Chapter Thirty: Are You Targeting Me?

It turned out that Xue Qiu intended to test Xue Jingren’s martial skills. Minglan, fond of martial arts herself, insisted on sparring with Xue Jingren, only to be swiftly defeated and left lying on the ground. Feeling humiliated, Minglan hoped to regain her dignity with Xiao Yi, but to her surprise, he was even less sympathetic, knocking her down without hesitation—the very scene Xue Fanzhi had witnessed.

Still unreconciled, Minglan refused to admit defeat. She called out to Xiao Yi and Xue Jingren, “Come here, both of you! I want to spar with Eighth Lady!”

Xue Jingren rushed out from the tea pavilion, protesting, “No, Eighth Lady doesn’t know martial arts!”

Minglan’s eyes crinkled with laughter. “Come on, I didn’t know it as a child either, but I learned eventually!”

Xue Fanzhi dared not accept the challenge, her hands held out awkwardly like a clumsy carpenter’s dog, but Minglan wouldn’t let her off so easily. Suddenly, Xue Fanzhi felt a shadow fall before her; two large hands pressed down on her shoulders. She looked up and saw Xiao Yi, his lips curved in a smile, gazing at her beneath the warm and brilliant southern sunlight. That smile was radiant and unrestrained, dazzling as the sun itself.

Xue Fanzhi blushed deeply, flustered and shy, her heart pounding like a frightened rabbit. She wondered, Xiao Yi is so bold—touching her in front of so many people. What was he thinking? Her brother was still here; wasn’t this improper?

Before she could voice her protest, her balance suddenly shifted—her head spun, her feet light, and then a sharp pain in her backside as she found herself sprawled on the ground.

Xue Fanzhi: “……”

Xiao Yi had tripped her, taking advantage of her distraction to throw her down as if they were wrestling.

Was he mad? The bashfulness and tension in Xue Fanzhi’s heart vanished, replaced by incredulity as she stared at Xiao Yi.

Xue Jingren jumped in alarm and hurried to help Xue Fanzhi up, then looked at Xiao Yi and demanded, “Your Highness, why did you trip Eighth Lady?”

Minglan, too, stared at Xiao Yi in confusion.

Xiao Yi, catching the scent of the ointment he had gifted Xue Fanzhi, simply smiled and looked down at her. “Isn’t this easier than fighting?”

After a moment, Minglan burst into laughter. “Exactly! Why not just admit defeat?”

Xue Fanzhi: “……”

Xue Jingren: “……”

When Xue Fanzhi got to her feet, she regarded Xiao Yi with speechless exasperation, but he seemed unconcerned. Out of sight of the others, he rolled his eyes; then, with a cool, indifferent air, he ignored her entirely, behaving as though the one who tripped her hadn’t been him, as if she were air, as if she had been the one to provoke him.

It was infuriating.

Xue Fanzhi couldn’t tell if it was her imagination, but she always felt Xiao Yi harbored some resentment toward her.

But really, he had indulged Wenxian in killing her, owed her a life—how could he possibly have the gall to be resentful? And why?

“Your Highness!” Xue Fanzhi brushed off her clothes and couldn’t help but call out, “Have I somehow offended you? Why do you always trip me? This is already the second time!”

The second time?

Xue Jingren and Minglan both looked to Xiao Yi. If this time was just a jest, what happened the first time?

After all, propriety forbade such contact between men and women; why did he always trip her?

Inwardly, Xiao Yi cursed his foolish wife a thousand times over for forcing him into such embarrassment before everyone.

He forced a smile. “No, I haven’t targeted Eighth Lady. Perhaps there’s some misunderstanding?”

Xue Fanzhi insisted, “No, Your Highness seems to dislike me!”

Xiao Yi grew annoyed. “If I disliked you, why did I save you?”

Minglan vouched for him, “Ninth Brother absolutely doesn’t dislike you—maybe he likes you! Otherwise, why would he ask for my help? I was startled at the time, thinking it was some extraordinary young lady, but it turned out to be a little powder-puff child. Isn’t Xiao Yi’s taste peculiar?”

Minglan’s bluntness cast a sudden hush over the surroundings. Xiao Yi refused to admit it, his smile awkward. “Minglan, don’t talk nonsense. I most certainly do not.”

Minglan retorted, “If not, why did you change how you refer to yourself?”

Xiao Yi: “……”

Annoyed, Xiao Yi pulled Minglan behind him, then ignored Xue Fanzhi and looked at Xue Jingren, whose questioning gaze matched Minglan’s. “Brother Jingren, I truly haven’t targeted or coveted your sister. The first time I tripped her was entirely accidental. I hadn’t expected someone so petite to have such strength—she toppled herself!”

Who toppled themselves?

“Clearly it was—”

Xiao Yi quickly clamped a large hand over Xue Fanzhi’s mouth.

The gesture was abrupt, reckless. Xue Fanzhi blushed scarlet, flustered and at a loss.

Xue Jingren was stunned, while Minglan’s lips twitched. “Ninth Brother!”

Xiao Yi snapped out of it, blaming the little apple for everything.

He hurriedly withdrew his hand and smiled, “Let’s not dwell on these trivial matters. Why hasn’t Old General returned yet?”

The warmth in Xue Fanzhi’s heart suddenly chilled. Was she really so trivial?

Xiao Yi changed the subject, and Xue Jingren was reluctant to press further. He glanced at Xiao Yi, then at his nearly grown sister, sighing inwardly—a pity, for the Ninth Prince was far superior to the foppish Qin Jianyu.

Yet, he was a prince, and they could never aspire so high.

Xue Fanzhi, disheartened, wished to leave but could not, so she said nothing more, her spirits waning.

The air grew awkward, but fortunately the tea room was just behind the weapons rack on the training yard. The second uncle’s young servant had already prepared the tea powder, and the kettle on the red clay stove was boiling.

He called everyone over for tea, and Xue Fanzhi strode over.

Minglan and Xiao Yi followed leisurely, with her brother accompanying them. At first, they discussed matters like the placement of nomadic troops, but then, out of Xue Jingren’s sight, Xiao Yi signaled Minglan, who immediately caught up with Xue Fanzhi and called out, “Eighth Lady, when will your fiancé’s family arrive?”

Xue Fanzhi remembered the date clearly. Qin Jianyu had arrived on her third day here, but she had been confined then, and only saw him a month later—at her coming-of-age banquet.

“The day after tomorrow, most likely!” Xue Fanzhi replied, though even she felt uncertain, and glanced at Xiao Yi as she spoke.

Minglan promptly turned to Xiao Yi. “We should head back soon!”

One was a prince, the other a princess—their destination was the palace, of course.

Xue Fanzhi looked back at Xiao Yi, unable to help herself. Was he leaving? Indeed, he was not their son-in-law, and naturally would depart after the meal.

But Xiao Yi said, “I’ll return tomorrow to report, but the day after I’ll come back and stay for some time.”

Minglan’s eyes filled with surprise. “You’re coming back to stay?” Her tone was incredulous—a prince’s residence was in Jiankang, Xiao Yi had his own home, and it was nearby.

Xue Jingren too was puzzled, though as host he couldn’t ask directly lest it seem like he was urging them away. In truth, he was merely curious.

Xue Fanzhi’s heart raced again; she glanced at Xiao Yi, searching his calm, impassive face for some clue.