"Oh my god—wait, you mean that kind of massage?"
Su Qingyu nearly choked on her milk, eyes wide with scandalized disbelief."They're teaching this in college now? Wow, these girls really go all in for higher education!"
Her tone was half-shocked, half-mocking, as if to say: You intellectual types really know how to have fun, huh.
Jiang Xun blinked.Pelvic massage?
A pair of long-buried memories flashed through his mind—two old articles he'd read before his rebirth.
One discussed "feasibility studies on the daily needs of the citizens of the Kingdom of Women."The other detailed a very real medical practice from 19th-century Europe:
Mild hysteria could supposedly be cured by "vigorous outdoor riding," but when a bumpy saddle failed to bring relief… the final, most "effective" treatment was—yes—pelvic massage.
(This isn't fiction, dear reader. You can fact-check it yourself: in the Middle Ages, certain acts were considered sinful—unless, of course, they were done as "medical procedures." Admittedly, they did require a fair amount of arm strength.)
Understanding dawned on Jiang Xun—swift and absurd, the way it does when you're lying awake at 3 a.m. reading bizarre internet trivia.His worldview had just been upgraded again.
He thought of one of his system skills—[Riding Mastery].
He wondered: did that mean horse riding mastery… or perhaps, other kinds of riding?
Either way, this was an excellent opportunity for some field testing.
Jiang Xun set down his milk, dabbed at his lips with a napkin, and said evenly—with a tone that brooked no argument:
"Then let's go take the riding class."
The moment the words left his mouth, the air in the room shifted.
Mu Qingxue's expression went rigid—half alarmed, half incredulous. She immediately opened her tablet and began swiping through files."Sir, equestrian training carries a degree of risk. According to your personal safety protocols, I would advise—"
"What?! Horse riding?" Su Qingyu's eyes lit up. She slapped her thigh and practically bounced in place."Exciting! Xun-ge, let me tell you—riding takes core strength! You need a good, strong waist!"
As she spoke, she leaned forward meaningfully, her fiery figure drawing a sharp glance from Mu Qingxue.
Jiang Xun ignored them both, stood up, and said lazily:"Don't you two have jobs to get to?"
Just like that, the duel of glares fizzled out.
At the villa gate, Mu Qingxue was still fretting."Sir, I've spoken to the university. They'll provide the best coach and the gentlest horse. Please—be careful."
Su Qingyu, pouting, clung to the car door."Xun-ge, you better wait for me! Don't let any of those wild mares in the stables steal your heart!"
Jiang Xun waved her off, and the driver started the engine.
Jinling University Royal Equestrian Club
It didn't look like a student facility at all—more like a private European estate.The vast, manicured lawns gleamed under the sun. White fences framed the rolling fields. The scent of hay and leather drifted from the immaculate stables in the distance.
The moment Jiang Xun stepped out of the car, the air changed.
The noise died away as if someone had hit mute.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of young women in riding gear froze mid-motion.Their gazes turned toward him like iron filings drawn to a magnet.
Admiration.Curiosity.Desire.And something deeper—yearning.
"Sir, this way, please."
The stable's head attendant hurried over, her forehead beaded with nervous sweat. Her voice trembled slightly.
She knew exactly who this was—not just any student, but the prized guest of the entire university.
If anything happened to him—if he so much as bruised—she'd probably be lynched by the furious Men's Health Association before the hour was up.
Jiang Xun didn't seem to notice the reverent stares.He walked calmly toward the training grounds—then stopped mid-step.
His gaze caught on a figure in the center of the field.
Tall. Commanding.
A woman of at least one-seventy-five in height, dressed in a perfectly tailored black riding suit that hugged her athletic frame.The tight breeches emphasized the sleek, powerful lines of her legs, while her knee-high boots gleamed in the sun.
Her bronzed skin glowed with vitality. Short, neatly tied hair peeked out from under her helmet. Even the sweat-darkened strands at her temples added to her striking, untamed aura.
No makeup. No pretense.Just sharp, sculpted features and a presence that cut through the air like a drawn sword.
Her eyes—bright, predatory, and impossibly clear—were locked on the student she was instructing, filled with the kind of authority that brooked no nonsense.
Not seductive like Su Qingyu.Not polished like Mu Qingxue.But fierce, focused, and utterly commanding.
It was her.The short-haired woman from the subway—the one who couldn't mind her own business.
She must've felt the ripple of attention; her brows knit in irritation. She looked up.
Their eyes met.
For a heartbeat, something shifted—a tiny flicker of recognition, surprise, something unspoken—before it was quickly buried under annoyance and guarded distance.
Him again.
The human embodiment of pheromones and trouble.
The stable manager rushed forward, almost pleading:"Coach Qin Lan! This is Mr. Jiang Xun—President Zhang personally assigned you to instruct him!"
Qin Lan.
Jiang Xun silently repeated the name, tasting its strength.
Qin Lan's frown deepened. She looked from the sweating manager to the calmly smiling man surrounded by adoring students.
Great.Just what she needed—babysitting the school's golden boy.
If anything happened to him, she'd be the one crucified.
Still, duty was duty.
She strode over."Mr. Jiang," she said crisply, stopping exactly three paces away. Her tone was cool, clipped, and utterly professional. "I'm your instructor—Qin Lan."
Jiang Xun nodded. "Mm."
She inhaled quietly, forcing composure."Mount the horse. Step firmly on the stirrup, straighten your back, grip the reins."
Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried—firm and clear, cutting through the murmuring crowd.
A snow-white stallion was led over—a magnificent animal, calm and stately."This is Chasing Wind. The gentlest horse in the stable. He's never thrown a rider."
Despite her words, worry was written all over her face.
As Jiang Xun prepared to mount, Qin Lan's heart hammered.No. I can't risk it. Not alone.
If he fell, it'd be her head on the chopping block.
"Wait."
Gasps rippled through the onlookers.
Before Jiang Xun could react, Qin Lan swung up onto the horse in one fluid motion.Then she turned, her tone sharp and commanding:
"Sit behind me. I'll show you how it feels first."
Jiang Xun raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitching.
Her expression was written with stubborn righteousness: I'm only doing this for safety—don't you dare read into it.
Suppressing a chuckle, he swung up behind her.
Instantly, their bodies aligned—warmth against warmth, movement against movement.
Qin Lan's back stiffened.
The solid heat of his chest pressed against her, his breath brushing the curve of her ear.Her heartbeat skipped—her whole body tensed as if struck by static.
For twenty-some years, she'd never been this close to any man.
"Hold on."
Her voice came out tighter than she intended. She clamped her thighs around the horse's flanks and snapped the reins.
"Let's go!"
Chasing Wind began a steady canter across the grass.
Just as Qin Lan started to relax—
—everything went to hell.
The horse screamed, reared violently, front hooves pawing the air before slamming back down.
Then, like it had been possessed, it bolted—wild, unpredictable, unstoppable!
"Ahhhh!"
Shrieks erupted around the field.
"What's happening?!"