The door creaked softly.
Guo Jing squeezed through the doorway with a smile plastered across his face, clutching a quilt in his arms and a wooden pillow tucked under his armpit.
"Guo'er."
"You're not asleep yet, are you?"
Yang Guo sat by the edge of the bed, looking back and forth between Guo Jing and the quilt in his arms.
He closed the door and eyed him up and down:
"Uncle Guo, did you... get into a fight with Aunt Guo?"
Guo Jing's old face stiffened. Hugging the quilt a bit tighter, he shook his head repeatedly:
"You silly kid, stop making wild guesses!"
"Your Aunt Guo is as virtuous as can be, how could that happen?"
"Your Uncle Guo just thought you might feel out of place having just arrived on the island, so I came over specifically to chat with you."
Yang Guo put on an understanding look, nodding repeatedly:
"Understood, I get it."
"A man's gotta save face in front of others."
Guo Jing said helplessly:
"Guo'er, it really isn't what you think..."
Bending down, Guo Jing went ahead and spread out the cotton quilt onto the blue flagstone floor.
Yang Guo frowned and said:
"Uncle Guo, the floor is damp and cold. Come sleep on the bed."
Guo Jing patted the laid-out mattress pad and said with a smile:
"It's fine, Guo'er."
"Back when I was in the desert,"
"I even slept in the snow."
"This is nothing."
"You still have a poison wound on you, and the bed is spacious. You'll sleep more comfortably by yourself."
Yang Guo immediately shifted over to leave a large space on the inner side of the bed.
Then he patted the spot.
"Look for yourself."
"It's so wide."
"Forget just the two of us,"
"even if we crammed First Master in here, he could still lie down."
Clutching his pillow, Guo Jing still hesitated beside the bed.
Yang Guo continued:
"If you really sleep on the floor,"
"and Aunt Guo finds out tomorrow morning,"
"she'll probably say I'm inconsiderate."
Yang Guo lay back on the bed, resting his head on his hands:
"If you insist on sleeping on the floor, fine."
"Then I'll just have to go sleep on a tree branch in the courtyard."
Guo Jing's expression changed.
"Guo'er, stop messing around. You're still injured."
Yang Guo said, "Then come up here."
Guo Jing had no choice but to place his quilt on the bed.
And so, the uncle and nephew—one big, one small—crammed onto a single bed.
As the two lay on the bed, Guo Jing asked Yang Guo about his experiences over the years.
Yang Guo knew Guo Jing wanted to understand how much hardship he had suffered in the past.
It wasn't that Yang Guo hadn't suffered; he just didn't want to parade his misery for sympathy.
He didn't say a single word about freezing or starving, choosing instead to share amusing stories of playing tricks on local bullies in the marketplace.
Guo Jing listened in stunned silence, feeling both heartbroken and deeply pained by how clever the boy had been forced to become.
If not to survive, what ten-something-year-old child would ever be driven to come up with such a bellyful of tricky schemes?
Inside the room, the red candles crackled as they burned.
After chatting for quite a while, Guo Jing cleared his throat and rubbed his large hands together awkwardly:
"Guo'er, earlier back at the ruined temple, when I checked your pulse, I noticed a foundation of inner force of utmost strength and utmost Yang protecting your heart meridian.
"The style..."
"I couldn't tell what it was."
"Have you... studied martial arts under some master?"
Naturally, Yang Guo couldn't reveal the 《Nine Yang Manual》.
His eyes rolled, and he replied with utter sincerity:
"Uncle Guo, back when I was begging in Jiaxing, I ran into a kind old monk."
"Seeing how pitiful I was, he taught me a few breathing techniques to ward off the cold."
"However, he made me swear a solemn oath never to reveal a single word about the origins of the technique to anyone."
"Otherwise, my intestines would rot and burst!"
If Huang Rong had heard these words, she would have probed indirectly until she tore a hole right through his story.
Unfortunately for skepticism, the one sitting beside him was the honest-to-a-fault Guo Jing.
Upon hearing this, Guo Jing's expression turned solemn. Far from harboring the slightest suspicion, his face was filled with admiration.
He clapped Yang Guo on the shoulder:
"Good! A real man keeps his promises!"
"A man cannot stand without integrity! Since you swore an oath and promised that eminent Buddhist monk, even if it rots in your belly, you must never utter a single word!"
Rubbing his stinging shoulder, Yang Guo let out two dry laughs:
"I'll remember that. I won't tell even Aunt Guo."
Guo Jing stared at the bed canopy above, a hint of nostalgia surfacing in his eyes:
"Guo'er, actually... when your Uncle Guo was little in the desert, I went through something similar."
"From a young age, your Uncle Guo was slow-witted. I couldn't even practice the horse stance taught by my six masters properly."
A warm, honest smile spread across the corners of Guo Jing's mouth:
"Back then, Daoist Ma Yu of the Quanzhen Sect passed by the grasslands. Seeing that I had a pure and kind heart, he secretly led me up to the cliff top every night."
