Fourteen thousand and fourteen

Autumn of the sixteenth year of Jing Shuo, early morning at the Changping Marquis’s training ground was already filled with Fu Yuzhang’s excited shouts: “Brother is amazing!”

It was mid-autumn, the seventh lunar month when the fire of summer fades and the air turns crisp. Fu Yuzhang and Fu Huai’an wore matching pale blue-gray training suits, their pants neatly cuffed, sleeves secured by bands, black wrist guards in place, and their hair tied high with forehead bands matching their attire, presenting a sharp, capable appearance.

The two stood side by side on the Marquis’s training ground. Fu Yuzhang was panting heavily from exhaustion, while Fu Huai’an remained as steady as a mountain, executing a set of punches with fierce vigor.

Watching intently, Fu Yuzhang wiped the sweat from his brow, tilted his head back, and downed the purple perilla drink in his hand, reinvigorated, eagerly rejoining the ranks of those practicing martial arts.

The joy of working up a sweat and the dopamine it released felt truly wonderful!

Four years had passed. The five-year-old Fu Yuzhang was no longer the chubby toddler with a disproportionate head-to-body ratio; he had grown nearly two and a half heads taller, shooting up significantly. More importantly, he could finally run around energetically, carefree! In earlier years, when Fu Yuzhang could barely walk steadily, his wet nurses and maids trailed closely behind him, alarmed at even the slightest exertion. Restrictions abounded—this he could not do, that he could not go there—and no one knew how long Fu Yuzhang had endured such limitations.

It wasn’t until last year, after Fu Yuzhang had shot up in size, that he dragged Fu Huai’an straight to the training ground. With bright, sparkling eyes, he looked at Fu Yuan, who was practicing with a sword, and shouted loudly, “Father, we want to learn too!”

So cool!

Fu Yuan hadn’t expected such a tiny child to make such a request; he raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You two?”

A teasing insult! Fu Yuzhang puffed up his cheeks indignantly and repeated in his clear childlike voice, “Yes! We want to learn!”

Fu Yuan eyed the sturdy little figure before him and teased, feigning doubt, “Martial arts aren’t just about brains—you need to train hard. Can you endure the hardship?”

Fu Yuzhang fell for it and puffed out his cheeks even more, “Don’t underestimate me, Father! I can definitely persevere!”

Fu Yuan chuckled silently but maintained a reluctant, slightly disdainful air. “Teaching children is always troublesome.”

Fu Yuzhang immediately stepped forward, eager to flatter, pinching Fu Yuan's wrist. Due to his height, he could barely reach the wrist, not the arm or shoulder, but that was never his real goal. His hands moved busily, earnestly pleading for a chance to train. “Father, my brother and I have always been well-behaved, not troublesome at all. Ask Master Zhou—he teaches us brothers, and it’s quite effortless!”

Fu Yuan watched his usually spirited and occasionally contrary youngest son showering him with flattery. His heart felt as refreshing as drinking an icy cold dessert on a sweltering summer day.

Fu Yuzhang waited eagerly for his father’s response, but Fu Yuan gave him a playful, half-smile and asked with interest, “Oh? You say you’re well-behaved? Then who secretly took the new jade spring teapot to their room yesterday?”

Fu Yuzhang felt a twinge of guilt but was quick to answer with conviction, “Beautiful things should be shared, Father. We’re family, so what’s yours is ours, isn’t it?”

The child’s smooth talk only made Fu Yuan’s expression more complex. Crossing his arms, he looked at Fu Yuzhang thoughtfully. “Then why did you run off the moment I raised my hand slightly?”

Fu Yuzhang quietly edged backward all the way to stand behind Fu Huai’an. The older brother, experienced and calm, stepped forward half a pace, shielding him.

Feeling more confident behind Fu Huai’an, Fu Yuzhang peeked out and argued earnestly, “Master said, ‘A small stick is endured, a big stick is fled from.’ I’m just trying to prevent Father from falling into an unjust position!”

Master Zhou, who had arrived following the commotion, felt as if a huge burden had suddenly fallen from the sky. Standing with arms folded, he regarded Fu Yuzhang with a half-smile, tone dripping with playful sarcasm: “Young Master, you really are quick to put what you learn into practice.”

Fu Yuzhang rubbed his nose sheepishly and chuckled, “All thanks to Master.”

Fu Yuan was too guilty to meet Master Zhou’s gaze. His mischievous son causing trouble before the master truly tested a father’s patience.

Yet when matters grew serious, Fu Yuan did not shirk. He turned to Master Zhou with a stern face: “Young Master Zhang is too unruly. Should he behave improperly, Brother Zijing will punish him.”

Master Zhou smiled and looked at Fu Yuan: “You say that, but why don’t you punish him yourself, Marquis? After all, he is your own son.”

Fu Yuan averted his eyes casually, just catching Fu Yuzhang’s expectant gaze.

