Chapter 20

Li Shan asked the question without thinking and only then sensed something off, a flicker of light passing through his eyes.

Yaoyao didn’t notice. She had bitten first and hadn’t meant to blame him. Her speech was soft and unhurried, slightly unclear: “You’re not hard. Not at all.”

Li Shan: “…”

For a moment, Yaoyao noticed something strange in his gaze—light and shadow shifting faintly, flickering unpredictably. It was as though he also felt the urge to bite back, just to get even.

Suddenly, Li Shan stood up, leaving behind a single remark: “Your maid’s here. Freshen up and come out.”

Only after he exited did Yaoyao hear Nanny Zheng’s hasty footsteps. She had just returned from the small kitchen and missed running into Li Shan at the door. Worried, she asked, “Is Young Madam all right?”

Yaoyao recalled how she had impulsively bitten him like a child, and immediately wanted to burrow under the covers. It was that fiery temper upon waking that got the better of her. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Nanny, I—I bit him.”

Nanny Zheng was startled, then quickly became concerned: “Is your mouth still sore?”

Yaoyao touched her lips. The spot that had been bumped wasn’t too painful anymore. She shook her head lightly. “It’s fine now.”

Nanny Zheng then remembered Li Shan’s departing silhouette and asked, “And… was the Marquis angry?”

Yaoyao hesitated. She wasn’t about to admit she was afraid he might bite back. So she said, “He told me to get ready and go out. Oh—what’s going on?”

Relieved, Nanny Zheng replied, “On my way here, I heard Deputy General Xin found a new horse. It seems the Marquis plans to teach you how to ride.”

Yaoyao now recalled Li Shan’s words half-caught in sleep, and her eyes brightened instantly. She no longer worried about whether he’d hold a grudge—after all, the biting was done. Whatever happens, she’d deal with it later.

At the time, most Hu women rode in trousers, often paired with riding outfits. While such garments hadn’t fully taken root in Da Qi, they were favored by noble ladies for archery, cuju, and convenience. Many kept several sets on hand.

Nanny Zheng gently pinned up Yaoyao’s hair and picked out a green riding outfit. A hand-wide waist sash hugged her slender frame. With her peach-pink cheeks, porcelain complexion, and eyes as bright as stars, she looked graceful and radiant.

Li Shan stood beneath the corridor, watching the golden sun slowly sink beneath the horizon. Yaoyao walked toward him, as light as the early evening stars weaving delicate ripples across the Milky Way. When she reached him, her gaze held a quiet smile. She said softly, “Husband…”

Li Shan pursed his lips, half amused, half indifferent: “You’re not sleepy anymore?”

Yaoyao blinked and explained, “I didn’t mean to be short with you earlier. It’s just… if I haven’t slept enough and there’s nothing urgent, waking me for no reason can stir up a temper I can’t quite control.”

She was laying down the rules—next time, if biting or flailing happens, it won’t be entirely her fault.

Li Shan caught the implication. With a steady voice, he replied, “You don’t need to remind me. Sleep all you want. Why would I wake you just to make trouble?”

Yaoyao felt relieved. After all, since their marriage, they’d never truly shared a bed—those incidents had only been momentary accidents.

As they spoke, they arrived at the post station stables. Xin Zhi was grooming a fine steed and greeted them with formal courtesy: “General, Young Madam.”

The horse stood tall, its coat a rich brown with a white patch on its forehead. Its clear eyes flicked curiously around, quietly observing its surroundings.

Yaoyao was naturally fond of horses and felt an immediate sense of kinship. But Li Shan wasn’t pleased. He glanced around and asked, “Where’s the pony?”

Xin Zhi replied, “It’s this one. A young yellow bay stallion, only just over three years old.”

Li Shan gave him a light kick. “You call this a pony?”

