Echoes of My Heart Throughout the Court

After disembarking to rest, the officials rode horses to the inn, except for the emperor, who traveled in a carriage. However, as soon as Xu Yanmiao’s inner thoughts emerged, both civil and military officials swiftly dismounted their horses and instinctively lowered their heads to inspect their nether regions.

To outsiders, this scene looked extremely bizarre. Not only did everyone move in unison, but their expressions were oddly uniform—shock, fear, and confusion mixed together, with their eyes opened wide to the exact same degree.

The civil officials fared slightly better. While they were required to practice the six arts of a gentleman, they hadn’t spent as much time on horseback as the military officials during the early days of empire-building.

The military officials, however, were immediately transported back to their training days, vividly recalling the fiery pain from a certain sensitive area when first learning to ride.

Although experienced riders knew to lift their hips and align with the horse’s rhythm rather than sitting fully on the saddle, learning this technique took time. Until they mastered it, their backsides and nether regions endured countless painful impacts with the saddle.

[Back then, learning to ride was so grueling… Being a soldier is really inhuman. I couldn’t get the hang of lifting my hips and tightening my core at first. My butt stayed glued to the saddle, and every time the horse leaped, I bounced up and slammed back down… It hurt so much! Too much!]

[And when we started, the old emperor’s forces were makeshift at best. Those were chaotic times, and systematic training was out of the question. We just had to figure it out on our own. Ugh—the pain! My backside and… other parts must have slammed into that saddle at least a thousand times, if not more.]

The military officials couldn’t hold back their reactions any longer, covering their faces with their hands and grimacing in collective agony.

It really had been that painful.

Even the emperor couldn’t help but wince, drawing a sharp breath through his teeth.

Learning to ride back then had been no easier for him, even with a tutor. By the end of the day, his backside felt like it had been shaken loose, and it took him a month of near-constant discomfort before he could manage to lift his hips and align with the horse’s motion consistently.

That first month? Every trip to the privy had felt like torture.

—Which brought up an entirely unrelated but baffling question: given how painful riding could be, why did some people in this world still insist on things like sworn brotherhoods? Did they not feel the pain?!

Meanwhile, the military officials had begun muttering among themselves.

“Does this mean those Xiangyang bandits we fought back then didn’t have to deal with this problem? Their cavalry came from wealthy families, and those young masters trained on horseback from childhood. They didn’t have to worry about… injuries down there. By the time they perfected their riding techniques, they were already immune to this sort of pain.”

“Good heavens! No wonder! That explains why their cavalry was always so fearless back then!”

“Right? And they even padded their saddles with meat to prevent the horses’ backs from getting chafed. Meat! We only had leather covers. After a long march, their meat-padded saddles would be fully cooked, and they’d even eat it afterward…”

The more they talked, the angrier they became.

“Enough! The more I think about it, the more infuriated I get!”

Grinding their teeth, the military officials wished they could dig up their old enemies and lash out at them again.

“…But that’s all in the past,” someone finally said, changing the subject. “What I really want to know now is… can this sort of thing be fixed?”@@novelbin@@

The room fell silent.

Everyone wanted to know, but no one dared to ask Xu Yanmiao directly, let alone expect a divine beast like Bai Ze to have answers for such a personal matter.

Xu Yanmiao turned to the Ministry of War official beside him, startled by the redness in the man’s eyes.

“What’s wrong with you?”

The official was prone to tearing up easily. In times of emotional distress, his eyes would redden, and if things got worse, he’d even start crying outright.

Now, he was crying uncontrollably, sniffling as he spoke. “Xu Lang! I… I overheard the military officials talking about how horseback riding can lead to… problems down there. I only learned to ride after passing the imperial examination and finally affording lessons. Do you think this will affect my future children…”

Could it be fixed?

The official looked at Xu Yanmiao with teary, pleading eyes.

Xu Yanmiao patted him on the shoulder. “My condolences.”

[This… I really don’t know if this can be fixed. Maybe they should see a doctor? Riding lessons affecting fertility isn’t exactly something I can solve. Should I ask the system?]

[…I asked. No solution. Figures.]

[Right, this is an information-based system, not a miracle-working one. Asking it to solve a medical issue is like asking a rain god to clear the skies.]

Before the official could faint from sheer despair, distant shouts rang out—apparently, several people had already collapsed.

“What’s going on?” Xu Yanmiao asked, confused.

The official sighed deeply. “Xu Lang, you really have no idea how much strain you’re putting on everyone’s hearts. If this keeps up, instead of dying young, I suspect we’ll all live much longer… Because all this emotional rollercoasting must be strengthening our cardiovascular systems.”

That evening, the officials were granted free time to relax.

…Except for the magistrate of Yanshi County.