Ch 85: Transmigrated to become a Koi Husband

At the other end of the field, Gu Heng spotted the carriage he had sent to pick up Qin Zhao and said to the boys around him, “Follow the plan. Just give him a bit of a scare; don’t actually cause any trouble, understand?”

Beside him were four or five boys in their teens. One of them, mounted on a horse, teased him, “Heng-ge, why are you so afraid of him?”

“It’s not fear!” Gu Heng retorted. “He’s the top scholar selected by the magistrate, and he’ll be taking the provincial exams in August. If anything goes wrong, my dad will have my head.”

“A mere bookworm…”

The boy scoffed, glancing over just in time to see Qin Zhao helping Jing Li out of the carriage.

Jing Li was wearing his favorite pomegranate-red outer robe today, highlighting his fair skin and slender waist. He obediently let Qin Zhao lead him, but his gaze was bright with curiosity as he looked at the horses grazing by the roadside, his eyes sparkling with eagerness.

The boys on this side of the field were all momentarily captivated.

Only Gu Heng, in a daze, muttered, “His… his husband really is quite good-looking…”

Qin Zhao soon led Jing Li over to this side of the field, casting a glance at the group before focusing on Gu Heng, “You didn’t mention we were coming to a racetrack today.”

“Did… did I not?” Having been scolded by Qin Zhao several times, Gu Heng felt a bit apprehensive hearing him speak like that, but he forced himself not to show it in front of his friends. “The weather’s nice today, perfect for horse racing, so… so…”

Jing Li, ignoring Gu Heng, looked up at the boy on the horse and asked, “Are you all competing?”

The boy’s face instantly reddened, and he stammered, “C-competing… yes, we’re competing.”

“Great! We won’t hold you up then, go ahead and start.” Jing Li tugged on Qin Zhao’s sleeve, gesturing to the nearby seating area. “Those seats over there look perfect. Let’s go watch from there.”

With that, he led Qin Zhao to the viewing stands, leaving the group of boys exchanging glances.

The one Jing Li had spoken to was none other than Young Master Zhou, Zhou Qi, who had organized the outing. Watching Jing Li walk away, he urged his friends, “Get on your horses already! What are you waiting for?”

Everyone: “…”

In formal archery on horseback, riders race around the track, shooting arrows at targets placed along the course.

Within fifteen minutes, the combined total of laps completed and targets hit determines the final score.

Jing Li asked, “So can’t they just go slowly and focus on hitting the targets?”

“It’s not that easy,” Qin Zhao replied. “Each quiver only holds nine arrows, and there are a limited number of targets on the course, spaced unevenly. If they go too slowly, others will have already claimed the targets before they reach them.”

“Also, even if they hit all nine arrows, that’s only nine points; speed still determines the final ranking.”

“But focusing solely on speed isn’t an option either. The rules state that if a rider misses more than three shots, they’re disqualified.”

“That sounds really hard…” Jing Li, holding the small fish tank, looked down at the boys preparing below. “I wonder who came up with such a tricky game.”

Qin Zhao chuckled, “Years ago, the northern nomads frequently invaded the borders. Skilled in horseback archery, they gave the imperial army a hard time. Because of this, the late emperor implemented these racing rules to encourage people to strengthen their horseback archery skills, preparing them for any future needs.”

Jing Li asked, “So what about the horse betting you mentioned? Is it just betting on who’ll win?”

“Yes. Want to give it a try?”

“Definitely!”

On the field, the young men had already donned their protective gear. At the sound of the drum struck by a servant standing by, they all spurred their horses into a gallop, kicking up clouds of dust.

Jing Li watched eagerly, seeing Gu Heng’s horse leading the pack, quickly approaching the first target.

He didn’t slow down in the slightest as he pulled an arrow from his quiver.

“Gu Heng looks pretty impressive,” Jing Li commented with interest.

Qin Zhao, however, shook his head. “His stance is unstable; he won’t hit it.”

