Chapter 162: Three Times Will Suffice

Everyone looked toward Jiang Lan, only to find her acting as if she hadn't heard a thing. She tried three consecutive pitch-pot arrows in a row; either they were too light and fell far short of the vessel, or they sailed right past the boundary. On her very last attempt, she finally managed to hit the vase, but didn't even graze the rim of the opening.

Standing nearby, Xue Mingfang covered his face. "Second Brother, perhaps you should step up instead. It's so rare for Younger Brother Lan to come out and enjoy himself—let's not scare him into never daring to venture out again."

Xue Mingfang was extremely worried. Judging by his cousin's performance, this was bound to end in a disastrous loss of arrows and a thoroughly humiliating defeat.

Xue Ming睿 shook his part. "It is thoroughly improper to switch people at this juncture. The only course left to us now is to fight."

Considering Jiang Lan's technique during those three attempts, Xue Mingfang held virtually no hope. "I had better go to the money shop and fetch some silver. We must ensure our cousin doesn't lose face entirely while also having to pay out a fortune."

Xue Minghao also felt deeply apologetic; had it not been for his own impulsiveness, his cousin would never have been pushed into this position.

"Third Brother, I have some savings as well. I'll give them to you later so you can hand them over to our cousin together."

Xue Mingfang nodded, then sought to comfort Xue Minghao. "Sixth Brother, do not blame yourself. You were merely provoked because Shen Kai spoke ill of our cousin."

"I should have exercised more patience," Xue Minghao murmured, lowering his head.

"Nonsense! What is there to endure? We shall simply bludgeon him to death with a stack of bank notes!"

"..." Xue Minghao felt as though his jaw would refuse to close.

Zhao Yang, observing from the sidelines, felt as though he had stumbled upon a whole new world. His eyes lit up—so pitch-pot could be played in such a fashion!

The spectators harbored a myriad of differing mentalities. While many were simply there to watch the spectacle unfold, the members of the Xue family were entirely on tenterhooks for Jiang Lan's sake.

News had also reached the inner courtyard reserved for female guests. Upon hearing the reports, the matriarch, Lady Wang, furrowed her brow and spoke in a low voice to her daughter-in-law, Madam Gu. "Which household does this Shen family belong to? Send someone over to have a word with them and prevent their junior scions from acting so outrageously arrogant. If Lan'er loses face, it reflects poorly upon us all."

Though the matriarch spoke with a degree of reserve, Madam Gu understood her underlying meaning implicitly. "You go and make the arrangements. If that side brings unhappiness upon my maternal grandson, I shall be displeased as well."

"Very well, Mother," Madam Gu nodded, then excused herself from the banquet table.

Since the news had already reached the ears of the matriarch, it naturally began circulating widely among the female guests present.

Jiang Si, seated beside Madam Zhou of the second branch, could not help but knit her brows in deep anxiety.

"Do not fret, the matriarch has stepped in," Madam Zhou consoled her, before steering the conversation elsewhere. "Does Lan'er usually play this at home? What is his proficiency like?"

Jiang Si shook her head. "My brother has never played before, let alone mastered any technique."

Madam Zhou froze. Just how fearless could this Lan'er possibly be? Pitch-pot was fundamentally an exercise of scholarly etiquette; gambling a modest amount of wealth for sport was harmless enough. Yet today, he had stepped forward to represent the host family's honor. Should he suffer defeat, both his reputation and dignity would be completely forfeit.

Madam Zhou let out a sigh. "Let us merely hope the Shen family's appetite for victory is not too unsightly."

Jiang Si was racked with anxiety. Had it been possible, she would have gone to her brother's aid. As it stood, however, she could only lurk here, catching stray tidbits of news while consumed by a helpless sense of dread.

Meanwhile, out on the grounds, having completed her three preliminary trial throws, Jiang Lan addressed Shen Kai, "I am finished testing."

Shen Kai was astonished, waving a hand dismissively. "I am in no rush. You have only tried three times—perhaps you would care to try a few more?"

Jiang Lan shook her head. "There is no need. Three times is quite sufficient."

An uproar swept through the entire gathering. "Is the Heir of the Duke of Wei not being entirely too arrogant? Three times is sufficient? Does he fancy himself possessed of divine talent?"

Shen Kai had no desire to be excessively aggressive. To compete in pitch-pot against someone who had never played before yet acted with such haughty self-assurance would yield him no glory even in victory, especially since he had just caught his cousin flashing him a meaningful glance.

"Since the Heir has never played before, there is truly no necessity for us to proceed with this contest."

