Chapter 14

Ten days made a full week and then some, yet Gu Xiaodeng had never felt a stretch of ten days drag on so long.

The Gu family’s confinement room was uniquely designed: about eight zhang high and less than three zhang in diameter. From the outside, it looked like a tower, or perhaps a pillar. On Gu Xiaodeng’s first day locked inside, nine hollow circles perforated the top of the tower-pillar, allowing sunlight and moonlight to filter through. Back then, he thought those high circles were a fixed design. But by the second day, the circles above had decreased to eight. Someone must have been controlling them.

There were no candles or lamps in this tall, confining tower-pillar. The only light came from the natural illumination spilling through those narrow circles high above. Gu Xiaodeng counted the beams of light. Day by day, they dwindled from nine beams. On the final day, the chamber fell into complete darkness.

At first, he had the strength to scream inside the tower-pillar. No one answered, yet he still yelled without end. But as the food supply and light diminished day by day, his strength drained away. By the seventh day, he begged for mercy towards the outside of the tower. The world remained deathly silent.

The last day of confinement stretched the longest. Without any light source, the pitch blackness blurred time and space. The chaos seemed to muddle life and death itself. Gu Xiaodeng woke and slept, slept and woke, never able to distinguish dream from reality.

His dreams echoed with the sound of water. His subconscious knew he slept within a water cradle. A grown-up’s damp, warm hand stroked his head. That was mother… no, his foster mother’s hand.

His foster mother called him Xiaodeng, Deng Deng, Deng Cub. She chattered on and on, speaking many quiet everyday things. She loved talking about delicious meals. She often laughed, light and airy, always encouraging and praising him. She also cried occasionally, her sobs loud and booming, her tears falling like rain with a ding-dong patter. Her emotions were open and unbridled, sounding clumsy and rough.

“Xiaodeng.”

Gu Xiaodeng heard the soft call again. He strained to nuzzle against the hand stroking him. “A-Niang, after this soak in the water, let’s go eat together…”

Silence fell above his head for a moment. That gentle female voice slowly said, “Xiaodeng, it’s Mother Consort. You’re out of the confinement room now.”

Gu Xiaodeng’s dream shattered abruptly. He left the water cradle and returned to Zhenbei Prince Mansion.

He wanted to open his eyes, but cloth strips were bound over them. Urgency clawed at him, and he started to cry. “Mother Consort?”

“Yes, it’s Mother Consort. Don’t be afraid. Your eyes just can’t see for the moment. Keep the medicinal cloth on for now. They’ll be fine once we unwrap it in a few days.”

Gu Xiaodeng’s mind churned chaotically for a long while before he believed he was truly out of the confinement room. Even though An Ruoyi kept soothing him, he still cried uncontrollably, the lingering fear fresh in his heart.

Unlike Gu Yan’s stern and rarely-spoken demeanor, An Ruoyi could be as gentle as a jar of sweet soup whenever she wished. She explained everything concerning Gu Xiaodeng piece by piece. First, Zhang Dengqing had gone to a place over five hundred li from Changluo City and was settled into the military camp. Second, Zhu Mi had only suffered flesh wounds, and after staying in bed for a while, he would be reassigned to Gu Xiaodeng’s courtyard. Third, Gu Yan punished him because he hoped Gu Xiaodeng would learn how to be a proper master.

She spoke profusely, like the foster mother in his dreams whose face he couldn’t recall. Unable to see, Gu Xiaodeng relied heavily on hearing. He clutched at her hand, nodding as he cried. An Ruoyi didn’t say he was wrong, but he apologized incessantly out of lingering fear.

He didn’t want to be alone again, abandoned in that towering, empty tower-pillar, enduring starvation, cold, solitude, and darkness. He absolutely did not want to relive that experience—shouting himself hoarse to dead silence, watching the light sources above vanish one beam at a time. He’d rather they give him a harsh beating.

After who knows how long of this turmoil, he drifted into sleep amidst his sobs. When he woke, he still cried. He raised a hand, wanting to feel around for the copper-clad iron walls of the tower. A small hand suddenly grasped his.

With gauze covering his eyes, Gu Xiaodeng held the warm little hand in return. “Who is it?”

The small hand pried his larger hand open, straightened his palm, and wrote on it stroke by stroke. Gu Xiaodeng read aloud each character as it was written.

