Chapter 95: Hello Chang’an
.png)
"IF YOU LIKE THE TRANSLATIONS, CONSIDER SUPPORTING US ON PATREON."
Chapter 95: Mischief
In the moment when Wen Zheng raised the Polo stick, Qiao Yubai, Cui Lang, and the other two who were attentively watching the match in the waiting area had already come to a conclusion in their hearts; they firmly believed that the final opponents would indeed be Wen Zheng and his team.
Wen Zheng's Polo stick did strike the colorful ball—
On a hot summer afternoon, the air was warped by the heat, waves of hot air shimmered like water, forming a massive net that seemed to slow down the movements of the young players kicking the ball under everyone's watchful gaze.
Moments later, the answer came swiftly.
As the colorful ball was sent flying, the crowd's emotions rose and fell dramatically, releasing gasps of surprise or disappointment.
“How could it not go in…”
“It missed completely!”
In an instant, the expressions of the other three members of the red team froze in confusion—
Wen Zheng's shot actually went off target?
And just in that brief moment of distraction, a member of the yellow team seized the opportunity to grab the colorful ball and passed it to Chang Miao—
Chang Miao swung his stick, and the brightly colored ball arced high in the air, soaring into the goal marked by colorful flags.
“It’s in!” someone from the yellow team immediately cheered.
The red team members snapped back to reality, spurring their horses and raising their sticks to try to reclaim the ball. However, the sudden turn of events had left them flustered. They saw Wen Zheng still dazed in place, while Chang Miao was already charging towards them—
This was a common trick of the yellow team.
On the field, with players retreating and advancing, it was all just about contesting the ball, which was nothing out of the ordinary. But the yellow team was reckless, often crashing into them head-on, forcing them to dodge and repeatedly missing chances to score—
The youth at the forefront of the red team was filled with anger at this moment and decided not to avoid this time—he wanted to see if the opponent dared to really collide with him!
Seeing this, Chang Miao’s eyes gleamed with a hint of sarcastic amusement.
The next moment, the two horses collided head-on. Chang Miao's steed slammed its hooves heavily against the opposing horse, causing the red team youth to be thrown off his mount with a neigh of distress.
A gasp rose from the crowd.
“Ziyun!”
Only then did Chang Miao tighten the reins and look down from his horse at the fallen youth, feigning surprise: “...I was just riding forward, and you were just standing there, not moving at all?”
He added with a light hissing sound: “Could it be that you saw the match slipping away and deliberately crashed into me, trying to find a way to extort me?”
“Chang Miao, you…” The youth gritted his teeth and sat up, about to speak when the gong signaling the end of the match sounded.
“The Xiantong Academy's yellow team wins this round, taking three flags and winning the match!”
Chang Miao and the others began to cheer in celebration.
“Ziyun, are you alright?”
Wen Zheng and the other two dismounted and hurried over to the youth who had fallen from his horse.
Wen Zheng reached out to help him, but the youth shrugged him off, standing up with a serious expression and questioning, “...Wen Zheng, why did you miss that shot just now?”
The other two also looked at Wen Zheng.
The understanding and tacit cooperation among teammates was clear to all; they knew that such an error should not have occurred with Wen Zheng.
“I...” Wen Zheng lowered his head, feeling ashamed, and said, “My wrist suddenly hurt just then, and I couldn’t control the direction, which is why…”
The youth didn’t want to hear more and turned away with a sullen face.
“Ziyun, don't be upset; winning or losing is common in matches. Ah zheng didn’t want to lose either…”
The youth strode forward: “Winning or losing is indeed common; it doesn't matter if we lose! But we should never lose so inexplicably!”
He had scratches on his face, a result of the rough play while scrambling for the ball with Chang Miao and the others. They played fiercely, often crossing the line and disregarding any camaraderie, let alone sportsmanship—
These five periods of competition were truly thrilling and difficult.
But to hold on through to the end, only to lose because of a teammate's absurd “error”!
Seeing Wen Zheng follow him, the youth paused, suddenly turning his head to look at him, and firmly stated, “Wen Zheng, as long as you have no regrets, that’s enough!”
After giving Wen Zheng one last look, he turned and walked away.
The other two exchanged glances, unsure of what they were thinking, and the way they looked at Wen Zheng became complicated and hard to express.
After a moment of wanting to speak but holding back, they chased after the direction in which the youth had left.
Wen Zheng stood alone, his eyes filled with deep regret as he murmured, “I’m sorry…”
“Master Chang, your son is young but incredibly brave,” a middle-aged man under the pavilion said, listening to the praises around him, smiling modestly and shaking his head.
