Chapter 625: No Love for Red Attire, Only for Arms

The next day.

The early morning still carried a rare coolness.

At the horizon, the fish‑belly white was slowly tinting the ink‑colored clouds; the sunrise had not yet risen, but the morning wind had already brushed the training ground of the Left Martial Guard garrison.

The ancient locust trees at the field's edge were lush, rustling and casting fragmented shadows onto the compacted, even Huangtu ground.

The air mixed the faint scent of fresh grass with the cold iron smell of armor, plus a hint of warm vapor from the Warhorse's nostrils.

All around was silent, only occasional crisp clinks of Weapons striking each other came from the early‑rising militia doing warm‑up drills.

In the center of the training ground, a tall, upright figure stood out.

Ye Zhuxi wore a dark‑shining Xuan Armor, its plates glinting a cold sheen in the faint daylight.

The Guardian Heart Mirror was polished to a shine, clearly reflecting her heroic brows and eyes; the stray hair on her forehead, damp with sweat, clung to the smooth skin, yet did not diminish her dashing aura.

She wore black‑leather war boots, sat steadily on a jet‑black Warhorse, and held a wooden Chang Qiang; its shaft was smooth, worn to a warm, lustrous finish.

The horse impatiently pawed its hooves, breathing heavily, yet Ye Zhuxi merely tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharp as a hawk, landing on the three militia standing in strict formation opposite.

Those three also wore Xuan Armor, each astride a robust Warhorse, and each held the wooden horse‑spear commonly used by Great Zhou militia.

The spear shafts were long and heavy; though unsharpened, they still exuded a chilling killing intent.

The three stood shoulder to shoulder, expressions solemn, clearly unwilling to show any disrespect because their opponent was a woman.

After all, in the past months countless militia had been knocked from their horses by General Ye…

On the viewing platform at the field's edge, several figures leaned against the rail.

Chen Yan wore a silver‑trimmed military uniform, his ink‑black hair tied up with a jade crown; his handsome face stood with hands behind his back, his gaze fixed on the dark figure in the arena, a faint smile curving his lips.

Beside him stood General of Left Martial Guard Feng Muye and Dong Xuqing.

Both wore military attire; Feng Muye was towering and stern‑faced, while Dong Xuqing appeared more refined, a short whisker under his chin and eyes full of appraisal.

The morning light grew brighter, spilling onto the Huangtu of the training ground, coating it with a warm golden hue.

"General Ye, be careful!"

The three militia opposite shouted in unison, their voices cutting through the morning wind and echoing across the training ground.

As the words fell, the wooden horse‑spears in their hands were already raised high, the tips pointing at Ye Zhuxi, their Warhorses rearing together with a sharp whinny.

Their four hooves were tense, a picture of readiness to charge.

The spectators at the edge simultaneously held their breath, eyes locked on the center of the arena.

Ye Zhuxi heard the words, a bright smile curving at the corner of her lips.

She turned her wrist slightly, lifting the wooden Chang Qiang with one hand; the shaft spun a smooth circle in her palm, the movement flowing like clouds and water, with a hint of casual elegance.

"You three should be careful first!" Her voice was clear, bearing a hint of a woman's pride that would not yield to bearded men.

Before the words finished, she spurred the horse's belly hard and shouted a clear command: "Ride!"

The jet‑black Warhorse surged forward like an arrow released from a bow, its hooves striking the Huangtu with a muffled "dong dong" sound, kicking up fine dust.

Ye Zhuxi sat upright on the horse, her Chang Qiang pointing straight ahead, her whole being like a drawn sword, unstoppable in its sharpness.

Seeing this, the three militia opposite dared not hesitate, immediately urging their Warhorses to charge.

They were elite of the Left Martial Guard, perfectly coordinated; the three riders formed a "pin" shape, encircling Ye Zhuxi.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

In an instant, the wooden Chang Qiang and the horse‑spears collided hard, producing three crisp booming sounds that made eardrums tremble.

