Gao Yuexing immediately dismissed his suspicion and said, “No, that’s not right. Today, the court physician said that all of Imperial Physician Zhou’s relatives are settled in their hometown in the countryside. It will take some time to bring them into the capital.”
However, if what Zhou Xiaohu said is true, then the term Golden House could only refer to the imperial palace.
So, among the nobles in the palace with the surname Zhou, who could it be?
Li Fuxiang said, “Tell me, why do you think the culprits chose to act near the outskirts of the capital?”
Gao Yuexing thought to herself, indeed.
Consider this: if they really are relatives of Imperial Physician Zhou, traveling all the way from the countryside to the capital—a journey so long and so far—why would something happen so coincidentally near the capital’s outskirts?
Li Fuxiang said with great interest, “Ah Xing, do you think the culprits acted out of boldness from their skill, or were they forced to strike only this far?”
Gao Yuexing replied, “No matter what happened to Imperial Physician Zhou’s relatives, Consort Hui cannot escape suspicion. At least to me, she is not innocent.”
But convicting someone based solely on suspicion would be far too reckless.
Gao Yuexing was merely speaking her mind.
The people who disappeared in the carriage were a mother-in-law and daughter-in-law pair. The matter of searching for them still had to be handed over to the authorities. Even so, Li Fuxiang instructed his own Xiaoqi Battalion to put in extra effort and keep an eye out.
Li Fuxiang visited the new training grounds of the Xiaoqi Battalion, made a round of inspections, and sent word to Juxian Tower in the capital to request a lavish feast of wine and meat.
The others were holding bows, performing tricks on galloping horses.
The scene dazzled Gao Yuexing’s eyes.
Li Fuxiang patted his forehead and said, “Oh right, the autumn hunt is in half a month.”
The young men of the Xiaoqi Battalion, full of youthful vigor, were determined to showcase their skills during the autumn hunt.
Gao Yuexing also remembered this event.
The Autumn Hunt—another grand royal feast.
Gao Yuexing had been away from the capital for five years. She was not a martial enthusiast and had little interest in swordplay or these combative displays. However, when the Autumn Hunt and the Xiaoshan Hunting Grounds were mentioned, she couldn’t help but recall that spring when life flourished—yet Li Fuyou perished under the sharp teeth of wild dogs.
And immediately after, Imperial Consort Xu succumbed to grief.
Li Fuxiang took Gao Yuexing’s hand and walked slowly along the safe perimeter of the training grounds, avoiding the arrows flying in every direction.
Li Fuxiang himself was the center of attention in the Xiaoqi Battalion. His presence naturally drew everyone’s eyes, and it was even more captivating to see him accompanied by a delicate and beautiful young lady.
These straightforward and lively individuals couldn’t help but stir up excitement. Ji Wei and Zhang Ji, who hadn’t initially been at the training grounds, rushed out of the city upon hearing that Prince Xiang had arrived. When they arrived, they caught sight of Li Fuxiang and Gao Yuexing standing in a quiet spot on the grounds, whispering sweet nothings to one another.
Ji Wei and Zhang Ji both stopped in their tracks, unwilling to interrupt.
Zhang Ji instinctively positioned himself behind a weapons rack.
Ji Wei glared at him, saying, “Since when did you pick up such a habit?”
Zhang Ji glared back, retorting, “What are you insinuating? Be careful not to startle them.”
Ji Wei chuckled. “They won’t even notice you. Look at our young prince—he’s truly in the prime of his life. I still remember how, before last year’s expedition, he was just a confused, innocent child. Childhood sweethearts really do inspire envy.”
Zhang Ji, prompted by Ji Wei’s words, recalled the chaotic days of the previous year, during the war and the festival season. With the army and home affairs both in disarray, Li Fuxiang had abruptly joined the military. He seemed like an inexperienced fledgling—pitiful and easy to deceive.
Zhang Ji said meaningfully, “We all had ulterior motives, thinking he was nothing more than a gilded, embroidered pillow. But it was the exact opposite—he was just pretending to be a pig to eat the tiger.”
