His Highness returns, he can rest well.”

Packing up mainly meant moving Zhao Ye’s usual belongings from the carriage to a tent set up near the riding ground.

Xiang Zhu did not dare use the ointment; its scent was strong, and she wasn’t sure if Zhao Ye could tolerate it.

“Rest a while. Let’s play touhu (pitch-pot).”

“What’s fun about that? Archery would be better.”

“Haha, Shuang’er wants to show off her newly practiced archery skills in front of her sisters?”

It turned out the Crown Prince’s heir Zhao Jing and Princess Zhao Yuanshuang had also arrived.

Hearing the noise outside, Xiang Zhu dared not wander about and stood quietly by the door curtain with Yuanbao, listening carefully, afraid to miss the master’s summons.

“Archery? Great, but shooting at targets like before is too boring. I have a new game.”

Jiang Menghan, returning on horseback, suggested loudly.

Ouyang Yanwan smiled and asked, “Oh? What new game?”

“Of course, living targets,” Jiang Menghan said quickly seeing the change in people’s expressions. “But not the kind where you put fruit on people’s heads. We’ll have attendants hold targets and walk in circles while we take turns shooting from the center. How about that?”

“Brilliant!”

Several voices found this novel and wanted to try.

Jiang Menghan’s cousin Jiang Tianzhi pondered, “But the attendants holding the targets can’t be chosen arbitrarily. For fairness, men pick servants, women pick footmen.”

Zhao Ye’s hand tightened on the reins. If so, he would choose Xiang Zhu to hold the target.

Just as he was about to speak, Han Xiuwen arrived leisurely on horseback and said, “That’s fair indeed. Let’s pick the right people and begin.”

Zhao Ye pressed his lips together and instinctively looked toward his camp.

The four young men and four young women naturally selected four footmen and four maids, among whom was Xiang Zhu.

The eight held eight targets, maintaining roughly equal distances, slowly circling the marked area in the riding ground.

The eight youths stood in the center, drawing their bows and aiming at the bullseye.

Whether by coincidence or design, the target Jiang Menghan aimed at was held by Xiang Zhu.

Jiang Menghan nocked an arrow, drew the bow, and aimed slightly below the red bullseye, seemingly targeting Xiang Zhu’s cheek…