Wood shavings splashed, landing on the Huangtu, and were instantly crushed by hooves.

Ye Zhuxi's wrist stayed steady; she swept the Chang Qiang horizontally, parrying the left militia's spear, then flicked it to narrowly evade the right side's thrust, her movement as fast as lightning, without a hint of lag.

All three militia were startled in their hearts.

They had known Ye Zhuxi's spear technique was outstanding, but did not expect her riding skill and strength to be equally astonishing.

The three exchanged a glance, a flash of resolve in their eyes, then adjusted formation, no longer fighting individually but commencing a coordinated strike.

The left militia's spear thrust straight at Ye Zhuxi's waist, the right militia swept at her lower body, and the front militia raised its spear high, slashing toward her head.

Three attacks, with sharp angles, sealed off all of Ye Zhuxi's escape routes, clearly aiming for a swift finish.

On the viewing platform, Feng Muye slightly raised an eyebrow and murmured, "Fine coordinated technique!"

Dong Xuqing also nodded, "The three's seamless coordination is already top‑tier among militia."

Only Chen Yan still smiled faintly without words, his gaze fixed on Ye Zhuxi, a trace of expectation flashing in his deep eyes.

In the arena, Ye Zhuxi saw the three attacks coming; instead of panic, a fierce glint flashed in her eyes.

She inhaled deeply, then swung the wooden Chang Qiang horizontally with force, firmly blocking the front spear, while thrusting her waist and abdomen, she twisted sharply, evading the attacks from both sides.

But the three militia were evidently prepared; seeing the first strike miss, they instantly changed tactics, their wooden horse‑spears pressing down together, crushing onto Ye Zhuxi's Chang Qiang.

The spear shafts were heavy; the three forces combined, even the Warhorses were pressed down slightly, their hooves sinking an inch into the Huangtu.

The surrounding militia spectators could not help but let out a gasp, their hearts rose to their throats.

At that moment, Ye Zhuxi suddenly lifted her head and let out a clear, sharp shout that rang across the arena: "Ha!"

That shout, full of momentum, even carried a faint sound of breaking the air.

She thrust her wrist forcefully, blue veins surfacing on both arms, as if all her strength condensed onto the Chang Qiang.

In that instant she bore no trace of feminine delicacy, like a mother leopard poised to pounce, eyes fierce, aura imposing.

"Zheng—"

A harsh screech rang out, and the three spears pressing on the Chang Qiang were forcefully pushed upward by her.

The three militia were caught off guard, feeling a massive force surge from the spear shafts, shocking their palms numb, nearly causing them to lose grip on their weapons.

The Warhorse beneath them retreated repeatedly, stumbling a few steps before regaining its stance.

Ye Zhuxi seized the chance, urging her horse forward; the Chang Qiang surged like a swimming dragon into the sea, thrust straight into the front militia's chest.

The militia hurriedly raised his spear to block, but his spear was knocked away by a single thrust.

Then she turned her wrist, swept the spear shaft horizontally, striking the left‑side guard's shoulder; the guard grunted and fell from his horse.

The training ground fell silent for a moment, then erupted with thunderous cheers:

"General Ye, mighty!"

"General Ye, mighty!"

"General Ye, mighty!"

The surrounding guards shouted in unison, their deafening cries rising and falling.

They stared at the proud figure standing in the arena's center, eyes full of admiration and fervor.

On the viewing platform, Feng Muye watched, his blood boiling, eyes filled with pure admiration, and could not help but clap and exclaim, "General Ye truly lives up to being Great Zhou's only female general!"

"The spear technique is peerless!"

Beside him, Dong Xuqing nodded repeatedly, twirling his short whiskers, and praised, "Indeed! The execution is nothing short of divine!"

"That leverage move just now is something many old veterans couldn't even manage!"

Feng Muye's gaze remained fixed on Ye Zhuxi, slowly raising his thumb, his tone full of respect, "Moreover, when General Ye served as commander in Yinzhou, her command was exceptionally orderly!"

