This area was flat and open—no place to hide.

Ning Fu could only watch as Zong Si’s gaze fell directly on her. Resigned, she closed her eyes. The cold wind rustled around her, but it didn’t compare to the chill settling in her heart.

It all depended now on whether Zong Si would choose to pursue the matter. If he did, things would be simple for Prince Xuan’s household. He had already guessed her involvement in the dancer affair. A few strategically dropped hints would be enough to push her into the scandal’s spotlight. Then, with a red bridal sedan, she’d be brought in quietly through the side gate—as a concubine. Installed in a remote courtyard and kept out of sight, out of mind.

His future marriage or political career wouldn’t be affected. But Ning Fu’s life would be ruined. Brought in this way, she wouldn’t even have the standing of a recognized mistress.

Her brother’s matter? She’d no longer have the reach or influence to help.

As she sorted through the implications, she recalled that Zong Si had already dressed by the time the sound of hooves gave her away. Other than insisting she’d just arrived, she had no defenses left.

“Didn’t expect to run into the Heir first thing. Out for morning training?” Ning Fu opened her eyes and, steadying herself, greeted him with a smile.

Though she smiled brightly, Zong Si saw through it—the trembling lashes, the faint pallor—signs of a shaken heart. She even feigned delicate helplessness to curry favor.

One glance, and he saw it all clearly. Fourth Miss Ning was prone to casting allure, careless about propriety between men and women.

Zong Si couldn’t help but feel sorry for her future husband. If she were so fond of flirting, she’d surely earn him a green hat one day. Still, he had no desire to marry her—nor to destroy her. So he chose not to confront the matter, merely nodded distantly and mounted his horse.

Seeing that he wasn’t going to pursue it, Ning Fu exhaled with relief. She softened her tone and offered, “There was frost this morning—the roads are slick. Take care while riding, Heir.”

A beauty’s gentle concern could feel like spring sunlight, but when it came with hidden motives, it lost its charm.

Zong Si gave her a sidelong glance and suddenly said, “The maid who delivered Miss Wei’s message has already explained what happened.”

Ning Fu’s complexion turned pale. She’d suspected he knew about the dancer incident—but hadn’t imagined he had evidence.

“What would the Heir like to do?” she steadied herself and asked.

Seated on horseback, he looked down, unmoved by her anxiety. “So long as Fourth Miss Ning remains well-behaved, no one will hear of the dance.”

Ning Fu understood perfectly what “well-behaved” meant—it would be his term from now on. With leverage in his hands, she’d have no choice but to obey. But in this situation, he had the upper hand. She had to bow her head first. “Understood. Thank you for the warning, Heir.”

Zong Si saw her hand clench tightly at her side—so she wasn’t quite resigned, then.

“Many men pass through here in the morning. If you don’t want trouble for the Duke’s household, take a different path.” His final words came as he rode away.

—

Back at the tent, Wei Ziyi noticed Ning Fu was silent and wilted. “You left smiling—why do you look so drained now?”

“Sister Wei… you nearly got me killed,” Ning Fu said with a bitter smile.

After hearing everything, Wei Ziyi’s face changed. Guilt flooded in. “It must’ve been my carelessness… I was flustered and probably let something slip in front of the maid. I’ll go explain to the Heir.”

Ning Fu stopped her with a sigh. “And offer him another excuse to say the Wei family is incompetent? They’re not even in the same faction as Prince Xuan’s house.”

Wei Ziyi froze, realizing the weight of her blunder. “I was foolish…”

“Sister Wei, I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty—I just hope next time, you’ll think twice,” Ning Fu said gently, holding her hand.

One day, Wei Ziyi would marry Ning Yu—and the household would surely have its share of messes with concubines and petty schemes. Ning Fu didn’t want her to suffer again like she had in her past life. The Duke’s family needed a capable matriarch.

“But what about you?” Wei Ziyi asked worriedly.

“For now, the Heir won’t act against me. I’ll take it one step at a time,” Ning Fu replied, steadying herself.

By next year, Zong Si would head into battle—then she’d have something to negotiate with. Until then, she was bound by his hand.

Ning Fu skipped the final round of autumn hunting, opting instead to learn archery from Lu Xingzhi. Thanks to her experience from a previous life, she quickly advanced—from practicing on targets to hunting rabbits, and then even birds—all within a matter of days. But only she knew the toll it took. Every night, she spent an hour massaging her wrists just to ease the soreness.

Whenever Lu Xingzhi was present, she refrained from hunting, not wanting to tarnish her image as a gentle and kind noblewoman. During a break, she asked, “Why didn’t you go hunting with the others, Young Master Lu? It’s a prime chance to impress Emperor Jingwen.”

Lu Xingzhi responded calmly, “Didn’t Fourth Miss also stay behind?”

She had, though mostly to avoid Zong Si. “Your archery is top-tier. You’d have undoubtedly stood out.”

After a quiet pause, he asked in a low voice, “You’ve been avoiding me during riding practice these past few days. Do you not wish to spend time with me, Fourth Miss?”

