The Vicious Woman and the White Moonlight are both me - Chapter 25

Song Zhaoyan wanted to learn riding and archery. As the daughter of a military family, Zhan Xinyue already knew martial arts and horsemanship. Now that she was serving as Song Zhaoyan’s companion reader, she was naturally the most suitable instructor. Moreover, since they were both women, even physical contact wouldn’t be an issue.

Yet Song Zhaoyan deliberately chose to look elsewhere for an instructor instead of taking the convenient option. This alone was enough to show that the princess did not favor Zhan Xinyue as her companion reader.

This was a conclusion that everyone in Chaoyang Palace could easily reach.

Since the princess disliked this companion reader, the palace servants naturally did not dare grow close to her and were even more careful to avoid saying anything that might overstep their bounds.

As for the instructor Song Zhaoyan sought out, it was, of course, ultimately for Pei Shen’s sake. With Zhan Xinyue as the female lead and Pei Shen as the male lead, having Zhan Xinyue teach him would have been the best way to deepen their bond.

But if that were truly done, it would certainly affect Zhan Xinyue’s reputation.

So, Song Zhaoyan decided that she herself would “learn”—only to stubbornly be unable to “learn” properly. This way, she could seize the opportunity to make things difficult for Pei Shen and have him learn as well. And when Pei Shen encountered things he did not understand, Song Zhaoyan would definitely not allow the instructor to give him a serious explanation. That would leave Pei Shen with only one option: to seek out Zhan Xinyue.

That way, there would be yet another chance to promote the relationship between the two of them.

At the thought of this, Song Zhaoyan could hardly stop herself from applauding her own cleverness.

Before long, Aunt Tao found a riding and archery instructor.

“With the autumn hunt approaching, I must learn riding and archery before then. You are to teach me diligently!”

When the instructor heard that he was about to teach Princess Zhaohua, he nearly felt like dying on the spot. Yet, faced with the princess herself, he did not dare give anything but an answer.

“Replying to the princess, since Your Highness has never trained in these arts before, to master riding and archery in such a short time is… I’m afraid it will be somewhat difficult.”

The moment Song Zhaoyan heard this, she was displeased. “How dare you! Are you questioning me or admitting that your own abilities are lacking?”

The instructor answered with a thoroughly miserable expression. “Princess, please forgive me. This official… this official…”

“What? You can’t make something up now?” Song Zhaoyan pressed.

Seeing that the instructor was so anxious he was nearly in tears, Zhan Xinyue took the initiative to speak. “Princess, riding and archery are skills that require diligent practice to show results. If Your Highness wishes to achieve a satisfactory level, you will naturally need to devote more time and effort. During this period, this subject’s daughter will accompany the princess in additional practice.”

From the way Zhan Xinyue phrased it, if Song Zhaoyan wanted good results, she would have to put in the effort herself. And if the results were lacking, then it would not be the instructor’s fault but rather that Song Zhaoyan herself had been lazy and slack.

Song Zhaoyan had never truly intended to make things difficult for the instructor in the first place. Since Zhan Xinyue had offered her a way down, she naturally took it and even pretended not to understand the implication behind Zhan Xinyue’s words.

Seeing that Song Zhaoyan did not continue to press the matter, the instructor cast Zhan Xinyue a grateful glance, then withdrew to make preparations; lessons in riding and archery would begin the following day.

Meanwhile, Zhan Xinyue’s curious, probing gaze still lingered on Song Zhaoyan.

She was still puzzled by the identity of the expert she had encountered that day at the Qixi Festival, near Qingfeng Pavilion.

She went over every possibility in her mind, eliminating them one by one, until in the end, the final person she suspected was none other than Princess Zhaohua herself.

Although during this period she had not detected the slightest sign that Song Zhaoyan practiced martial arts, nor any trace of internal energy, Zhan Xinyue felt that this only further confirmed her suspicion that the expert had been Song Zhaoyan.

After all, if Zhan Xinyue herself had not been a match for that person, then it would hardly be strange for Song Zhaoyan to be able to conceal her skills so thoroughly that even Zhan Xinyue could not detect them.

Zhan Xinyue reasoned that perhaps, as an orphan, even though Song Zhaoyan enjoyed the Emperor’s favor, the palace still concealed many hidden dangers. She might have been forced to hide her martial abilities for self-protection.

Now that she had grown up, she could gradually reveal some of her abilities—though not all at once—and thus find an excuse to “learn” them openly.

In that case, Zhan Xinyue intended to observe Song Zhaoyan’s progress during her training.

If she truly was nothing more than a pampered princess who knew nothing at all, then mastering riding and archery in such a short time would be utterly impossible. Whether she could even endure the hardship would be questionable.