"Her troops are all elite, truly a heroine among women!"

Standing beside the two, Chen Yan watched Ye Zhuxi, who was pressing three opponents, observed the splintered wood dust clinging to her Xuan Armor as she halted her horse, and the confident, flamboyant smile on her face, and felt a sudden stir in his heart.

In a daze, he seemed to see the shadow of the loyal Ming Marquis Qin Liangyu.

Such dashing bearing, such wit and bravery, such galloping on the battlefield, not a hair less than any man.

Chen Yan smiled calmly, a soft sigh in his mind, "With Ye Zhuxi's abilities, if she gets enough opportunities later, she could become the first woman ennobled in the annals!"

The cheers had not fully subsided when the guard whose spear had been knocked off his horse sprang up, his movements so smooth that the earlier clumsiness vanished.

He staggered a few steps to the spear, clenched the shaft with both hands, and, using the warhorse's pull, hauled the heavy weapon back into his grasp.

The numbness in his palm hadn't faded, yet his knuckles had turned white from the strain.

The other two also quickly steadied themselves; the guard who fell on the left pulled the horse rein to rise, and as he flipped onto his horse, the Xuan Armor plates clanged with a rapid, crisp sound.

The guard on the right tightened the rein, held the spear horizontally before him, his panic fading, leaving only a clenched, gritty resolve.

The three exchanged glances, this time without any hesitation, urging their horses and raising their spears, they charged at Ye Zhuxi again.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

The wooden spear and the horse spear clashed more violently than before, shaking the locust‑tree leaves at the arena's edge into a fluttering fall.

Ye Zhuxi rode her horse, leaping and shifting; her spear tip at times darted like a swift serpent, piercing the three's gaps, at other times slammed down like Mount Tai, forcefully breaking their combined strike.

Her jet‑black warhorse seemed infected by its rider's fighting spirit, its hooves flying as it left deep prints in the Huangtu field.

Each turn and leap was as precise as if rehearsed thousands of times.

Sweat beads dripped densely from the three guards' temples, sliding down their cheeks, striking the Xuan Armor and spreading small dark wet stains.

Their breathing grew heavier, and their spears lost form, sustained only by sheer grit.

In the brief span of half an incense stick, amid the crisp clatter of weapons and the warhorse's whinny, time flew, and Ye Zhuxi seized an opening, thrusting her spear swiftly.

First she struck the left guard's spear shaft, numbing his arm with the shock.

Then, twisting her wrist, the spear tip barely grazed the front guard's Guardian Heart Mirror, and finally she swept horizontally, forcing the right guard to hastily rein his horse and retreat.

"Poof—"

Then three almost overlapping thuds sounded, and Ye Zhuxi's wooden spear firmly pierced the three's Xuan Armor Guardian Heart Mirrors, the force perfectly calibrated to make their blood surge without damaging muscles or bones.

The three guards simultaneously held their warhorses, chests heaving violently, gulping heavy breaths, their throats exhaling a coarse gasp, "Huff! I can't go on!"

The guard whose throat had been struck by the spear tip several times collapsed on his horse, his arm limp, the spear nearly slipping from his grasp.

He looked at Ye Zhuxi's still upright figure, gave a wry smile and replied, "I can't either!"

"This fight leaves us with no strength to retaliate at all!"

The cheers at the arena's edge gradually faded, and the watching guards, seeing the three's disheveled state, regarded it as commonplace.

After all, this scene had occurred many times over the past months…

Ye Zhuxi sheathed her spear, her brows slightly furrowed, her right hand planted the shaft on the ground, the shaft pressing the Huangtu, emitting a muted thud.

She looked at the three's exhausted appearance, her clear voice tinged with lingering regret, and declared loudly, "Men must not say they can't! Fight again!"

After speaking, she raised her voice in encouragement, "Your combined technique has good form, but the force is slightly lacking; hold on a bit longer, and you may yet find my flaw!"