But his gaze toward the young man in the arena was filled with affirmation and appreciation.
Receiving his father’s gaze, Chang Miao’s eyes glowed with increasing pride.
He was the second son in the family; his mother was his father's second wife, and he had an older brother from his father's first marriage. However, that brother was merely a sickly child yet still favored by their father, which left Chang Miao feeling quite unbalanced.
This time, he had to win the Polo match and bring the Polo stick of the Late crown prince back home, so his father would recognize him as the most outstanding son of the Chang family!
Since the next match would start shortly, according to the rules, the yellow team needed to rest and replenish their strength after just finishing a match, so the finals would begin in fifteen minutes.
Qiao Yubai, who had been observing the yellow team all day, quietly instructed Cui Lang and the others, “...Their playstyle is too aggressive; avoid direct confrontation if possible. But remember, avoiding them doesn’t mean you should be afraid. Don’t get angry or let them disrupt your focus, or you’ll fall into their trap.”
Cui Lang scoffed, “Since I was born, I’ve never feared anyone!”
“…” Yi Hu, who was helping her young lord with shoulder massages and relaxing his muscles, secretly glanced at the young man sitting under the pavilion.
"..." While massaging her master's arms and shoulders to ease his muscles, Yi Hu quietly glanced at the young figure seated under the canopy.
The brawny youth surnamed Hu patted his chest. "I'm not afraid either—got plenty of meat on me!"
An Eastern Luo scholar nodded. "Yu Bai is right; we must remain calm and not fall into any traps."
Qiao Yubai agreed, "Exactly. As long as we stay composed, it will be them who lose control."
Watching Qiao Yubai and his three companions discussing strategy calmly, Chang Suining showed a hint of admiration as she nibbled on her fruit.
Yu Bai, that kid, has been more stable than most children since he was young. In Wu Jue's words, it's as if he was born without pride or impulsiveness—perfect for a monastic path.
She wanted to roll her eyes at the thought.
A monastic path? He should aspire to something greater.
"Ning Ning, do you think Big Brother and the others can win?" Qiao Yumian asked quietly, somewhat uneasy. "It sounded really chaotic out there earlier..."
Chang Suining responded confidently, "They'll definitely win."
She had observed that Chang Miao's Yellow Team's victory this morning was mainly due to their ruthlessness. But no matter how fierce they are, they still have to follow the rules. As long as the opposing team remains calm, the Yellow Team's aggression can only do so much damage.
And Yu Bai is known for his composure.
Furthermore, Chang Miao's win over the Red Team wasn't just about their ruthlessness; it was also due to Wen Zheng's "mistake" with the last shot.
Or rather, it wasn’t just that one shot—she'd noticed multiple "mistakes" on Wen Zheng's part.
But Yu Bai's team was unified; every move and glance revealed clarity and sincerity. They weren’t likely to repeat the same “mistakes.”
Therefore, none of these factors were cause for concern.
Now, she only worried about one other possible scenario—
With this final match, the polo tournament reached its climax.
Speculation on who would win, Yellow or Blue, buzzed throughout the audience.
"General Cui, which team do you think will win?" Under the canopy, Ming Luo turned with a smile, asking Cui Jing beside her.
A basin of ice lay at her feet, and a palace maid fanned her with a round fan, shielding her from the summer heat. Her expression and demeanor were elegant and composed.
Cui Jing looked at the field. "The Blue Team."
Ming Luo smiled. "It seems General Cui has great confidence in his brother, Lang-jun."
Cui Jing neither confirmed nor denied this.
If Cui Lang weren’t on the team, he would have had more confidence in the Blue Team led by Qiao Yubai.
"Though I also have a younger brother on the Yellow Team," Ming Luo remarked with a smile, "I agree with General Cui—I think the Blue Team will win."
Not far away, the attendant holding a folding fan casually asked, "Your Highness, what do you think?"
This young man in luxurious clothes was Li Lu, the son of the Marquis Rong.
The heat had kept him away from the morning match, and he only came in the afternoon for the finals. He loved polo but could only watch. He never missed the annual tournament at the National Academy.
"I bet the Yellow Team will win," he said.
"Chang-jia Lang-jun’s team?" The attendant whispered, "But the Blue Team has Qiao Lang-jun—"
The prince of Rong laughed softly, his tone calm. "While Qiao Lang-jun is indeed brave and wise, he is too upright."
The attendant didn't fully understand.
The afternoon drums resounded, marking the start of the final match.
"Remember, stay calm."
Before going on, Qiao Yubai reminded Cui Lang and the others.
They all nodded solemnly.
The four mounted their horses, holding their mallets, ready for action.
