Destined Hearts of Mu and Yu (GL) - Chapter 63
The next day, the envoys from the Desert Kingdom visited Wei, and the event was grander than ever before. All civil and military officials gathered to welcome them, as a gesture of friendship between the two nations.
Qin Mu knew she would meet them sooner or later, so she stood alongside the officials at the palace gates.
“His Highness, the Crown Prince, arrives!” A eunuch’s sharp cry echoed. Everyone turned to see Wei Yanhang descend gracefully from the palace steps, looking proud and full of spring cheer. The officials hurried forward to greet him, all smiles and praise.
On the side, Lu Xu and Lu Youwei, father and son, ground their teeth in frustration.
Ever since Wei Yanhang’s success in praying for rain, Qin Mu had crafted catchy rhymes and paid street children with candied figures to sing them across the city. She also arranged for storytellers in teahouses to spread the tale, embellished with flair. Word spread, and soon the Crown Prince’s reputation among the people soared. Now that he was chosen as the top contender to face the Desert envoy in the hunting contest, his prestige overshadowed all others.
Everyone knew—if he defeated the Desert envoy, Wei Yanhang’s momentum would be unstoppable. Though he walked proudly, he still greeted Qin Mu with respect.
“Teacher.”
This single act made all the officials admire Qin Mu’s ability. To raise the Crown Prince into a capable leader within just two months—truly remarkable.
But today’s true guest of honor was the envoy from the Desert. After a brief exchange, the ministers lined the gates to welcome the visitor.
The skies above the capital were unusually blue, the sun blazing, leaving the officials drenched in sweat. Yet even after waiting long, the envoy had not appeared. Wei Yanhang grew restless, muttering bitterly to Qin Mu,
“Just a country woman, and she dares to keep me waiting.”
Qin Mu frowned and pressed a finger to her lips. He shut his mouth reluctantly, though his face still seethed with annoyance.
At last, the drums thundered. Qin Mu tugged Wei Yanhang forward just as the envoy’s carriage halted at the gates. Wei Yanhang strode quickly to greet the guest.
But when the curtain lifted, it revealed only dozens of plainly dressed attendants. Wei Yanhang froze. Then, in the distance, a single horse thundered forward, dust billowing. It charged straight toward him without slowing. Wei Yanhang’s face turned pale—never had he seen such a scene.
At the last instant, the rider tugged the reins. The horse veered, skimming past him, and galloped straight into the palace.
“Protect His Majesty!” cried the chief eunuch, seeing the rider, a woman with a great winged bow strapped to her back, heading straight for the Emperor. Guards swarmed, but the rider spun her horse, circling the gates in two swift loops. Rising in her saddle, she drew her bow. Arrows shot like lightning into the stone walls, bursting into showers of colored sparks.
A red silk scroll unfurled down the gate tower, its golden letters blazing with blessings for the Wei Kingdom.
The horse halted. The woman dismounted in one fluid, graceful motion, stepped forward, and bowed deeply with fists clasped.
The Emperor descended from his throne with a smile. “Truly, the Desert Kingdom is blessed with talent.”
The ministers, realizing the carriage had been a decoy, crowded around. Qin Mu coughed softly, reminding Wei Yanhang to compose himself. He caught her hint, forcing a stiff smile, mouthing, That woman is amazing.
Qin Mu studied Qin Ling—the Desert Princess. Despite standing in the heart of the capital, she neither flinched nor fawned. Her opening move was domineering, bringing with her the weight of desert sands.
“Grand Tutor Qin, she seems even stronger than you,” Wei Yanhang muttered nervously, glancing at the arrows embedded deep in the stone walls.
“The arrowheads are coated with sulfur,” Qin Mu said calmly.
Wei Yanhang blinked, stunned. Qin Mu leaned closer, whispering a few words. At once, realization dawned.
“Yanhang, come,” the Emperor called.
“This is Princess Qin Ling of the Desert,” he said warmly, patting his son’s shoulder. “And this is my Crown Prince, Wei Yanhang.”
“We’ve already met,” Qin Ling said coolly, her sharp gaze making Yanhang recall his earlier panic, cheeks burning.
“Yanhang’s archery is impressive. You two should exchange skills,” the Emperor added with confidence.