The three guards, hearing this, exchanged glances, looking at the opponent seated on the horse, Xuan Armor dusted yet still radiant, Ye Zhuxi, with a wry smile on her face.

The earlier melee had drained all their strength; now their arms ached so much they could barely hold the spears, let alone find the courage to fight again.

The leading guard raised his hand, wiped the sweat from his face, and with a wry smile bowed, "General Ye, I concede!"

The other two quickly followed suit, earnestly bowing, "Please spare us!"

"It truly is not your match!"

When the words ended, the three simultaneously flipped off their horses, bowed to Ye Zhuxi with a respectful yet disheveled salute.

Ye Zhuxi looked at the three's lack of desire to fight, sighed helplessly, and sheathed her spear, "Enough!"

She turned the horse's head, the rein trembling slightly, and the jet‑black warhorse stepped steadily toward the viewing platform at the arena's edge.

Arriving before Chen Yan and the others, Ye Zhuxi tightened the rein, her gaze landing on Chen Yan standing with his hands behind his back, the corners of her brows and eyes still bearing a hint of battle spirit, she asked brightly, "General Chen, what pleasure do you find watching from the sidelines?"

"Why not step onto the field and duel with me, then?"

Chen Yan heard this, his mouth curving slightly, a light smile on his handsome face, looking at Ye Zhuxi's sweat‑damp forehead and bright eyes, he slowly began, "General Ye, your recent battle was taxing; if I now enter the fray, even if I win it would be an unchivalrous victory!"

After speaking, he paused briefly and suggested, "Perhaps we should dismount and rest for a while, recover, then you and I can fight again, what do you think?"

Ye Zhuxi heard this, lowered her head to glance at her slightly trembling wrist.

The recent battle, though she seemed relaxed, had actually drained much of her strength.

She thought briefly, then nodded, "Fine!"

As the words ended, she deftly flipped off her horse, her movements crisp and decisive, showing no hint of frailty.

He lifted his hand to remove the Xuan Armor; the crisp clatter of the armor plates revealed the silvery‑red soft armor underneath, making his posture even more upright.

Chen Yan saw this, took a water bag from a Private Soldier beside him, lifted his hand and tossed it, "Drink some water slowly!"

Ye Zhuxi reached out, caught it, and the tip of her finger felt the bag's slight coolness.

She pulled the stopper, tipped her head back and gulped, the clear water sliding down her lip corners, soaking the soft armor around her neck, yet adding a few more touches of vigor.

Chen Yan stepped forward, his gaze landing on the bright‑eyed, dust‑covered yet still radiant lady before him; his admiration deepened, and after a moment of contemplation he suddenly recited a poem: "Dashing heroic bearing, five‑foot spear; dawn's first light shines on the training ground."

"Great Zhou's sons and daughters are full of daring ambition, they love arms over red garments!"

As the verse fell, the crowd at the edge was silent for a heartbeat, then erupted in loud cheers.

Feng Muye was the first to clap, his coarse voice praising, "Well! Good poem!"

Dong Xuqing, also twirling his short mustache, brightened, nodding repeatedly in praise, "What a 'Great Zhou's sons and daughters…'"

"Truly wonderfully written!"

Standing beside the two, Peng Chong blinked, looked at Chen Yan and Ye Zhuxi, seemed thoughtful, and shouted, "Grand General, you haven't given poems to anyone for a long time, have you?"

"Didn't expect it to be General Ye, such good fortune!"

Peng Chong recalled that his own Grand General, the last time he gave a poem in the army, it was to He Ba Le…

At that time he was showing off to that guy!

Truly enviable to the extreme!

Feng Muye, hearing Peng Chong's words, flashed a sly smile in his eyes.

He immediately reached out, hooked Peng Chong's shoulder, pulled him toward himself, his chest emitting a low muffled chuckle.

He deliberately lowered his voice, his tone full of teasing playfulness, whispering into Peng Chong's ear, "Why don't you think about it—what's the relationship between those two?"

Peng Chong was first stunned, his brows slightly furrowed, as if he hadn't turned the corner yet.