With the gong sounding throughout the field, hooves thundered as the ball was thrown into the air.
Chang Miao's team continued their aggressive tactics, charging recklessly. Their mallets weren't solely aimed at the ball—
But Qiao Yubai's team remained composed, avoiding direct clashes and coordinating seamlessly, using feints and sudden shifts to confuse the opposing team. Their skilled play led to frequent goals, drawing cheers and admiration from the crowd.
As this continued, the Yellow Team's players grew visibly agitated.
After Qiao Yubai scored another goal, Chang Miao's face darkened, and he shouted at his teammates, "Can't you even hit or block? Useless!"
The three, reprimanded, didn't dare look up. Their formation, already unsteady, became even more disorganized.
After three rounds, they managed to win only one by a single goal.
During the break, Cui Lang, having had his fill of water, tossed the water bottle to Yi Hu. "… One more round, and we might celebrate early!"
They had already won two rounds and only needed one more to claim the tournament victory!
"No rush," Qiao Yubai said with a smile, wiping the water from the corner of his mouth. "Let's take it slow."
Cui Lang, who was practically floating with excitement, couldn’t stay as calm as Yubai. He kept glancing toward the canopy—surely his eldest brother was already impressed, right?
After all, he had just joined the National Academy and was already about to win such a highly anticipated match. So outstanding—surely his brother would finally approve of him?
If he invited his brother to celebrate at Taitai Tower, would he agree?
He’d never had a drink with his brother before. His brother likely had a good tolerance, but he himself wasn’t lacking!
Lost in thoughts of celebrating, he envisioned himself toasting his brother, achieving the brotherly harmony he had always dreamed of.
Meanwhile, Chang Miao was feeling quite the opposite.
He berated his three teammates again. The three bickered, blaming each other and unwilling to take responsibility.
Despite a servant fanning him, Chang Miao’s face grew sweatier, his mind unsettled.
Instinctively, he looked toward the canopy where his father sat, who met his gaze with a slight frown.
Seeing his father’s look, Chang Miao shuddered, turning away, uneasy.
His father highly valued his reputation, and if he lost, his father would certainly feel disgraced.
He could not lose—that was something he knew from the moment he signed up.
Thus, he had made ample preparations.
Chang Miao glanced at his horse’s water and then frowned. "Bring me a new mallet; this one doesn’t feel right!"
This behavior of blaming the mallet when losing made the spectators nearby shake their heads, amused. "Young folks with no results, always blaming the paper, the brush, or the furniture..."
Chang Miao choked back anger, unwilling to let it out, and strengthened his resolve to win.
"We have two rounds left…" He glanced at Qiao Yubai, gritting his teeth as he instructed his teammates, "Remember, we have to win these next two rounds! Not a single goal can slip!"
After all this effort, he wasn’t about to watch someone else take the glory.
As the break ended, the two teams mounted up again.
"Hyah!"
Chang Miao shouted, spurring his horse toward Qiao Yubai.
Simultaneously, another Yellow Team player approached from behind Yubai, closing in.
"Hey! Are you playing polo or attacking people?" Cui Lang exclaimed, alarmed.
Chang Miao sneered, "Are you blind? The ball’s right here!"
A Yellow Team player struck the ball toward Qiao Yubai’s head, and Chang Miao’s three teammates converged on the spot—essentially, on Yubai.
"Shameless cowards!" Cui Lang spat. "Can’t accept a loss and now playing dirty!"
Chang Suining frowned.
This was exactly her concern—that if Chang Miao got desperate, he might resort to underhanded tactics.
Now, it seemed they aimed to remove Yubai, their biggest obstacle, at any cost.
As the three Yellow Team riders crowded around Yubai, their mallets appeared to aim for the ball, but any moment, they could "accidentally" hit him instead.
Cui Lang and the others rushed forward to assist, hoping to extricate Yubai from the danger.
Amid the chaos, Yubai did his best to avoid harm, maintaining his position while the players jostled. Horses collided, screeches filled the air, and people frequently brushed or even hit each other.
In the scramble, each team barely managed to score one goal.
"One more goal and we’re free from these rule-breakers!" shouted Cui Lang, his face cut from a mallet strike, as he held his restless, skittish horse.
On the field, composure was key. Off it, he would repay today's slights a hundredfold.
For now, though, victory came first.
With time running out, just one more goal would end their ordeal.
Chang Miao sneered. "We’ll see if you’re up to it!"
End of Chapter
The sturdy young man named Hu patted his chest: “I’m not afraid either; I’m tough!”
►►CLICK HERE FOR ADVANCE CHAPTERS◄◄
Comments
Post a Comment