Her ears burned—his gentle complaint sounded like that of a neglected husband.

“I don’t dislike spending time with you,” she said softly, unwilling to hurt him. Truth was, she had been deliberately limiting their encounters—not because she didn’t want to see him, but to avoid gossip from too many meetings.

When she looked up again, she saw a trace of amusement in his gaze.

Lu Xingzhi’s smile was rare and radiant, like a cool yet lustrous piece of jade—beautiful precisely because it was seldom shown.

Ning Fu stared in a daze, nearly swept away by his charm. No wonder some would spend fortunes just for a beauty’s smile. Then she scolded herself for being shallow. Choosing a husband was one thing—being seduced was another.

“Your archery has improved greatly. You’ll do well in the marksmanship assessment a month from now,” Lu Xingzhi said.

After a moment, Ning Fu remarked, “Your archery style is somewhat like the Heir’s.”

Lu Xingzhi paused, then said, “We studied under the same master—Sir Guanyang.”

She had, of course, heard of Sir Guanyang’s reputation. “I’ve long admired him. If there’s ever a chance, I’d love to visit and pay my respects.”

“If the opportunity arises, I’ll take you,” Lu Xingzhi said with a look in his eye.

The words felt intimate—Ning Fu couldn’t respond directly. She was willing to spend time with him, but hadn’t decided on her future husband. Lu Xingzhi’s conduct had been admirable, and in many ways, she was satisfied. But to truly understand a man took more than just a few short days. She didn’t mind if her family’s standing drove his interest—but she had to guard against him using it for personal gain.

“It’s getting late—I should head back,” Ning Fu said, massaging her aching arms as she shifted the topic.

“Alright.” Lu Xingzhi turned to gather her quiver for her. Such quiet attentiveness earned him another point in her mind.

The two did not return together.

As Ning Fu walked back to camp, the hunting party was just returning in grand procession. She happened to cross paths with Emperor Jingwen himself, and immediately knelt to offer a formal greeting. “Peace and blessings, Your Majesty.”

The emperor looked upon the unfamiliar young lady before him—her beauty like blossoming willows, striking and elegant. But he wasn’t the only one taken aback. The Sixth Prince, Meng Ze, also fixed his gaze on her.

“I am Ning Fu, daughter of Ning Yuanzhen of the Duke Ning household,” she said, bowing her head respectfully.

“So, you are Lord Ning’s daughter!” Emperor Jingwen chuckled heartily. “Your maternal grandmother, Princess Kangyang, I must call her ‘aunt’—in that case, you may call me ‘uncle.'”

“Uncle,” Ning Fu said sweetly.

In truth, calling him “uncle” was a stretch. Her maternal grandmother, Princess Kangyang, was the late emperor’s elder half-sister, with no blood relation to the current emperor. She hadn’t even supported him during the bitter succession struggle. That same power-hungry grandmother had requested a post away from court—most likely to avoid imperial retribution.

“Why didn’t you join the hunt?” the emperor asked kindly.

Ning Fu replied, “With the marksmanship assessment coming up in just over a month, I stayed behind to focus on my archery.”

“Who’s been teaching you?” the emperor asked.

“My brother learned that Second Young Master Lu studied under Master Guanyang. He helped me ask Second Young Master Lu to teach me,” she answered with careful tact.

“Since Xingzhi trained under Master Guanyang, I imagine your horseback archery must be solid. The princess has been clamoring for a sparring partner. Ah Ning is injured, Ruyi stayed behind to care for her, and the other noble ladies have declined. Why don’t you join her?” the emperor said, stroking his beard with a smile.

Ning Yu’s face shifted subtly. Even the Sixth Prince furrowed his brow.

Zong Si looked on with a cool, detached air, as if watching a play unfold.

Ning Fu’s wrist throbbed. She was just about to refuse when she met Ning Yu’s weighted gaze—and a chill raced down her spine. She glanced back at the emperor. Despite his smiling face, a trace of irritation already glinted in his eyes.

Thinking back to the days after the autumn hunt, Ning Fu recalled how the emperor had flown into a rage. Soon after, the Ministry of Rites issued new examination policies for noblewomen, placing greater emphasis on riding and archery. Those were her weakest areas. And thanks to those revisions, her results had worsened.

Why the sudden emphasis on mounted archery? She suspected it was tied to the current situation.

The northern princess’s proposed sparring match was meant as sport—but with none of the Yan ladies stepping forward, it could be construed as cowardice, casting the nation in a weak light. No wonder Emperor Jingwen was furious.

She understood why the noblewomen declined—the northern princess was a fierce horse archer, while Yan’s ladies were trained in grace and refinement. No one wanted to lose face before the young gentlemen.

But the emperor, though seemingly kind, was no gentle soul. Back in the day, his path to power had left corpses strewn across the palace, rivers of blood spilled. And that was only two decades ago. He was already teetering on the edge of eruption. She couldn’t afford to refuse—otherwise the Duke’s house might suffer his wrath.

“Uncle, I’ve heard the princess excels at mounted archery. I’d be delighted to spar with her,” Ning Fu replied with a radiant smile.