Chapter 9

Before dawn, Gu Yiran had already finished reviewing the lessons from the private tutoring class he attended the previous day.

He tossed three or four pieces of firewood into the nearly extinguished stove pit, picked up a fire stick, and began practicing in the yard.

In his past life, he started training late, but this time he began learning martial arts several years earlier.

Gu Yiran was diligent and hardworking; every day, besides doing chores, he either studied or trained his body. His intense drive for learning perfectly complemented the lazy spirit of that other person who was still rolling around and sleeping on the kang.

After practicing his punches and kicks, he washed off in the courtyard with cold water, shirtless.

Snow was imminent; the clouds drifting from the mountains were heavy and dense.

Flocks of wild geese had already flown south, and icicles were beginning to form along the eaves.

He washed away his sweat, leaving behind a fresh, soapy fragrance, then went inside.

Even without being told, Gu Yiran knew his young aunt was fastidious about cleanliness. The washbasins were divided into separate ones for the face, feet, and private parts.

He used to think he was a clean person, but compared to her, he still fell short. Wanting to make a good impression on her, he paid extra attention to his personal hygiene and tidiness.

He rubbed his stubbly hair with a towel a couple of times and tossed it aside. Water droplets dripped from his jawline onto the ground; his muscular back, still damp, didn’t feel cold. Having just exercised, his whole body was warm and steaming.

“Brother Yiran, my mother said she wants to give you ten big cabbages. She sent me to pick them up,” said Xiangcai timidly standing outside the yard, waiting for the sound of Gu Yiran’s shower to stop before speaking.

Gu Yiran seemed to have grown taller, his arms long. He walked to the yellow mud wall, picked up two big cabbages, and handed them to Xiangcai. “I’ll take the rest. Can you carry these?”

Xiangcai was sixteen, with acne and scars on her cheeks. Embarrassed to look at the handsome and upright Gu Yiran, she lowered her head and said, “I can, I can carry them.”

Gu Yiran pressed his lips slightly and glanced toward the direction where someone was still snoring on the kang. Indeed, who could compare to her? She was no ordinary person.

Xiangcai returned home first, and Gu Yiran stopped at her doorstep.

Xiangcai’s mother had gone to the market early; he didn’t want to enter alone.

The house was made of blue bricks and tiles, once a decent home. After her father passed away, losing a laborer, and when she was still small, life was hard.

Now that she was older, her mother’s burden had eased somewhat.

Though the blue brick house was old, it was neat and orderly. Thin dry branches piled in the corner had been collected by Xiangcai and her sisters from the mountain, covered with straw mats.

Next to it was a small chicken coop, about two square meters, housing only one hen. Thanks to Xiangcai’s careful care, it had grown quite plump and laid an egg every now and then.

Gu Yiran handed over the cabbages and turned to leave but was called back by Xiangcai. “Hey, Brother Yiran, wait a moment. I have something to ask you.”

***

Su Liuhe woke up groggily, her flushed cheeks warmed by the heated kang. Just awake, her bright apricot eyes glanced outside.

The usual place where Gu Yiran took his showers was empty; missing her daily scene, she slipped on her shoes and went out.

Seeing Su Liuhe running outside without a cotton jacket, Gu Yiran quickly rushed back inside to fetch one and draped it over her.

“Why do I hear someone crying?” Su Liuhe had keen ears. With no entertainment in the village, she had developed a sharp sense for any commotion and would always go see what was happening.

Gu Yiran didn’t want to lie to Su Liuhe but also didn’t want to harm Xiangcai’s reputation. As he hesitated, Su Liuhe was already stepping toward Xiangcai’s house.

Xiangcai had sparse yellow hair, a flat nose, and acne scars on her face, already insecure compared to her peers. Gathering courage, she wanted to ask Gu Yiran how he managed to improve his skin day by day.

Partly to flatter and get closer to the handsome youth she liked, and partly because she genuinely wanted to change her appearance, to stop being mocked for her acne scars.

