But now, she wanted to survive together with Cui Yiyu.

She wanted to take Cui Yiyu away from the Crown Prince.

A single tree cannot hold up a structure; relying on her alone would not be enough.

“Training a horse is not something achieved in a single day.” Cui Yiyu did not continue further, only casually patting the horse’s back. Watching its tail flick in the air, he spoke as though it were an ordinary remark.

Lin Yuanjin raised her eyes thoughtfully, when she suddenly noticed Sheng Bingying walking straight toward them from not far away.

Seeing that Cui Yiyu was about to withdraw his hand, she looped the reins onto the iron handhold and reached out to grab his pale wrist. When he stopped and turned back, she leaned forward against the horse’s back, lifted her head, and looked at him at close range. Blinking, she asked, “Have you taught anyone before?”

The distance between the two looked especially close, as though they were intimately familiar.

“Teach?” Cui Yiyu paused, lifting his eyes in confusion as he met Lin Yuanjin’s gaze. In his calm repetition, there was a faint, habitual coldness. “Never.”

It was as if the ordinarily calm and indifferent surface had been lifted at one corner, faintly revealing a past he had never shown to others, obscure and difficult to speak of.

Before becoming the Crown Prince’s shadow guard, what he experienced was the gu¹gu: poison—often referring to venomous toxins used for control or conditioning in training.-like survival slaughter within the Cui family’s hidden residence.

The strong survived. What Cui Yiyu needed was to constantly learn skills—learn a little more, and his chances of survival would increase.

Those with soft hearts had already turned into stepping-stone bones within the first few days of entering the hidden residence.

As for the Crown Prince—

Other imperial heirs had not yet reached the age to learn horseback riding, and princes never lacked tutors. Although the Crown Prince did not mind performing the act of brotherly harmony, he was even less willing to accidentally bear the charge of harming a royal sibling.

Lin Yuanjin looked at Cui Yiyu with focused attention, as though trying to discern something from his words.

From the corner of his eye, Cui Yiyu caught sight of the Sheng family’s daughter approaching in their direction and frowned slightly. “Let’s talk somewhere else.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he tapped the ground with his toe and leapt up, swinging himself onto the horse behind Lin Yuanjin. He placed her hands on the handhold, his arms passing by her waist as he skillfully took hold of the reins. With a sharp “Hyah!” he quickly pressed his heel to urge the horse forward.

The horse had been idle for so long it was nearly dozing in place. Now, finally stirred, it let out a long whinny and broke into a brisk run with a rhythmic “clop-clop.”

They looked like a young couple who, on a whim, had set off on a carefree outing.

Only Sheng Bingying was left standing where she was, not even having had time to greet them, seeing only the dust kicked up by the horse’s hooves. Holding in her anger, she could only turn and leave.

The autumn wind rushed head-on, mixed with the rich scent of grass.

Panicked, Lin Yuanjin grabbed the handhold. The sudden movement of the horse made her unstable in the saddle, forcing her to clamp her knees tightly against the horse’s back. The hard saddle pressed painfully between her legs.

The horse ran fast; even its occasional turns gave her the strong sensation that she was about to be flung off along the arc.

Only when faced with difficulty did she realize how even the simple act of firmly placing her feet in the stirrups at the beginning had been so hard.

Fortunately, there were no more sharp turns. After a period of steady galloping in a straight line, even Lin Yuanjin, a beginner, gradually adapted.

“Relax your shoulders, lean back.” The boy’s voice came by her ear, slightly breathless.

Lin Yuanjin had just wanted to speak when the wind rushed into her mouth, forcing her to quickly close her lips. Lowering her head, she then noticed that the arms on either side of her were like railings protecting her, yet the intense jolting made it impossible for her to relax.

She tried stiffly to lean back, but it felt as though she had leaned into Cui Yiyu’s embrace.

A martial practitioner’s body was steady, and during intense movement his body heat grew even stronger. The sudden bodily contact left her at a loss, with no mind to pay attention to the fleeting scenery beside them.

The jolting rise and fall, the collision of their bodies, and the excessive tension left Lin Yuanjin breathless. Her inner garments clung to her sweat-dampened body, growing moist.

The sudden intense motion even stirred up a sense of dizziness.

“Whoa—” Cui Yiyu rode the horse to the edge of a mountain lake and quickly pulled the reins.

Wild beasts often appeared by mountain pools, and few idle nobles would risk coming here.

Unlike the prey specifically raised for nobles to hunt, wild beasts were cunning and fierce, not something ordinary people could handle.

The horse seemed not yet satisfied. It lifted its forelegs off the ground, reluctant, turning in a circle before finally stopping.

That rear caused Lin Yuanjin to fall entirely against Cui Yiyu. He held her by the waist to steady her, yet her eyes were unfocused, and she could only take small breaths.

No one had ever told her that riding a horse was such an exhausting thing.

To avoid being thrown off, Lin Yuanjin clamped her knees tightly against the horse’s sides until they went numb. Her calves below ached, while her thighs did not hurt—rather, the force of the jolting traveled upward between her legs straight to her waist. Coupled with maintaining a straight-backed posture, she only felt as though her whole body had been beaten.