"He taught me the authentic Taoist breathing mental technique of the Quanzhen Sect, and likewise warned me never to reveal a single word to outsiders."
"But when my masters saw my inner force suddenly surge, they thought I had secretly taken an evil person as a master and learned wicked unorthodox ways behind their backs. They were going to beat me up on the spot."
Naturally, Yang Guo knew this part of the story. Turning his head, he looked at Guo Jing:
"Come off it, Uncle Guo. Don't I know First Master's temper?"
"I bet back then he swung his steel staff full force, aiming straight to clear out the sect traitor, right?"
Guo Jing unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck and smiled:
"It wasn't quite a beating to the death..."
"First Master still cherished our past bond."
"He only smashed two red willow poles as thick as bowls,"
"and chased me around the yurt eight and a half times."
Yang Guo froze, then asked with a smile:
"Why eight and a half times?"
Guo Jing said seriously:
"Halfway through the eighth lap,"
"Seventh Master drew her sword and stopped First Master right in his tracks."
Yang Guo thought:
"Maiden's Sword—Han Xiaoying really could be considered Uncle Guo's second mother."
Guo Jing continued:
"Later, Daoist Ma arrived in time and explained the reason, so I was spared."
Guo Jing turned on his side, looking a bit embarrassed, and coughed softly:
"By the way, Guo'er, your Aunt Guo discussed something with me today."
"Since you've been wandering the streets all these years and haven't had a proper education, she plans to personally teach you to read, write, cultivate your mind, and understand reason starting tomorrow."
"As for practicing martial arts, let's put that on hold for now. There's no rush for the moment."
Yang Guo tucked both hands behind his pillow, putting on an obedient and sensible look:
"Aunt Guo makes total sense!"
"As the saying goes, cultivate virtue before martial arts. If you don't have a drop of ink in your belly and don't even know how to write 'loyalty' and 'righteousness,' even if you practice martial arts, you'll just be a brute!"
"If you can't even distinguish right from wrong,"
"wouldn't higher martial skills just mean causing bigger trouble?"
Guo Jing nodded repeatedly as he listened, nodding like a woodpecker in delight:
"Right!"
"Right!"
"Right!"
"That's exactly the idea!"
Guo Jing originally thought Yang Guo would be somewhat dissatisfied upon hearing this.
But hearing how understanding Yang Guo was now, his eyes widened like copper bells, and he slapped his thigh in sheer relief:
"Guo'er! Good boy!"
"It really is wonderful that you can appreciate your Aunt Guo's good intentions!"
While Yang Guo agreed on the surface, he was hardly convinced deep down:
"Cultivate virtue and understand reason? Sounds real nice."
"Does Aunt Guo really think I can't see through that clever heart of hers?"
"Under the guise of teaching me literacy, she's simply guarding against me with every fiber of her being."
Yet on second thought, Yang Guo couldn't bring himself to feel much resentment.
"It's no wonder Aunt Guo is on guard."
"She, the Female Zhuge of the jianghu, along with Uncle Guo, was screwed over several times back in the day by my cheap excuse for a father."
Grudges spanning two generations had been tangled for half a lifetime.
Now, out of nowhere comes a kid whose features closely resemble Yang Kang's; anyone would be wary of bringing a wolf into the house.
Huang Rong being cautious was only human nature, completely logical and reasonable.
Understanding as he was, Yang Guo was still somewhat defiant.
"Aunt Guo wants to use the Four Books and Five Classics as a Tight-Fillet Spell to trap me in the beginner village reciting lessons?"
"Wants to use Master Kong's lofty principles to ban my account?"
"Not a chance in hell!"
Glancing sideways at Guo Jing, who was looking completely devoted to Huang Rong, Yang Guo felt an itch on his tongue:
"Uncle Guo, your reputation in the jianghu is resounding. Wherever you go, don't people respectfully address you as Hero Guo?"
"How come in private, Aunt Guo has you wrapped around her finger?"
"Are you really that afraid of Aunt Guo?"
Guo Jing's old face darkened, though there wasn't a trace of anger. Instead, he corrected him with utmost seriousness:
"Guo'er, don't talk nonsense, child."
"This isn't fear, this is respect!"
Guo Jing held up a finger, speaking with plausible justification:
"Your Aunt Guo's mind is a hundred times sharper than mine. What major matter in the world can be hidden from her eyes?"
"In many things, she thinks far more thoroughly than I do."
"When she makes sense, why shouldn't I listen to her?"
Yang Guo blinked: "What if Aunt Guo doesn't make sense?"
Guo Jing pondered for a moment: "Then I reason it out with her."
Yang Guo asked again: "Can you win an argument with her?"
Guo Jing paused: "Uh, sometimes..."
Yang Guo pressed: "Sometimes what?"
Guo Jing looked slightly embarrassed:
"Sometimes, as we talk,"
"I find that she was right after all."
Yang Guo grinned and thought to himself:
"Got it. You're just afraid."
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