Jiang Lan shook her head. "We may certainly proceed. There is no need for superfluous words. This way, I can hardly be accused of bullying the inexperienced. Three times is plenty; any more would lack fairness."

This pushed the atmosphere of the scene straight to its peak.

"Did I hear correctly? Was the Heir of the Duke of Wei issuing a direct provocation just now?"

"You heard correctly. I heard it as well."

Even those standing atop the artificial rockery pavilion, peering down at the scene, were slightly taken aback.

Initially, Shen Kai had felt somewhat resentful, believing the Xue estate was using its power to oppress others. But now that Jiang Lan of the Duke of Wei's estate was speaking with such unbridled bravado, he felt entirely justified in dropping all restraint and exerting his utmost strength.

"Since you insist upon this course, Heir, do not blame me for bullying you later. Hahaha!"

Jiang Lan nodded. "Victory and defeat rest entirely upon one's own skill; there is no need for blame, nor any question of bullying."

"Very well! Once you lose, do not go crying to Her Ladyship," Shen Kai remarked half-jokingly.

"Understood." Jiang Lan furrowed her brow, glanced briefly at Shen Kai beside her, and gave a solemn, deadpan reply.

The two men each took hold of an arrow. While Jiang Lan stood studying her arrow for a moment, Shen Kai stepped forward to take the first turn. "Ordinarily, according to the etiquette of pitch-pot, the host should initiate the throws. Since you are playing on behalf of your sixth cousin, Heir, you naturally shoulder the responsibilities of the host. However, considering that this may be your very first time playing, I shall make bold to cast the first brick to attract jade."

Jiang Lan nodded in acknowledgment and offered her thanks. "Please."

Watching Shen Kai execute a smooth, effortless cast that sent his arrow plunging vertically straight into the pot, all the onlookers gasped in exclamation.

The game official called out, "First strike recorded—Master Shen scores ten points!"

"Master Shen is truly formidable!"

"Master Shen has borne the reputation of a divine archer since childhood. I fear it looks grim for the Heir of the Duke of Wei."

Nearby, Xue Ming睿 and his brothers were burning with anxiety, whereas Zhao Yang had completely thrown caution to the wind. Judging by the current momentum, regardless of whether Jiang Lan won or lost, the disgrace of his own earlier defeat would surely be overshadowed. His objective had already been achieved; beside himself with excitement, he began waving his arms and openly shouting encouragement for Jiang Lan, beating the drums and building up his momentum with gusto.

Jiang Lan, however, appeared as though her ears were plugged, entirely immune to any external interference. Watching Shen Kai finish his turn, she raised her own arrow with profound concentration.

The identical motion, the identical technique, executed in one fluid, unbroken movement—and the arrow flew straight into the vessel.

"It went in!" The spectators outside the ring rubbed their eyes in disbelief, a wave of shock rippling through the crowd. "Did I see that correctly? The Heir actually made the shot?"

The Xue brothers were equally incredulous. "Second Brother, Second Brother, pinch me! Am I dreaming?"

"Hiss~" Xue Mingfang drew in a sharp breath. "Ow, ow, ow! It's real, Second Brother, our cousin actually hit the target!"

Xue Mingshi and Xue Minghao were beside themselves with excitement as well, though Xue Ming睿 quickly intervened. "Calm yourselves! This is merely the first round, and we are currently tied. We must keep our composure!"

"Understood!"

The Xue brothers held their breath, fixing their gazes upon their cousin Jiang Lan, who now stood in the center of the arena looking like an entirely different person—exceedingly calm and collected.

Zhao Yang chimed in loudly to remind the game official, who was still standing there in a daze, "Hey, hey, hey! Record the points, man!"

Only then did the official snap back to his senses, hurriedly calling out, "Oh, oh, oh! First strike recorded—the Heir scores ten points!"

Upon hearing this single shout, a servant stationed at the outer perimeter hurriedly sprinted back toward the inner courtyard to relay the message.

Back in the inner courtyard, the singing and dancing had long since ceased. Everyone remained seated in their places, listening as the Xue estate servants ran back in batches from the front grounds to deliver the updates.

"Report! The Heir has landed his first strike—ten points recorded!"

The matriarch clapped her hands together, murmuring a quiet word of approval. "Splendid!" She then maintained a composed, inscrutable expression as she scanned the various ladies and young misses seated before her, each wearing vastly different expressions.

~~

The other onlookers present were astonished, and Shen Kai doubly so. What shocked him even more was that the form and technique just displayed felt hauntingly familiar—as though it had been thrown from his own hand. No, it was even closer to perfection than anything he could produce.