Chapter 25: The Betrothal
The one pressing down with a fan was him; the one clutching his waist was also him.
Mu Bai blinked, exerted force with his hand to push the folding fan aside while straightening up, and asked, “What are you doing up here?”
Su Mo released him, smiling lightly as he said, “A martial arts tournament for marriage.”
Before his words had even faded, Mu Bai struck with a swift slash of his sword.
Facing Su Mo meant holding nothing back. Though this man usually feigned frailty and illness, his martial prowess was by no means weak. Mu Bai had scarcely ever seen him fight; the only time was back in Qinglian Valley, where Su Mo had disguised himself as a ghost, nearly injuring Mu Bai with poison-tipped silver needles.
Thus, from the very first move, Mu Bai unleashed the opening form of the Qinglian Sword Technique.
Su Mo narrowly dodged and whispered, “Young hero, please show mercy.”
Mu Bai launched his second move, saying as he struck, “If you fear being hurt, then hurry and step down.”
Su Mo bent backward to evade, his raven hair cascading like a waterfall. With an elegant flourish, he unfurled his fan, spun gracefully, and glided behind Mu Bai.
The lifted strands of dark hair brushed past his cheek once more, leaving behind a faint scent of sandalwood.
Mu Bai spun her sword and turned around, only to see Su Mo leisurely waving his fan twice, instantly igniting her fury.
“You scoundrel, take this seriously!”
The disciples of Lingyun Palace below the stage were stunned when they saw Su Mo step up; it took them a moment to regain their composure: “Isn’t that His Highness the Prince? He’s not lame?”
“Does this footwork look like that of a lame man?”
“I always saw him sitting weakly in his wheelchair, never expecting him to be so formidable.”
Ye Xing and Jin Yi stood guard beside the empty wheelchair, sighing silently.
What was bound to happen has finally come. To avoid the struggle for succession, His Highness had pretended to be lame for so long; now all that effort has gone to waste. Worse still, everyone now knows that the Fifth Prince is deeply scheming, having feigned illness so convincingly.
On the platform, Su Mo sidestepped a sword thrust, and catching sight of the incense nearly burned out from the corner of his eye, he reached out to grip Mu Bai’s left shoulder. “Forgive me.”
That was the very spot where Mu Bai had been injured; it hadn’t fully healed yet. Pressed there by him, she instantly gasped sharply in pain: “Hiss—you…”
Mu Bai furrowed her brows and swung her sword toward Su Mo’s neck, yet he made no move to dodge, thrusting his folding fan straight at her instead.
Just as Su Mo had anticipated, the sword did not truly strike down, while the fan had already pressed against Mu Bai’s Adam’s apple; a mere press of its hidden mechanism would drive the concealed poison needle into her throat.
The incense burned out, and the entire ash fell onto the table.
Su Mo released Mu Bai, snapped his folding fan shut, and remained as elegant as ever: “I yield to your skill.”
Mu Bai had held back at the last moment to avoid hurting Su Mo, yet Su Mo showed him no mercy.
His old shoulder wound still throbbed faintly; somehow, a sour heat rose in his chest, and suddenly he felt wronged.
Mu Bai stared blankly at Su Mo for a long while, nearly biting through his own lip before finally spitting out two words: “Despicable.”
Had anyone else done this, Mu Bai would never have spoken so; but since it was Su Mo, he felt utterly disappointed. How could Su Mo exploit the affection Mu Bai held for him?
Mu Bai took a deep breath, sheathed his sword, and walked straight off the stage without glancing at Su Mo even once.
After announcing the results of the duel, Huamei sincerely congratulated Su Mo: “Congratulations, Your Highness, on winning the beauty’s heart.”
Originally, Xiaobai had never quite approved of organizing this martial arts tournament for marriage; she hadn’t expected Su Mo to have a trick up his sleeve. Now, seeing this outcome, Huamei was rather satisfied.
Upon hearing that the young man in black robes on the stage was a prince, the audience below, regardless of which kingdom he hailed from, immediately grew solemn and respectful, joining in the congratulations: “Congratulations, Your Highness.”
Amidst the surrounding chorus of felicitations, Mu Bai found the noise grating. He strode over to Ye Xing’s side, slashed Su Mo’s wheelchair apart with a single sword strike, and departed with an air of triumph.
Back at Lingyun Palace, Mu Bai flopped onto the bed, closed her eyes, and didn’t feel like moving a muscle.