He sighed deeply inwardly: With this child, how could he bear to be harsh?

Fu Yuzhang, sensing his father’s hesitation, suddenly became lively again, hopping forward to embrace Fu Yuan’s thigh, looking up at him admiringly and showering him with praise: “Father’s swordsmanship is brave and heroic! The sword wind is fierce and unstoppable. I long to learn from you. Please teach me!”

Fu Yuan’s lips twitched in a restrained smile. He nodded quietly, with a hint of helplessness. “Why are you so clingy? Very well, if you want to learn, practicing punches and kicks is also good. From now on, every morning after waking, you two brothers will come to the training ground to practice.”

Fu Yuzhang eyed the array of swords, spears, and halberds arranged nearby, salivating and eager to try weapons, but Fu Yuan mercilessly teased, “You don’t have the height for a sword yet. Can you even wield one?”

Fu Huai’an’s size was suitable for weapons training, but he preferred to stick close to his younger brother, so the two practiced their punches and kicks together.

A year passed. The brothers trained through scorching summers and freezing winters, remarkably sticking to their routine. Even Fu Yuzhang, once thought delicate by Fu Yuan, never complained aloud. Horse stance, bow stance, thrusts, palm strikes, pushes—their basic techniques were all executed with precision and without a single cry of fatigue.

Fu Yuan was surprised and proud. One day, over drinks with Master Zhou, once the wine loosened his tongue, he spoke at length praising the two brothers for nearly half a cup’s worth of time.

Fu Yuzhang teased, and upon hearing this, immediately dragged Fu Huai’an to listen. Their father was rarely one to lavish praise, so hearing such compliments felt wonderful!

Not only that, Fu Yuzhang painstakingly recorded every word, later dictating it to Fu Huai’an to write down. The next morning, before Fu Yuan had even fully woken, Fu Yuzhang stood at the main courtyard gate, loudly reciting the transcript with lively intonation, every word sincere, perfectly mimicking his father’s drunken praises from the previous day.

Fu Yuan, struck down first thing in the morning, thought: This beating is inevitable!

Of course, Fu Yuzhang had long seen through his father’s bluster. After his morning mischief, he would swiftly flee to his brother for rescue, leaving Fu Yuan exasperated enough to want to go to the ancestral hall and ask their ancestors what sin he had committed to deserve such a mischievous child.

Ever since Fu Yuzhang could run, jump, and sprint for his life, the father-son relationship frequently “heated up”—all from frustration.

At this moment, the atmosphere among the three was actually quite pleasant. Fu Yuzhang stood straight-faced behind Fu Huai’an, punching, kicking, and striking. Though still a bit stubby, his moves were all very precise, clearly showing a solid foundation.

Fu Yuan watched from the side with deep satisfaction. He had expected his two prodigious sons to follow the path of civil service through scholarly pursuit, becoming thorough men of letters. He never imagined the brothers would also take an interest in martial arts and be willing to learn from him. Though Fu Yuan said nothing, he was quietly pleased.

Fu Yuzhang thought to himself: I’m just adding a physical education class for myself.

In his previous life, Fu Yuzhang envied those lively children who could run and jump freely. While hospitalized, he had watched with envy as kids happily rolled on the grass lawn. His own condition had never allowed such freedom, let alone participating in physical education or fitness tests.

Now he could eat, sleep, run, and jump healthily. Fu Yuzhang let himself fully enjoy the happiness he had missed.

With increasingly forceful strikes, he even faintly heard the rush of air. Fu Huai’an’s punches and kicks were even more skillful; his long limbs made his movements a joy to behold.

After half an hour of practice, the brothers were drenched in sweat but wore satisfied smiles. Exercise and sweat truly brought great joy!

Fu Yuzhang began to boast, “I wonder which palace guard is going to have a headache today?”

Since being outwitted by the Crown Prince, Fu Yuzhang had begun a playful rivalry with him. The Crown Prince asked the brothers to write letters reporting their progress, and Fu Yuzhang took every opportunity to challenge him fiercely, making sure no one got an easy win.

To be fair, the Crown Prince was extraordinarily gifted. But he had met his match in the Fu brothers. The elder was the original author’s son, the intellectual pinnacle of the entire book; the younger, Fu Yuzhang, was equally extraordinary, with exceptional experience, willpower, and learning ability. The Crown Prince, only two years older, was truly worn out by the competition.

But stubborn as ever, the Crown Prince refused to admit defeat. Whenever Fu Yuzhang learned something new, he immediately caught up.

So when Fu Yuzhang proudly mentioned in a letter that he had begun training martial arts with his father, the Crown Prince was not to be outdone and demanded from Emperor Jing Shuo himself: he wanted to learn martial arts too!

In reality, the Great Qi Empire favored scholars over warriors. Military officials never ranked as high as civil officials. Emperor Jing Shuo never expected the Crown Prince to make such a request.