But in an instant, he seemed enlightened, his eyes widening, slapping his thigh in sudden realization, and in a lowered voice replied, "I actually forgot this batch…".

Their little antics could not be hidden from those around them.

Beside Feng Muye, Dong Xuqing twirled his short mustache, a knowing smile in his eyes, his gaze darting back and forth between the two figures.

Several close soldiers exchanged a silent glance, perking up their ears, faces showing eager onlookers' excitement.

Meanwhile, Ye Zhuxi, still holding the water bag, murmured the poem again: "Dashing heroic bearing, five‑foot spear; dawn's first light shines on the training ground."

"Great Zhou's sons and daughters are full of daring ambition, they love arms over red garments!"

After reciting it once, she felt each word rang like it was written especially for her.

She couldn't help but look up at Chen Yan, admiration filling her eyes, and loudly said, "What a good poem!"

Having said that, she raised the water bag high toward Chen Yan, her tone teasing yet sincere, "Who would have thought that one day I'd be fortunate enough to receive a poem from our Great Zhou Poet Immortal!"

Chen Yan heard this, could no longer hold back, threw his head back and burst into a hearty laugh: "Hahaha!"

As the laughter faded, looking at Ye Zhuxi's star‑bright eyes, his smile sincere, he said loudly, "This is a fine work matching a hero!"

Ye Zhuxi felt a warm flush from the praise, yet her face still bore a few carefree heroic airs.

Then, pulling Chen Yan's wrist, she walked to the stone bench at the edge of the training ground and sat down with confidence.

She first pressed her lips together, as if weighing her words, lifted her gaze at Chen Yan, her tone bearing undeniable seriousness: "Grand General Chen, all the required procedures have been completed!"

Her voice paused, and in those eyes that always held sharpness, a rare urgency surfaced as she asked, "Why set our wedding date for the sixteenth of June, and not earlier?"

As soon as she spoke, Feng Muye and the others, who had been murmuring jokes, fell silent instantly.

Feng Muye quickly flashed a look to Dong Xuqing, Peng Chong and the others, the smile in his eyes unable to hide, the glance silently saying, "General Ye is impatient!"

Dong Xuqing and Peng Chong exchanged a glance, both understanding, quickly nodded, responding silently with their eyes: "It's possible!"

The two, one twirling his mustache with a light smile, the other covering his mouth laughing, feared making a sound that would disturb the pair.

Chen Yan looked at the trace of unhidden displeasure on Ye Zhuxi's face, his smile in his eyes growing ever gentler.

He smiled calmly, reached out to smooth the wind‑tousled strands on her forehead, his voice gentle yet a bit helpless, "The sixteenth of June is an auspicious date calculated for us!"

"Marriage is a major life event; these must follow protocol, not a single slip allowed!"

Ye Zhuxi heard this, her delicate brows furrowing even tighter, her tone carrying obvious complaint, "The whole marriage protocol is truly excessive!"

She has always been straightforward, most annoyed by such tedious formalities; thinking there are still ten‑odd days to wait, she felt an inexplicable restlessness.

Chen Yan took in her expression fully, feeling that this slightly petulant side made her even more vivid than her dashing battlefield bearing.

He couldn't help a light laugh, brushed her tip of the nose gently, and asked, "Why the sudden hurry?"

"In the past, you never were this impatient!"

Ye Zhuxi, with that remark exposing her feelings, flushed slightly, yet still held her neck stiff, pursed her lips, her voice lowered, tinged with grievance and a bit of irritation, "It's because of these days living at the Ye residence, those younger brothers and sisters always gossip in private…"

"They say I only know how to wield knives and sticks, clueless about qin, chess, painting, calligraphy, and lack any feminine bearing!"

As she spoke, her brows furrowed tighter, clearly taking those idle words to heart.

Chen Yan heard this, first slightly startled, then as if hearing something amusing, blinked his eyes, and couldn't help teasing: "So our General Ye also gets bothered by others' words!"