“Wait,” Song Qingqian called out.
Xiao Beitang turned back lazily, wearing a look of feigned ignorance. “Hmm?”
“Your Highness, if I win, you must agree to the three-year pact. How about it?”
Xiao Beitang leaned forward on her horse again, looking down at her with a scoff. “Song Qingqian, aren’t you being a bit overconfident?”
“Your Highness need only say if you accept the wager.”
“And if you lose?”
“If I lose, I shall be at Your Highness’s beck and call from this day forward.”
“You said it yourself.”
“Then Your Highness agrees?”
Xiao Beitang replied with lofty pride, “If I didn’t, it would look as though I was afraid of you!”
“Then allow me a moment to change.”
Xiao Beitang’s lips curled into a smirk as she led her horse back to the center of the field.
When Song Qingqian entered the field in her athletic attire, she walked straight toward the Princess. Xiao Beitang was leaning against a post, arms crossed in a leisurely fashion. She gestured with her chin toward a pure white horse nearby. “That is my other favorite steed, named Taxue (Snow-Treader). You use her. I wouldn’t want you complaining that the horse was the reason you lost.”
Without waiting for a response, Xiao Beitang mounted her own horse. Song Qingqian stepped forward with a faint smile and stroked the mare’s mane. Taxue nudged her palm affectionately.
Xiao Beitang trotted back over, looking smug. “It seems she likes you. Taxue is a prized steed worth ten thousand gold; consider yourself lucky today.”
“Then my thanks to Your Highness.” Song Qingqian patted the horse and swung into the saddle. The movement was so crisp and practiced that even Xiao Beitang was momentarily stunned.
“Hyah!” Song Qingqian urged the horse forward, and Xiao Beitang followed suit.
The Crown Princess and her Consort competing on opposite teams was a rare spectacle. The sidelines erupted in a roar of excitement; even the stoic guards couldn’t help but lean forward.
“Your Highness, should we go easy on the Crown Princess Consort?” Xiao Lin asked cheekily.
“No,” Xiao Beitang answered firmly, her eyes burning like torches as she watched Song Qingqian.
Across the field, Song Qingqian was discussing tactics with Zhang Dingyuan. The two were laughing and talking, appearing exceptionally close.
The gong sounded, and both sides galloped forward in a fierce scramble. Song Qingqian didn’t dive into the initial fray; instead, she moved with the pack, staying on the periphery and waiting for her opening. When Zhang Dingyuan secured the ball, he sent a long pass her way. Unmarked, Song Qingqian received it and sent it through the goal with pinpoint precision.
“Woo-hoo!” Zhang Dingyuan cheered wildly.
Xiao Beitang’s face darkened as she turned her horse away. Xiao Wanqi glanced at her but didn’t dare speak.
“Block them with everything you’ve got. Don’t let them get the ball,” Xiao Beitang ordered sharply.
Despite their efforts, Zhang Dingyuan and Song Qingqian’s coordination was seamless. Song Qingqian scored again. Xiao Beitang fought back, scoring a goal of her own to narrow the gap. The score remained neck-and-neck as the clock ticked down.
As the match neared its end, the tension peaked. Song Qingqian, usually reserved, began to dive into the scuffles. Zhang Dingyuan passed to her again, but Xiao Lin reached her first, swinging her mallet toward the ball. Song Qingqian sensed the threat, sharply veering her horse and swinging with all her might.
But in doing so, she left herself exposed. Xiao Lin’s mallet was already in mid-swing, heading straight for her.
The sharp crack of mallets colliding rang out. Song Qingqian turned to see Xiao Lin’s mallet flying through the air. Xiao Lin clutched her wrist, her face twisted in pain. Beside her stood Xiao Beitang, looking shaken. She had lunged forward the moment Xiao Lin raised her mallet, blocking the strike just before it could hit Song Qingqian.
While everyone was frozen in the shock of the moment, Zhang Dingyuan seized the opportunity. He broke through the line and scored the final goal.
The gong sounded. Song Qingqian had won.
“Long live the Crown Princess Consort!” Zhang Dingyuan and his teammates cheered.
Song Qingqian let out a long, relieved breath, her face breaking into a radiant smile. But when she turned to find Xiao Beitang, she only saw a cold, retreating silhouette.
Xiao Beitang didn’t wait for her. She changed and vanished without a trace. Song Qingqian wasn’t in a hurry to chase her; she knew Wu Sanqi was following in the shadows.
It was nearly dark when the Princess returned, reeking of alcohol.
“Oh, Your Highness! You’re finally back!” Liu Zi called out loudly, casting a glance toward the West Wing to alert Song Qingqian before rushing to meet his master.
Hearing the commotion, Song Qingqian stepped to her door. She watched as Xiao Beitang stumbled into the main hall, leaning heavily against a pillar.
“Get away!” Xiao Beitang barked, shoving Liu Zi aside. “I can walk on my own.”
Liu Zi ignored her, struggling to hold her up until Xing’er rushed over to help. Together, they hoisted the Princess toward her room.
Song Qingqian’s expression turned cold. “Go inside,” she whispered to herself. She stepped back into her room and ordered the door closed.
Seeing the West Wing door shut, Xiao Beitang felt a surge of drunken anger. “Close the door!” she roared as she was hauled into her chambers.
The next morning, Song Qingqian led her attendants into the bedroom as usual. She ordered the windows opened. As the light flooded in, Xiao Beitang’s eyes twitched.
Song Qingqian didn’t say a word; she simply stood there, watching her.
This time, Xiao Beitang didn’t play the rogue. She sat up and shook her head, wincing; the wine from the night before had been too strong, and her head was throbbing. Without looking at Song Qingqian, she stood up and began to wash and dress of her own accord.
Song Qingqian was taken aback by this sudden compliance and the chilling distance that came with it. Assuming the Princess was merely sulking over losing the match, she decided not to press the issue.
“I trust Your Highness is a person of your word,” Song Qingqian said evenly. “Since you lost yesterday, the three-year pact officially begins today.”
“Mm,” Xiao Beitang replied tonelessly.
“I have drawn up a schedule for you. Once studies begin, Your Highness must follow it strictly.” Song Qingqian held out a sheet of paper.
Xiao Beitang took it, glanced at it without any expression, and handed it back. “Since I lost, I will keep my word,” she said coldly. “Do as you wish.”
Song Qingqian had expected a fight, or at least some complaining about the rigorous schedule. This sudden indifference was unsettling.
“Then please, Your Highness, come with me to pay our respects.”
Xiao Beitang walked out without a word, and Song Qingqian followed. She could feel that something was deeply wrong with the Princess, but she chose not to ask. She’s always been like this, she told herself, mercurial and moody.