Waking Up to an Imperial Marriage with My Archenemy - Chapter 7

“Greetings, Your Highness.”

The gang, who had been swaggering and blustering just a moment ago, scrambled off their horses as soon as they saw who had arrived. The coward at the very back of the group was already on his knees, knocking his head against the ground and begging for mercy.

“Princess, spare me! Princess, spare me!”

With him leading the way, several others followed suit and knelt. Since the masters were kneeling, the servants didn’t dare remain standing. In an instant, a large crowd had collapsed to the ground. Only Zhang Zihe and three other young lords who were close to him remained standing.

Although this world was a feudal society, the culture of servitude wasn’t yet so extreme. In most situations, kneeling wasn’t required; typically, lowering one’s eyes and cupping one’s hands in a respectful gesture was sufficient for someone of higher status.

However, the attitude of Zhang Zihe and his friends was anything but respectful. Coupled with the fact that they were at fault and were still stubbornly refusing to kneel, their defiance was plain for all to see.

The four of them were the core of the gang, accustomed to being arrogant and overbearing; they simply didn’t know the meaning of the word “restraint.”

Luo Fengxin’s name shook the Northern borders, but the north was far from the capital. These dandies had never personally witnessed the ferocity of the nomadic tribes. In their eyes, the sixteen tribes were just uncivilized monkeys. The capital was crawling with barbarians who bowed and scraped before them, so what was the big deal?

Even if she had once been the Commander-in-Chief of the Northern Army, that was in the past. Everyone knew who held the real power in court now. Princess Leping had long since lost her influence.

Qiao Wan sat in the carriage, peeking through a gap in the curtain. She knew a blockhead like Zhang Zihe would take the bait.

Zhang Zihe kept his neck stiff, refusing to admit any wrongdoing. He was the leader of this group; if he turned tail now, who would listen to him in the future?

“Don’t try to intimidate me. Since when did our dynasty’s laws have such a rule? Even if it did, so what? My family holds a Gold Medal for Death Exemption granted by the Founder Emperor himself.”

Speaking of his family’s glory, Zhang Zihe was practically preening. Luo Fengxin waited until he had finished recounting his ancestors’ achievements before asking calmly, “Since your ancestors were so illustrious, may I ask what official positions you and your father currently hold in court?”

Zhang Zihe was stunned into silence.

Like the Duke of Ning’s household, the line of the Marquis of Jingnan had declined during the late Emperor’s reign. However, they didn’t have the Zheng family’s luck. Once the Zhengs latched onto the Chens, they saw a resurgence, while Zhang Zihe and his father were currently stuck with embarrassing, low-level sinecures with zero actual power.

“My eldest cousin is the Vice Minister of War, my second cousin is the Commander of the Imperial Guard.” Unable to brag about his own rank, Zhang Zihe once again trotted out his cousins. His status as leader of these playboys relied entirely on the Zheng family’s power, and mentioning them gave him a fresh burst of confidence.

“Ah, the family of the Duke of Ning.” Luo Fengxin said nonchalantly. “I haven’t been in the capital for long, but I’ve heard the Duke of Ning’s family didn’t change their luck through talent, but by acting as dogs for the Empress Dowager and Grand Preceptor Chen.”

“Lies!” Zhang Zihe interrupted her, fuming with rage.

“What lies? Even though your Chen-family cousin-in-law gave your cousin such a massive green hat, doesn’t your cousin still have to treat her like a goddess?” Luo Fengxin remained unhurried, speaking in that same airy, detached tone.

Over the years, Qiao Wan had been driven to the point of spitting blood by that very tone of Luo Fengxin’s. It was rare to see her use it to dismantle someone else today. Looking at Zhang Zihe’s face, which had turned the color of a pig’s liver, Qiao Wan felt a surge of genuine sympathy for him.

Brother, I feel you. I’ve suffered like this for years!

Of course, her sympathy was purely superficial. As the mastermind behind this farce, Qiao Wan was ecstatic. She even wanted to cheer Luo Fengxin on.

Luo Fengxin did not disappoint. Seeing Zhang Zihe speechless, she twisted the knife: “Oh, I suppose I was wrong. How could I say the Duke of Ning’s family has no talent? Being a good dog is a talent in itself, isn’t it?”

The surrounding commoners burst into laughter. They had been oppressed by these noble houses for years, harboring anger they never dared voice. Today, the Princess had finally given them a taste of vengeance.

Zhang Zihe was blinded by fury at the laughter. These peasants! Usually, they don’t dare utter a peep, and now they dare mock me!

He instinctively tried to lash them with his whip, only to realize that the other end was still firmly in Luo Fengxin’s hand.

“So what? Marrying a woman of poor character in exchange for wealth and status—many people would beg for that chance!” In his rage, Zhang Zihe began to speak recklessly, pointing the handle of his whip at Luo Fengxin. “Even His Majesty shows my cousins’ family great respect. I will certainly report your words today to him!”

