Chapter 50: One Man Forms an Array

"Third Brother—both of you."
At that line Changchao below went blank.
He had thought Xie appeared to shield Shen Miao—this brother never fit common sense. Yet only Changwu had been named challenger—what did Changchao have to do with it?
The marquis was absent. Changchao looked to Changwu, whispered: "Second Brother—what is this?"
Changwu was the sharper of the two. The demand for both brothers lit anger—challenge one, say one is not enough, add Changchao—insult plain. He believed they together could not match Xie—arrogance unbearable.
Provoked, Changwu lost his usual cool. Face dark. "Elder Brother speaks full of confidence—brothers count for nothing in your eyes."
On stage Xie rolled the apple from the judge in his hands, beautiful eyes narrowing, lazy: "Correct. I do not put you in my eyes."
"You two drilled from childhood—never crossed blades with me. They say you shine—let Elder Brother see today."
The hall smelled discord in the Xie house. Lin'an's inner wars were Ming Qi gossip. The heir had always been cold—bare talk with the bastards—no public storm until now.
First time before the crowd he stripped both half-brothers' face. Talk exploded—spectacle and wager on outcome.
Shen Miao watched the easy handsome boy. Strange man—seeming reckless, yet a clear thread always pulled him. The brothers followed his nose unaware. After this match, face and lining both—nothing left.
Changwu laughed cold sudden, word by word: "A friendly bout—why not?" Eyes sharp with mixed feeling at Xie. "Since Elder Brother wills it—Third Brother joins. Only do not later cry we bullied you."
Words laid full—if they won, Xie had picked the fight; joke would be his.
Changchao hesitated—Changwu's signal—then: "Younger brothers will accompany."
Review "challenge" rounds allowed any class, any number, men or women—free rules. Xie's request broke nothing. Crooked smile—girls stared again. He teased: "Shall we sign a life-and-death pact too?"
Both bastards stiffened, color ugly. Xie yawned: "Jest only—brothers need not die."
Shen Miao's mouth curved slight—his tongue was venom. With them on stage she had no place; smoothed her skirt and left.
At the women's seats Yue and Qing kept distance. Feng Ning ran over fast. "Your foot archery—are you inheriting your father's trade?"
A ripple in her chest. The throne watched the Shen house—her peril, her elder brother's worse. In the last life one woman wrecked him half a lifetime. This house not yet split—she would guard it her way. As on stage—who slighted Shen face, she returned hundredfold.
"But those three—who wins?" Feng Ning shifted, chattered. "Young Marquis Xie is famous—we never saw him fight. Maybe rumor lies. Changwu and Changchao took first last year—two on one—surely the marquis heir suffers?"
Xie suffer? She almost laughed inside—only shook her head.
On stage Changwu said: "Two against one is hard to judge fair—we choose lance on horseback."
Now she did laugh aloud.
Xie lifted a brow. "Lance? Done."
The judge brought three chargers—the wide platform could hold a gallop if handled well. Three flower lances passed to their hands.
"Changwu and Changchao know twin lance!" Feng Ning gasped. The pair moved as one—two horses, two lances merged to one stroke—yearly first in lance. Changwu picked this hoping to crush Xie.
Shen Miao lowered her eyes. Others did not know—she did. Among memorials to the Ming Qi court one scroll recorded Xie battle formations. He was not simple—he could *form an array alone*.
Spirit Serpent Formation—one lance, one horse, one man—only three things—yet enemies broke and ran. Suited for duel with enemy commanders—and Xie had never lost.
How could two house bastards match a nation's spear? Today would be public shame.
Drummer struck once—contest open.
Changwu and Changchao met eyes—horses side by side, trained steps matched, lance patterns mirror-identical—far view like one man split in two—eerie.
The purple-clad boy raised a lazy hand. Black mount reared—galloped the opposite way. Uproar—then he laid the lance across his chest, robe purple lightning, storm wind, killing air flooding out—jade face, asura of war.