Gu Jinyu learned from Zhang Dengqing’s gritted-teeth explanation that Gu Xiaodeng was a medicine person.
His vision doubled. In a panic, he searched for the nearly empty cloth pouch, still clinging to a few threads of hope.
Zhang Dengqing snatched the pouch, opened it for inspection, and found only six bottles of medicine left inside. After examining each one, his eyes seemed about to spit fire. “I’ll ask you again—did Xiaodeng truly deliver this to you personally? You didn’t force him?”
Gu Jinyu felt as though two of his three souls had fled. He stiffly raised a hand to cover his heart, thinking dazedly: So the medicine really was made with Gu Xiaodeng’s medicine blood.
The term “medicine person” did not sound like anything good. No wonder Gu Xiaodeng had no memory of his life before age seven, no wonder his recovery from sickness and injury was always so slow. No wonder Zhang Dengqing once said he had lived a life of unspeakable suffering before seven. How did Xiaodeng get through his early childhood? If they had never swapped identities, could he have endured that bitterness of being a medicine person in Gu Xiaodeng’s stead?
No wonder he had dreamed of him during his severe injury. What had entered his throat was his blood. He didn’t know if it hurt when the blood was drawn back then, if it damaged his health. Healing others yet unable to heal oneself, always sweetening others’ lives while making his own bitter.
So now, Gu Xiaodeng’s blood flowed through his own body.
A part of Gu Xiaodeng coursed endlessly through his veins.
Gu Jinyu’s mind was stuffed with the sounds of heartbeats and rushing water. He felt both guilt-ridden pain and a twisted exhilaration from sharing the same blood.
Trembling, he answered Zhang Dengqing: “The Gu family doesn’t know he’s a medicine person. If they knew he had that kind of exploitable value, they would never have simply given him away.”
“Given him away where?”
Shivering, Gu Jinyu laid out everything from the previous year—from his departure from Changluo last March to the Winter Hunt. He hadn’t witnessed a single thing that had happened to Gu Xiaodeng personally; he could only recount it all through others’ observations and experiences. He pieced together Gu Xiaodeng’s ordeal from scraps, mending it with empathy and a thirst for revenge.
Zhang Dengqing, who had initially been radiating explosive rage, grew stunned as he listened. The shock settled into a deadly calm.
“Say that again. What happened to him?”
“The Gu family gave him to Second Prince Gao Mingqian. A group forced him into falling into a pond, and after he fell in, no one could find him anywhere.” Gu Jinyu hoarsely explained the fortuitous encounter the Empress had described. “Xiaodeng isn’t gone. He simply experienced an adventure. He went to a later era. In six years at most, I’ll be able to fish him back out of that pond.”
Zhang Dengqing sat frozen, digesting all of this.
Gu Pinghan, as calm as ever, silently walked over and offered the wooden sword hanging at his waist, signaling that it was time for a beating.
Gu Jinyu also silently turned his back and knelt, lowering his head to indicate that he was ready to be beaten.
Zhang Dengqing was dazed for a long moment before his trembling hand took the sword. Rage and distress surged through him as he struck until the wooden sword snapped, yet even in his fury, he held back just enough.
Gu Jinyu felt no pain; instead, he felt considerably more at ease. His spirit even stabilized.
When Gu Xiaodeng returned, he could let Xiaodeng beat him too. Every day. Every year. He could punish him endlessly, punishment and companionship side by side.
After hitting him, Zhang Dengqing sat down, hand trembling. He didn’t make a sound for a long time, then raised his hand to cover his face, sobbing and cursing bitterly in between.
Gu Pinghan silently looked around for other objects that could be used for a beating.
Gu Jinyu took a deep breath, bowed his head to Zhang Dengqing, and performed a salute. “It is my fault. I failed to ensure his safety. When Xiaodeng returns, I will confess my crimes and accept punishment. And I will not let those who harmed him off, either.”
It was only now, at this moment, that Gu Jinyu finally understood how Su Mingya, a person born with a chronically weak constitution, could have suddenly become so robust two years ago.
Gu Xiaodeng had been secretly healing him all along—for two whole years.
How much of Gu Xiaodeng’s blood flowed within Su Mingya’s body? Gu Jinyu didn’t even want to think about it; he simply felt a consuming hatred.
