Chapter 8

“‘Outside the curtain, do not hurry. In the hall, do not hurry. When holding jade, do not hurry… In the hall, walk step by step. Below the hall, stride freely.’… Waaah! Have mercy, not so hard!”

At the hour of early morning, Gu Xiaodeng lay sprawled in a silent meditation room, reciting the Book of Rites in fits and starts while tears welled in his eyes.

He was draped over a bamboo bed that felt like a roasting rack. Two men, supposedly Body Tempering Instructors, stood on either side of him. One held him down while the other gripped his arms, meticulously pulling them inch by inch with practiced force.

This was called bone stretching, quite literal in meaning. Stretch enough, and one could grow taller.

But it hurt.

“Just bear with it.” Zhu Mi knelt before his bamboo bed, using a sweat cloth to gently wipe the cold sweat from Gu Xiaodeng’s face. “Your stature is insufficient. We are using external force to help you grow, lest you remain short in the future. If you endure this for a short while every morning, it will end in half a year. Half a year passes in a flash. Just grit your teeth and it will be over.”

Hearing that this excruciating bone-stretching regimen would last so long, Gu Xiaodeng nearly fainted from crying. “No, no! Brother Zhu, I beg you, have mercy, stop pulling! I don’t need to be too tall, being a little dwarf is fine for me…!”

The Body Tempering Instructors moved to pull his legs, and Gu Xiaodeng let out another round of wretched yelps, feeling as though he could hear his own bones creaking and grinding.

He struggled uncontrollably. His tears splashed onto Zhu Mi’s face as he thrashed, but Zhu Mi remained unmoved. “My apologies, Cousin Young Master, but this is not something you can refuse. The Prince and Princess Consort gave explicit instructions. You can only blame the commoner who adopted you for skimping on your meals, causing your body to lack proper nourishment and grow into this thin and frail state.”

Compared to his peers, Gu Xiaodeng was indeed small and thin. But it wasn’t due to a lack of food. He had never gone hungry in his memory. The reason he was so tiny was because, before the age of seven, he was raised as a Medicine Person, kept submerged in a water vat with little chance to move.

The bone stretching made tears stream down his face, but he still mustered the strength to argue. “No, don’t talk nonsense. My small size has a reason, and it’s not what you said about scrimping! They say a growing boy can eat his father out of house and home… my foster father would’ve gone hungry before letting me. He never mistreated me, never even said a harsh word. He was so, so good to me…”

Zhu Mi shook his head. To him, Gu Xiaodeng perfectly embodied the old saying about someone helping the people who sold them count the money.

Gu Xiaodeng’s struggles were futile. Amid the cracking of his joints, he resigned himself to his fate. Crying and pausing to soothe himself, he recited his book to distract his mind. “‘In the room, do not flail your arms. Sitting side-by-side, do not cross your elbows. When offering something to a standing person, do not kneel. When offering something to a seated person, do not stand…’”

It was truly a pitiful sight.

After barely enduring half an hour of bone stretching, he collapsed on the bamboo bed, sobbing. “It’s finally over, wuwuwu!”

But an even more painful ordeal awaited him. The two Body Tempering Instructors withdrew, and four Dance Trainers entered.

Before long, he was hoisted up to stretch his legs and bend his back, striking while the iron was hot to temper his body’s flexibility.

Gu Xiaodeng cried in heaving gasps. “No, no, I don’t understand. Bone stretching is to make me taller, but what is the dancing for? Can’t I just not grow tall and skip the dancing?”

Standing aside as a supervisor, Zhu Mi’s eardrums buzzed from Gu Xiaodeng’s voice. “Yes, you cannot skip it. Dance is also a form of etiquette. Everyone else has already learned it. As the Cousin Young Master, you are no exception. Precisely because you didn’t learn it before, and now you are older, it is difficult. Try hard to endure it. Persevere for a while and it will be fine.”

Whatever Gu Xiaodeng wanted to say was cut off by the Dance Trainer pressing his flexibility further. Terrified, he felt his body being torn apart, crying until tears and snot flowed freely. He was no longer capable of his usual chatter.

After about an hour of pressing, the Dance Trainers finished their conditioning. They left the silent room with Zhu Mi and reported their assessment of Gu Xiaodeng. “Steward Zhu, the Cousin Young Master is suited for dance. His body is much more limber than an average person’s.”