Perhaps at the autumn hunt she might manage to ride, but her speed would certainly be slow. She might be able to shoot, but the distance would be limited. As for mounted archery—there would be no chance of mastering that at all.

But if, when the time came, Song Zhaoyan were able to put on a convincing display, then it would only mean one thing. It wouldn’t be because she was so extraordinarily gifted as to learn everything in such a short time—but because she had chosen to reveal what she already knew.

With that thought, Zhan Xinyue became more invested than anyone else in Song Zhaoyan’s decision to learn riding and archery.

Not long after Song Zhaoyan’s coming-of-age banquet ended, she was once again bustling about her riding and archery training.

Everyone in the palace was curious about what new mischief Princess Zhaohua was up to this time but soon another matter drew all attention away—that was the upcoming Reunion Festival.

With the Empress still confined, the Noble Consort had obtained authority over palace affairs. Yet just a few days before the banquet, the Crown Prince reported to the Emperor that the Crown Princess was with child.

Such momentous news naturally delighted the Emperor, even though it was swiftly followed by considerations concerning the court.

No matter what, under the present circumstances, the Empress’s confinement had to be lifted first.

When Song Zhaoyan received this news, she was completely stunned.

The Crown Princess was pregnant—this did not match the information the system had given her at all. Wasn’t the Crown Prince already ruined? How could there be a pregnancy?

Song Zhaoyan pressed the system several times, but it repeatedly stated that the later plot had not yet been unlocked and could not be disclosed. She was so frustrated she almost laughed in anger.

In the end, the Empress’s confinement was indeed lifted. She was now busy preparing for the upcoming Reunion Festival and tending to the child growing in the Crown Princess’s womb.

Meanwhile, Song Zhaoyan immersed herself daily in riding and archery practice, seeming genuinely intent on shining at the approaching autumn hunt and winning Pei Chengyun’s attention.

Watching Song Zhaoyan practice day after day, Zhan Xinyue saw nothing amiss at all. Once again, she began to doubt whether her earlier speculation had been wrong and whether the masked expert had truly not been Song Zhaoyan after all.

On further thought, that seemed reasonable enough. If Song Zhaoyan really were that expert, then who had taught her martial arts? Over all these years in the palace, could it really be that no one had noticed?

In the end, Zhan Xinyue abandoned her original suspicions.

As for Song Zhaoyan, she clenched her teeth and persisted through the hardship of learning riding and archery not to win Pei Chengyun’s attention but with her own future in mind.

Once she completed her mission here, she would “die” in a great fire and then return to her original identity.

She knew full well that she lacked the talent for scholarly pursuits, but learning more practical skills was always beneficial. For that reason, Song Zhaoyan trained with exceptional diligence.

Seeing how invested Song Zhaoyan was—apparently all to gain Pei Chengyun’s favor—Pei Shen could not help but sneer inwardly.

Yet her effort inevitably spurred him on as well.

Song Zhaoyan insisted, no matter what, that Pei Shen learn alongside her. Though she still used that lofty, domineering tone, saying that as a princess she had to endure hardship at the training grounds and could not bear to see Pei Shen lounging about at ease, she demanded that he train too, even instructing the instructor to increase the difficulty for him.

But rather than feeling annoyed, Pei Shen felt a faint, unexpected joy.

After all, these were skills every prince was supposed to learn. Unfortunately, for all those years, his training in this area had been sorely lacking.

As an unfavored prince, no one had ever selected a suitable horse for him, nor had anyone ever taken care to teach him the fundamentals of horsemanship.

Now that he finally had the chance to learn, how could he not be pleased?

The intensity of the training was such that even Zhan Xinyue found it hard to watch. She tried several times to plead with Song Zhaoyan on Pei Shen’s behalf but each time she was refused.

During a break, unable to bear it any longer, Zhan Xinyue took some medicine and went to see Pei Shen on her own initiative.

“If Your Highness truly can’t endure it physically, perhaps you could go and ask the princess to give the order for the instructor to ease the training a little.”

Seeing that it was Zhan Xinyue, Pei Shen immediately suppressed the grimacing pain on his face and returned to a composed expression.

In Pei Shen’s view, Zhan Xinyue had only ever heard of Song Zhaoyan’s reputation and had never witnessed her misdeeds firsthand. Thus, her attitude toward Song Zhaoyan was merely lukewarm rather than truly resentful. She thought that if he spoke a few gentle words, Song Zhaoyan would let him off.

How naïve.