“My Imperial Brother respects the Duke of Ning out of courtesy for the Empress Dowager and Grand Preceptor Chen.” Luo Fengxin gave a contemptuous smile. “As for you lot, you’re just a pack of stray mutts. You actually think you’re important? I don’t see any of the actual Chen scions hanging around with you.”

The question was savage, poking exactly where it hurt most. Had she not needed to stay hidden, Qiao Wan would have loved to jump out and buy a bag of melon seeds from a nearby vendor to snack on while she watched the show.

Luo Fengxin’s words accurately struck the insecurities of these playboys. In the capital, even dandyism had its hierarchy. The Chens were the most powerful, so their children were first-class. The second class consisted of families like the Zhengs who were close to the Chens.

Zhang Zihe and his group—those with declining fortunes, empty titles, and no real power were strictly third-class. The true Chen elites wouldn’t be caught dead socializing with them.

In the middle of a busy intersection with so many commoners watching, a young master like Zhang Zihe valued face above all else. Being humiliated repeatedly in public was more than he could bear. However, one of his companions was slightly more composed. He pulled Zhang Zihe back and asked Luo Fengxin, “We are unaware of how we have offended the Princess in the past to warrant you coming here specifically to cause us trouble?”

If Luo Fengxin were simply annoyed by the road being blocked, she could have had her men speak to the servants clearing the path. Those servants might be crude, but they were sharp enough to know that you don’t block a Princess.

Luo Fengxin hadn’t said a word; her carriage had simply charged out the moment they were about to pass. Any way one looked at it, it was intentional.

“You think yourselves worthy of me seeking you out specifically? I saw you galloping in the market in violation of the law. What if you had trampled the citizens?” Luo Fengxin rebuked them sternly.

“Trampled or not, they’re just peasants. Even if they’re killed, it’s just a matter of paying some compensation. I have plenty of money.” Zhang Zihe pushed aside the friend who had been holding him back.

Luo Fengxin couldn’t be bothered to waste more words. She snatched his horse and took his whip. She had laid enough groundwork; it was time for the final spark.

Zhang Zihe suddenly panicked. “You, what are you going to do?”

Luo Fengxin vaulted onto the horse, looking down at him from above. Zhang Zihe was terrified by her gaze, which viewed him as nothing more than an ant. He was scared to the core, but his mouth remained stubborn: “Don’t do anything reckless, I’m warning you! My family has the Gold Medal for Death Exemption, my uncle is the Duke of Ning, my eldest cousin is the Vice Minister of War, my second cousin is the Commander of the Imperial Guard.”

“I’ll give your own words back to you, you’re just the son of a Marquis. If you’re trampled to death, it’s just a matter of paying your father some money and offering an apology.” Luo Fengxin pulled the reins, backing the horse away a bit.

She called out to the other playboys, “This Princess is doing Heaven’s work today. If you don’t want to die, you’d better get lost.”

With that, she leaned down and stroked the horse’s cheek, then straightened up and swung the whip. The horse let out a shrill neigh and charged straight for Zhang Zihe.

These playboys were “best brothers” when they were bullying others together, but when faced with a real threat to their lives, not one was willing to die for a friend. They scrambled to pull their horses to the side, terrified of being hit by the Princess’s lash.

The crowd cleared in an instant. Zhang Zihe tried to run, but his legs had turned to jelly at the sight of the charging woman and beast. He collapsed on his backside, unable to move.

He had only obtained this horse through his cousins’ connections. It was a magnificent steed—tall, powerful, and extremely fast. It was also notoriously temperamental; when he first got it, it had kicked several grooms to death.

After half a year of struggle, the horse had finally become somewhat docile. Only then did he dare ride it out to show off. Now that the horse was in Luo Fengxin’s hands, it looked savage again, its eyes gleaming with wild ferocity.

Zhang Zihe watched the massive silhouette growing larger, those powerful hooves coming closer. The memory of the grooms’ gruesome deaths from six months ago flashed before his eyes.

This horse was an indiscriminate killer when it went wild. It really would trample him to death!

The distance was short, and in the blink of an eye, the horse was upon him. Zhang Zihe saw the hooves hovering over his head, the black iron shoes right before his eyes. A whip-shadow, accompanied by a sharp crack of wind, lashed toward his face, followed by a violent explosion of sound near his ear.

Zhang Zihe felt a sudden warmth in his crotch, and then everything went black.

He was woken up by his own servants. As soon as he opened his eyes, he heard waves of laughter coming from all directions. A pungent stench of waste radiated from his lower half.

His ears were ringing; Zhang Zihe couldn’t distinguish exactly what people were saying, but the waves of mocking laughter were piercingly clear.

“My uncle is the Duke of Ning, my eldest cousin is the Vice Minister of War, my second cousin is the Commander of the Imperial Guard.” Zhang Zihe lay limp, his voice a repetitive mumble. “You humiliated me like this today, they won’t let you get away with it.”

“Is that so?” Luo Fengxin stepped on his shoulder, patting his face with the whip. “Then go back and tell your uncle and your cousins that you were scared out of your wits by Princess Leping in the middle of the market, and that you soiled yourself in front of everyone. Let’s see what they can do to me then.”