Su Mo hadn’t struck hard; by all rights, the injury should have stopped hurting long ago. Yet even now, his shoulder felt as though it were being torn apart, and his throat remained constricted.
An indeterminate amount of time passed before noises from outside grew loud, signaling that the disciples who had participated in the tournament were returning together.
Mu Bai rose from the bed, changed into women’s attire, and applied her makeup. Just as she finished dabbing on her lip rouge, Huamei came knocking at the door.
He opened the door to find Huamei beaming with joy, as if bursting with some tremendous news: “Xiao Bai, guess who won today’s duel?”
Mu Bai forced a faint smile: “Who was it?”
“Su Mo! Who would’ve thought his martial arts skills were so formidable?” Huamei chattered on. “Actually, Young Hero Taxue is quite impressive too, but he keeps sneaking into the homes of corrupt officials late at night—far too unpredictable.”
Mu Bai: “Oh.”
“Eh, Xiao Bai, why aren’t you happy at all?”
“I’m happy, extremely happy.”
Huamei: “…Really? Your smile looks worse than crying. What’s wrong? Tell your senior sister.”
Mu Bai shook her head. “It’s nothing. I just feel a bit unwell; a good sleep will fix it.”
“Alright then. If you have anything on your mind, be sure to tell your senior sister.”
“Senior Sister…” Mu Bai asked softly, “Tell me, if there is someone who means a great deal to you, so much that you cannot bear to strike them, yet they show no mercy in their desire to defeat you, even exploiting your weaknesses—wouldn’t that make them utterly wicked?”
Huamei thought for a moment and asked, “What benefit would he gain from defeating you?”
“Hmm… probably no benefit at all,” Mu Bai replied, of course unable to admit that his motive for winning was to marry her.
“Then this person must be quite wicked,” Huamei remarked.
Mu Bai felt even more frustrated.
“If defeating you would bring immense benefits, his actions would be understandable; but since there’s none, why bother?” Huamei steered the conversation back to the martial arts tournament for marriage. “Just like on the arena this afternoon—you didn’t see it, did you? When Young Hero Taxue thrust that sword, it nearly slit Su Mo’s throat, yet he didn’t even flinch. What does that tell you?”
Mu Bai replied gloomily, “It tells us he was certain that sword would never truly strike.”
“Huh?” Huamei was astonished. “This is a life-or-death matter; how could he have anticipated it?”
“Xiaobai, you spent so much time with His Highness in Qinglian Valley; surely you know his nature? Every night he locks his door tight, and even before drinking his medicine, he tests it first with a silver needle. Would someone like that gamble with his own life, betting that the other party wouldn’t kill him?”
Mu Bai: “…”
His gaze drifted aside as he murmured, “I never saw him test the buns for poison.”
Huamei smiled. “Who gave him the buns?”
“…It was given by me.”
“Xiao Bai, can’t you see it yet? His Highness has had feelings for you all along.” Huamei tapped the table and said seriously, “Though I don’t know why he pretended to be lame before, today’s martial arts tournament for marriage clearly shows he’s gone all out.”
“…Oh.” Mu Bai lowered her head, collapsing entirely onto the tabletop.
Huamei asked, “Who is that very important person? You previously promised me that once betrothed, there would be no backing out. His Highness has already sent someone back to Wuti to prepare the betrothal gifts.”
“Huh?” Mu Bai’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “So soon?”
Huamei spread her hands. “Well, that’s out of my hands. You’ll have to discuss these matters with him yourself.”
“Get some good rest. I must also draft a letter immediately to inform Eldest Senior Sister, so she can make the necessary preparations.”
After speaking, Huamei hummed a little tune and walked away.
Mu Bai ran his fingers through his hair, so worried he felt as if he were about to shed fur.
Before long, knocking sounded again from outside.
Mu Bai peeked out and saw the figure standing there; even just the silhouette exuded elegance, as though traced directly from a painting.
He immediately furrowed his brows: “I don’t want to see you.”
“Angry?” That voice actually sounded a bit unsteady.
“Furious.”
After saying this, Mu Bai realized that, given her disguise as a woman, she had no reason to be angry with him.
Just as she was about to concoct an excuse, she noticed that the person outside had already left.
She walked back to the head of the bed, caught sight of the forehead pendant resting on the dressing table, picked it up, and clenched it in her hand.
Mu Bai lay down on the bed, counted on her fingers, and recalled that Su Mo had kissed her exactly three times.
