Chapter 17 - The Crown Prince as Regent
Perhaps I had ridden the high of the previous night’s small victory a little too hard, for when I finally peeled my eyes open the next morning, the clock already read half-past six. I scrambled to the track, my breath hitching in the crisp morning air, only to find that Ling Xiao had already finished his regimen. I stood there on the steps, a towel draped around my neck in a manner that felt decidedly moronic, debating whether I should even bother starting.
Ling Xiao was busy wiping his chin with a towel. I couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that he was doing it specifically to provoke me. There was something infuriatingly—no, let’s be honest—distractingly attractive about the gesture. The way the fabric skimmed over the sharp, elegant line of his jaw and grazed the column of his throat while he cast a sidelong glance in my direction... if I were some starry-eyed eighteen-year-old girl, I would have been a goner right then and there.
As he ascended the steps, unfastening the pedometer from his arm, he didn't even bother to look up. "If you don't want to run, don't force yourself," he said coolly.
Run? Of course I was going to run! I hadn't hauled myself out of bed just to stand here like a decorative statue.
I marched down toward the track with grim determination. Seeing Ling Xiao head off toward the canteen, I felt a flicker of relief. With him gone, I could probably shave a couple of laps off my set without anyone being the wiser...
The very next second, my foot hit a slick patch. My heel skidded, and I landed hard on my backside right on the concrete steps. A howl, reminiscent of a pig being led to slaughter, tore through the silence of the empty plaza. I clamped my mouth shut instantly, desperate to reel the sound back in, but the damage was done. My shameful "Awoooo!" echoed and re-echoed over the training grounds, leaving me wallowing in a pit of helpless misery.
Ling Xiao stopped in his tracks. He turned back, his expression a volatile mix of suspicion and disbelief. As he watched me clutching my foot and grimacing in pain, his face seemed to say: *So, this idiot manages to trip and fall even in broad daylight.*
Eventually, his better nature—or perhaps just his sense of duty—won out. He walked back and knelt beside me. "Is it serious?"
I hissed through my teeth, the pain radiating upward. "I think... I think I dislocated it."
Ling Xiao frowned. He moved to the step below me, steadying my ankle with a firm grip before rolling up my pant leg. His fingers were cool against my skin, a sharp contrast to the throbbing heat in my joint.
"It’s fine. Nothing is out of place," he murmured after a brief examination. He looked up, his gaze locking onto mine. "It’s likely just a sprain."
I nodded, gritting my teeth as I braced my hands against the ground to stand. "Right. Anyway, let’s head to the canteen first."
"What for?"
"To eat, obviously!" I retorted. Did he expect me to finish my laps on a bum ankle?
"What you need right now is rest, not food." Ling Xiao stood up, looming over me with that signature "Iceberg" detachment. He looked down at me as if to say, *Sorry, but I’ll be enjoying breakfast alone,* before issuing a flat command: "Stay here. Sit."
The wind whistled past, cold and desolate, as I watched his retreating back. It felt like a scene out of a tragic historical drama—the hero watching his comrade abandon him on the battlefield.
Cruel as his words were, they were grounded in logic. I tried to take a couple of steps, but the sharp sting in my foot hadn't subsided in the slightest. Life was truly a series of difficult negotiations: my stomach was screaming for the canteen, while my foot was demanding a strike. As the lights began to flicker on in the dormitory windows, floor by floor, I grew restless. I stood up, determined to limp my way to breakfast, only to hear Ling Xiao’s displeased voice from behind me.
"Didn't I tell you to stay put?"
I spun around. Ling Xiao tossed something through the air. I caught it, finding a bag of steaming hot buns in my hands.
A wave of warmth surged through my chest, settling deep in my stomach. "Thanks," I muttered, sitting back down to enjoy the spoils. Ling Xiao walked over and handed me a cup of soy milk. I took a large, grateful bite of a bun, mumbling a muffled "Thanksh" around the food. As I reached for the cup, I felt a strange flutter, as if I were receiving a holy relic from a deity.
Then, Ling Xiao spoke, his voice dry and devoid of emotion. "You’re really not faking this?"
I choked, a spray of soy milk nearly erupting from my nose. Under normal circumstances, if someone had insulted my integrity like that, I would have given them a piece of my mind. It was a blatant slur against my character! But here I was, chewing on the buns he’d bought and drinking the soy milk his hand had just held. Suddenly, everything seemed forgivable. If he could suspect me of fraud and still go out of his way to buy me breakfast, what more could a man ask for?
"I swear to the heavens, I am not faking!" I declared with mock solemnity.
Ling Xiao watched my performance, noncommittal. He gestured toward my foot. "How does it feel?"
"Better after the rest," I said with a grin.
He nodded. "Finish eating, sit for a while longer, then come straight to the training hall. I’m heading over now."
"You got it!" I waved at his retreating figure, which suddenly seemed much more human than before. "Thanks again! I’ll treat you to dinner sometime!"
***
I limped my way to the training hall at a snail's pace, only to discover that Old Hu was away on business. The news hit me like a shot of adrenaline. I collapsed onto the floor in a heap of joy. "Oh, thank the gods! That demon’s training was turning me into a demon myself!"
Old Seven hissed at me from across the room. "Get up, quick!"
I stayed sprawled on the floor, waving a dismissive hand. "This young master is a decorated casualty of war. You guys have fun; I’m taking a breather."
