In a horse riding competition, victory isn't determined by who rides the fastest horse. Instead, while riding at a gallop, the competitor must shoot at a target with a gun. Whoever hits the bullseye wins, and the match is decided over three rounds.
Gong Liye went first. With flawless movements, he leaped onto the horse's back, gripping the reins tightly. With a flick of his whip, the horse burst into a gallop, its hooves churning and mane flying. Gong Liye's equestrian skills were highly proficient; he sat on the horse as steady as Mount Tai. Only after circling the arena once did he draw his pistol.
Standing outside the arena, Nangong Yehen narrowed his eyes, watching him with a faint, enigmatic smile. His indifferent gaze was unfathomable, leaving others guessing his thoughts. Behind him, Huo Luan looked at the dust-choked arena and deliberately said in a light tone, "Master, Mr. Gong's riding skills are truly impressive. You mustn't lose to him later." If not for Gong Liye's bodyguards present, he would have directly told Nangong Yehen not to fall off the horse under any circumstances.
"My riding skills aren't bad either," Nangong Yehen replied calmly.
Bang!
A gunshot rang out, and the target fell to the ground. A bodyguard stepped forward to retrieve it. As he approached Nangong Yehen, Gong Liye also rode back.
"Master Nangong, Young Master Gong hit the bullseye."
The bodyguard set the target upright. The bullet had struck dead center—a beautifully precise shot. From the hole in the target, it was clear that Gong Liye's marksmanship was exceptionally accurate and swift.
Nangong Yehen squinted, his deep gaze fixed on the hole. His composed expression made Gong Liye want to laugh.
Gong Liye looked at him and said with a gentle smile, "Master Nangong, your turn."
Nangong Yehen mounted the horse. His posture was graceful, exuding an unparalleled elegance.
"Giddyup—"
He pressed his legs firmly against the horse's belly, and the black steed surged forward at a wild gallop. The rapid pace brought intense vibrations and jolts, and despite the raw aconite powder applied to his wound, he still felt pain.
Standing outside the arena, Huo Luan watched with immense worry, afraid that Nangong Yehen might slip and fall from the horse at any moment. From the villa, Chu Junyu and Nangong Yichen also watched nervously. Chu Junyu's gaze was cold, devoid of his usual innocent charm.
"I think Gong Liye deliberately chose horse riding," he said icily.
Nangong Yichen remained expressionless. "It's already fortunate he didn't suggest swimming."
Chu Junyu: "..."
"I hope Nangong wins," Nangong Yichen said.
"I hope so too," Chu Junyu replied. But his father was injured, and riding was excruciating for him.
To minimize the duration of pain, Nangong Yehen didn't circle the arena. Instead, he drew his pistol directly, aimed at the target, and fired.
Bang!
The gunshot faded, and the horse came to a halt. Huo Luan immediately rushed forward. He was only concerned about Nangong Yehen, forgetting the injury on his own leg. As he broke into a run, the wound pulled, sending a sharp pang. Thanks to the raw aconite, the pain was mild—just enough to remind him without exposing him.
Outside the arena, Gong Liye couldn't detect any sign of injury from Huo Luan. Huo Luan picked up the target and examined it. A faint smile crossed his stern face. Nangong Yehen had also hit the bullseye, winning the first round. If he hit the bullseye again in the next round, his chances of victory would be high.
Nangong Yehen rode back to Gong Liye's side. Gong Liye looked up and praised him, "Master Nangong, excellent riding and marksmanship! I truly admire you!" With that, he deliberately stared at Nangong Yehen's face.