When Xin Zhi saw Yaoyao’s riding outfit, he suddenly realized his mistake. He had assumed it was Li Shan who would be riding. For a horse like this—tall and proud—if matched with a celebrated general, it might well become a famed steed. It could even be one of Li Shan’s backup mounts. After all, the plain-robed general’s horse, Feiyun, was already quite renowned.

So, Xin Zhi had picked a horse that was on the smaller side, but still quite big. Small for Li Shan, but not at all small for Yaoyao. Flushed with embarrassment, he quickly said, “General, I’ll go find another one right away. Though it’ll take until tomorrow.”

Li Shan replied, “No time for that.”

Yaoyao remembered Li Shan had said he was only free tonight. She didn’t want to miss the opportunity. After a moment of hesitation, she offered, “Then I’ll just learn with this one.”

Li Shan had first learned to ride during battle—when a cavalryman was shot and fell from his horse, he seized the steed to charge into the fray. That moment transformed him from a foot soldier to a cavalryman. To him, riding was no mystery. He’d wanted a small horse only because some people were too timid to mount a larger one.

Since Yaoyao wasn’t afraid, he paused in thought, then said, “Fine. Name it.”

She had already picked one in her heart: “Let’s call it Zhuri—Chasing the Sun.”

Its glossy coat reminded one of sunlight. Although the name didn’t mention color, it evoked a vivid brightness in one’s mind.

Li Shan said, “Think of another.”

Yaoyao: “Why?”

Li Shan: “Because that name’s too good—I want it.” He had a yellow bay horse back in Yanmen County, still waiting to be named.

Yaoyao: “…”

With her first name shamelessly claimed, she quickly came up with another: “Xianchun—Admiring Spring.”

And so the horse was named.

Behind the post station was a practice track, typically used for training the city’s garrison. Li Shan let Yaoyao bond with Xianchun briefly, then demonstrated how to mount. He cautioned her: “Horses are intuitive—don’t let it sense your fear, or it’ll run circles around you.”

Just imagining that made Yaoyao’s head go fuzzy. She nodded, took a quiet breath, and with the help of the stirrups, swung herself onto the saddle. Li Shan tugged the reins to keep Xianchun steady.

Seated atop the horse, Yaoyao lit up. “I made it up here!”

But her joy didn’t last. Her face turned pale. When she’d ridden Feiyun before, Li Shan had been in front of her, blocking most of the view. Now, with nothing in her sightline, the ground below seemed alarmingly distant.

Li Shan said, “Hold the reins properly.”

Yaoyao gripped them tightly, and Xianchun tossed its head. Li Shan remarked, “Too tight.”

Yaoyao instantly loosened her grip, nervously blurting out, “I—I’m scared…”

Li Shan replied, “Then get down.”

Yaoyao shook her head. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, but she was too afraid to dismount—she couldn’t even remember how she’d gotten up there. Sensing her fear, Xianchun stamped its hoof, prompting her to duck quickly.

Li Shan smacked the horse lightly and said, “I’m getting on.”

Yaoyao obediently scooted back. Then she heard him ask, “If you sit in the back, how will you learn to ride?”

Indeed—she froze. But she didn’t dare to move again. She looked at him helplessly, “What do I do…”

Li Shan said nothing. After measuring the space, he stepped onto the stirrup and mounted. Her delicate shoulder blades brushed against warmth—his chest. She quickly leaned forward, realizing he was behind her. His long arms reached around her, pulling the reins, enclosing her in the circle of his arms.

She didn’t need further instructions—her spine straightened instantly. Her fear of the horse dissipated, not just because Li Shan held it steady, but because she could feel the intensity of his gaze settle directly on her ear.

Her white jade-like earlobe was adorned with a tiny silver stud. A strand of hair had fallen over it, swaying gently with the horse’s movement, catching hints of moonlight as it shimmered.

After a while, Li Shan pressed his tongue briefly against the tip of his canine tooth, then withdrew his gaze. Eyes now fixed on the road ahead, he said lightly, “Don’t move around.”

Yaoyao: “…”