In that dreamlike past life, even a colossal household like the Duke Ding estate could be wiped out with a single accusation of “imperial relatives meddling in politics,” while Fu Zhang not only emerged unscathed but was even granted the title of First-Class Marquis Changxin. How could someone like that be as full of flaws as he pretended to be? Was she going to be forced into marriage again by an imperial edict from the Empress Dowager, just like in her previous life?

Even knowing the plot, life in the Prime Minister’s inner residence would still be riddled with wounds and wasted years. The feeling of having her fate controlled by others was unbearable.

Seeing her silent and withdrawn, Gu Jinyan said, “Youyou, don’t worry. One hero needs three allies, one fence needs three stakes. As long as you trust me, I’ll do everything I can to help you.”

“What trouble are you facing?” Gu Ruoxu came over leading a spirited chestnut horse. “Don’t bottle it up. If it comes to a fight, I’m ready anytime.”

Marquis Yannan’s young heir, Ji Ran, tall and lanky like a reed, chimed in with a grin: “Princess Sister, got any bad luck to share? Hearing your misfortunes would cheer me right up. I grew up on your stories—I’d take a knife for my heroic sister without hesitation.”

Liang Youyi couldn’t help but smile. How foolish she’d been before, brainwashed by Fu Zhang, playing the virtuous wife in the back courtyard every day. Fu Zhang looked down on these so-called second-generation scoundrels—but compared to a hypocrite like him, they were downright lovable.

“Sis, stop standing around—how about a few laps?”

“Let’s go!” Her spirits lifted. Riding Chao Guang, she galloped freely around the racetrack. That long-lost feeling of flying against the wind lit up her eyes with a brilliant spark. Before her great-grandmother passed, she’d told her to hide her talents. After entering the capital, her mother confiscated her bow and arrows. After being betrothed to Fu Zhang, even horseback riding and mingling with noble peers became forbidden. Day after day, she wasted her youth beneath the gray square of sky in the bamboo courtyard. She’d endured long enough—it was time to cast it all off!

Mounting her horse again and returning to the racetrack, a sense of fulfillment swelled in her chest like rising yeast. She patted Chao Guang’s neck and said, “Let’s take first place, shall we?”

“Pffft~” Chao Guang snorted sharply, lifting its head high, ready to charge.

Chao Guang and Chasing Wind were both placed in the first group by Jian Yuheng. In addition to Princess Yunshang and Gu Jinyan, he sent out his three best riders. He wanted this batch of horses to make a dazzling debut.

Princess Yunshang and Gu Jinyan were top-tier noblewomen of Great Chen, instantly elevating the value of the Qilin Pavilion’s steeds. Especially Princess Yunshang—hailed as the most beautiful girl on the Eastern Continent at age eleven, and at twelve, personally delivering military rations across a thousand miles, earning her the title of Princess Yunshang from the late emperor.

Five horses completed their warm-up and lined up for the race.

Liang Youyi and Gu Jinyan changed into riding gear, double-checked their saddles, and waited for the signal.

Suddenly, Jian Yuheng called out, “Riders Three, Four, and Five—step down. You’re being replaced!”

Liang Youyi and Gu Jinyan turned to see the replacements—familiar faces!

Feng Que, Gu Ruoxu, and Ji Ran.

Jian Yuheng was shrewd. No matter how skilled the original riders were, they couldn’t match the influence of the capital’s elite young nobles.

Feng Que chose a black Kangju horse, its coat gleaming like satin, with four snow-white hooves. Its name: Benxiao—”Galloping Through the Night.”

Feng Que wore white, his hair tied back, face pale, fingers so elegant they made one want to hold them.

Gu Jinyan greeted him, “Your Highness! That horse is excellent—but I’m betting on Youyou to win.” As her closest friend, she believed Youyou could outshine anyone.

Feng Que looked directly at Liang Youyi. She stood tall in her riding gear, the snowy field behind her like a canvas for her heroic figure.

“Princess, do you think you’ll win?”

“Benxiao is a fine horse,” Liang Youyi replied.

Her words made Gu Ruoxu and Ji Ran yelp in protest. “Your Highness, are you serious?”

She was implying Feng Que’s body couldn’t match Benxiao’s strength!

Feng Que tugged his reins and laughed, glancing at Gu Ruoxu. “Still better than you two.”

Everyone burst out laughing. Gu Ruoxu grinned, “They say the young prince always wins his bets—today I’ll rewrite history and take first place!”

Ji Ran puffed up like a proud colt. “Ask me first if I’ll allow it!”

“I’ll be the champion,” Feng Que declared.

Watching them banter, Liang Youyi felt curious. Everyone said the young prince was idle and frivolous, but she sensed something extraordinary about him. To always win at gambling—was it divine luck, or supreme strategy?

Still, her riding skills were formidable, and Chao Guang was a top-tier horse. She might just take first place! It felt like ten years ago again—carefree, full of hope.