“Are you all certain?”

All four Dance Trainers nodded. Zhu Mi asked no further questions, mentally noting it down. Dance was a skill of pleasure, a technique for serving superiors. It was indeed suitable for Gu Xiaodeng.

He was too slow, too dull. At this age, it was already too late to absorb a noble family’s cultural refinement. He was destined to achieve nothing in scholarly pursuits or martial arts.

If he were both stupid and ugly, they could give up on him directly, throwing him to a villa outside to fend for himself. But even though he was small and dark-skinned, that face of his was clearly too perfectly sculpted.

Good looks were a bartering resource. Changluo had many nobles, men or women. In the future, finding someone who could both form an alliance with the Gu Family and take a liking to Gu Xiaodeng wouldn’t be too hard.

Finding him a good future, a good support, was the lenient treatment the Prince and Princess Consort of Zhenbei extended to this biological son who stuck in their throats like a fishbone.

When Zhu Mi returned to the silent room, he saw Gu Xiaodeng, his eyes and nose tip red, draped back over the bamboo bed, groaning. Zhu Mi walked over and briefed him on the afternoon’s schedule. After he rested at noon, he would begin studying other skills of entertainment in the afternoon.

Gu Xiaodeng sniffled. “All fine, just spare my body from more torture. The soreness from riding horses yesterday hasn’t faded, and just now, my soul was almost shaken out of its shell.”

“You’ve worked hard,” Zhu Mi said, placating him half-heartedly. “Bear it for a moment and it will pass. Look, it’s fine now.”

Gu Xiaodeng’s small face was full of bitterness. “Did my other brothers and sisters all go through this? After a full set of bone and tendon stretching, my little life really floated away.”

“Everyone does bone stretching.”

“And what about dancing?”

Zhu Mi was willing to brush him off, but not quite willing to lie. “Aside from the Eldest Young Lady, the other four only learned the basics superficially.”

Gu Xiaodeng’s curiosity ignited. “Why is that?”

Zhu Mi was silent for a moment, his face still expressionless. “What skills the young masters and ladies learn for self-cultivation, and to what extent, is a consideration for the Prince and Princess Consort.”

He wanted to say he didn’t know, but unfortunately, he wasn’t entirely clueless. The Eldest Young Lady he once served, Gu Renli, was the perfect marriageable masterpiece forged by the Gu Family. Originally, she was likely meant as an offering to the imperial family. But later, when the Northern Rong Prince who came for peace talks took a fancy to her, she became the only choice for a marriage alliance beyond the frontier.

Zhu Mi thought Gu Xiaodeng would continue his endless pestering with questions, but he stayed quiet for a long moment.

“You’re not going to ask more?”

“You look a bit sad… I’d feel awkward asking about your sad affairs.”

A chill shot down Zhu Mi’s spine. His face, habitually paralyzed for years, remained frozen, but in his heart, he was panicked and disbelieving. “The Cousin Young Master jest. I am merely answering your questions. I am not sad at all.”

Gu Xiaodeng’s bright eyes, still rimmed with red, looked at him. Zhu Mi suddenly felt as if his hidden pain had been pierced through by a lantern’s light. He hastily stood, avoiding the boy’s gaze, terrified he might hear some naive words from Gu Xiaodeng that he didn’t want to hear.

But Gu Xiaodeng changed the subject. “Ah, it’s my mistake. I’m the one who’s sad because my body is really uncomfortable! Zhu Mi, can you check for me? Are the tendons in my hands and feet really not broken? It hurts so much.”

Only then did Zhu Mi’s paranoid vigilance disperse. He flatly consoled the boy. When he moved closer, he noticed Gu Xiaodeng’s hands and feet were trembling slightly. The pain was likely severe.

Gu Xiaodeng was whining and groaning, but he didn’t cry anymore. He was just acting spoiled in his usual way, seeking comfort and attention. Zhu Mi didn’t understand. Apart from Zhang Dengqing, no one would ever indulge him. How could he still, as if it were second nature, act spoiled anytime and anywhere?

He should know that Zhang Dengqing would not be able to indulge him for much longer.

In the afternoon, Gu Xiaodeng’s lesson was musical instruments and singing. Instruments required cultivation, and in this area, he was a complete and utter newbie. Plucking a zither produced a chaotic mess, like grasshoppers in a hot pan. But his pitch was extremely accurate. Following the music teacher, he chanted a few melodies and quickly sang them decently.