“You… are… ugly?”

Gu Xiaodeng froze. Soon, an indignant child’s voice rose from the bedside. “I have never seen such a vulgar and stupid person! I will absolutely never acknowledge you as my Fourth Brother! My Fourth Brother is Gu Jinyu, not an ugly thing like you!”

With that, the warm little hand threw aside his big hand. Footsteps stomped away into the distance. A maidservant’s gentle voice came from not far off: “Take care, Fifth Young Master.”

Gu Xiaodeng’s brain turned several times before he reacted. The child just now was his fifth younger brother, Gu Shouyi. He hadn’t formally met him yet. Just now was their first proper interaction.

He felt even more wronged. He reached up, touching his face and murmuring to himself, “All my life, no one’s ever called me ugly. What’s wrong with my little brother’s eyes?”

He had no idea how long he’d been muttering when a light laugh suddenly drifted from beside him. “Mm. You’re not ugly.”

Gu Xiaodeng was so startled he dove under the covers. It took him a moment to react. He reached out, groping. “Jinyu? You came to see me too? How do you walk without making a sound? It’s terrifying.”

“Not as terrifying as the confinement room, is it?”

Gu Xiaodeng choked up. His heart swelled with bitterness. “Jinyu, have you been locked up before?”

“Of course. Every brother and sister in the family has, even Shouyi was confined for a day.”

Gu Xiaodeng didn’t want to cry anymore, but hearing this, he couldn’t hold back. “Why do they do this to us?”

“Hierarchy distinguishes the noble from the base. No child defies their parents, and no master treats servants like brothers. The noble are noble, the lowly are lowly. You must obey the rules.”

Gu Xiaodeng only asked him, “How many times have you been locked up? For how many days? Did you suffer? Were you scared?”

Gu Jinyu sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at the blanket-covered Gu Xiaodeng with gauze over his eyes. Thin, small, and pale, he looked even more wretched than when they first met.

He didn’t answer. Sniffling, Gu Xiaodeng talked about his own confinement experience on his own, from small matters like picking at his feet to big ones like banging his head. He pulled out every shred of emotion, explaining it all in painstaking detail.

Gu Jinyu had never seen anyone express their feelings so bluntly, so tirelessly, so unreservedly. When he said he liked Ge Dongchen, his face lit up as he described exactly how. When he said he feared the confinement room, he spoke pitifully and at length about exactly how he suffered.

Today was the fifteenth, his day off. He originally didn’t want to return to the Gu family. He could easily find a small excuse to stay on duty at the Imperial Palace. But the moment he looked down, the image before his eyes shifted. The palace’s radiant floor tiles transformed into the pale, frail figure of Gu Xiaodeng.

“It’s simply too cruel! How could they lock me up for so long!”

Gu Xiaodeng clutched his hand and wailed. It had been a long time since Gu Jinyu recalled the confinement room, yet suddenly, the minute details of his last time inside surfaced in his mind.

It seemed to be because he hadn’t practiced martial arts properly. That Martial Arts Master twisted the facts when reporting to Gu Yan, piling charges together. He was thrown into the confinement room and stayed there… about a month, probably. It was his longest time.

But the original confinement sentence was meant to be longer still. He got out early by pretending to seek death. Faking suicide was a method to find a way to live. He wanted to live well, but somehow, he became addicted to the near-death sensation produced during the pretense. That feeling was very gratifying, full of the temptation of freedom. After all, once breath stops and the body perishes, everything in life becomes void.

Yet Gu Jinyu also understood: emptiness is freedom, but freedom isn’t necessarily empty.

Only by living.

Gu Xiaodeng’s touch interrupted his thoughts. He watched coldly as Gu Xiaodeng’s paws rubbed randomly across his chest.

“Jinyu, I’m so hungry. Is there anything to eat?”

Gu Jinyu closed his eyes. What kind of idiot is this, worth his trip all the way from the Imperial Palace?

Gu Xiaodeng felt Gu Jinyu’s heart area, begging for food. “Listen to my stomach growling. Really, it’s louder than your heartbeat.”

Gu Jinyu pulled down Gu Xiaodeng’s thin, bony wrist. He paused for a moment, then turned his head and instructed the maidservant in An Ruoyi’s room to serve a meal.