Ji Wei replied, “Later, I inquired with Commander Zheng and confirmed that his bloodline is genuine. Our eldest lady’s death in the palace was suspicious, but for our young prince to survive and grow up safely is no small feat.”
Zhang Ji asked, “What do you think his ambitions might amount to?”
Ji Wei shook his head. “You still haven’t figured out his nature. Whether he has ambition or not is one thing; even if he does, he wouldn’t lay it bare for us to see. We don’t know, and neither does anyone else.”
Zhan Ji gazed at the high and distant sky outside and said, “The wings of His Highness, the Prince of Xin, are growing fuller day by day. In the future, I’m afraid it will be yet another bloodless clash of swords and shadows.”
Ji Wei touched the wine pouch at his waist, but what he drank was not wine but worry. He sighed, “The future… ha, ha. With these old bones of mine, who knows if I’ll live to see the so-called future you speak of? When it comes to matters like this, we soldiers have only two choices: either pick a side or steer clear of both.”
Zhan Ji glanced at him.
Ji Wei was indeed old. He often said that he would likely spend the rest of his life retiring peacefully in the capital, no longer waiting for a chance to return to the battlefield.
Suddenly, Ji Wei fixed Zhan Ji with a serious gaze and said solemnly, “We’ve known each other for more than ten years. Today, I’ll give you a heartfelt piece of advice. It’s up to you whether you listen or not.”
Zhan Ji replied, “I’ve been your subordinate for more than ten years. Just speak, what wouldn’t I listen to?”
Ji Wei said, “You were raised by the Zheng family. If you can’t set aside your gratitude, then stand with Prince Xiang. But remember, you are also a subject of the Great Xu Dynasty. If you wish to leave behind a name as a loyal and virtuous general, never forget that you are, above all, the emperor’s subject.”
These were truly heartfelt words. As long as the current emperor remained alive, the stability of the realm and the well-being of the people depended on him. No matter what, carelessness was not an option.
At the other end of the drill ground, Li Fuxiang had painstakingly found a two-stone bow and handed it to Gao Yuexing, asking, “Do you want to give it a try?”
Gao Yuexing shook her head without hesitation.
This was not out of politeness; she genuinely had no interest.
What a person loves or doesn’t love is determined by their nature. Most girls love flowers, while most boys love horses. Exceptions exist, but they are not common.
Gao Yuexing wasn’t genuinely fond of horseback riding. Rather, she clung to the memory of the intimate affection she experienced when Li Fuxiang taught her to ride.
That was the day after their wedding.
When Gao Yuexing newly married into the prince’s household, she had only met Prince Xiang a few times, and there was no deep or intimate connection between them. Raised in a secluded boudoir with limited experience, she had fallen for Prince Xiang at first sight amidst the chaos in Shu. The imperial edict granting the marriage arrived so suddenly that she hardly had time to react. Her wish had been fulfilled seemingly without effort.
Yet, when things are obtained too easily, they often lead to unease and the fear of losing them.
That day, Gao Yuexing felt as if she were dreaming. Upon returning to the capital, during the lantern festival on His Highness Prince Xiang’s birthday, she had an unexpected encounter with the man of her dreams.
Yet, on that day, they didn’t have the chance to exchange many words.
On the night of her wedding, Li Fuxiang lifted her bridal veil. Under the brilliance of the red candles, she overheard the servants outside discussing the marriage. Only then did she learn that this union was something Prince Xiang had earnestly requested from the emperor.
The emperor had not been willing for him to marry too early. Thus, that night, Prince Xiang only shared the ceremonial nuptial wine with her before being summoned to the palace by the emperor.
Gao Yuexing spent the entire night alone in the bridal chamber, listening to the faint tinkling of wind chimes under the eaves. The peonies dangling from the red silk spun slowly. The festive glow of the lanterns gradually dimmed, and the light of dawn outside the window grew brighter and brighter.
She sat silently on the bed for the entire night. Forcing herself to muster some energy, she got up, dressed neatly in front of the mirror, and opened the door, only to see Li Fuxiang standing amidst the falling snow. Snow had accumulated on his head and shoulders, soaking a large part of his robe.