Zhang Dengqing was overcome with grief and fury, his curses broken by tears streaming down his face. Gu Pinghan then offered a scabbard that could also be used for a beating, which only earned him Zhang Dengqing’s scathing rebuke: “You’re a Gu too, get lost!”
It took him a while to steady his breathing. “When the day comes, I’m taking Xiaodeng away.”
Gu Jinyu instantly lost his composure, his heart leaping into his throat again. The moment he opened his mouth, his vision blurred. “Brother Zhang, I will definitely take care of him from now on. Can you… not take Xiaodeng away?”
“Who wants your care? With me around, it’s none of your damn business!” An overwhelming, father-brother-like pressure erupted from Zhang Dengqing. “You be your court official. Xiaodeng is not on the same path as you. Though there are still things beyond my power at this moment, in another two or three years, the conflicts of the martial world will no longer be able to touch me. Then I will protect Xiaodeng myself. As for your Gu family, I originally thought you could protect him for the sake of blood ties. But what the hell is this situation? What else could he possibly owe you? Even if there is a debt, we’ll just pay it off!”
“Wait, Brother Zhang, that’s not what you said before.” Gu Jinyu’s fingertips trembled violently. “Xiaodeng and I were born on the same day. He and I are both…”
Zhang Dengqing cut him off. “Those were different times. Changluo cannot tolerate him, but the martial world can. I, Zhang Dengqing, am the martial world!”
He was both furious and sorrowful. “And what are you, Gu Jinyu, doing putting on this hypocritical act now? Were you not among those who cornered him? Five whole years—what did you protect? You profited handsomely from your ladder to success, while my brother walked a path of ice. Now you’re even a high minister and great general bearing the nation’s expectations. As long as you crawl back alive to the Golden Throne Hall, you’ll be second only to the Emperor himself. A person in high places never sees the ants beneath their feet. Isn’t this exactly how you’ve always viewed my brother? And now you put on this disgusting display like you can’t live without him—who are you trying to show? What do you take Xiaodeng for? What else are you trying to scrape off of him this time?”
Gu Jinyu was lambasted mercilessly, unable to retort, the accusations echoing in his mind.
What did he take Gu Xiaodeng for?
Naturally, the only fellow traveler in this world.
And what kind of feeling should that be for a fellow traveler?
Zhang Dengqing had, after all, traveled a long way. He cursed for half the night until he finally toppled over and fell unconscious.
Gu Jinyu remained numb for a long while. When he came back to his senses, he realized it was quiet. He looked up and saw Gu Pinghan sitting beside Zhang Dengqing like a tree stump, hesitating over how to carry the man away.
Gu Jinyu finally snapped out of it. “I’ll arrange a military tent for Brother Zhang.”
Gu Pinghan thought for a moment. “Forget it. Don’t trouble him by moving him. Let him rest here. You and I should step outside. Conveniently, I also have something to say to you.”
Gu Jinyu had no objections. He went out and gave instructions to Zhu Mi, who was waiting nearby.
Zhu Mi wanted to urgently call for a military doctor. “Your complexion doesn’t look good.”
Gu Jinyu shook his head and quietly gave a few military orders before Gu Pinghan emerged.
The elder brother heir said coldly, “I’m tired too. Let’s go. Which tent are you resting in tonight? I’ll come along.”
Despite a four-year age gap, the two were nearly identical in height. They had encountered each other a few times last year while stationed in Outer State. Gu Jinyu considered him a slightly more familiar colleague and refused directly. “Zhu Mi has already set up a separate tent for you.”
Gu Pinghan turned and asked Zhu Mi, then grabbed Gu Jinyu and started walking. “Quit dawdling.”
Gu Jinyu only acted meek and submissive before Zhang Dengqing. Now, his decisive nature returned, and he immediately frowned. But Gu Pinghan arbitrarily pushed him along, quickly shoving him into his tent. Once inside, he asked in a cold voice: “What is his younger brother’s relationship to you?”
Gu Jinyu was, after all, a beast of burden raised by the Gu family, extremely familiar with the thinking patterns of these people. At Gu Pinghan’s words, he felt as if his nerves had been pricked. Suppressing his emotions, he replied icily, “Xiaodeng is Brother Zhang’s younger brother, and also your own fourth brother by blood.”
