On the night of the third day of the eighth month, Zhang Dengqing was assigned to a side room quite far from Gu Xiaodeng. When he left, he looked back with every step, terrified that Gu Jinyu would somehow deceive his younger brother.
He tentatively tried to get chummy with the other servants in Gu Jinyu’s courtyard, but found them to be as tight-lipped as an iron barrel, so he gave up in frustration. After arriving at the unfamiliar side room, sick with worry, he planned to get up early the next morning to check on Xiaodeng. Then he remembered that tomorrow was Gu Pinghan’s birthday, and that bastard would surely be very busy tonight. And since this was West Prosperity Garden, Gu Pinghan definitely wouldn’t send anyone to summon him for storytelling again.
Thinking he could finally get a good night’s sleep, he rubbed his hands together and went to close the window. Just as the window panels were about to shut, a hand reached in and jammed it open, grabbing him and trying to drag him out. This nearly scared Zhang Dengqing into exploding, convinced that his father’s all-powerful enemies had infiltrated the Gu family estate.
But the intruder turned out to be Gu Pinghan’s Shadow Guard. Even in West Prosperity Garden, with its strict household troops, that Heir still had to sneak him over for a story.
Zhang Dengqing was utterly exasperated. Yet, caught under someone else’s roof, he had no choice but to lower his head. With a sour face, he yielded, letting the Shadow Guard carry him swiftly on his back.
Gu Pinghan’s courtyard wasn’t far from Gu Jinyu’s. It was just as spacious, and just as stark and monotonous. Beneath the bleak autumn moon, the compound looked like a giant aloeswood coffin.
Zhang Dengqing was ushered into a study. Gu Pinghan sat in the main seat, leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, looking either asleep or simply resting. Even in feigned slumber, he remained ice-cold, a standard template of impassivity. Yet, for some reason, Zhang Dengqing felt that every single strand of his hair was etched with utter exhaustion.
The doors and windows were shut. Gu Pinghan opened his eyes and looked at him calmly, still a man of few words.
Zhang Dengqing caught a faint smell of alcohol in the room. The Heir must have had too much to drink at some social engagement today; no wonder this man who usually sat ramrod straight was now completely slumped in his chair.
Since Gu Pinghan still didn’t speak, Zhang Dengqing, accustomed to this dead-fish demeanor, cupped his hands in a respectful gesture and offered conventional congratulations first: “I wish the Heir a happy birthday tomorrow, and success in next month’s Autumn Examination, making a name that startles all.”
“Come here,” Gu Pinghan said, his words slow. “How do commoners celebrate birthdays?”
Zhang Dengqing gave in to his insatiable curiosity and went over, offering a curated selection of details.
Gu Pinghan listened very seriously, then asked, “How do you and Xiaodeng celebrate your birthdays?”
Zhang Dengqing’s mood lifted a little. “We’ve done it all sorts of ways. It’s different every year.”
Gu Pinghan listened to his tales, and when he had finished, he replied flatly, “My birthdays have little variation. Year after year, it is always the same.”
“Come on, the Heir of the Prince Zhenbei shouldn’t be comparing himself to us,” Zhang Dengqing thought. Rich people really had no shortage of problems. Unwilling to argue further, he faked a yawn and turned away. “It’s terribly late, Heir. You shouldn’t stay up. Won’t you be very busy tomorrow? I won’t disturb your rest any longer. See you around.”
Suddenly, his arm was seized. Zhang Dengqing froze for a second, instinctively trying to use his martial force to shake free, but the grip only tightened. He turned his head. Gu Pinghan, who had been slumped in the chair moments before, had risen and, without any apparent reason, had grabbed him.
“What are you doing?”
“…I don’t know,” Gu Pinghan said, looking down at his own hand gripping Zhang Dengqing, equally baffled. “I just feel… I don’t really want you to leave.”
“Are you sick in the head?”
Gu Pinghan shook his head, then nodded. Not only did he hold his hand tightly, he was pulling Zhang Dengqing towards him as well.
“Zhang Dengqing.”
“What exactly do you want?”
“How about we swap identities?” Gu Pinghan held him as if half-awake. “Yunji once said he wanted to trade identities with me. He wanted it, but I didn’t. Yet now, I don’t know what this feeling is, but I really want to be Dengqing for a while. I’ll give you the identity of Gu Pinghan, and you can stand in for me. How about it?”
Zhang Dengqing was too torn to speak. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the Heir’s veiled logic; he just found it troublesome.