She had no idea how long he had been waiting in the courtyard, yet he had never disturbed her.
When Gao Yuexing tried to recall her feelings that night, they were already blurry. It seemed that the tender sprouts of sorrow hadn’t had the chance to take root. On that morning, Li Fuxiang’s steadfast presence in the courtyard dispelled them entirely.
Li Fuxiang extended his hand to her and said, “Let me take you to the riding grounds. Do you know how to ride a horse?”
The first time Gao Yuexing mounted a horse, Li Fuxiang supported her from behind. Ignorant and fearless, she placed her complete trust in him. As long as he held her hand from behind, she dared to try anything. Her maidservant, who had accompanied her from her family, was so frightened that her face turned pale. But Gao Yuexing laughed heartily, experiencing for the first time the exhilaration of galloping on horseback.
Now.
Gao Yuexing stared at the lightweight bow Li Fuxiang had meticulously chosen for her but hesitated to reach for it. Instead, she coquettishly said to him, “You teach me, or I won’t learn.”
Li Fuxiang readily agreed, “Alright, I’ll teach you. But you have to hold it first.”
Gao Yuexing raised her hand, letting her index finger slowly glide along the coarse grain of the bowstring, yet still refused to take it. Her hand wandered near the bowstring before suddenly shifting direction to touch Li Fuxiang’s knuckles. She said, “I’m clumsy. You’ll have to teach me hand over hand.”
Li Fuxiang hadn’t yet grasped the deeper meaning of her words, but he did notice the unusual warmth of her palm today.
This wasn’t their first time holding hands.
Yet, Gao Yuexing’s hands were always cool to the touch, no matter the season.
Feeling the heat radiating from her hand, Li Fuxiang’s skin, along with something deep inside him, instinctively tightened.
In that moment, he didn’t want to think about anything else. Whatever Gao Yuexing said was what it was. If she wanted something, he would grant it without hesitation.
He said, “Alright.”
Finally, Gao Yuexing took the bow. She turned around and leaned back, pressing her slight frame against Li Fuxiang’s left chest.
Her delicate back fit snugly against the spot where Li Fuxiang’s heartbeat was most intense.
Li Fuxiang felt a bit flustered. He wanted his heartbeat to slow down, to soften, so as not to disturb Gao Yuexing nestled in his arms. But his body was completely out of his control; nothing he did seemed to work. It was as if he had been bewitched, and the culprit was none other than Gao Yuexing, who knowingly and willfully stirred the storm.
Gao Yuexing’s posture as she held the bow looked decent at a glance, but upon closer inspection, it was riddled with flaws.
Imitating without understanding the essence—like drawing a tiger based on a cat or carving a gourd from its mold—would never yield mastery.
Following her lead, Li Fuxiang personally guided her hand to rest on the back of the bow and applied force. Beneath his outwardly pale knuckles, his palms were sweating profusely.
Gao Yuexing could feel it, but she said nothing.
They nocked the arrow, drew the bowstring.
The first arrow completely missed the target, falling embarrassingly just a few steps from where they stood.
Not far away, the soldiers of the Xiaoqi Camp, who had gathered to watch the show, let out a collective sigh of disappointment.
Li Fuxiang didn’t feel humiliated in the slightest; his heart was on the verge of bursting out of his chest. He couldn’t understand what was happening to him. Lowering his gaze, he found himself staring at Gao Yuexing’s ear, porcelain white like jade, right in front of him.
Abruptly, Li Fuxiang released his grip.
Gao Yuexing slowly lowered the bow. Sensing something, she turned her head and noticed Li Fuxiang’s unusual expression—like a cat that had fallen into water, a mix of embarrassment and a peculiar emotion she couldn’t quite decipher.
As she turned her face, the wind brushed past the strands of hair near her ear, grazing lightly against Li Fuxiang’s neck.
Gao Yuexing spoke, “Your Highness, I want to ask you something…”
Li Fuxiang was silent for a moment. His voice, hoarse, replied, “Ask.”
Gao Yuexing looked up at him. “If one day, the girl you deeply love forgets you without reason, and you no longer exist in her memory, what would you do?”