“So that’s it.” Gu Pinghan understood instantly. “You plan to use the excuse of Gu Xiaodeng’s bloodline to reject Zhang Dengqing’s demand for him, so that you can keep him in the Gu family in the future.”
Gu Jinyu’s fingertips began trembling again. “Xiaodeng was originally a member of the Gu family. When he returns, what’s wrong with me wanting to make amends?”
“Then what have you been doing these past few years?” Gu Pinghan narrowed his eyes. “Though I’m not in Changluo, I can still hear its romantic gossip. The affair between Gu Xiaodeng and the Su family’s Mingya is all the rage. If you truly liked him, why have you stood by silently, not asking or caring? You refuse to let him go—are you scheming to make use of his medicine blood again?”
Gu Pinghan did not scruple to speculate about him with malice, just as Gu Jinyu used to occasionally fire a cold arrow his way.
Only this time, the color drained completely from Gu Jinyu’s face. He froze, unable to fire back.
He wanted to say “I’m not,” but that denial only applied to the latter half; he couldn’t refute the first part.
Gu Pinghan scrutinized him for a moment and saw through him again. People like them were always like this—a fog of confusion when analyzing themselves, yet always clear-eyed when observing others coldly. “It’s not that you want to use him, nor that you don’t like him.”
Gu Pinghan paused, a faint hint of frustration at his failure to live up to expectations in his voice. “You’re so stupid. All these years, you just watched the person in your heart throw himself into someone else’s arms. What exactly have you been striving so desperately for?”
“Person in my heart”—Gu Jinyu wanted to retort, but his vocal cords felt as though a massive weight was hanging from them. He couldn’t voice a single pure argument.
What had he been doing these past few years? Earning a living. Stealing glances at Gu Xiaodeng’s situation in his busy moments of leisure. When Gu Xiaodeng called him family and brother, he mirrored those identities and labels like a reflection.
They were the same age. He himself had shot up into a desperate, power-seeking fugitive. And Gu Xiaodeng? Still as childlike, never having grown up. His frame stretched inch by inch, merely transforming from a beautiful child into an exquisitely beautiful older child.
He watched, month by month, year by year, as though watching an increasingly precious, flawless treasure. As for why, he only had vague emotional clues: Gu Xiaodeng’s happiness, his pure kindness, were attractive. People were drawn to beautiful things, weren’t they?
When Gu Xiaodeng disappeared, of course he would be overwhelmingly devastated. That was the only treasure of its kind in the world. Once shattered, it was gone forever. It was perfectly reasonable that he would lose his mind and weep endlessly over it.
Gu Jinyu could learn any skill clearly documented in books, but when it came to the subtle realm of emotions, he could only haphazardly observe the people around him. And what decent people were around him? Before Gu Xiaodeng came to the Gu family, when Gu Jinyu looked across Changluo, the most he had learned was hatred from Ge Dongchen’s parents. He hadn’t learned love from anywhere else.
Since he had never received love, it was a foreign thing to him.
So foreign—how could he know he possessed it?
He didn’t grow up in Vast Marsh Academy. He was too busy for worldly desires. When he saw that Gu Xiaodeng and Su Mingya hadn’t kissed passionately, he knew they were close. But how close? He didn’t want to imagine it at all. The mere thought suffocated him.
He also never wanted to ask Gu Xiaodeng how things were going with that Su. He only schemed behind the scenes, figuring out how to smoothly, seamlessly pry them apart. Gu Xiaodeng’s affection was too obvious and blazing; he feared prying too hard and hurting his heart. He could handle any dangerous mission, but when it came to handling Gu Xiaodeng’s love, he was endlessly cautious.
Gu Jinyu frantically picked apart the strokes of the word “like.” Memories surged up from Gu Xiaodeng’s Record of Observations—those written accounts of his affection for Su Mingya. Those little details always tasted bitter when caught between lips and teeth.
He had thought that was his resentment over Gu Xiaodeng’s misplaced devotion.
So, looking back now… was that jealousy?
Pale-faced, Gu Jinyu rebuked Gu Pinghan: “I… you… words without proof! Stop slandering me and Shanqing!”
Gu Pinghan just looked at him coldly. “Oh.”
“You’re a Gu family member too. Do you have some sweetheart of your own, that you dare put on this air of a man of experience and lecture me?!”
Gu Pinghan: “…”