Still, Pei Shen did not treat Zhan Xinyue with cold indifference. Instead, he said, “Thank you for your kindness, Miss Zhan, but I don’t see this as torment. On the contrary, I see it as an opportunity. She wants to curry favor with Fifth Imperial Brother, so I get to see books I would never have access to at the Wenxue Hall. She wants to learn riding and archery to make a splash at the autumn hunt and catch Fifth Imperial Brother’s eye, so I get to benefit by learning alongside her. If it were possible, I’d truly wish she wouldn’t bother with things like needlework and embroidery and instead take up martial training and sword practice—then perhaps I could take advantage of the chance to learn as well. Unfortunately, she would never choose to study those things.”

Listening to Pei Shen’s words, Zhan Xinyue could not help but feel a twinge of sadness.

Although Pei Shen was a true imperial prince, his treatment was not even as good as that of a favored master’s personal attendant.

As for Zhan Xinyue, though her status was far less exalted than Pei Shen’s, her father had doted on her for many years, making up for the absence of maternal affection.

Both of them had lost their mother and so naturally shared certain common ground. Yet Zhan Xinyue had grown up with a father’s love, and being three years older than Pei Shen, she found herself unconsciously wanting to care for him a little more.

“If Your Highness wishes to learn, perhaps this subject’s daughter could teach you.”

Pei Shen was overjoyed. “Truly?”

Zhan Xinyue nodded firmly. “Of course. When the time comes for Your Highness to leave the palace and establish your own residence, with skills at your disposal, you’ll be able to live freely—for your own sake.”

Hearing that Zhan Xinyue still remembered what he had said when they first met at Qingfeng Pavilion, a ripple stirred quietly in Pei Shen’s heart.

“Then it’s settled. You mustn’t go back on your word.”

“Of course!”

The brief exchange ended amid eager anticipation. Though exhausted in both body and spirit, Pei Shen felt content. He once again threw himself into the practice of riding and archery.

Under Song Zhaoyan’s orders, the instructor’s training of Pei Shen was indeed bordering on exploitation. As a result, Pei Shen’s body could hardly take it—every day he ached all over his body and even at night he was in too much pain to sleep.

Pei Shen was hurting and Song Zhaoyan was no exception. The difference was that she had the system as a cheat; she could use points to offset the pain. Still, she genuinely worried that the instructor might be pushing Pei Shen too hard. At his age, when his body was still developing, overtraining could easily backfire.

Once again, Song Zhaoyan slipped into the darkness and made her way to Pei Shen’s secluded spot in the dark. This time, however, she did not use points to put Pei Shen to sleep.

Though Song Zhaoyan moved lightly, Pei Shen was in too much pain to sleep soundly, and he quickly noticed her presence.

He immediately became alert, grabbing a stick at hand and swinging it toward her. But the other party’s figure was nimble and fluid, easily evading his attack.

“Who are you? Do you know where this is? Do you realize that if I shout even once, the imperial guards will arrive at once to arrest you?”

Pei Shen issued his warning with righteous severity, yet it did not elicit the slightest fear from the intruder.

“Is that so? But if I could break in here, do you really think those people could catch me? Still, you are quite vigilant. I made only the slightest noise and you noticed at once. Looks like you really are a piece of promising material. My risk of coming here wasn’t in vain.”

These words left Pei Shen utterly confused, but he did not loosen his grip on the stick in the slightest. “What do you mean?”

Song Zhaoyan deliberately lowered her voice, putting on the air of a reclusive master. “I was entrusted by someone to come and take you as my disciple. If you’re unwilling, all the better—it would save me the trouble of risking my life to come looking for you again in the future.”

With that, Song Zhaoyan deliberately put on a look of great reluctance and turned as if she were about to leave.

The sudden shift and refusal to follow any expected pattern left Pei Shen no time to think.

He had only said during the day that he wished to learn martial arts, and that very night a mysterious figure appeared, claiming to be acting on someone’s behalf.

Who else could it be on behalf of? Pei Shen’s thoughts naturally leapt first to what Zhan Xinyue had said earlier that day.

Could it be her?

Before he could even voice that doubt, Pei Shen called out to stop the mysterious figure.

“Wait!”

Seeing her plan succeed, Song Zhaoyan turned back with feigned irritation. “What is it?”

Pei Shen immediately felt a twinge of embarrassment. He put away the stick and straightened his posture. “May I ask whom you were entrusted by?”

Though delighted, Pei Shen had not completely lost his composure and still wanted some answers.

Song Zhaoyan knew exactly what Pei Shen was thinking. In the darkness, she smiled faintly and spoke in an air of secrecy. “That person doesn’t wish for me to tell you for now—but also said that you could probably guess.”

Hearing this reply, Pei Shen’s trust grew by several degrees.

It must be Miss Zhan. It had to be Miss Zhan!