The music teacher only pointed out his flaws. “Cousin Young Master, restrain yourself a little. Don’t be too happy. Every song has emotion. You sing every piece with delight. The melody is too superficial.”

Gu Xiaodeng stroked the instrument and smiled. “There are so many songs in the world. I can just keep singing the festive ones!”

The music teacher shook his head with some displeasure. “In the noble houses of Changluo, musical entertainment serves two main themes. One is battle songs, primarily from frontier war melodies. The other is love songs, focusing on long-distance yearning. The former is tragic and solemn, the latter is wistful and melancholic. The festive style you speak of is what the crude common folk in low households are fond of. It is not welcomed by the high families and nobility.”

The teacher asked Gu Xiaodeng to try shifting his emotions, to change his foolish joy into heroic grandeur or sorrow. The more Gu Xiaodeng tried to perform, the stranger he felt. He could force a feigned sadness by deliberately recalling sad things, but during the performance, it was like poking a ticklish spot. No matter how he sang, it was as the teacher criticized: not subtle enough, unable to restrain himself. His singing voice held only a rustic cheerfulness. And cheerfulness was rustic. He just didn’t understand.

After the lesson ended, on the walk back, he asked Zhu Mi, “I don’t understand what the music teacher said. Don’t all people have joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness? Why do the noble houses only want solemn and melancholic tunes? Is being happy against the law here?”

“It’s tradition.” Zhu Mi didn’t elaborate much. “You’ll understand later.”

Gu Xiaodeng shrugged and said, “Alright.” He trudged back with his body that had been tormented for half the day. The setting sun spread across the autumn grass. He spotted Zhang Dengqing waiting below the steps and immediately broke into a beaming smile, running over.

Zhu Mi followed a few steps behind, watching him run over to cling to Zhang Dengqing impatiently, unable to resist hugging and nuzzling even in front of others. All rules of etiquette were thrown to the back of his mind.

His happiness was so intense it was almost enviable.

That evening, after dinner, seizing their limited time together, Gu Xiaodeng complained pitifully to Zhang Dengqing about the morning’s body tempering. Zhang Dengqing’s face darkened as he listened. “What kind of lessons are these? I’ll go demand an explanation tonight!”

Gu Xiaodeng’s grievance instantly vanished. “Eh? Where would you go to ask that, brother? Don’t trouble yourself.”

“It’s no trouble. I’ll just ask around with the other Gu family members. Leave it to me.” Zhang Dengqing soothingly patted his back, his heart aching. “I just found out something last night. In ten-some days, on the third and fourth day of the eighth month, it’s your Second Sister’s and Elder Brother Heir’s birthdays.”

Gu Xiaodeng straightened his back immediately. “Wait, wait, wait. Second Sister and Third Brother are just a year apart. How can their birthdays be so close?”

“Your Third Brother was premature. Just a preemie.”

Zhang Dengqing had asked Gu Pinghan the same thing last night. Relying on his counterpart’s interest in the free life among common folk he described, he traded one story for two questions. Sometimes Gu Pinghan answered; other times he acted like a wooden puppet and stayed silent.

Gu Xiaodeng was stunned for a moment. “For their birthdays, should we prepare some congratulatory gifts?”

Zhang Dengqing immediately waved his hand dismissively. “What do you have? Don’t start this nonsense. I’m just giving you a heads-up. We’ll see what we need to do when the day actually comes.”

Longing surfaced on Gu Xiaodeng’s face. “The Gu Family will surely be very lively then, with people coming and going like during Qixi and the Ghost Festival. Maybe I’ll get to see my mother and them again then…”

Zhang Dengqing took in his yearning expression, and his thoughts first went to his own mother, who died young after being swept into the conflicts of the martial world. Then he thought of Gu Xiaodeng’s two mothers: the wicked foster mother from before he was seven, and the cold, aloof birth mother who had now found him. They say a child without a mother is like a blade of grass. He was motherless, and that was one thing. But Gu Xiaodeng, despite having two mothers in succession, was still just a little blade of grass. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow.

Thus, late that night, when Gu Pinghan’s little maid came knocking to lead the way again, Zhang Dengqing proactively followed.

He just wanted Gu Xiaodeng to get his wish.