MFMH C111

Chapter 111 — Extra

The autumn air was clear and brisk, and the mountains glowed golden.

It was late autumn, when the wild creatures of the mountains had grown fat and plump, the perfect season for the autumn hunt.

A stern-browed young man rode atop a stallion of pure black, its limbs powerful, its body robust, and a flame-red crest of mane crowning its head. The youth wore a dark, close-fitting riding outfit, his black hair bound with a jade coronet, his posture straight and noble, exuding a chilling majesty. Beside him sat a round-bodied boy astride a docile chestnut mare with short legs, his cheeks flushed red, a quiver strapped to his back, a bow in hand, brimming with excitement.

One tall, one short; one lean, one plump — they were Zhao Youheng and Su Qingze.

The youth had changed little in two years, save that his aura had grown sharper, more unfathomable. The boy, however, had grown taller; though still round and soft, his features had begun to open up, shedding childishness, and he now brimmed with the vitality of adolescence.

Su Qingze’s dark, bright eyes were filled with joy. Spotting a hazel grouse perched on a branch opposite, he hurriedly drew an arrow from his quiver.

He took aim, pulled back the string, and let fly, watching in anticipation. He had thought to take the first prize, but the arrow plunged halfway into a pile of fallen leaves.

“Ah!” Su Qingze cried in regret.

Even before his voice faded, another arrow whistled forth with lethal force, striking the grouse like lightning. With a frantic squawk, it fluttered its wings and fell from the branch.

Su Qingze turned quickly. Zhao Youheng stood tall with bow still raised, the force of his presence lingering. His dark, fathomless eyes glinted with cold sharpness, making his striking face all the more severe and beautiful.

“Ah Heng, you’re amazing!” Su Qingze said in awe, admiration written across his face. In the past two years, his health had improved greatly, so his family finally permitted him more vigorous activity. Thus he had learned horsemanship and archery — but only at the level of dabbling, not mastery.

Zhao Youheng glanced at him, his voice warm: “Your stance is wrong, and you didn’t use your strength correctly.” With that, he dismounted and walked to Su Qingze’s side, extending his hand. “Come down, I’ll teach you.”

Naturally, Su Qingze placed his plump hand in his, clumsy in strength and motion as he dismounted.

From behind, Zhao Youheng half-encircled him, guiding his hands in archery: “Mind your stance. Feet shoulder-width apart, weight evenly distributed, body leaning slightly forward…”

The warmth of the youth’s breath tickled his ear; those long fingers clasped his soft hands, the contact burning. Su Qingze blinked, feeling his ears grow hot.

“Focus,” Zhao Youheng reminded him, drawing the bow with his hand over his.

Su Qingze hastily gathered his mind, fixing his eyes ahead.

With a hum, the arrow shot forth, striking a bright red wild fruit on the tree.

Su Qingze’s eyes lit up.

“Again,” Zhao Youheng said softly, releasing another arrow with him, hitting the mark once more.

“Let me try on my own!” Su Qingze said, eager.

Obediently, Zhao Youheng let go. Su Qingze straightened, inhaled deeply, raised the bow, nocked the arrow, his posture near perfect.

He drew the bow to its limit, released—

His eyes followed the arrow’s flight, gleaming with expectation.

Zhao Youheng looked down at him, his gaze deep.

The dappled forest light fell on the boy’s still-soft face, the faint down glimmering in the sun, his lashes trembling like little brushes, his delicate nose beaded with sweat…

“Ah! I hit it!”

Su Qingze shouted in excitement. Suddenly, a hand reached out to wipe the sweat from his nose.

He froze, then heard the youth’s calm voice: “Your aim is fine, but your arm strength is lacking. You must practice more.”

“Yes!” Su Qingze nodded quickly, like a pecking chick.

“Practice will be hard. You must persevere.” Zhao Youheng mounted his horse in one fluid motion.

“Alright!” Su Qingze responded cheerfully, mounting his horse as well, riding on with him into the mountains.