Gu Yiran told her it was all natural beauty and couldn’t help her, then turned away with a gaze mixing slight disdain and strong confidence.

Xiangcai watched the beautiful young man’s back, deeply discouraged, her silent sobs turning into loud wails.

“...” Su Liuhe sat nearby, hugging her knees.

***

The words sounded familiar.

She realized she often sighed in front of the mirror, applying clam oil to her hair, praising “natural beauty,” “fair and lovely,” “skin like cream,” and the like.

The bad traits just ran in the family so quickly?!

He learned things indiscriminately, like a starving wolf!

Su Liuhe dashed back home, stuffing some chestnut pancakes she had baked yesterday into Xiangcai’s hand. “Actually, there’s a secret recipe. This is our ancestral beauty pancake. Here, take three pieces. Eat one a day and see how it works.”

Though small, Xiangcai was no fool. She sniffed and said, “Isn’t this just chestnut pancake? It’s even burned, sniff sniff.”

Su Liuhe said, “What the elders say must be true. How will you know if you don’t try?”

Xiangcai thought for a moment and said, “If it works, I’ll ask my mother to give you two extra cabbages.”

Su Liuhe’s eyes darkened. Being unable to carry cabbages was her constant source of embarrassment, and she blamed Xiangcai’s mother for it.

She quickly said, “I don’t want cabbages. If it works, just make sure your mother stops calling me a ‘good-for-nothing’ behind my back.”

“Ah? So you know about that,” Xiangcai blurted out, still naive.

Su Liuhe slapped her thigh. “I knew your mother and I are plastic sisters!”

The chestnut pancake was a culinary invention from her days in England, developed in a food desert: “Anyway, she’s not allowed to say that anymore.”

Xiangcai blushed and asked, “How should I take it? Any taboos?”

Su Liuhe stood up to leave. “Eat slowly.”

“Afraid the effect will be too strong?” Xiangcai asked.

Su Liuhe glanced at her like she was a fool. “Afraid you’ll choke.”

***

In the Central Advanced Sanatorium of Jingshi, snow blanketed the elegant environment.

“Commander Gu.”

“How’s her condition?”

“Madam took some wild ginseng chicken soup today, but her spirits are still low. The test results will be out tomorrow. Overall, there’s no improvement.”

Gu Zhongjia had just returned dust-covered from overseeing the tri-service exercises in the northwest. The first thing he did was visit his wife, Tong Hongyan, who was recuperating at the sanatorium.

Outside the independent convalescent villa stood four guards. Gu Zhongjia ascended to the second floor and saw his wife, over forty yet still graceful.

He was ten years her senior. He had fallen in love at first sight watching her portray a beautiful yet resolute revolutionary character on the cinema screen.

After many twists and turns, he won her over; the next year, they had a chubby boy. Their family was happy and his career flourishing.

But then the betrayal and espionage incident happened!

Someone close to him kidnapped their only son to coerce him into abandoning the coastal patrol plans in the south.

As a revolutionary soldier, he had long pledged his life and blood to the country. Under relentless enemy pressure, he chose the nation and the people's safety over everything.

His wife fell ill and never recovered, and he himself was nearly framed, standing on the edge of a precipice.

More than ten years later, the great commander who had wielded life and death on the battlefield was still haunted by the missing son, a constant ache in his heart.

“Dad, why don’t you come in?” Gu Xiaowen, bearing a striking resemblance to Gu Zhongjia, wearing a high-quality wool coat and first-layer leather shoes, pushed open the door with a smile. “I just finished talking to Mom and was thinking if she should rest a bit.”

Gu Zhongjia nodded at him, passed by, and saw Tong Hongyan sitting by the window. After carefully washing his hands and handing his military coat to Gu Xiaowen, he approached and gently touched his wife’s hand. “Still warm.”

Tong Hongyan, weary from the recent examination, was tired. Gu Xiaowen pulled her into idle chatter, which she found tiresome.

***

Gu Xiaowen was found by her husband’s people five years after their biological son was abducted.

Weak and kitten-like, he called them “Dad” and “Mom” upon meeting.