After hearing the full story, Emperor Jing Shuo was silent for a long moment before agreeing: “Then select a few from the palace guards to take turns teaching him.”

Children who started practicing martial arts typically gave up when faced with hardship.

But Emperor Jing Shuo did not expect Fu Yuzhang to persevere without missing a single day. His obstinate Crown Prince also endured through to the end.

Emperor Jing Shuo thought: Have even children these days become so resolute?

As a result, the palace guards gained the new duty of instructing the Crown Prince.

This was a great advancement for the military!

The warriors were delighted: The Marquis of Changping is truly one of us, always thinking of our interests! Who wouldn’t want more chances to appear before the officials and the Crown Prince?

The civil officials, however, felt complicated: Oh, Marquis of Changping, always scheming, shamelessly using young children as pawns!

Fu Yuan, once again caught in his son’s schemes, thought: …Well, all I can do is accept this blame. What else can I do?

Unaware that he had inadvertently burdened his father again, Fu Yuzhang found writing letters to provoke the Crown Prince endlessly entertaining—like playing a feeding game where sending a letter guaranteed a fiery response, repeatedly addictive.

After training, Fu Yuzhang and Fu Huai’an washed up before heading to the west wing.

Now their lessons were deliberately separated by Master Zhou—not because Fu Yuzhang couldn’t keep up with Fu Huai’an. On the contrary, Fu Yuzhang had barely interacted with normal children across two lifetimes and was unaware of typical learning speeds. Naturally, his youthful heart aligned with Fu Huai’an’s pace.

Master Zhou noticed this and deliberately staggered their lesson schedules.

In other words, Fu Yuzhang moved from being an auditor to a formal student with a different pace from Fu Huai’an.

Fu Yuzhang was quite upset; this meant he couldn’t have Fu Huai’an teach him on the spot anymore!

Fu Yuan was puzzled. If Fu Yuzhang could keep up with Fu Huai’an, wouldn’t it be better for the brothers to attend classes together?

Master Zhou had his own view: “The heir apparent is steady and will soon take the prodigy examination and receive an official appointment. Marquis, you have no worries there. But if the younger son immediately takes office…”

Fu Yuan shuddered at the thought and weakly waved his hand: “Brother Zijing, no need to say more. I understand.”

Thus, Fu Yuzhang officially became a formal student, no longer shadowing Fu Huai’an’s progress. He had to learn at his own pace. If his prodigy reputation held, his learning speed would be impressive; if not, he’d be a cautionary tale. Perhaps one day he’d write a piece titled “The Decline of Yuzhang,” which might even be included in future language textbooks!

Produced and sold by the same hand, honest and fair!

Ever carefree and self-entertaining, Fu Yuzhang even began imagining writing such an article.

Alas, he had no extraordinary omens in childhood, showing there was a difference between a false prodigy and a true genius.

Heaven treats them differently!

The imperial examinations in Great Qi were not the stereotypical rigid essays Fu Yuzhang remembered; they were inclusive, covering the familiar Confucian classics—the Four Books and Five Classics—as well as historical texts from the past twenty dynasties, literary collections such as “Wen Xuan” and anthologies of great writers, and legal codes like the “Qi Laws.” The content was vast, filling an entire large room with original volumes—books so numerous that even affluent families would struggle to acquire them all.

Especially the historical records from twenty dynasties, authored by multiple historians, each with unique perspectives. Exam questions could draw from any version, depending entirely on the examiner’s preferences. This demanded enormous reading and memorization from candidates. Anyone who studied history knew the sheer volume was overwhelming, enough to drive one to despair near finals. Now they had to memorize various versions, integrate them, understand their contexts, and grasp each historian’s biases…

The sheer volume was deadly.

Fu Yuzhang had a slight advantage, but after four years, he still hadn’t finished reading all the vast collections of classics, histories, and literary works.

Master Zhou deliberately tempered Fu Yuzhang’s temperament. His academic progress lagged behind Fu Huai’an’s; Fu Yuzhang was still studying the “Spring and Autumn Annals” while Fu Huai’an had already advanced to the “Qi Laws.”

Fu Yuzhang had thought the “Spring and Autumn Annals” was only about eighteen thousand characters and that with effort, he could memorize it in a few days. But who told him there were so many annotations? Had Master Zhou gathered all the surviving commentaries? Why would a seemingly simple phrase like “King’s First Month” be elaborated upon by a great scholar of a previous dynasty with nearly ten thousand words of notes?

Absurd!

Looking at the various annotated versions of the “Spring and Autumn Annals” in his hands, Fu Yuzhang smiled mysteriously and hurriedly wrote to the Crown Prince at court:

“Your Highness, I have begun studying the ‘Spring and Autumn Annals’! This book is quite simple, just over ten thousand characters, and I’ll memorize it soon~”

Fu Yuan, inspecting the letter, was speechless.

All he could do was silently pray for the Crown Prince.