Just as he finished speaking, Gu Heng’s arrow shot forward but narrowly missed the target.

A miss.

The opportunity vanished in an instant as the target was struck by Zhou Qi, who was right behind him, shattering it into pieces.

The targets used in these archery competitions differed from those in ordinary archery—smaller and crafted from thin wooden slats, which splintered on impact. This design ensured that each target could only be hit once.

“He’s not so great after all,” Jing Li muttered, looking for other contenders. “How about that one, number three?”

Qin Zhao followed his gaze and shook his head. “He can barely stay on his horse. If he keeps up this speed, he’ll fall off.”

Sure enough, the third rider soon lost his grip on the reins and had to slow down unsteadily.

This leisure activity for young noblemen was nothing like a professional horse race. After a few laps, some of the boys were already disqualified, either from exhaustion or missing too many targets. Only Zhou Qi and Gu Heng remained seriously competing.

The boys who had fallen behind didn’t leave the track; instead, they continued to trot slowly around it.

One of the lagging boys looked at the two speeding figures ahead and asked, “Aren’t we doing something a little off?”

“I think so too…” another murmured dazedly, “What was our plan again?”

This area had originally been their main spot for an outing. Gu Heng suggested they come here not just for horse racing but to try and scare Qin Zhao.

Watching archery up close was quite dangerous, with arrows frequently missing their targets. Once the race started, they planned to intentionally shoot arrows in Qin Zhao’s direction, aiming to scare him into fleeing.

But…what was this? Were they putting on a clown show?

On the track, the two boys had become so engrossed in the competition that they’d completely forgotten the original plan.

They were now tied in laps, each having missed twice. Gu Heng had three arrows left in his quiver, while Zhou Qi only had two.

Zhou Qi was leading by one point.

Jing Li asked Qin Zhao, “Who do you think will win?”

Qin Zhao replied, “Aren’t you the one betting? Why ask me?”

Jing Li sighed, “Because all my guesses are always wrong.”

Qin Zhao was right; Jing Li truly wasn’t suited for gambling.

Somehow, no matter who he bet on, they’d be eliminated, perfectly avoiding every correct outcome.

Qin Zhao said, “You’re just biased against Gu Heng.”

Jing Li had bet on almost everyone on the field, except Gu Heng. That was because he still held a grudge over Gu Heng taking over the restaurant and dragging Qin Zhao to the gambling hall, refusing to place his bet on him.

“Fine, I’ll bet on him and see if he actually wins,” Jing Li huffed. “If he loses, you have to agree to one of my requests.”

Qin Zhao chuckled, “If you’re betting on him in the race, and he loses, that means you lose. Why should I be the one punished?”

Jing Li replied, “Because whoever I bet on always loses. If we play it straight, it’s hardly fair.”

He tapped the fish tank, “You agree with that too, don’t you?”

The little fish happily wagged its tail.

Qin Zhao: “…”

Qin Zhao sighed, “Alright, whatever you say.”

As the two spoke, the race progressed swiftly. Both Gu Heng and Zhou Qi had each fired another arrow, both hitting their targets.

Zhou Qi still held a one-point lead, but he didn’t hesitate, immediately drawing his final arrow.

The hourglass at the starting line tracked the race time, and there was now very little left. Even Jing Li, a novice, could tell what Zhou Qi intended.

Zhou Qi planned to fire his last arrow quickly, then race to complete one more lap.

That way, even if Gu Heng hit all his remaining targets, he’d still trail by one point.

Qin Zhao observed Zhou Qi’s maneuver, only shaking his head slightly.

In the next moment, as Zhou Qi released his arrow, another arrow shot from the side, colliding with his in mid-air and knocking it off course. Zhou Qi’s arrow landed on the grass, while the other arrow shattered the bullseye.

Startled, Zhou Qi instinctively pulled back on his reins, allowing Gu Heng to race past him.

The outcome was decided.

“That last shot was incredible!” Jing Li exclaimed.