Though resembling them somewhat, Tong Hongyan knew at first sight he wasn’t her son.

A mother’s heart knows no time; even after five, ten, or twenty years without seeing her son, if a shadow appeared in a crowd, she was certain she could recognize him.

Gu Zhongjia lied to her, saying Gu Xiaowen was their son, that their son had been found.

She couldn’t bring herself to expose his lie, knowing her husband’s worry was to prevent her from further distress and vomiting blood. Seeing the white hair at his temples and the bloodshot eyes, she bit her lip and accepted Gu Xiaowen as a balm to her soul.

Even though everyone knew their son would never return. Captured spies said that during their escape, they threw the crying child into a pack of hungry wolves, watching as wild wolves surrounded him.

No bones of the child would remain.

Gu Zhongjia cared for his wife’s feelings; Tong Hongyan appreciated her husband’s pain. Outwardly, the family maintained a semblance of harmony.

“You should go back now,” Tong Hongyan told Gu Xiaowen. “You’ve been with me all morning and should rest well. When you go home, don’t hang out drinking or partying with those friends; focus on your studies.”

Gu Xiaowen shyly scratched his head. “Mom, you know, I want to study. But I got my brain from Dad. I can only muddle along in the army; I really can’t do anything else.”

Gu Zhongjia turned to him with an imposing tone. “Muddle along? Do you think the army is easy to muddle through? If you mess up in society, that’s a small matter. If you mess up in the army, it’s a huge deal! Do you think the army is a place you can just walk into? The waters are deeper than you think.”

“I was wrong, Dad. Please don’t be mad. I just want to establish myself early so you don’t have to work so hard.”

Gu Xiaowen grew older and felt increasingly unlike Gu Zhongjia. He was anxious.

Gu Zhongjia was tall and imposing, with a decisive manner in business. Gu Xiaowen, looking like a skinny monkey, was timid around them and disliked by others.

Gu Zhongjia understood the meaning behind his words: he was impatient for Gu Xiaowen to be assigned to the army, expressing it openly.

Tong Hongyan tried to mediate: “You two always quarrel when you meet. Which father and son are like you two? Alright, Xiaowen, you go back. Your father and I need to talk.”

Gu Xiaowen stood at the door, ready to leave, but Gu Zhongjia called out, “Look at what you’re wearing! Go back and change it immediately. Still not sensitive enough?”

“Got it, Dad. I’m going. Mom, take good care of yourself. I’m going out of town tomorrow; I’ll bring you something back.”

After he left, Gu Zhongjia stood at the door, silently fuming. He thought he should have sent Gu Xiaowen to participate in the “Up to the Mountains and Down to the Countryside” movement.

Tong Hongyan sat quietly, sighing.

She had raised another’s son for over ten years without any regrets. She hoped heaven would see this and allow her to reunite with her biological son after death.

Outside the sanatorium, Gu Xiaowen got into a small car and glanced at his wristwatch.

Two young men smoking inside quickly stubbed out their cigarettes as he approached. “Young Master Gu, shall we set off now?”

Gu Zhongjia was tight with money. Whenever Gu Xiaowen asked his mother for funds, she gave him a roll of bills and told him to spend sparingly.

One of the young men, noticing Gu Xiaowen’s somber expression, asked, “Commander Gu still won’t agree to you training in the army?”

After a moment’s silence from Gu Xiaowen, the two understood.

The young man beside Gu Xiaowen muttered, “He’s Commander Gu’s only son. Why doesn’t he care about you at all?”

Gu Xiaowen would never reveal his identity to the playboy youths of Jingshi. These years, he had accepted the son was dead. Even if he was the Gu family’s adopted son, he was still the legitimate eldest young master.

Gu Xiaowen shrugged dismissively. “Who knows? My old man is like that. I’ll talk when the time comes.”

The driver said, “Well, your family’s business is big. It’ll all be yours eventually. No need to rush. The guys all envy you so much. Remember to look out for us later.”

Gu Xiaowen looked out the window, smiling arrogantly.