So tired.

Under the overwhelming fatigue, Lin Yuanjin temporarily had no strength to think of anything else. She weakly leaned against Cui Yiyu’s chest, saying nothing.

Cui Yiyu lowered his head; his chin inadvertently brushed against the top of the girl’s hair in his arms. Lowering his gaze, he saw her wilted appearance and paused.

He indeed lacked knowledge of the condition of a woman’s body. Although he had considered that Lin Yuanjin was physically weak, he had not expected that after running less than a hundred zhang, she would already be unable to endure it.

Cui Yiyu took the water pouch from his waist, removed the wooden stopper, and supported her neck to feed her a few mouthfuls of water, lightly patting her back before she gradually regained her senses.

Lin Yuanjin pushed away the water pouch at her lips, still unable to sit upright for a moment.

Cui Yiyu suddenly noticed the red marks across her palms and realized they were imprints from her gripping the handhold under tension. He immediately dismounted. Wanting to perform a formal salute yet wary of being noticed by others, he only lowered his head. “This subordinate is at fault.”

Lin Yuanjin was taken aback and looked at him in confusion. “What fault do you have?”

“I know you saw Sheng Bingying and the others wanting to approach. Because of me, you got on the horse and ran a stretch…” Lin Yuanjin paused, then smiled. “I also didn’t expect riding to be this tiring. It’s not your fault.”

Back in the modern world, horseback riding had been something very distant from her.

Not only had her studies been demanding and her parents strict and oppressive, even after she succeeded and had money, she would never have thought to ride a horse with heroic grace like the protagonists in dramas.

Now that she had the opportunity, and with the person she liked personally teaching her, she had thought they could ride together, swift and dashing like shooting stars—only to discover that riding for a short while could leave her gasping for breath.

Yet Lin Yuanjin did not feel any sense of shattered illusion. On the contrary, the immense fatigue instead stirred her curiosity.

“Although it’s dangerous and exhausting, I’m very happy.” There were still beads of sweat on Lin Yuanjin’s forehead, yet her face lifted into a bright smile. She used quite direct words to express her joy.

The stimulation raised her adrenaline; the sense of impact it brought was something ordinary things could not give her.

The blue sky, the boundless mountains and grassy plains, the fragrant wind rushing freely through the air, the feeling of freedom spreading at her fingertips.

Since transmigrating here, this was the first time she had truly experienced a brief sense of freedom—without oppression, without scrutiny.

Seeing Lin Yuanjin’s sincerity, Cui Yiyu finally let go of the thought of asking for punishment.

“You may know, I was not favored in the Lin family.” Lin Yuanjin lifted her eyes and spoke as though lightly, “My elder sister is intelligent and composed, socially adept, proficient in poetry and embroidery—everyone likes her.”

Her calculating father, her face-conscious mother, her status-driven grandmother—all of them focused on Lin Weiyin, who could better assist in a political marriage alliance.

In comparison, Lin Yuanjin, who only knew how to be obedient and was not outstanding in anything, was so inconspicuous.

But in truth, many times it was not that Lin Yuanjin could not do well, but that she had sensed the malice of Lin Weiyin, who loved to gather all favor and attention upon herself.

It was a kind of pure malice, born of youth, fearless and unrestrained.

“Perhaps in others’ eyes, I am weak and incompetent.” Lin Yuanjin smiled. “But for me, just staying alive has already taken great effort.”

But avoidance could not solve the problem.

Malice still fell upon her.

Cui Yiyu was right—if you are strong, others are weak; if you are weak, others become strong. Retribution is unfailing.

She still had something she wanted to ask him.

“You and I had no prior connection; what has happened today is also by chance.” Lin Yuanjin wore a seemingly relaxed smile, yet her hands were held stiffly behind her back. Lowering her voice, she dropped her gaze and said, “It seems I do not have the right to inquire about your past.”

She was adept at avoidance—neither strong enough to contend with others, nor brave enough.

Cui Yiyu fell into silence, only looking at her steadily.

A right? Why would Lin Yuanjin think this way?

She was the Crown Princess, he was a shadow guard—the difference between them was like heaven and earth. As for his past, to Cui Yiyu it was merely trivial matters that could be written out on a single sheet of paper. As long as she wished, with one command, he would not refuse.

But Lin Yuanjin’s way of thinking had always been different from others.

Cui Yiyu was not a foolish person; after this long, he could more or less infer her thoughts.

“My past is not something to be told to outsiders, but that does not mean it cannot be spoken.”

The youth considered his reply, then raised his head, revealing his refined jawline. His dark eyes were like the night as he looked back at her seriously and said,

“If you wish to understand my past, no condition is needed. But until now, only you have been able to distinguish at a glance the difference between me and the Crown Prince.”

“For you, is that enough to be called a ‘right’?”

Footnotes

• 1
  gu: poison—often referring to venomous toxins used for control or conditioning in training.