He’d never been interested in sports before, and when Qin Zhao had first mentioned horse betting, he couldn’t understand the appeal.

But watching this race, he felt his heart race and his blood surge with excitement.

Jing Li’s eyes sparkled, and as Gu Heng’s final arrow hit the bullseye, he too jumped up in excitement, joining the cheers of the servants around him.

Qin Zhao: “…”

The other noble youths, who had already withdrawn to the viewing seats early: “?”

Qin Zhao pulled Jing Li back, giving his cheek a gentle pinch, “You’re this happy even though you lost?”

Jing Li blinked, belatedly remembering their bet.

“A loss is a loss. It’s just…” Jing Li paused, suddenly realizing, “You knew Gu Heng would win and tricked me into betting on him!”

Qin Zhao smiled helplessly, “Yes, I wanted you to win for once, but someone decided to change the rules last minute.”

Even after changing the rules, he still lost. Truly impressive.

Jing Li: “… Hmph.”

He looked out at the two young men, who were now riding their horses back at a leisurely pace after the race. Regardless of everything else, it had indeed been an exhilarating match for them. Both were drenched in sweat, and their horses panted heavily, visibly exhausted.

Qin Zhao’s gaze lingered on them briefly before he leaned close to Jing Li’s ear and whispered, “Don’t be upset. How about I make it up to you?”

Jing Li asked, “How are you planning to make it up?”

A hint of amusement appeared in Qin Zhao’s eyes. “I’ll show you what real horseback archery looks like.”

With that, he led Jing Li toward the track.

The two boys, although tired, were still in good spirits, laughing and chatting as they made their way back. But as soon as they noticed Qin Zhao standing by the track, their smiles froze.

… What had their original plan been again?

Qin Zhao ignored this, his tone calm and even. “You performed well. My husband enjoyed watching, so thank you.”

Jing Li fell silent for a moment, suspecting that Qin Zhao was intentionally trying to provoke the two of them.

Indeed, the boys’ faces immediately became quite a sight to behold.

Gu Heng gritted his teeth, “No need to thank us. It was nothing.”

Qin Zhao continued, “However, you both still need more practice—especially you, Gu Heng. You have a natural talent for horseback archery, but your impatience is holding you back. If you work on that, you could perform much better.”

Gu Heng, feeling even more irritated by his comment, snapped, “If you know so much, why don’t you get on a horse and show us?”

Qin Zhao, already intending to do so, nodded, “Bring me a horse.”

Gu Heng shot him a skeptical look but reluctantly gave the order to fetch a horse.

A chestnut horse was led over, snorting and stamping restlessly, clearly not the calmest of animals.

Jing Li tugged on Qin Zhao’s sleeve, “Qin Zhao, are you really going to try? This seems dangerous…”

“Don’t worry.” Qin Zhao tested the bow handed to him by a servant, then tilted his head and asked, “Do you have one that’s a bit lighter?”

Someone in the stands jeered, “A bookworm who can’t even draw a bow thinks he can do horseback archery? Mine’s lighter—let him try with that.”

Qin Zhao, unfazed, continued his preparations at a steady pace. Behind him, Zhou Qi pulled Gu Heng aside and whispered, “Didn’t you say not to take things too far? This horse was only trained a few days ago and is very temperamental. What if something goes wrong?”

“I…” Gu Heng hesitated briefly, then barked, “Who cares! I just can’t stand his smug attitude!”

“He’s getting on! He’s getting on!”

The crowd in the stands called out excitedly as Qin Zhao mounted the horse with ease.

The chestnut horse indeed had a temper, stomping its hooves forcefully in an attempt to throw off its rider. Qin Zhao tightened the reins, sitting steadily in the saddle. He patted the horse’s mane soothingly, smiling, “I need to make a good impression in front of my husband, so don’t try any tricks.”

Jing Li watched anxiously from the side, his heart pounding. The little fish in his hands had retreated to a corner of its tank, too frightened to continue watching.

