Fu Zhang was momentarily stunned. His mind raced to identify the man—handsome, frail, arrogant. He ventured cautiously, “You’re… Prince Qi?”

Gu Ruoxu sneered, “You don’t know your place, and you dare accuse His Highness of obstructing official duties? Prime Minister Fu, you’re truly audacious.”

A cold wind swept through, and a gleaming Yanling blade was suddenly pressed against Fu Zhang’s neck. Zi Ting barked, “Kneel!”

Sweat poured from Fu Zhang’s forehead.

Feng Que was the true king among kings. When the late emperor conferred the title of Prince Qi upon the Feng family, it was meant to be equal in status. No prince in Great Chen had ever surpassed Prince Qi. Aside from the emperor, Prince Qi held the highest rank. The Feng family had declined and withdrawn from court affairs, and Fu Zhang, now powerful as Prime Minister with growing influence, had clearly forgotten about Feng Que.

What rotten luck—choking on cold water, as the saying goes. He’d tried to show off, only to kick the hornet’s nest.

He quickly apologized to Feng Que, trying to curry favor. “Your Highness, what brings you to the Treasure Pavilion today?”

“Obviously to shop. Or do you think I need my fiancée to buy things for me?”

Fu Zhang’s temper flared. You want your fiancée to pay? Do you even have one? Wait—what did he mean? Did he overhear the conversation with Liang Youyi?

Feng Que jerked his chin toward the young nobles. “Apologize to them.”

Fu Zhang had no choice but to bow his head and apologize one by one. “I didn’t realize you were here on business. It was my fault for speaking out of turn. Please forgive me.”

The young nobles, seeing him so meek, were satisfied and began calling out to each other: “Isn’t there a horse race? Let’s go watch! Come on!”

They swarmed around Feng Que and left in a flurry, leaving Fu Zhang behind like a monkey in a cage, gawked at by the crowd.

Fu Zhang’s expression soured as he watched Feng Que swagger off. In his heart, he fumed: A fallen royal house, a sickly man with no future—what’s he so arrogant about? I’ll outlast you if I have to grit my teeth through it!

His attendant Zhao Hu was nowhere to be found, so Fu Zhang had a servant help him limp downstairs. Fuming, he climbed into his carriage.

Not far down the road, they spotted Zhao Hu clutching his head, walking toward the Treasure Pavilion.

“Zhao Hu, what are you doing here?”

“I was guarding the second-floor entrance, then suddenly my head hurt and everything went black,” Zhao Hu said, holding his head. “When I came to, I was lying in the woods ahead. My head still hurts terribly.”

Fu Zhang’s face darkened. Everything was unraveling.

Zhao Hu had clearly been attacked. But by whom? And for what purpose?

The Racetrack.

Gu Jinyan sent an invitation to Liang Youyi, asking her to join her at the Qilin Pavilion’s racetrack for horse racing and betting.

Liang Youyi accepted without hesitation. The Prime Minister’s residence was in shambles—wasn’t that worth celebrating?

Gu Jinyan was the eldest legitimate daughter of Duke Wen and the younger sister of Gu Ruoxu. She had been close friends with Liang Youyi since childhood. At sixteen, she married Li Huanxian, heir to Duke Fu, and had a son named Li Zhonghuai, who was nearly two years old. Once a woman marries, it’s rare for her to attend events like horse races.

Fortunately, the Duchess of Fu was open-minded. When Gu Ruoxu asked his sister to come out and enjoy the races, the Duchess wholeheartedly supported it, saying, “Jinyan, go have fun. I’ll take care of the child. I just love seeing you happy.”

Back at her family home, Gu Ruoxu said, “Invite Princess Yunshang to join you. I saw her a few days ago—she seems different now.”

Gu Jinyan immediately sent the invitation to Liang Youyi.

When Liang Youyi and Gu Jinyan reunited at the racetrack, the two sisters embraced with joy. To Gu Jinyan, it was simply a long-overdue reunion. But to Liang Youyi, it felt like meeting again across lifetimes. In her dreams, due to false accusations from Fu Xiu’en and Fu Sangyu, Gu Jinyan’s son Li Zhonghuai had been blamed for the death of Liang Youyi and Fu Zhang’s legitimate son, leading to the wrongful downfall of both the Duke Fu and Duke Wen households.