Suddenly, Old Seven’s face appeared above me, upside down and contorted with frantic winks and nudges. "The coach is gone, but he appointed a captain to lead the session."
"Huh?" A captain? Since when did we have a captain? I was about to ask who the lucky soul was when a pair of long, familiar legs came to a halt right in front of my eyes. My heart skipped a beat. I looked up, and there was Ling Xiao, looking down at me with an imperious gaze.
Dammit! Old Hu actually put Ling Xiao in charge? I was the one who beat him!
I stared at him, mouth agape, reeling from the blow to my ego. Ling Xiao merely spared me a cursory glance before addressing the group. "Fall in."
My teammates scrambled into line faster than they ever did for Old Hu! I looked at them with disdain. *Where is your pride, you cowards? Why are you so intimidated by him?*
Ling Xiao looked down at me, his expression chillingly thin. "Do you have something to say? Perhaps that 'where you lie down is your own business'?"
I scrambled to my feet and hurried into the ranks.
As we stood in formation, I whispered to Old Seven, "When did he become the captain?" How had I missed this?
Old Seven waited until Ling Xiao had turned his back to pace the other side of the hall. "The afternoon you went out with your 'girlfriend'!"
"Why him, though?"
"Maybe because you weren't there..."
"Really?!"
Old Seven shook his head, looking at me with pity. "You actually believe that? How innocent can you be..."
My position was right in the center of the line, which meant Ling Xiao was standing directly in front of me. He was wearing a lake-blue T-shirt under a simple black jacket. On anyone else, it would have been mundane, but on him, it looked exceptionally refined. I’d seen plenty of handsome guys in my time, but none possessed Ling Xiao’s singular, elevated aura. Standing among the rest of the team, he was like a red-crowned crane among a flock of chickens, or a twin-stalked lotus rising from the mud.
Being face-to-face like this made it impossible to know where to look. Ling Xiao’s black jacket was made of a reflective material that shimmered with hints of purple under the fluorescent lights. I watched the hallucinogenic violet hues dance across his shoulders and chest. I caught a faint scent as he moved—yep, definitely Head & Shoulders shampoo.
Ling Xiao maintained his stoic, "iceberg" facade, though his words were polite enough. He explained that while the coach had put him in charge, he had no prior experience leading a team. He hoped everyone would continue their training as usual and asked for our cooperation.
The team offered a scattered, hesitant round of applause. Who would dare "cooperate" with him? They were all terrified.
I sighed inwardly. I had thought Old Hu’s absence would mean a day of relaxation. Instead, the Emperor had departed only to leave the Crown Prince as Regent.
"Qiao Mai, step out."
Ling Xiao’s voice caught me off guard. A shiver ran down my spine. My extensive experience dealing with Old Hu told me that being called out at the start of training never ended well.
Old Seven nudged me, but I refused to budge. If I was going down, I was going down with my brothers. I wouldn't be a solitary ghost.
Ling Xiao didn't lose his temper. "I’m about to lead the team in footwork drills. Do you still want to participate?"
I suddenly remembered my sprained ankle. I stepped out of line, trying to convey my heartfelt gratitude through a look, but Ling Xiao was already looking down at the training schedule Old Hu had left him. He had no intention of acknowledging my silent thanks. *What a closet romantic,* I thought. *Fine, I’ll get used to it eventually.*
Old Seven piped up, asking why I didn't have to train.
Ling Xiao closed the notebook and set it aside. "He has a special situation."
The entire team erupted into raucous laughter.
I glared at him. *You’re the one with a special situation!*
Still, a sprained ankle was no joke; I couldn't afford to push it. "Special situation" or not, I limped over to the side and sat down. Watching the others being put through their paces by Ling Xiao felt like watching a pack of dogs being trained. I couldn't resist throwing out a few jeers and jokes. Being a bystander was actually quite refreshing.
Ling Xiao glanced in my direction, and I felt a momentary prickle of nerves. To my surprise, he didn't reprimand me.
*He’s actually letting me get away with it?* I realized with a start. *Ling Xiao is a true master of the hidden agenda!* I laughed internally. *Let the others keep calling him a 'pretty boy' behind his back; they have no idea.*
With his tacit approval, I let my mouth run wild, though I kept a careful eye on Ling Xiao’s unmoving back, making sure I didn't cross his threshold.
Old Seven panted through his drills. "Captain, you can't do this! To handle a brat like Mai, you need to use the coach’s methods. Punish him!"
I felt a jolt of alarm. Was Ling Xiao playing the long game, waiting for me to lower my guard before striking?
Ling Xiao glanced back at me, then looked at Old Seven. "Whether he gets punished today is for me to decide."
Can you imagine how I felt? I was practically ascending to a higher plane of existence! I couldn't understand this humanoid AI anymore. Had he undergone a total system reboot?
Whatever the case, I was a huge fan of the new OS.
| Chinese | English | Notes |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 计步器 | Pedometer | A device for counting steps. |
| 湖蓝色 | Lake-blue | A specific shade of blue. |
| 丹顶鹤 | Red-crowned crane | A symbol of elegance and rarity. |
| 并蒂莲 | Twin-stalked lotus | A rare lotus where two flowers grow on one stalk; a metaphor for excellence or a perfect pair. |
| 训练安排 | Training schedule / regimen | The plan provided by the coach. |
| 步法 | Footwork | Essential movements in fencing. |
