Evil-Natured Husband, Don't Tease!

Chapter 97



Chapter 97

Her aiming posture was serious and cool, and at this moment Song Jiuyue caught a glimpse of the cold light that glinted in her eyes. Frowning, she watched Song Wuyou quietly. Why does the current her differ so much from just now? Why does she feel a strong pressure coming from her?


Song Wuyou aimed towards the distant target, ready to release her arrow. Her standing pose, the way she pulled back at the bow string… it was a hundred, a thousand times more skilled than what she had shown earlier.


Song Jiumei sneered contemptuously. Look at her, see, she's putting on a show again.


One minute later, the arrow was still in Song Wuyou's hand.


Song Jiumei was getting impatient, "Shoot quickly. Don't tell me you don't dare ah?!"


Song Wuyou reminiscenced. She remembered the first time she shot an arrow in her past life, when she was ten. That heartless man and she were childhood sweethearts. He liked to play with bows and arrows, always claiming he wanted to be a mighty general when he grew up.


Song Wuyou knew since she was little that he would join the army, so, in order to be with him, what he liked, she liked. He learned to shoot with bows and arrows, she followed. He learned horse riding, she followed. He learned martial arts and swordplay, she followed…


Her archery skills were taught by him and his father. At that time, she was ten and he was thirteen. Every time he taught her new skills, he guided her like a big brother, serious but not strict. Their childhood together was a beautiful time. Even the eight years of war was a good memory… until he won his place in the world. Having his own imperial palace, that was when everything started to change—


Affected by these memories, her eyes dimmed and a tingling burst of pain came from deep within her heart.


She blinked suddenly and her back stiffened. Was she out of her mind to mistake the target in front as that heartless man? She had the impulse to take his life with the arrow in her hands, then let's see if he dares to judge her guilty!


"That is a purebred horse, gentle and fast. I named it Thunderbolt Knight." Mu Gu smiled and bragged.


They have each chosen a horse and were on their way back to the archery range where Song Wuyou was. Gu Yanhao's reaction was light as a breeze, "I'll still use Blackie." Although Blackie was kept at Mu Gu's ranch, Gu Yanhao would ride him every time he came over.


"Fine, I'll ride my Thunderbolt Knight to compete with you and Blackie. We'll see which one is the real thunderbolt."


….


"Why hasn't she shot yet?" Song Jiumei was so anxious that she was ready to stomp her feet. It's inevitable. She's going to lose; is delaying it of any use?


Song Wuyou did not hear what Song Jiumei was whining about, however, Mu Gu and Gu Yanhao's conversation drifted to her ears instead. Her angle shifted slightly in their direction. The two silhouettes in riding gear were a blinding sight to behold.


Knowing he would have to do the penalty ten laps naked around the archery range, Mu Gu made a trip back to the chalet, bringing back a white scarf so he could wrap it around his waist later.


At the moment, the white scarf hung around Gu Yanhao's shoulders. When the wind blew, the white scarf fluttered like a dancer's sleeves.


Familiar face, familiar figure, familiar coldness, made the melancholy Song Wuyou once again mistaken him to be that heartless man as faces and thoughts overlapped. When the white scarf obscured Gu Yanhao's face, it brought Song Wuyou back to the scene in the Cold Palace where a eunuch was holding a three-foot silk before her. Long white silk was neatly folded in the eunuch's hands while Eunuch Chu was reading out the Imperial Decree.


When that ended, she was despondent as she looked at he who came with Eunuch Chu. There was only icy coldness in his eyes as he said to her that he wanted to send her on her way personally, judging her crime.


By that point, her heart had already numbed from the pain. There was no resistance left in her, therefore, she was not afraid of dying.


What was left? Only despair, pain, and sorrow…


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Translator : Woodear


Editor : Ocelot

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