After a moment of dead silence, Gu Pinghan spoke again: “Swap for one night, and I will guarantee Gu Xiaodeng’s safety for one month.”
Zhang Dengqing: “!”
Zhang Dengqing: “That’s too stingy. Shouldn’t it be at least a year?”
“Half a month.”
“You son of a— you’re haggling now?”
“Ten days.”
“Son of a…! Fine, fine, fine!”
Zhang Dengqing was furious. He’d grown up seeing all kinds of bargaining, but today’s haggling angered him the most.
It was a simple role-playing game. The two swapped positions; Zhang Dengqing sat in the main seat, while Gu Pinghan tucked his hands into his sleeves and stood beside the desk. The fake Heir had a convincing, authoritative air, and the fake servant also looked the part quite well.
Gu Pinghan’s brow gradually smoothed out. He softly learned the vulgar phrase: “Son of a…”
Zhang Dengqing watched him, momentarily at a loss for words. Here was Gu Pinghan, so easily tasting the novelty of descending the rungs, while Gu Xiaodeng, back in East Forest Garden, was struggling so hard to climb up. People’s pursuits were strange and varied, just like how an orange tree grown south of the Huai River is sweet, but becomes bitter and thorny when planted in the north.
Gu Pinghan became addicted to the soft curse, his release of pent-up emotion still restrained. He reached out and brushed his hand over the brush rest on the desk, picking up a brush. Crack! With a sharp snap, a fine wolf-hair brush, worth a fortune, was broken into two pieces.
Zhang Dengqing watched him break an entire row of good brushes, inwardly cursing the wastrel. Then, Gu Pinghan suddenly reached out and struck Zhang Dengqing’s face with no great force.
Having been slapped for no reason, Zhang Dengqing was about to explode with fury, but the man before him suddenly bent down.
“I know Zhang Dengqing wants to strike Gu Pinghan to vent his anger.”
“But Gu Pinghan only wants to hold Zhang Dengqing.”
Zhang Dengqing froze as Gu Pinghan bent down and embraced him tightly.
He was still sitting in the main seat, and the Gu Heir knelt on one knee, holding him.
Heartbeats pounded in chaotic disarray, until the study door was suddenly pushed open from outside. The heartbeats then synchronized.
The Prince Zhenbei, Gu Yan, walked in.
Zhu Mi followed silently at his heels. As soon as he entered and saw the scene, he immediately fell to his knees with a thud at Gu Yan’s feet. “Your Highness, forgive me! It is my failure in supervision that allowed an outsider to lead the Heir astray. I beg Your Highness to punish me severely!”
An explosion really did go off in Zhang Dengqing’s mind. Fury blazing, he opened his mouth to speak, but Gu Pinghan covered it.
The hint of laughter in Gu Pinghan’s eyes from moments ago had reverted to a pool of stagnant water, calm and composed. He mouthed two silent words: “Trust me.”
Gu Xiaodeng waited the entire morning in a state of dread. At noon, Gu Jinyu returned. He sprinted over, half his soul already flown away. “Where is my brother? Where is he?”
Gu Jinyu pressed him back into a chair and held both his hands soothingly, as if holding two warm, soft little clouds. “Xiaodeng, listen to me.”
He put on a deliberately troubled expression and unfurled a lie, half-truth and half-fabrication, draping it over Gu Xiaodeng. “Do you still remember what I told you last night about an esteemed royal guest staying in our residence? Last night, your sworn brother went out privately and accidentally ran afoul of the Second Prince, who was strolling around…”
Gu Xiaodeng struggled to pull his hands free, shaking his head. “He’s not reckless! Why would he be running around in the middle of the night?!”
“Your sworn brother did it for you,” Gu Jinyu leaned in close, his words light as a feather, and immediately felt Gu Xiaodeng go rigid. “You’re in a hurry to blend into the Gu family. Your sworn brother saw it and worried for you. It’s rare to come to West Prosperity Garden, so he likely wanted to seize the opportunity to ask around about various matters for you. He simply couldn’t help but roam at night. Who knew he would offend the Second Prince?”
Gu Xiaodeng froze. Tears began streaming down his face uncontrollably. “H-How did he offend him? Was my brother beaten?”
