Chapter 4 — The Tigress Who Craved Mantou

She gathered the folds of her dress and descended the raised platform, gripping my arm tightly. Suppressing her fury, she lowered her voice to a harsh whisper: "Have I not told you time and again? Vulnerability is meant to elicit affection, not to serve as a stepping stone for others to trample upon your head. I also said that if someone throws filth at you, you are not to stand there like a fool and let them finish."

I blinked, confused. "Did you really say that, Mother?"

She inhaled a long, steadying breath. "I spoke of it for half an hour!"

"I only heard the beginning part."

"And why is that?"

"I was too hungry."

She squeezed her eyes shut, clearly battling the urge to throttle me right there on the spot. The noble ladies nearby heard this and shook with suppressed laughter. My mother lived her entire life for the sake of appearances; in this moment, her dignity lay shattered on the ground. She looked at me, a mixture of exasperation and disappointment in her eyes.

"I told you to eat sparingly only because I feared you might lift a ceremonial tripod and terrify everyone. I did not tell you to play the shrinking violet while people shoved you around!"

I added softly, "Yesterday, you said quails were quite adorable."

"Shut your mouth."

I did as I was told. My mother turned to face Xie Hanyan, a smile playing on her lips that was as dignified as it was chilling. "Miss Xie, is it not the truth that you wished to see some real skill? Then watch closely." She turned her head and commanded her servant: "Go, fetch some food."

My eyes lit up. "Could I have some steamed buns?"

Madam Gu gritted her teeth. "Bring her five."

When the five white, steaming buns were presented, the stares from the surrounding crowd were even more bewildered than they had been during the earlier inspection of the horses. In the capital, noble ladies were expected to slice a pastry into four delicate pieces and spend a quarter-hour sipping a single bowl of tea. Watching me clutch two buns in my hands and gnaw on them with such vigor was a rare sight indeed. My mother stood beside me, her expression resigned.

"Slow down," she cautioned.

I nodded, then promptly finished one in three bites. Xie Hanyan sat atop her horse, her gaze shifting from disdain to visible unease. Pei Zhihang, however, remained arrogant. "Do you think inhaling a few buns will allow you to turn the tides? Lin Wandang, do not think that acting like a simpleton can cover up what happened just now."

My mouth was stuffed with bread, so I mumbled, "Wait until I swallow, I cannot understand a word you're saying." Laughter rippled through the sidelines again, though this time, it was not entirely directed at me. A few of the daughters from military families even offered me discreet thumbs-up gestures. With the five buns settled in my stomach, I felt like a new person. My vision cleared, my legs stopped trembling, and even the sound of the wind felt crisp and invigorating.

I swung onto my horse. The white steed, having waited far too long, pawed at the earth, eager to bolt. The gong sounded. Xie Hanyan dug her heels in, taking the lead toward the bridge. Pei Zhihang and several other young noblemen immediately converged, forming a living wall. It was clear they had conspired to stop me so that the goal would fall directly into the path of Xie Hanyan’s mallet.

But this time, I did not hold back. My white horse surged forward like a ghost. The wind whistled in my ears as the crowd gasped in unison. Pei Zhihang blocked the path ahead, his expression faltering; perhaps he had not expected me to actually charge. I was equally surprised that he did not move. Three paces away, I pulled the reins, the horse reared, and we leaped past his mount, missing his head by a fraction. His horse panicked, spinning in place, and Pei nearly tumbled from the saddle.

I surged past him. The second man swung his mallet to block my path, but I flicked my wrist, pinning his shaft downward and vaulting my own mallet over his to strike the ball. It soared into the air. I chased after it. Xie Hanyan grew frantic and made an abrupt turn; her horsemanship was not as refined as she pretended. She cut the corner too sharply, lost her balance, and wobbled in the saddle.

I did not stop. Two more noblemen flanked me, forming the final defensive line. I glanced at the goal—it was distant, but within reach. In the North, during downtime at the camp, my father’s scouts would hang a goatskin ball from a flagpole a hundred paces away for me to practice my aim. Father always said that a girl must be precise. I never missed.

I gripped my mallet tightly. As the polo ball bounced off the turf, I leaned low and swung. *Crack.* The crimson-painted ball skimmed the grass, whistling through the narrow gap between the two horses. The speed was immense. No one could intercept it. It tore straight toward the goal frame. The guards didn't even have time to raise their mallets. The ball slammed into the frame, shaking the wooden structure so violently that the silk ribbons tied to it snapped and rained down upon the field.

The entire arena fell into a deathly silence. I reined in my horse and turned to look at Xie Hanyan.

"This time, I didn't change the horse, didn't treat any injuries, and I have eaten my fill," I said to her. "Is there anything else you wish to say?"

Xie Hanyan’s face was as white as paper. Pei Zhihang finally recovered from his shock, his embarrassment turning into rage. "You scored a single goal, what are you so proud of? Who knows if you were secretly practicing behind our backs—"

Before he could finish, a deep, resonant voice echoed from behind the raised platform.

"Secretly practicing?"

I knew that voice all too well. My father had arrived.

As soon as my father appeared, the young noblemen clamped their mouths shut. No matter how adept they were at reciting poetry or admiring flowers, few dared to challenge the gaze of a Great General who had carved his path through mountains of corpses and seas of blood.