Meanwhile, in the capital city, thousands of miles away, the atmosphere in a corner of the Princess's martial arts training ground was subtly a mix of ice and fire.
The second princess, Xiao Mingyu, was dressed in a fiery red outfit that accentuated her slender figure. She held a light, unsharpened longsword and was vigorously slashing and thrusting at a straw target with a "heave-ho" sound. Her movements were quite professional, but her clenched teeth and flushed face made it seem as if she was venting something.
"Your Highness, lower your wrists, unify your waist and stance, and let your power originate from the ground." A clear and steady voice sounded from behind. Shen Wensong, dressed in a black training uniform, stood tall and straight like a pine tree, arms crossed, his brows slightly furrowed, his sharp gaze pointing out the shortcomings in her movements. He had just returned from patrolling the training ground when Xiao Mingyu "invited" him here under the pretext of "asking for guidance on swordsmanship."
Xiao Mingyu paused, turned around abruptly, glared at Shen Wensong with her big eyes, and said angrily, "General Shen! I am practicing swordsmanship, not chopping wood! Can you stop just standing there and talking? Come and demonstrate!" She deliberately emphasized the word "demonstrate".
Shen Wensong paused slightly, seemingly sensing that the princess was unusually irritable today. He stepped forward as instructed and took the sword Xiao Mingyu offered. The hilt still seemed to retain the slight warmth of the girl's palm. He steadied himself, clearing his mind of distractions, his gaze instantly becoming focused and concentrated. With a slight flick of his wrist, the sword flashed, its movement clean, swift, and sharp, piercing the bullseye with a sharp whooshing sound. He then executed a graceful, swift recovery, his demeanor calm and composed.
“Your Highness, please look, the key point is…” He turned around, about to explain the key points of the movement in detail, but saw that Xiao Mingyu hadn’t looked at the straw target at all. Her big eyes were bright and she was staring at him without blinking. There was no trace of annoyance on her face, only undisguised appreciation and… a kind of burning light that he couldn’t understand.
Shen Wensong felt uncomfortable under her gaze, his ears turning slightly red. The words he was about to say got stuck in his throat, and he could only repeat dryly, "...it lies in the unity of waist and stance, with power originating from the ground."
Xiao Mingyu stepped forward, almost touching him, tilting her small face up, her voice sweet and crisp, filled with obvious admiration: "General Shen is so amazing! What's the name of this move? It's much better than those instructors in the palace! Teach me!" She deliberately ignored his demonstration and explanation, focusing only on praising the result.
Startled by her sudden approach, Shen Wensong took a half-step back, his grip on his sword tightening. He said sternly, "Your Highness flatters me. This is a basic thrusting technique, not a formal one. The essence of martial arts lies in perseverance and building a solid foundation." He tried to steer the conversation back on track, "If Your Highness wishes to learn, I can demonstrate again..."
“Oh dear, how can you learn just by watching?” Xiao Mingyu interrupted him, her big eyes blinking mischievously. “General Shen, why don’t you… hold my hand and show me how to practice? Like… like when my master taught me how to hold a pen when I was little?” As she spoke, she stretched out her fair little hand, pretending to grab Shen Wensong’s wrist as he held the sword.
As if burned, Shen Wensong abruptly put his hands behind his back, his face instantly tightening, and his voice rising several decibels, carrying an unquestionable seriousness: "Your Highness! Men and women should not touch each other! This is absolutely unacceptable! Please, Your Highness, show some self-respect!" He took a step back, bowed, and bowed, his posture respectful yet distant, like an invisible ice wall erected.
Xiao Mingyu's outstretched hand froze in mid-air. Seeing his stern, righteous demeanor, her earlier feelings of admiration and affection vanished instantly. A wave of immense grievance and defeat washed over her, her bright face fell, and her eyes reddened. She stomped her foot, glaring hatefully at the unyielding "stubborn rock," her voice trembling with tears: "Shen Wensong! You...you're just a stubborn, stinking rock! A blockhead! A big idiot!"
Having said that, she didn't want to stay a second longer. She threw the sword in her hand to the ground with a clang, turned around and ran away. Her fiery red figure disappeared behind the archway of the martial arts arena, like a cloud burning with grievances and anger.
Shen Wensong remained bowed until the red stain disappeared. He slowly straightened up, looking at the lone sword on the ground, then at his hands that had unconsciously been behind his back. His handsome brows furrowed, and his deep eyes were filled with confusion and… a hint of bewilderment he himself didn't even realize. He bent down, silently picked up the sword, and unconsciously ran his fingertips over the faint, lingering warmth on the hilt.
A breeze swept across the empty training ground, swirling up a few fallen leaves. General Shen stood rooted to the spot, his posture still as straight as a spear, but his heart was stirred by the sudden intrusion and abrupt departure of that fiery red figure, creating ripples that were difficult to calm. He didn't understand. Martial arts instruction should be so serious and earnest, so why was Her Highness always… so strange?
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