Chapter 44: Dare You Kill?

Great Yanbei Hall went silent.
Her spine straight—small frame, yet force inside; every gesture said the world could be stepped on.
Cai Lin lost his tongue.
She was right. Shooting at each other—*he* bore the risk. She could not shoot; one finger off and the arrow found his skull. Cai Lin had not thought that far. Simple plan: he shoots first; Shen Miao's nature would buckle—tears, pleading—he would play with her, erase her face, serve Yue.
After that he did not think. She would be wrecked—no strength to shoot back. A woman who never drew a bow—maybe could not draw at all—joke end to end.
So he thought—missing her face. She watched him quiet—steady beyond her years—shame burned him. Her eyes were a child watching a clown: pitiful, funny.
At the age when blood runs hot, he snapped: "What wouldn't I dare? Life-and-death pact—done!"
"Ah!" Lord Cai on the men's side groaned, wanting to climb up and beat his son. Cai Lin was wild—but challenging Shen Miao? He did not fear for his boy—feared skew and harm to her. Cross Shen Xin the blunt general and not everyone walked away.
Shen Yue cried, "Fifth Sister—how can you sign such a thing? A school review—not to this point!"
"Yes—how unwise," Ren Wanyun frowned. "Hot temper—if something goes wrong?" Never mentioning Cai Lin forced the game—only Shen Miao's gamble.
Chen shook her head, soft sigh. "Too competitive."
Their "care" floated light while men leaned in with appetite.
Prince Yu stared at purple on the stage—muddy eyes bright, beast seeing prey, gaze sickening.
"Brave and brainless," Prince Zhou said. "Signed death pact—if trouble comes, even Shen Xin cannot use it in talk."
"Perhaps to guard the Shen name," Fu Xiuyi watched the stage. "No one wants family slandered."
"Still won't change truth," Prince Jing said. "Too rash. Stupid and ignorant, as they say."
Pei Lang drank tea—too impulsive, yes; Yu's words were vile—but if she loved the house she should find escape, swallow brief shame, better than public ruin.
"Father—she'll win," Minglang whispered, fist tight.
Su Yu glanced at the boy—why this fixation? Perhaps she caught his eye. Since Minglang's warning saved the house, Su Yu was gentler. He mumbled, "Yes—she'll win."
Mingfeng did not hear—he sat in the pavilion, remote, muttering, "Shen girl's bold—death pact on a review. Does she think camp stories mean army drill? Thick-headed."
He never spared words with his friend—today no echo. He turned.
Purple youth turned the crabapple in his fingers, sun on his face, tassel on dagger swaying—thinking beauty that made you sigh *unmatched son of heaven*.
"Third Brother Xie—what are you thinking?" Mingfeng asked.
Xie tucked the flower away, stood, smiled reckless. "Fun. Wager with me?"
"On what?"
He pointed at the stage, smile wind-loose. "Who wins?"
"Naturally Cai Lin." Mingfeng frowned. "Who else?"
"I bet Shen Miao."
Preparations began below.
Foot archery today held every eye. This was not review—this was life on the line.
Guangwen Hall wrote the pact—blood-red ink on white cloth, brutal bright. Shen Miao signed—brush free, as if the weight were feather.
Natural. She had signed her name countless times. Surrender for Fu Xiuyi to the Huns. Voluntary hostage to Qin. Wanyu's marriage road. Deposed crown prince… *Shen Miao* on paper was all blood; grief no one read.
Cai Lin was not so easy.
Boys love winning—but first death pact. Protected pet, not ripe. Her calm scared him more.
Pen heavy as iron—crooked strokes beside her flowing name.
Done, he blurted, "Aren't you afraid I miss on round one? If I fear round two, I could hurt you on purpose in round one."
She reached for the apple, turned, pinned him. "You think so. I don't."
"Everyone knows your foot archery is supreme. A miss from you is not accident—only intent. You would mean to kill me. I would not. Everyone knows I'm blank—miss from me is natural."
Cai Lin stared—powerless flooded up.
Yes. His miss—murder. Her miss—excuse. He could not even "slip"—the hall would see intent.
She returned his trap gift for gift.
Wrong every way.
"To avoid my shot in round two, you could finish me in round one. Pact signed—killing me is just the match result. Spit from the world—not one legal weight on you."
"I am here."
"Dare you kill?"