Twice in women’s attire, once in men’s…
At the time, his wound throbbed so intensely that he had no mind to ponder further; only now, upon reflection, did he realize something was amiss.
Su Mo claimed he had never touched those male consorts, so how could…
Mu Bai shook his head, finding his thoughts utterly consumed by matters concerning Su Mo, unable to shake them off. He pulled the blanket over his face, deciding to sleep first and deal with everything after waking up at night.
He woke up in the dead of night, later than his usual return time from nocturnal outings.
Mu Bai rubbed his eyes, stretched lazily, and sat up, lost in thought for a moment.
Catching sight of the jade pendant on his forehead glimmering faintly in the darkness, he raised a hand to touch his brow and resolved to seek out Su Mo for clear answers.
He got out of bed, changed into night-traveling attire, and after a brief hesitation before leaving, decided not to take the Tianyu Liufang sword with him.
It was not until she stood before Su Mo’s door that Mu Bai realized he had probably already gone to sleep at this hour.
Taking two steps back, Mu Bai thought again, “Who cares? I’ll just go in and take a look.”
She slipped quietly into the room and crept up to Su Mo’s bedside.
His dark hair spilled across the bed as he lay on his back, the profile of his face exquisitely defined; drawing closer, one could even make out the teardrop mole at the corner of his eye.
Mu Bai blinked, leaned close to his ear, and whispered softly, “Su Mo, your betrothed is a man.”
He had intended for these words to drift into Su Mo’s dreams, startling him awake in fright.
Unexpectedly, the man’s eyes curved gently as he let out a soft laugh: “Oh, isn’t that even better?”
Mu Bai: “?”
Not giving up, he added, “Really, if you took it out, it’d be bigger than yours.”
Su Mo could no longer keep up the act; he burst into coughing laughter and rolled over toward the inner side of the bed.
Mu Bai climbed onto the bed, forcibly turned him back, shook him gently twice, and said, “To be honest, she was me in disguise.”
Su Mo sat up, looked into his eyes, and spoke softly, “To be honest, I’ve liked you for a long time.”
Mu Bai: “…”
Su Mo raised his hand to smooth Mu Bai’s hair, saying softly, “Xiao Bai, don’t be angry with me anymore.”
“When the martial arts tournament for marriage began, I had already considered stepping onto the stage. At that time, I thought that rather than letting others delay you, I would rather be the one to delay you myself. But later, seeing you standing up there, I realized that even if no one had come to challenge, I still would have wanted to marry you… very much.”
His fingers trailed down the black hair to rest on Mu Bai’s shoulder, gently rubbing it. “Does it still hurt?”
Mentioning this immediately angered Mu Bai, who slapped Su Mo’s hand away from his shoulder and pointed to his Adam’s apple. “It’s still red here. Your fan nearly pierced right through.”
Su Mo leaned in, took a careful look, and sighed, “I hurt you.”
He reached out to wrap his arm around Mu Bai’s waist, pressing his lips to the curve of his neck and kissing it slowly.
Mu Bai was stunned.
He tried to push him away, but Su Mo caught his hand, flipped over, and pinned him completely against the foot of the bed.
“Let me go! If you keep this up, I’ll scream.”
“Who are you calling?” Su Mo curved his eyes and pecked the corner of his lips. “Don’t forget, I expect something in return for teaching you lightness skill.”
“What do you want in return?”
“You.”
Mu Bai pulled free from his grasp, attempting to sit up. “That won’t do. Name something else.”
Before she could straighten her back, Su Mo tightly interlaced his fingers with hers and pressed her back onto the bed.
Her vision was obscured by his raven-black hair; the scent of sandalwood filled every breath. Even his voice, reaching her ears, carried a tenderness and deep affection: “But this is exactly what I want.”
Along with his words came a tender, lingering kiss.
Su Mo was exceedingly patient, gently binding Mu Bai to him, interlacing their fingers and pressing cheek to cheek; only his ragged breathing betrayed his obsessive possessiveness.
In both lifetimes, Mu Bai had never even held hands with anyone; how could he withstand such teasing? He sank into this realm of tenderness, his body and mind going soft, save for one place that swelled with heat.
He felt his earlobe caught between teeth and gently tugged, an itch so exquisite it was unbearable, and somehow his eyes turned red.
“Good brother… mm.” Mu Bai dodged him, voice trembling. “Don’t tease me anymore.”