Fan Zongxi added, "Fu Gui told me you once saved his life."
Hu Xiaotian said, "I don't even remember!"
"Once you enter the palace gates, the depths are as vast as the sea," Fan Zongxi said. "For people like us, the moment we step through those gates, it's as though we begin our lives all over again. Really, entering the palace isn't so different from taking monastic vows." He narrowed his eyes, his gaze turning distant and ethereal.
Hu Xiaotian nodded with deep understanding. In truth, when it came to purifying the six senses of worldly desires, entering the palace was rather more thorough than becoming a monk.
Red Mountain Racecourse was the racecourse closest to the Imperial City, and one of the imperial palace's horse pastures. Nestled between mountains and water, it boasted lush grass and abundant water. It was a rare haven of tranquility near the Kang Capital, where the imperial family's prized mounts were generally kept. The Directorate of Imperial Stables managed the racecourse, with Fan Zongxi directly in charge. He normally spent even more time here than inside the palace.
They passed through the bustling streets of the Kang Capital and headed straight out through the west gate, then traveled north along a tree-lined road for roughly fifteen li before Red Mountain Racecourse came into view. Firwood palisades enclosed the entire grounds, standing about two zhang high with sharpened tops. A watchtower stood every hundred zhang, with guards stationed above day and night.
When Fan Zongxi's party was still more than a li from the entrance, the racecourse gates began to open slowly. Fan Zongxi took the lead and rode in first. Although it was already mid-autumn, the grass remained lush and emerald green, stretching all the way to the foot of distant Red Mountain. Autumn