In her past life, Liang Youyi had been confined to the inner courtyard and had never seen Gu Jinyan again before her death. Yao Suyi had told her that in her final moments, Gu Jinyan kept crying out: “Youyou, I’m sorry…”

“I didn’t kill Boren, but Boren died because of me.” Seeing Gu Jinyan again, Liang Youyi was overwhelmed with sorrow.

“Jinyan… I’m sorry…”

Normally cheerful and composed, Liang Youyi clung to Gu Jinyan, her eyes reddening.

Gu Jinyan gently patted her back, her voice thick with emotion. “Youyou, it’s my fault. I should’ve made more effort to visit you.”

Gu Jinyan had once been the epitome of a refined noblewoman—graceful and reserved. But after marrying into the Li family, her personality had grown more forthright, like the bold and hearty people of Qingzhou. Now, she spoke plainly and freely, more spirited than ever.

“Amitabha, at least you didn’t bring the Prime Minister this time.”

“Don’t worry—I’ll never bring him again.”

“When are you and Fu Zhang finally getting married? I hesitated to ask before, but you’ve dragged it out year after year. I really can’t stand it anymore.”

“Jinyan, I’m tired. I don’t want to go through with it. A few days ago, I asked him to break off the engagement. He refused. My mother refused to.”

Gu Jinyan’s eyes welled up. She gripped Liang Youyi’s hand. “Then what will you do? What can I do to help?”

The Duke Ding household doted on daughters—but only on Liang Yanzhi. Liang Youyi truly had no one to speak for her.

“I will break off the engagement! Duke Ding’s house only values Fu Zhang’s loyalty to the Empress Dowager and the benefits it brings. I want him ruined—cast aside like a dog. I want Duke Ding and Fu Zhang to tear each other apart!”

Gu Jinyan gripped her hand tightly. “Youyou, don’t worry. I’ll help you. Duke Wen and Duke Fu will help you, too!”

“Good, Jinyan. Then I won’t hold back.” Liang Youyi smiled faintly. “Seeing the Prime Minister’s residence in chaos yesterday—I finally felt vindicated.”

“Look at you—your smile is stunning like a beauty from a painting. I haven’t seen you smile in years. You must smile more often.”

“Enough flattery. Let’s go see the horses.”

In Dongzhou, everyone knew the Qilin Pavilion was fabulously wealthy. It was famed for collecting treasures from across the land—including rare and priceless steeds. As the year-end approached, the Pavilion had brought in a new batch of purebred Kangju horses from the northwest. Nobles in Tianfeng City flocked to see them. The poem “The Ferghana steed from Kangju, lean and sharp-boned, ears like bamboo, hooves light as wind—such a horse could gallop ten thousand miles” was a perfect description of them. Not only did nobles covet them, but the Ministry of War and the Imperial Stables were eager to acquire them for breeding with Great Chen’s warhorses.

Today, the Qilin Pavilion opened its racetrack for a grand horse race. At the entrance hall of the Imperial Stables, a betting table was set up. Horses numbered 1 to 29 were grouped in sets of five. The Pavilion hired half the jockeys; the other half were selected on-site. Any on-site jockey who won first place in every group would receive a lavish gift and an 80% discount on horse purchases.

Gu Jinyan and Liang Youyi admired the horses, awed by their magnificence. Each one was tall, powerful, and spirited.

Liang Youyi took a liking to a red bay named “Chaoguang.”

Chaoguang was wild and untamed, its coat blazing like fire without a single blemish.

Pointing to the horse, Liang Youyi said, “Master Jian, I’ll ride that one.”

Jian Yuheng was delighted and quickly instructed the stable boy, “Number 9, red bay Chaoguang—ten shadows in one… Princess Yunshang will ride.”

The boy noted it down immediately.

Gu Jinyan chose a white horse that looked gentler. The boy called out, “Number 27, Chasing Wind—ridden by the wife of Duke Fu’s heir.”

Liang Youyi said to Gu Jinyan, “Chasing Wind looks like a fine horse, but it has tear grooves and a white spot on its forehead—bad omens for the rider.”

Gu Jinyan replied, “I don’t plan to buy it. I just want to ride with you.”

Just as they were about to mount and take a few laps, someone exclaimed—“Liang Youyi, you’re actually here?”