After a full day of wild play in the mountains, Zhao Youheng departed Qingzhou the next day.

The boy lay slumped on his desk, his round face resting on his plump arm, staring blankly at the vast blue sky outside the window.

When Lady Wei entered, she saw him in this dispirited state.

“Why haven’t you gone out today?” she asked knowingly.

Su Qingze replied languidly, “There’s nothing fun in the streets. I’ve played them all to death.”

“You child!” Lady Wei sighed helplessly. “Don’t act like an eternal child, caring for nothing but play.”

Su Qingze looked at her in puzzlement. “What else is there to care for?”

“You’re sixteen this year,” Lady Wei scolded, “no longer a little boy! Daughters and dual-gendered youths your age from the Li and Wang families are already being betrothed. Though I’d like to keep you a few more years, you must be mindful of appearances!”

Su Qingze frowned, more puzzled. “Appearances? I’ve no entanglements with any man.”

Lady Wei shot him a glare. “And he isn’t a man?”

At that, Su Qingze realized she spoke of Zhao Youheng, and broke into helpless laughter. “Oh Mother, Ah Heng is my good friend! And he’s so handsome — even if people saw us together, they wouldn’t think that way.” The difference between them was too great, there was no match at all.

These words displeased Lady Wei. “Child, how can you belittle yourself so?”

Su Qingze grinned. “It’s wise to know one’s measure!”

Lady Wei pinched his chubby cheeks in exasperation. “I speak of serious matters, and you jest!”

“Mother, mother, let go! That hurts!” he yelped, baring his teeth.

She huffed, releasing him, her tone stern. “Enough deflecting. Speak of yourself. With him being so fine, have you truly no other thoughts?”

Rubbing his pinched face, Su Qingze muttered aggrievedly, “What thoughts could I possibly have?”

When her sharp eyes confirmed his honesty, Lady Wei’s brows knit. “Even if you have none, at your age, you must know your bounds.”

“Alright, alright, I understand!” Su Qingze promised quickly.

“These next days, stay at home. Your sister will visit with Lin’er soon.”

Su Qingze brightened. “Has brother-in-law’s post been decided?” His brother-in-law, Li Zhiyuan, was a new jinshi, and had spent over a year at the Hanlin Academy without assignment.

“That is for your elders to handle,” Lady Wei said. “Children shouldn’t meddle.”

Su Qingze pouted. “Weren’t you just saying I’m no longer a child?”

She rolled her eyes. “When it’s time to be grown, be grown. When it’s time to be a child, be a child. You don’t know how to read a situation. How will you fare once married?”

How had marriage entered the conversation again? Su Qingze hurriedly smiled. “Yes, yes, you’re right!”

“Since you’re home these days, read more, practice your calligraphy. Don’t remain ignorant beyond food and play. You once studied the xiao flute, shall I hire a tutor again?” She paused, reconsidered. “No, the xiao lacks refinement. Perhaps I’ll find you a master chef, let you learn cooking instead…”

What had gotten into her? Su Qingze quickly cut in: “Mother, what’s wrong with you today? You’re acting so strange!”

Lady Wei faltered, her gaze flickering, then waved it off. “Never mind. Forget what I said. Do as you wish.” With a complicated look, she turned and left.

Scratching his head, Su Qingze muttered. His mother was truly inexplicable today. Had something happened?

Back in her own chamber, Lady Wei sat with worry etched on her face.

Su Jingheng handed her a cup of water. “Well? What does Qingze think?”

She sighed. “He says he has no feelings, yet when I saw him listless, the moment his name was mentioned his spirit shone bright…”

“Perhaps he’s still too young to understand love,” Su Jingheng said, less troubled. “But feelings can be cultivated. Let them spend more time together, and it will come naturally.”

“Ridiculous!” Lady Wei slapped the table, brows flaring. “So you’d sell our son for gain?!”