Soon, the food arrived. Gu Xiaodeng scrambled up. He sniffed at the dishes before him. He really was like a foolish dog, he thought.

Just as vigorously as he had cried before, he now ate with equal intensity. He held his own small bowl, shoveling rice into his mouth bowl after bowl. Whatever dishes the maidservant placed in his bowl, he called fragrant. Grains of rice stuck to the tip of his nose as he wolfed down the food. He even used his fingertip to pick them off and eat them. It was a scene of overwhelming, sweeping vulgarity.

The last time they ate dinner together, he barely passed as decent. Now he was crude again. Gu Jinyu felt disgust, but he kept watching.

After eating, Gu Xiaodeng rubbed his belly with one hand while gently pressing acupoints on his body with the other to aid digestion. He shuffled and nudged his way over to Gu Jinyu’s side, asking this and that. The trivial questions made Gu Jinyu feel both disgust and irritation.

Gu Xiaodeng’s tone gradually became cautious. “When will I go back to East Forest Garden?”

Now he understands the benefit of not living in West Prosperity Garden. Gu Jinyu inwardly mocked his fervent desire for West Prosperity Garden from eleven days ago. “That naturally depends on Royal Father and Mother Consort’s arrangements. Asking me is useless.”

Just then, An Ruoyi returned from outside. She dismissed the servants and came in alone. Her steps were also silent, but Gu Xiaodeng’s nose was sharp. His nostrils flared and he stood up. “Mother Consort, have you returned? I can smell the flower fragrance on your sleeve.”

An Ruoyi’s steps halted. She nodded, smiling. “I’m back.”

Gu Xiaodeng fumbled his way over, following the floral scent to An Ruoyi’s wide sleeve. He then took her hand and lowered his head to hug her. The corner of Gu Jinyu’s eye twitched. An Ruoyi’s body stiffened.

“Mother Consort, thank you.” Gu Xiaodeng spoke from the bottom of his heart. “Mother Consort, you are so good. I like you so much. You are much gentler than Royal Father.”

Silence fell for a moment.

Gu Jinyu broke it. “Your son pays respects to Mother Consort. May Mother Consort be well.”

“Mm.” An Ruoyi nodded, placing her hand on Gu Xiaodeng’s shoulder. “Xiaodeng, do you still remember how to address me in front of others?”

“I remember. ‘Greetings, Princess Consort.’ But we’re not in front of others now. Mother Consort, I’ve only been out of the confinement room for a night. I want to hug you again.” Gu Xiaodeng said, lowering his head and holding on tight. He was still short. With his head bowed, he looked even smaller in front of the tall An Ruoyi.

Gu Jinyu respectfully said a few words of greeting and excused himself. He couldn’t stand watching a foolish dog act spoiled.

Gu Xiaodeng was still reluctant to see him go. “Mother Consort, Jinyu barely stayed a moment and he’s left again.”

An Ruoyi gently pushed him away. “Jinyu’s life is very full.”

The implication was unlike yours. Gu Xiaodeng didn’t catch it. He shuffled close and hugged her again. After affirming Gu Jinyu’s hard work, he asked when he could return to East Forest Garden. An Ruoyi chuckled lightly. “Don’t you like staying at Mother Consort’s place?”

Gu Xiaodeng shook his head, speaking frankly. “I do like it, but I fear Royal Father. I’d better go live in East Forest Garden. When I miss Mother Consort, I’ll come visit you properly and respectfully.”

An Ruoyi was quiet for a moment. “You’ll return once the gauze on your eyes is removed. You must also catch up on the studies you’ve missed.”

Gu Xiaodeng wilted a little. It wasn’t the thought of body-forging or the Restraint Pendant that got to him, but rather the image of Zhu Mi, who supervised his studies, looking like some unknown, wretched state at this moment.

“Otherwise, you won’t be able to keep up come next spring.”

Gu Xiaodeng was stunned. He asked, confused, “Mother Consort, what am I doing next year?”

“A private school will be built in East Forest Garden. Next year, the children of various noble and influential families in Changluo will come to the Gu family to study.” An Ruoyi looked down at him, her gaze piercing through his flesh and blood, as if weighing the measure of his bones.

“Xiaodeng, you will also enter it then.”