After several attempts, the chestnut horse, unable to shake Qin Zhao off, finally settled down.

Qin Zhao accepted the bow and quiver from a servant.

Unlike the previous round, his quiver was filled with arrows, rather than just nine.

This was another style of horseback archery.

In a set time, the rider would complete one lap around the track, with the winner being whoever hit the most bullseyes.

Qin Zhao held the bow in his left hand, adjusting the quiver with his right, then turned to Jing Li with a smile, “Remember to keep track of my hits.”

Jing Li nodded nervously. At the signal of the drum, Qin Zhao shot forward like an arrow.

All eyes were on him—the noble youths who had been waiting to see him fail, Gu Heng standing in the crowd hoping for him to mess up, and Jing Li waiting anxiously at the starting line. Everyone was stunned.

Qin Zhao’s speed was worlds apart from the previous competition.

In almost no time, he was nearing the first bullseye.

With the change in rules, there were now more than three times the targets on the track than before.

Jing Li’s gaze was fixed on the galloping chestnut horse, watching as Qin Zhao leaned forward, released the reins with his right hand, and swiftly drew three arrows from the quiver.

Whoosh—

Three bullseyes shattered in succession!

Qin Zhao’s movements were precise and fluid, and almost as soon as the first set of arrows left his hand, he drew three more.

Twenty-one arrows, and not a single miss.

Cheers erupted even louder than before, but Jing Li’s mind went blank. For a moment, he couldn’t think of anything, his eyes fixed only on the figure racing toward him, gradually becoming clearer.

Qin Zhao rode up to Jing Li, smiling as he asked, “How many did I hit?”

Not a speck of dust clung to him, a light layer of sweat glistened on his forehead, and his expression was more vibrant than ever.

In that moment, Jing Li could almost see a version of Qin Zhao ten years younger, before the poison, brimming with pride and vitality.

Jing Li opened his mouth, only to realize he hadn’t kept track of the count.

But someone in the viewing stands provided the answer, “Twenty-three targets! That’s incredible—this must have broken the record at Jiangling’s gambling hall!”

“Forget Jiangling; there are hardly any in the capital who can surpass that!”

In this era, without the concept of seconds, they could only rely on manual counting, which wasn’t entirely precise.

Qin Zhao chuckled, casually tossing the bow into the crowd, and reached a hand out to Jing Li, “Come up.”

Jing Li grasped his hand, and with a firm pull, was lifted onto the horse.

Ignoring the shouts of the crowd around them, Qin Zhao patted the horse and rode off toward a nearby grove, taking his little husband along without a backward glance.

At the back of the crowd, Gu Heng was already dumbfounded, unable to utter a word.

Beside him, Zhou Qi muttered in disbelief, “W-where did he even come from? Are all the scholars in this town this impressive now?”

Once they were away from the noise, Jing Li finally began to regain his senses.

With the little fish tank in his arms and his back pressed against Qin Zhao’s chest, he could feel Qin Zhao’s heart pounding, strong and vibrant.

Those noble youths would never understand Jing Li’s astonishment.

He had seen this man bedridden, burning with fever, unable even to lift a water bucket. He had felt heartache and bitterness at the unfairness of fate, but today, he truly understood the frustration in Qin Zhao’s heart.

Anyone who had once possessed such abilities would never accept becoming a helpless shadow of themselves.

“Were you scared stiff?” Qin Zhao asked, holding the reins with one hand and leaning down to press a kiss to Jing Li’s forehead. “Didn’t expect your husband to be this amazing?”

Jing Li’s nose tingled with emotion, and he nodded gently.

“This isn’t even that great.” Qin Zhao, who hadn’t raced so freely in ages, was in an exceptionally good mood. “In the past, I could go twice as fast.”

This body had suffered too much from the effects of the medicine. He could remember the techniques, but his strength and reflexes were nothing like before.

But Qin Zhao was already prepared for this and didn’t feel rushed.

“In the past?”

Jing Li looked up at him, “Are you starting to remember something?”