Su Jingheng laughed bitterly. “My dear wife! How is that selling him? I simply see the Prince of Jing’an as young, capable, and sincere—”

“Sincere?” Lady Wei cut him coldly. “This is pure coercion! To speak so smoothly, saying the betrothal will be void if he fails, but if he succeeds, he’ll wed him. What then if our son finds another he loves before his grand designs succeed? Must he be forbidden to marry?”

Su Jingheng’s face twisted with shame. Indeed, the arrangement bore the stench of force. Yet they could not resist. He soothed her: “Qingze and he are close, and he treats Qingze well. For now, let it be. Qingze is still young. Should anyone raise the matter of marriage, you may deflect it easily.”

Lady Wei knew it was helplessness, rubbed her brow. “I’ve warned Qingze to keep his distance from other men. As for the old madam, you must handle her.”

Dealing with his mother’s dislike of Qingze was already tiresome, but this time it was critical. “Don’t worry,” Su Jingheng said. “I’ll make her see reason.”

Yet the boy himself knew nothing of his fate. He only noticed his family acting oddly, especially his grandmother! She was suddenly amiable, even sending him treats!

“Young Master, this bodes ill,” Ming’an, his servant, whispered as he eyed the candied fruit and dried meats sent by the old lady’s maid.

Su Qingze refused to think poorly. “She’s still my grandmother. Even if she dislikes me, I will treat her well.”

He was guileless. If she softened, he would gladly show her sincere filial piety.

Alas, people’s hearts are not always so kind. Sometimes, when you offer joyfully, you find only ugliness.

The spark came from the old lady’s dearest granddaughter, the second young miss, Su Ruizhen.

Another year passed, and Su Ruizhen was nineteen. At such age, most girls or dual-gendered youths were married or betrothed. But she, proud and demanding, found none of her suitors’ faces or family backgrounds worthy.

Then the old lady let slip that Su Qingze had an engagement with a royal in the capital, soon to turn from sparrow into phoenix. She warned Ruizhen not to provoke him, lest he bear grudges and trouble her in the future.

Hearing this, Ruizhen’s heart filled with venomous jealousy. Why should Su Qingze, fat as a pig, marry a noble of the capital, while she must stoop to these provincial boors?

She seethed, weeping daily to the old lady. Pitying her beloved granddaughter, the old woman’s resentment toward Qingze grew. Though fearful of his powerful betrothed, she no longer vented her dislike openly.

But the bitterness gnawed at her. Seeing that over a year had passed without movement in Qingze’s marriage, she demanded of Su Jingheng: “What’s happening? A year and more, yet no betrothal rites! Who is this person truly?”

The other party was none other than the newly enthroned emperor. Su Jingheng dared not reveal it, only said, “Mother, it will be arranged. Don’t worry.”

She fumed. “You think me senile? Perhaps there’s no such thing at all? Look at your son — fat-headed and pig-eared. You expect me to believe he’ll wed a noble of the capital?”

“Mother, mind your words!” Su Jingheng barked.

His sharp tone startled her. “So now you despise your old mother, all of you? Ungrateful children!”

Breath short with rage, she went back to her quarters and snapped to her trusted maid: “Fat as a ball, and still stuffing his face! Were he livestock, at least he’d be slaughtered for meat. But him? Who knows when he’ll ever be fit!

“Sure, some butcher has placed a deposit, but what if, when the time comes, they reject him for being too fatty and return him? What then? If he cannot marry, where will I put my old face?”

“Madam, drink some tea and calm yourself. Children have their own fortunes. You needn’t worry so much,” the maid soothed.

The old lady snorted. “I’m not worried for him! I pity my Ruizhen. As fair as a flower, yet without such luck, forced to endure that pig daily…”

She was mid-curse when the door creaked open.

There stood Su Qingze, pale as paper.

“Grandmother… what you said just now — was it true?”

“You—why are you here?” The old lady’s eyes bulged, her hand trembled on her teacup, and with a gasp, she fainted!