“He was the one who struck the Second Prince. He knows martial arts, doesn’t he?” Gu Jinyu whispered into his ear. “The Second Prince, Gao Mingqian, is domineering by nature, narrow-minded, and addicted to beauty, regardless of gender. Perhaps it was the Prince who first took liberties with him. Not knowing his identity, your sworn brother went up and taught him a lesson. In the world of the jianghu you know, a little physical lesson isn’t a big deal, but here in the Gu family, the divide between ruler and subject is absolute, and hierarchy cannot be defied. Your sworn brother acted on impulse, but the disaster he caused requires the entire Gu family to make amends.”
Trembling, Gu Xiaodeng asked, “Then what will happen?”
“The Second Prince made two demands: first, that he be beaten to death; second, that he be… purified and sent into the palace as a eunuch.”
Gu Xiaodeng’s breath caught in his throat, and he nearly fainted.
“Don’t worry. Your sworn brother wasn’t hurt. The Gu family offered a third alternative to the Second Prince.” Gu Jinyu supported him, sighing softly into his ear. “After all, Zhang Dengqing grew up with you. For your sake, his sentence was changed to banishment and conscription into the army.”
Beating to death had been Gu Yan’s proposal; military conscription was what Gu Pinghan had fought for. But Gu Jinyu understood that regardless of the previous night’s events, Gu Yan would sooner or later ensure Zhang Dengqing’s death. It would either be as effortless as crushing an ant, or by forcing Gu Xiaodeng to do it himself.
Since he had initially agreed to let Gu Xiaodeng stay in the Gu family, he was treating Gu Xiaodeng as a useful person. Useful people needed to be disciplined and trained, especially one tainted by the lowly, vulgar air of the outside world. To make Gu Xiaodeng obedient, he first had to be left with no one to rely on. Zhang Dengqing had to die, it was only a matter of time.
This outcome was letting Zhang Dengqing off easy and leaving Gu Pinghan with the short end of the stick, which suited Gu Jinyu’s wishes even more.
“Armed forces from where?”
“Silly boy,” Gu Jinyu called him, with genuine feeling. “Naturally, our Gu family’s forces. It’s just that since he offended the Second Prince, we have to send him to a place a bit farther away.”
Gu Xiaodeng let out a breath of relief, then promptly burst into a renewed torrent of tears. “Just one night… how did it come to this? Does my brother really have to leave? Is that Second Prince truly so unreasonable? If there’s really no other way, if he truly has to go, then… when does my brother depart? I want to go see him…”
“Just a moment ago.”
Gu Xiaodeng’s fragmented rambling stopped. He looked at Gu Jinyu, utterly lost.
“Just a moment ago, Zhang Dengqing has already been sent away. I sent Blossom Ashes to accompany him. You don’t need to worry. Once he’s settled, he’ll surely write a letter to you.”
A cold shudder ran through Gu Xiaodeng’s entire body. He immediately tried to surge up, shooting forward like a firecracker, wanting to run outside.
Gu Jinyu caught him by the waist with one arm, circling him from behind to comfort him. “There, there, it’s all right. Your sworn brother is gone, but your own flesh and blood is still here, isn’t it? Don’t be sad, Xiaodeng. You still have me.”
Gu Xiaodeng struggled for a long while, until he cried himself out of strength. His knees buckled and he pitched forward, but Gu Jinyu scooped him up, pulling him into his lap to hold and console.
Gu Xiaodeng was utterly devastated. Leaning against him, he murmured, “Can’t you just… not separate me from my brother? I can’t adapt to this. Otherwise… let me also join the army, okay?”
Gu Jinyu gently stroked his back, his heart feeling very light, though his tone was mournful. “Father and the others would never let you go. You are their own flesh and blood, recovered against all odds. As for Zhang Dengqing, joining the army might not be a bad thing for him. You don’t want him to leave, but do you really wish for him to remain a lowly servant forever? Your sworn brother already knows martial arts; who knows, he might achieve great merit and establish a career someday.”
By now, coaxing him was second nature. “On the day of the Ghost Festival, didn’t you ask me to help you learn your lessons, to help you adapt to the Gu family as quickly as possible? When you’ve learned enough and performed well, you can then beseech Father to secretly bring Zhang Dengqing back. Then everything will fall into place naturally.”
Gu Xiaodeng cried for a very long time before finally pulling himself together. Clinging to him, he asked, “What should I do?”
Gu Jinyu stroked his thin shoulder blades. Near his ear, an echo faintly resounded—the very first principle Gu Yan and An Ruoyi had used to discipline him long ago.
“‘Before your Royal Father and Mother Consort, obedience and timidity are the only virtues.'”
So, cast aside your naivety. Embrace this world.
Sink into this pool with me.
