Qian Jiaoniang grew more enthusiastic with riding and didn’t even notice as the sun began to set. Suddenly, Xing Muzheng came up, placed a hand on the saddle, pushed off the ground, and leapt gracefully onto the horse, landing behind her and enveloping her in his arms. Qian Jiaoniang’s body stiffened at once. “You—”
“It’s getting late. You can continue learning tomorrow. We need to reach the inn before nightfall,” Xing Muzheng said. There was only one inn within dozens of miles. Based on the speed of the caravan, they should be there by now, and the two of them needed to arrive before dark as well.
With that, Xing Muzheng nudged the horse’s belly and cracked the whip. Lightning had been walking slowly all afternoon and was ready to let loose. It neighed loudly, stretched out its long legs, and galloped at full speed. Dust kicked up all over the road. Caught off guard, Qian Jiaoniang fell backward into Xing Muzheng’s chest. She immediately straightened up, but the saddle was narrow—Xing Muzheng’s legs pressed against hers, his chest against her back, even their arms touched.
Qian Jiaoniang tried to withdraw her hands, but his large hand clamped tightly over hers. “Don’t move. Learn how to hold the reins. You must grip them at all times, or you’ll fall.”
Qian Jiaoniang didn’t respond, just yanked hard. Xing Muzheng held fast, refusing to let go. Qian Jiaoniang grew angry. “I don’t want to learn.”
“You must learn,” Xing Muzheng said firmly, his head lowered, lips brushing past her ear.
She didn’t turn around, but her whole body went stiff, like a temple statue. The warm breath on her ear flushed them bright red. Xing Muzheng whipped the horse again, and Lightning ran even faster. He held her hands tightly and refused to release them. Hidden from her sight, the corners of his lips lifted into a smile.
Laifu Inn was a small roadside inn, mostly serving passing merchants and postal couriers. The innkeeper most feared those martial types who came armed with swords—always drawing blades at the slightest conflict, sometimes leaving the place soaked in blood. Though they often paid for damages, it was still a hassle. The innkeeper had even thought about putting up a sign reading “No Heroes or Heroines Allowed”, but didn’t have the guts to follow through.
He much preferred the occasional wealthy travelers—more rules, yes, but less trouble and much more generous with money. Today a group of carriages had arrived, over a dozen people in total, filling up the entire inn. The innkeeper was grinning ear to ear as he counted his coins.
A stable hand was feeding horses near the tethering post when he saw a man and a woman riding toward the inn at high speed. Both wore plain clothes, so he smiled apologetically and said, “Sorry, guests—the inn’s full!”
“Out of the way, you blind fool,” Ah Da said roughly, leading a horse that had just been unharnessed. He threw the reins to the stable hand and shooed him off. Turning to the approaching pair, he smiled brightly. “Master, Madam, you’ve finally arrived.”
The stable hand realized these were the VIPs who had reserved the entire inn. Shrinking back his head, he quickly led the horse aside.
Xing Muzheng dismounted first and reached up to help Qian Jiaoniang down. She ignored him and tried to descend using the stirrup, but after a day of riding, her legs had gone soft. She nearly toppled over—again—only to be caught from behind and gently lowered to the ground by a pair of iron arms.
Qian Jiaoniang swore she heard a stifled laugh. She clung to the saddle, refusing to turn around.
Ah Da saw the dust and dirt covering both of their clothes—like they’d rolled on the ground—and couldn’t help asking, “Master, did something happen on the way?”
“No,” Xing Muzheng replied.
Qian Jiaoniang steadied herself and turned to leave. Xing Muzheng caught her arm. “Stop.”
She took a deep breath, turned back, and forced a smile. “Does the Marquis have further instructions?”
Xing Muzheng looked at her. “Lightning carried you the whole way. Shouldn’t you at least feed him something?”
Did he forget that he was the one who threw her onto the horse? Qian Jiaoniang ground her teeth. Ah Da, sharp as ever, rushed over with two carrots grabbed from the stable boy. “Madam, horses love carrots! Lightning especially does!”
Qian Jiaoniang accepted them and glanced at the big black horse, who was staring intently at the carrots in her hand, its large, shiny eyes unblinking.
“Hold the carrot near its mouth,” Xing Muzheng instructed.
Qian Jiaoniang pursed her lips and held the tip of a carrot near Lightning’s mouth. She didn’t look the least bit flustered. In no time at all, the horse had eaten nearly the whole carrot. She placed the rest in her palm, and Lightning slurped it up with his tongue.
“…” Xing Muzheng, who had been rather pleased a moment ago, watched silently as Qian Jiaoniang expertly fed the horse and then even grabbed some hay to stuff into its mouth. He said nothing for a while.
Ah Da asked, “Madam, have you ridden a horse before?”
Qian Jiaoniang replied, “I don’t know how to ride. I only know how to feed them.”
Xing Muzheng’s expression changed—her meaning was…
“Mother! Mother—look at me!” Xing Pingchun’s loud voice cut in, drawing everyone’s attention. Qian Jiaoniang turned to see her foolish son running toward her with a thin bamboo pole, a carrot tied to the end. Tian Yongzhang and Wang Yong followed behind.
Xing Pingchun beamed as he ran up. Seeing Xing Muzheng nearby, he quickly reined himself in and respectfully called, “Father.” Xing Muzheng gave a brief reply. Then Pingchun turned excitedly to Qian Jiaoniang. “Mother, I have to tell you something! Ant loves carrots! I just fed him one, and he blinked and ate it right up! Then he neighed at me like he wanted more! He’s such a greedy little horse! So I had an idea—I’ll tie a carrot to this bamboo stick and dangle it in front of him. Tomorrow I’ll strap it to his saddle. When he sees the carrot hanging right in front of him, won’t he just take off running after it?”
Xing Pingchun planted his hands on his hips, full of pride. “Mother, am I smart or what!”
Ah Da stifled a laugh behind his hand. Xing Muzheng looked on helplessly—this youngest son of his was nothing like him in his youth. Clearly, he took after Jiaoniang. But strangely, this realization only made him find the boy’s silliness endearing.
Qian Jiaoniang nodded solemnly. “Who says you’re not? You love chicken drumsticks, right? Tomorrow I’ll tie one to a bamboo stick and dangle it in front of you so you can practice calligraphy while trying to grab your chicken leg!”
Xing Pingchun froze for a moment, then burst into laughter. He shook the bamboo stick enthusiastically. “Mother, you said it! You can’t lie to me—we’ve got a deal!”
Qian Jiaoniang laughed along heartily. “I never lie to you! It’s a deal!”
The mother and son laughed themselves silly. Tian Yongzhang, watching them, was completely baffled and had no idea what was so funny. Xing Muzheng, though equally in the dark about what exactly amused the two of them, couldn’t help feeling a kind of joy just from watching their laughter.
But the moment Qian Jiaoniang met Xing Muzheng’s gaze, her smile abruptly faded, and all laughter vanished from her eyes. It was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over Xing Muzheng’s head, extinguishing the warmth in his heart.
She truly treated him like a venomous snake or a wild beast. Xing Muzheng ground his teeth. He wanted to shake some sense into her—no matter how much she despised him, she was still his wife.
