Everyone was closely watching the every move of the three young princes standing before the hall. Shen Xuefeng felt that uneasy sensation inside him growing stronger.

What he feared most now was that Ji Wu was going to be used as cannon fodder for Ji Changran.

In the original story, Ji Changran’s strength was very powerful, and Yin Lan was not far behind. But no one really knew what level Ji Wu was at right now.

“What does the Seventh Prince want to compete in?” Ji Changran asked.

Yin Lan made a gesture mimicking archery, but his gaze was fixed on Ji Wu. “Of course… your specialty, archery.”

The eunuchs brought out the bows and arrows, and set up four targets outside the hall at different distances.

Yin Lan suggested, “Since there are three of us competing, why not do a relay-style match? It tests strength, endurance, and accuracy. Do the two of you have no objections?”

Ji Changran had never done a relay competition before, but he practiced martial arts diligently every day, so he was not afraid. “Then we shall do as the Seventh Prince suggests.”

Yin Lan went first.

Though he looked like a baby-faced boy, he was incredibly strong. No matter how heavy the bow, he could hit the bullseye with a single arrow every time — four targets, four perfect shots.

Next was Ji Changran. His archery skills were always the best among the princes, so hitting all four targets was no problem.

A eunuch who had sprinted from afar entered the hall and reported their scores. Emperor Ganfeng’s expression relaxed, and the Empress said with satisfaction, “Changran has never neglected his archery over the years.”

Although no one mentioned Ji Wu aloud, all eyes couldn’t help but glance toward him as he nocked an arrow and aimed at the bullseye. It was as if their hearts were hanging on the tip of that arrow, holding their breath—

Ji Wu drew the bow slowly and calmly, shooting four arrows in a row. Though there were slight mistakes, none missed the target.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Phew, that’s good enough.

Yin Lan raised an eyebrow, seemingly unsatisfied with Ji Wu’s performance, but beside him, Ji Changran’s eyes flickered with surprise—this far exceeded his expectations.

After the second round of twelve arrows, still no one missed.

Third round, fourth round…

Yin Lan seemed tireless, as if he wanted to wear Ji Wu down, forcing him to fully reveal his true strength, and they kept competing with full intensity all the way to the twentieth round.

More than an hour had passed by this point; even the most lavish feast would have been finished.

Because Ji Changran had focused too much on precision in earlier rounds, he was slightly out of stamina. In this round, one arrow missed the target. He blamed himself deeply and returned inside the hall to apologize to Emperor Ganfeng.

But since all attention was on Ji Wu, no one blamed him. Emperor Ganfeng waved his hand with kindness: “Changran, don’t blame yourself. You have already done well to shoot eighty arrows.”

“…Yes, Father.”

Fine sweat beaded on Ji Changran’s handsome forehead. Sitting down, he picked up a teacup with his left hand and noticed it trembling slightly.

A nameless anger suddenly rose in his chest.

He pursed his lips, staring at Ji Wu standing straight outside the hall. When he glanced aside, he saw Shen Xuefeng’s worried gaze. Looking around the hall, the concubines, ministers, and envoys from various countries were all focused on this competition.

He really couldn’t bear the thought of losing to Ji Wu.

Ji Changran clenched the teacup tightly, telling himself that no matter who wins, as long as it brings victory to the Great Ji family, it was fine. Even if Ji Wu shone on this birthday celebration, it wouldn’t shake the court’s power one bit.

Outside the hall, Yin Lan was also starting to struggle. It was the noon hour, the sun blazing high. This delicate, pampered little prince couldn’t endure the scorching heat. But when he glanced over, Ji Wu was still calm and collected, shooting each arrow with perfect control—neither too precise nor missing the target.

What on earth was he made of? Not bothered by heat or sun, every shot was like a flawless replica.

After seven or eight more rounds, Yin Lan rushed into the hall shouting, “I won’t shoot anymore! I admit defeat!”

The court erupted in astonishment.

He actually lost!

Nearly two hours of competition, and the Third Prince won?

It seemed the rumors about Ji Wu being a useless waste were not entirely true. Nearly 120 arrows shot with almost perfect accuracy—his strength was clearly no joke!

The only pity was that his birth mother was just a foot-warmer maid. No matter how excellent he was, the ministers exchanged glances, their eyes sharp and calculating.

“The royal family indeed has talented individuals. We respect that very much,” Yin Lan, dizzy from the sun, admitted honestly, “I lost this competition. I hope Your Majesty will grant me a chance to enter the palace often to learn archery from the Third Prince.”

“That is natural,” Emperor Ganfeng happily regained his composure, “If Xuan Yan were not still stationed at the border, I would definitely have the Seventh Prince compete against him. Xuan Yan has always been the best at martial arts.”

Yin Lan looked back at Ji Wu and said, “I think the Third Prince is already very good. Your Majesty need not look elsewhere.”

“No need for the Seventh Prince to remind me,” Emperor Ganfeng said. “Send someone to move the Third Prince’s seat closer to me. I will reward him handsomely!”

Ji Wu lowered his eyes, concealing the flicker of sarcasm and disdain in them. When he looked up again, he merely curled his lips slightly and said, “…Thank you, Father.”

This was the first time he had uttered the two syllables “Father” aloud. For nearly fifteen years, the man on the throne had never spoken so many annoying and useless words to him as he did today.

Ji Wu touched the blade hidden in his sleeve, his fingertips brushing it lightly, while unknown malice churned deep in his heart.

The entire court of officials and nobles was thrilled. After all, the Third Prince was the least favored of all the emperor’s many children. If someone like him could defeat the little prince of Nanzhao, didn’t that mean the other princes and princesses were at least as strong as Yin Lan?

They seemed to have completely forgotten Ji Changran’s failure.

The emperor’s face brightened greatly. He ordered the Ministry of Rites to arrange another evening banquet, inviting envoys from all nations to rest in the palace, and keeping officials of the second rank and above.

That night, Ji Wu still sat by the emperor’s side. After several rounds of drinking, Emperor Ganfeng was quite merry and finally dismissed everyone.

When Ji Wu stepped out of the Taihe Hall, sparse stars and a bright moon hung in the sky, with a gentle, warm breeze.

Ji Wu had just taken a small path to the side when he ran into voices coming from under the corridor ahead, growing louder as he approached.

“Minister of the Secretariat, I really, really admire you… Could you please give me your autograph?”

It was Shen Xuefeng’s voice.

Hearing this, Ji Wu paused slightly. Looking over, he saw the small figure standing beside Bai Hua, who was holding brush, ink, and paper respectfully and handing them to Jiang Suliu.

The latter chuckled lightly, “An autograph? Little Master Shen wants me to leave my name on the paper?”

“Mm-hmm!”

Ji Wu narrowed his eyes.

Even without seeing the expression, he could imagine Shen Xuefeng’s smile: his almond-shaped eyes curved up, bright and sparkling as he looked at someone, with faint dimples showing on his cheeks.

Did he smile like that at everyone?

Did he speak so closely and kindly to everyone…?

To Jiang Suliu, to Ji Changran, and also to him.

Ji Wu’s five fingers clenched tightly inside his sleeve, his gaze fixed firmly on the boy’s back, utterly unaware of the strong surprise shining in his own eyes.