He had originally wanted to enter cuju, but after I mentioned how muddy it could be compared to the glamour of horse hunting, he changed his mind, likely wanting to avoid losing face in front of his imagined rival, Yan Huo.
The competition judges were from the Eastern Palace of Qi Kingdom, the Second Princess of Nan Rui, and the Emperor of Xiliang. Despite claims of fairness and justice, I felt something was amiss, especially after hearing that Song Daren’s playboy son and the superficial scholar Feng Yuxi had also qualified. I suspected they were passed through hidden rules by the Eastern Palace.
In the long-standing Three Kingdoms competition, there is a custom where family members embroider a red silk scarf for participants, symbolizing blessings and expectations. Miaoyin secretly embroidered one and asked me to give it to my elder brother, with both their names on it.
My elder brother kept the scarf close to his heart and stayed up late for several consecutive days, appearing radiant and showing no signs of fatigue. An Jin watched silently, likely envious.
However, I had never been good at needlework since childhood, and if I attempted embroidery, I would surely be laughed at. So I hesitated for a long time. My mother was about to help me embroider again, but I wanted An Jin to wear a scarf made by my own hands.
My mother’s eyes lit up as she took me to Mingxi Embroidery House, owned by the wife of Su Qin’s son, Su Xi. The establishment was quite famous in Yanfeng City. Madam Su, who was acquainted with my mother, greeted us warmly and guided me in needlework. She was elegant, with a delicate face and a gentle smile, her left hand resting on her slightly protruding belly.
Mother often praised Madam Su as an example of a woman who married well. The stories of Madam Su and Su Xi’s harmonious marriage had become familiar to my sister and me. Madam Su married Su Xi at sixteen, and now, not yet five years later, she had a son and a daughter and was four months pregnant with her third child.
