novelraw Chapter 770 - 749: Views on Love
Chapter 770 - 749: Views on Love
Fang Lingjun stood up angrily, but the pain in her ribs made her eyes redden. That intense pain almost pierced through her bones, leaving her momentarily immobilized. Fengyu ran over in small steps to support her, "Junjun, does it hurt? Where does it feel uncomfortable? Where did he hit you?"
Cold sweat trickled down Fang Lingjun’s temples, but she stubbornly shook her head. After catching her breath, she slowly straightened her posture. Dugu Jing saw that it was Fengyu, and the battle intent forged across his entire figure diminished slightly. In his eyes, Fengyu was like a weak willow swaying in the wind, the kind of woman who could be killed with a single punch.
"I lost!" Fang Lingjun’s voice trembled from the pain, yet she stubbornly refused to appear weak.
Dugu Jing said regretfully, "Admitting defeat so quickly? It seems there’s no one in Beining noble ladies who can fight. I thought you might be as skilled as Fang Chuning."
Fang Lingjun’s eyes widened in rage, almost fainting from anger. If she could fight as well as her brother, she would have been on the battlefield as a female general long ago, instead of living the life of a proper aristocratic lady in the capital.
"Are you mentally ill or what!"
"Why are you insulting people for no reason? Are you embarrassed? Can’t handle losing?" Dugu Jing responded without holding back, his attitude even more arrogant as he curled his fingers provocatively. "Come on, keep fighting! Fight until you’re convinced, body and mind!"
Fengyu, "..."
Fang Lingjun, unwilling to concede, broke free from Fengyu’s hold and was ready to get back on stage to continue the fight with Dugu Jing. However, even if she gave it her all, she was no match for him. Dugu Jing didn’t seem like someone who would go easy on her either. If anything serious were to happen, Fengyu would feel deeply regretful. She quickly stopped her, "What are you fighting for? You’re already injured. I’ve summoned the Imperial Physician. You should go and get treated first."
"Ayu, look at his smug face! He’s humiliating me!" Fang Lingjun, her eyes red with fury, fumed.
Fengyu, knowing Dugu Jing, sighed in exasperation. "He probably doesn’t mean it. Be good, go get your injuries checked first."
The pain in Fang Lingjun’s ribs near her chest and abdomen was truly excruciating. For women, this area was particularly delicate and could not afford to be neglected. Already drenched in cold sweat and pale-faced, she decided to heed Fengyu’s advice and let the Imperial Physician examine her.
The noble ladies watching the fight gained a deeper understanding of Dugu Jing’s ferocity. Each woman was horrified, thankful that Dugu Jing’s status was high enough—being Duke Wu’an—that no one would dream of arranging a marriage with him. Otherwise, everyone would avoid him like the plague.
Still regretful about not being able to continue his duel with Fang Lingjun, Dugu Jing looked unsatisfied. Fengyu suppressed her irritation, while Qiuxiang tactfully dispersed the crowd. Fengyu then invited Dugu Jing to tea. Dugu Jing was a drinker, often choosing alcohol over tea when visiting Xie Xun in the palace. But Fengyu didn’t cater to his preferences. "Why were you fighting with Junjun anyway?"
"I heard she’s the most skilled fighter among your clan’s noble ladies. My brother always encourages me to interact with her more to deepen mutual understanding and foster a connection. But I don’t understand Beining’s poetry and songs, nor do I get your Beiman culture. So I figured we’d exchange skills in riding, archery, and combat. She lost in archery, so we moved to the ring to spar more," Dugu Jing replied matter-of-factly, not feeling he did anything wrong.
Prince Jingbei had already sent people to gather information about Fang Lingjun. She was known for her straightforward and uninhibited personality, excellent relationships with others, and often rode and hunted with Lin Xiao, Zhang Boxin, and others. Her performances during autumn hunts were exceptional among clan daughters, frequently emerging as the top scorer in archery contests hosted by noble ladies. Dugu Jing thought to himself, if she was so often the best, then her riding, archery, and martial skills should be quite remarkable—after all, she was Marshal Fang’s daughter and Fang Chuning’s younger sister.
In absolute seriousness, Dugu Jing said, "I even made sure to give it my all out of respect."
Fengyu, "..."
She was at a loss for where to begin her tirade, struggling to hold back countless comments. "Who taught you that sparring with a lady in the ring requires going all out?"
"In a ring match, you must go all out. If you hold back or fake your effort, then why step into the ring at all?" Dugu Jing objected. "In our Beiman rings, we don’t distinguish between men and women—only the strong and the weak. If you’re on the ring, you’re an opponent, and you must fight with full dedication."
"Oh, right, right, right. Your rings even have death matches. Then if you punch Junjun to death, do you think Marshal Fang and Fang Chuning will demand your life as compensation?"
"She’s not made of paper. How could she end up dead so easily?"
"That one punch of yours is enough to kill someone." Fengyu cursed him several times internally, thinking him a brute. She then spoke earnestly, "Beining noble ladies are indeed skilled at riding and archery due to the inclusion of these disciplines among the six noble arts. From a young age, women practice these activities as part of their education. However, women in the inner chambers are more focused on needlework and poetry—riding and archery only serve as hobbies. Unlike military generals on the battlefield, our ladies don’t train in combat daily. And unlike the girls in your clan, who are raised on horseback, our noblewomen learn a great variety of skills. Poetry, song, chess, calligraphy—these things take precedence. Spending time practicing riding and archery for an hour each day itself is considered remarkable. Once a woman comes of age and prepares for marriage, she follows her mother to learn household management, oversee family businesses, and practice how to be a good wife and mother. Even the most talented in combat among Beining noblewomen are exceptional only in comparison to other women. They fall far short of the female generals you admire. Very few under heaven can truly warrant your all-out effort in the ring. That punch of yours will leave Junjun aching for days. Dugu Jing, you’re not building friendships or understanding; you’re sowing enmity!"
This cultural and customary difference was simply too vast!
Dugu Jing froze, his face blank, before a sudden wave of realization swept over him. "So that’s how it is. No wonder her archery was decent, but her combat skills were just superficial tricks. She couldn’t withstand three moves from me."
Fengyu, "..."
After exhausting all her persuasiveness, was this his takeaway?
"I understand now. I won’t challenge her to fights again in the future," Dugu Jing said flatly. "It was my mistake, assuming she was as skilled as Fang Chuning."
Fengyu’s face lit up with relief, finally seeing a teachable moment with happiness. "Since you injured Junjun today, Mrs. Fang will definitely be upset with you. You must apologize properly."
Dugu Jing didn’t think he had done anything wrong, having grown up with the belief that the ring demanded full effort. Back when he sparred with Lan Ningzhen, their moves were bloody, each punch landing with raw force. In Beiman, men and women often deepened their rapport through riding, archery, and fighting—relationships often grew through martial camaraderie. Yet, since Fengyu had advised him, he decided to remember it.
Fengyu said, "Recently, the Princess and the Commandery Princess have been learning Beining etiquette. I think you should do the same; it’ll help you in dealing with your future wife."
If he maintained his current "martial camaraderie" attitude, it would become problematic—people would outright fear him.
"I can’t comprehend your poetry and books," he protested.
As for chess, calligraphy, and painting—those were absolutely out of the question. His hands were meant for wielding weapons, not playing delicate arts. Though blunt, Dugu Jing stood firm in his belief. "I was born a military general, standing atop mountains and peaks. I’m a spear meant for battles, not a pen meant for poetry. If my future wife wants romantic notions of flowers and the moon and can’t accept the sharp edges of war, then she’s not the right match for me either."