The flag bearer signaled: Riders, take your positions.

Five riders lined up. The stands were packed, the crowd buzzing with excitement.

Another signal: Ready—

CLANG! A loud gong rang out. The riders leapt onto their horses, gripped the reins, tightened their legs, and became one with their steeds, charging toward the finish line.

Liang Youyi had lived in Huainan with her great-grandmother since infancy. In that quiet town, she rode freely like a cloud in the mountains. Even her riding instructor admitted she was unmatched. Before her great-grandmother died, she warned her repeatedly: never reveal your true skill in the capital. Eight years had passed since her death, and Liang Youyi finally understood her caution.

Without her protection, every bit of excellence she showed was met with harsh suppression from the Duke and the Prime Minister’s households. She wouldn’t endure it anymore. Her dream had shown her: no matter how much she endured, the ending was never good.

The cold wind roared past her ears. Before her lay only the open track, her horse’s proud head and pounding hooves.

Forward, forward!

A white-and-black blur kept pace beside her—Feng Que, neither ahead nor behind. She pressed her legs tighter, hands steady, urging Chao Guang to full speed.

Half a lap from the finish, she saw the line ahead and pushed harder—only to find Chao Guang losing control!

“Whinny~” The horse was in distress, rearing wildly. The world spun, and Liang Youyi nearly flipped off. She clung to its neck, legs tight.

Chao Guang bolted, leaping off the track.

Feng Que, Gu Jinyan, and the others all gave chase.

Liang Youyi couldn’t see a thing, just wind and Chao Guang’s frantic cries.

“Whoosh~” Someone leapt onto the horse.

“Let go!” The person grabbed her collar, spun off the saddle, shielding her head and waist as they rolled to the ground.

When they stopped, she looked up at Feng Que, too shaken to speak. Her throat was dry from wind and nerves, and she coughed uncontrollably.

Feng Que helped her up. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she coughed, waving a hand. “Just choked on the wind.”

Feng Que called for hot water. When Gu Jinyan arrived, he said, “Please look after the Princess.” He stepped back.

The others arrived. Gu Jinyan stood beside Liang Youyi. Chao Guang had been subdued. The vet examined the horse and found traces of a drug behind its ear. It was maling—a hallucinogen for horses. Harmless on dry skin, but once the horse sweated, it absorbed the drug, causing auditory hallucinations and frenzied behavior.

Today, Liang Youyi was lucky to survive.

Jian Yuheng’s face turned green. “This was supposed to be a grand debut—now it’s a bloodbath!”

“Investigate. Find out who did this. When you do—skin them alive.”

Liang Youyi looked at Feng Que seriously. He looked back, his deep eyes wild and sharp, full of defiant charm.

She was different again today. Still reserved, still stoic—but glowing.

Feng Que thought: today, she truly lived up to her title as the most beautiful woman on the Eastern Continent.

“Thank you, Your Highness, for saving my life,” she said solemnly.

Feng Que lifted his chin, meeting her cool, elegant gaze. “I just liked the horse. Wasn’t trying to save you.”

“Then I owe you a favor.”

“No need. If you ever need help, just say so. Don’t bottle it up.”

He was like his words—ethereal in beauty, wild in spirit. He offered her friendship, yet refused to admit it.

Liang Youyi’s long lashes trembled slightly, and mist welled up in her eyes.

Feng Que took a step forward, then retreated and said, “Well, just so you know, I didn’t bully you… I always keep my word.”

Ji Ran grinned and chimed in, “Right, right! My grandaunt is the Grand Empress Dowager. If anyone bullies you, send your maid to tell me. If I can’t fix it, I’ll ask my grandaunt to help.”

Gu Jinyan raised her hand immediately. “Exactly! If you need anything, just say the word. The Duke of Fu’s estate may lack many things, but not manpower. Anything under a thousand people—we’ve got you covered.”

Gu Ruoxu added, “I’m the odd one out in the Duke of Wen’s estate. Everyone else studies and enters officialdom, but I like stirring things up. So if you’re short on silver or need to fight, come to me.”

Liang Youyi’s eyes burned with emotion.

In the political world, currying favor is instinctive, and alliances among the powerful are the norm. If people knew she was opposing giants like the Duke of Ding, the Empress Dowager, and Prime Minister Fu Zhang, the noble families and aristocrats would avoid her like the plague—or worse, kick her while she’s down. Only these so-called “good-for-nothings,” the ones dismissed as idle and useless, stood by her without calculating gains or losses, offering wholehearted support.

In her dream of that past life, these very people—scorned by all—had gone to war when the nation was in peril, driving the Eastern Qi army to their capital. But none of them came back. They were true men who died for their country. To receive their promises now was an honor, a source of pride, and a pillar of strength.

She wanted to say thank you, but it felt too thin. “From now on, drinks are on me,” she said.

In her current predicament, these so-called wastrels would help her turn the tide. So let her raise her finest wine—for herself, and for a life that refuses to bow!