Wei Yanhang’s heart trembled, but Qin Ling was already handing him her longbow. “Crown Prince, would you like to try?”
With Qin Mu’s steady gaze giving him courage, Wei Yanhang straightened. “Then allow me to show a little skill.”
He drew one of Qin Ling’s arrows, sniffed it—the sulfur scent was strong. He aimed at the wall’s center, released, and the arrow struck deep with a sharp crack. The crowd gasped with admiration.
Wei Yanhang turned, beaming, and clenched his fist toward Qin Mu. But Qin Ling’s eyes found Qin Mu as well. Their gazes met. Qin Mu gave a slight nod. Qin Ling smiled faintly, her look carrying deep meaning—as if meeting Qin Mu here was no surprise at all.
“Grand Tutor Qin,” Yanhang whispered, seeing Qin Mu frowning in thought. She turned back to him and said quietly,
“Your Highness, my cold hasn’t healed. I won’t be attending tonight’s banquet.”
“Then rest well in the palace,” he agreed, noticing her strange expression.
***
That night, in a deserted ruined temple outside the city, moonlight streamed through broken tiles onto a group of black-clad men surrounding Lu Xu.
“Master, the trap is ready. Tomorrow we’ll ambush the Crown Prince on his hunting path. Once he appears, he won’t leave alive.”
“Good.” Moonlight split Lu Xu’s face between shadow and light as he smiled wickedly. “Go without worry. I’ll see your families are cared for.”
“For the young master, we gladly give our lives,” the assassins swore, revealing tattoos of a soaring eagle—the Desert Kingdom’s emblem.
Lu Xu’s grin deepened. Killing the Crown Prince and framing the Desert would spark war between the two nations. When both were weakened, he alone would profit
The next day, the palace arena was filled with officials. The Emperor sat proudly in the center, facing rows of archery targets.
Drums boomed. The gates opened. From the right, Wei Yanhang rode in golden robes, bow on his back. From the left, Qin Ling entered in black, calm and steady. Both halted in the center, awaiting the signal.
“Begin the first round: target shooting,” the eunuch cried.
Qin Ling urged her horse forward, circling swiftly, kicking up dust like a desert storm. Visibility was poor—an intentional tactic to blind her opponent. She loosed arrows—clang, clang, clang—each strike hitting dead center. The score widened quickly.
“Grand Tutor Qin, why hasn’t the Crown Prince fired yet?” asked Dong Rui beside Qin Mu, who only coughed into her handkerchief, pale and uneasy.
“You’re still unwell?” Dong Rui frowned with concern. Qin Mu nodded faintly, her eyes flickering. Dong Rui sensed something odd but returned his attention to the field. Only then did Qin Mu sigh in relief.
By now, Qin Ling’s score had soared: 0 to 8.
Qin Mu clenched her fists, urging silently: Yanhang, what are you waiting for? Shoot!
At last, Wei Yanhang tore a strip from his robe, tying it over his eyes. Gasps spread through the arena. Blindfolded, he urged his horse into the dust storm, loosing arrows in rapid succession. Thuds echoed—clang, clang, clang—the score leapt from 0:8 to 3:8.
Cheers erupted. More arrows followed, swift and deadly, striking true. When the dust cleared, the round ended tied at 15:15.
Though it was only a draw, his composure under pressure amazed all. Blind, he had relied solely on memory of the targets’ positions—a feat few could match.
“Second round: hunting in the back mountain. Whoever captures the Rabbit King wins!” announced the eunuch.
The Emperor released a fat rabbit with gleaming red eyes. It bolted into the forest. Qin Ling and Wei Yanhang galloped in pursuit.
But deep in the woods, Yanhang suddenly found himself surrounded. Silver arrows rained from the trees, killing his horse. Dozens of masked men emerged, blades glinting coldly.
Wei Yanhang drew a hidden soft blade, spinning like a storm, forcing them back. The assassins exchanged uneasy glances—this was far beyond the skill they knew of the pampered Crown Prince.
They did not realize the truth: the one before them was not Wei Yanhang, but Qin Mu in disguise. She had anticipated his weakness in the contest and had planned to compete in his stead. What she had not expected was the deadly ambush waiting in the forest.
Nor did the assassins expect that their “prey” was no helpless prince, but the formidable Qin Mu.