Gu Ruoxu spotted Liang Youyi and called out cheerfully, “Princess Yunshang! What are you doing here?”

“Second Brother Gu, and you?”

“I’m here to pick someone up… I saw Fu Zhang at noon. Don’t tell me you’re here for him?” Seeing her eyes slightly red, he added, “What, he ignored you and made you cry?”

Liang Youyi tightened her reins, lips barely moving: “No.”

“If he bullies you, I’ll beat him up for you. Don’t worry—I’ll throw a black sack over him and smash him with a brick. No one will trace it back to you.”

“No need to trouble you, Second Brother.” Her stomach twisted in pain, and she frowned slightly. “I’ll handle it myself.”

Gu Ruoxu spoke playfully, but Liang Youyi knew he meant it. Though he was idle and carefree, he was fiercely loyal. He doted on his sister Gu Jinyan, and by extension, sincerely protected her close friend Liang Youyi.

Unfortunately, Fu Zhang disliked her association with the Gu family. Over time, she drifted away from the siblings and hadn’t seen them in ages.

Gu Ruoxu asked, “Heading back to the capital?”

“Mm.”

“Let’s ride together!” Knowing she was quiet, he took the initiative. “Want to race?”

Fang Ling, still upset from seeing Liang Youyi cry earlier, thought a good gallop might lift her spirits. She urged her, “Princess, race him!”

“Alright.”

Seeing her agree, Gu Ruoxu lit up with excitement. He turned to the young man beside him and asked, “Wangzhi, you in?”

“Sure.” The man’s brows lifted with a faint smile.

“Wangzhi, this is Princess Yunshang of the Duke Ding’s household.”
Gu Ruoxu introduced them casually. “Princess, this is the little prince of Prince Qi’s household. His guard here is Ziting. He’s returning to the capital today—I came to meet him.”

Prince Qi’s little prince? The only non-imperial prince in Chen, the sole heir of the Qi household, a sickly noble who’d been convalescing in Jiangnan? Hadn’t he been away from the capital for eight years?

Liang Youyi studied Feng Que. Something flickered in her mind—familiar, but elusive.

Feng Que was also watching her, his gaze bold. Princess Yunshang was exquisitely beautiful, like an ink painting touched by mist, but cold. Seeing her lost in thought, he cupped his hands with a casual flourish and a lazy smile: “A pleasure.”

Liang Youyi nodded slightly. He truly was the legendary beauty—but also wildly arrogant. Remembering the enmity between the Duke Ding and Prince Qi’s households, she quickly looked away, pulled up her hood, and spurred her horse forward.

“Hyah!”

Five riders shot out like arrows. Snow blanketed the road, and hoofprints etched poetry into the landscape. The ferry road led straight to the capital. They raced freely, soon overtaking the Prime Minister’s carriage.

Liang Youyi galloped past without a glance.

The group whooped with excitement, their horses thundering past like a storm. The Prime Minister’s horse reared in fright, hooves skittering. Fu Zhang lifted the curtain and saw a group of young nobles, dressed in finery, riding with abandon. A red cloak blazed like fire, a white steed gleamed like snow, and fluttering capes snapped like battle flags. His face fell.

The red cloak and white horse belonged to Liang Youyi. But who was the white-robed youth riding beside her? Did she bring him along? Why hadn’t he seen him at the ferry? Hadn’t he repeatedly warned her not to associate with other men? Was she rubbing his face in the dirt?

Yao Suyi couldn’t hide her jealousy. She dug her nails into her palm and sighed, “The princess is truly enviable—riding freely with men, bold and unrestrained. Unlike us women of the inner court, who only think of serving our husbands and raising children.”

Fu Zhang’s already sour mood flared into anger. “What’s there to envy? Such wild behavior is disgraceful… ah—!”

As Gu Ruoxu passed the carriage, he flicked a stone at the horse’s hoof without turning his head.

Liang Youyi did the same, tossing a pearl toward the horse’s foreleg.

Feng Que sneered. “What a dog of a man—badmouthing his fiancée behind her back!” He sent a palm strike toward the carriage, then spurred his horse with a laugh. “Hyah!”

“Ah—!” Several sharp screams echoed across the open fields. A few startled crows flapped away, cawing.

A gust of wind tore through the carriage, flinging the curtain open. Snow and dirt whipped inside, choking off Fu Zhang’s insults.

The horse stumbled, fell, and bolted in panic.

The world spun. Fu Zhang, Yao Suyi, Fu Sangyu, and the driver were all thrown from the carriage. It rolled off the road into a ditch, breaking apart. The horse, freed of its saddle, galloped away wildly.

Fu Zhang didn’t know what hit him. His body flew like an arrow and landed headfirst in a snowbank. The frozen ground was hard and cold. His face went numb, and something warm trickled down his scalp. He touched it—his hands were red. Blood. His leg throbbed with pain. He couldn’t move it. It was surely broken.

“Liang… You… Yi!”

…

Liang Youyi didn’t know Gu Ruoxu and Feng Que had also struck. She only heard the screams—and felt a rush of satisfaction.

Good riddance.

Gu Ruoxu was thrilled. “Wow, my stone-throwing skills have improved!”

Once inside the city, the group didn’t slow down until they reached Qinglong Street.

Gu Ruoxu’s eyes sparkled. “Princess Yunshang, how was that? Feel better?”

“Mm. Thank you, Second Brother Gu.”

“You should come out more often. Stop orbiting the Prime Minister—he’s always clutching prayer beads. Who knows what kind of scripture he’s reciting!”

“Pfft—” Liang Youyi didn’t respond, but Feng Que chuckled. He glanced at her—her pale skin like snow, her long lashes curved elegantly. A true beauty. He’d once pitied her for liking a hypocrite like Fu Zhang. But seeing her strike without hesitation, he realized the rumors were wrong.

Liang Youyi looked at Feng Que. He lived boldly, unrestrained, with none of the disgrace one might expect from a fallen noble.

People were different. Fu Zhang pretended to be noble, while Feng Que—ten years younger—radiated it effortlessly, even in his wildness.

After the long ride, Feng Que’s face paled further. Ziting said, “Your Highness, let’s return. The Consort Dowager is waiting.”

They waved goodbye.

Watching Liang Youyi leave, Gu Ruoxu said, “Princess Yunshang is actually great—nothing like the rest of the Duke’s household…”

Feng Que said nothing.

Gu Ruoxu, remembering the feud between their families, quickly changed the subject. “Your Highness, wine and beauties are ready. Shall we celebrate?”

Feng Que’s wrist was elegant as he held the reins. “Not interested.”

“Still not into beauties?”

“I don’t like men either.”

“Heh…” Before Gu Ruoxu could finish, Feng Que fell from his horse, coughing into a handkerchief, staining it with blood.