The Gu True Man

gradually drifting apart

The red sun sank westward, not yet fully set.

There was still light in the sky, but everything seemed veiled in a layer of gray. Looking out through the window, the distant mountains were gradually merging into a heavy black. Inside the hall, the light was dim; Uncle and Aunt sat high on the main seats, their expressions shadowed, hard to discern clearly.

When Uncle Gu Yue Dongtu saw the two jars of wine Fang Yuan had brought, his brows knotted. He spoke: "How time flies—you’re already fifteen. To think both of you have the aptitude to be gu masters, especially Fang Zheng. Your uncle and I are truly proud of you. I’ve prepared six yuan stones for each of you; take them. Refining gu worms consumes a great deal of true essence, and you’ll need these." With that, a servant stepped forward, handing Fang Yuan and Fang Zheng each a small pouch.

Fang Yuan tucked away the pouch, saying nothing.

Fang Zheng immediately opened the pouch’s mouth. Inside were six oval, grayish-white yuan stones. Gratitude surged onto his face. He stood from his seat, bowed to his uncle and aunt, and said: "Thank you, Uncle and Aunt. Nephew is just in need of yuan stones to replenish true essence. You’ve raised us this long—this kindness, I’ll remember forever, for all my life!"

Uncle nodded with a smile. Aunt quickly waved her hand, speaking gently to Fang Zheng: "Sit, sit. Though you’re not our biological sons, we’ve always raised you as our own. Your success makes us proud. Alas, we have no children of our own. Sometimes, we wish you really could be our sons."

The words held deep meaning. Fang Zheng didn’t catch it, but Fang Yuan’s brows furrowed slightly.

Sure enough, Uncle continued: "Your aunt and I have discussed it—we want to adopt you into our family, to be truly one. Fang Zheng, would you be willing?"

Fang Zheng paused, then joy spread across his face. He agreed at once: "To be honest, since our parents passed away, I’ve longed for a family. To be one with you and Aunt—this is wonderful!"

Aunt relaxed, smiling: "Then you’re our good son now. Still calling us Uncle and Aunt?"

"Father, Mother," Fang Zheng realized, hurrying to correct himself.

Uncle and Aunt laughed heartily.

"Good son. Not in vain we’ve raised you these ten years, since you were five," Aunt said, dabbing at her tears.

Uncle turned to the silent Fang Yuan, speaking mildly: "Fang Yuan, what do you think?"

Fang Yuan shook his head, saying nothing.

"Brother," Gu Yue Zheng began to persuade, but Uncle stopped him.

Uncle’s tone remained steady: "If that’s your wish, Nephew, we won’t force you. But you’re fifteen now—time to establish your own household, to make it easier to inherit your Fang clan branch. I’ve prepared two hundred yuan stones as support."

"Two hundred yuan stones!" Fang Zheng’s eyes widened. He’d never seen so many, a look of envy crossing his face.

Yet Fang Yuan still shook his head.

Fang Zheng was baffled. Uncle’s expression shifted slightly; Aunt’s face darkened.

"Uncle, Aunt, if there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave," Fang Yuan said, leaving no room for more words. He picked up the wine jars and walked straight out of the hall.

Fang Zheng stood: "Father, Mother, Brother’s just confused. Let me talk to him?"

Uncle waved a hand, sighing deliberately: "It can’t be forced. Your thoughtfulness is enough to please me. Someone, take Young Master Fang Zheng to his quarters, see he’s comfortable."

"Then I’ll take my leave," Fang Zheng said, departing. Silence fell over the hall.

The sun set completely; the hall grew darker.

After a long moment, Uncle’s cold voice cut through the dimness: "That brat Fang Yuan has seen through our scheme."

The Gu Yue clan rules clearly stated: a firstborn son, at sixteen, qualified to inherit family property.

Fang Yuan’s parents were long dead, leaving a substantial inheritance, "held in trust" by his uncle and aunt.

Its value far exceeded two hundred yuan stones.

If Fang Yuan, like Fang Zheng, was adopted, he’d lose the right to inherit. If he established his own household at fifteen, that also violated the clan’s inheritance rules.

"Thank goodness we’ve won over Fang Zheng, and Fang Yuan only has third-rate talent," Uncle sighed, relieved.

"Master, Fang Yuan clearly plans to wait until sixteen. What do we do?" Aunt asked anxiously, thinking of the inheritance.

"Hmph. If he’s set on this, he leaves us no choice. We’ll catch him in a grave fault before he comes of age—expel him from the clan, and he loses all right to inherit," Uncle snorted.

"But that brat’s too clever to make a mistake," Aunt puzzled.

Uncle rolled his eyes, whispering sharply: "Fool! If he won’t err, can’t we frame him? Let that girl Shen Cui seduce him, then scream for help. We’ll catch them red-handed, accuse him of drunken misconduct, of being a madman. How could he stay then?"

"Master, you’re brilliant! A perfect plan!" Aunt exclaimed, overjoyed.

Thick night spread; most of the stars were hidden by gathering clouds. Lights flickered to life in the village’s houses.

Gu Yue Zheng was led to a room.

"Young Master Zheng, the master personally ordered this room prepared just for you," Mammy Shen said obsequiously, bowing, her face crinkled with flattery.

Fang Zheng looked around, eyes bright. The room was twice as large as his old one: a wide bed in the center, a sandalwood desk by the window with fine ink, brush, paper, and inkstone, elegant ornaments on the walls. Even the floor was covered in soft hand-woven carpet.

He’d never lived so well. He nodded repeatedly: "This is lovely. Thank you, Mammy Shen."

Mammy Shen was Aunt’s most trusted servant, managing all household staff—a true steward. Shen Cui, Fang Yuan’s personal maid, was her daughter.

Mammy Shen chuckled: "Your thanks honor me, Young Master. It’s my duty! Eat well, sleep well—ring the bell by the bed for anything, and servants will come at once. The master said to focus on cultivation; leave all else to us."

Gratitude swelled in Fang Zheng’s heart. He said nothing, resolving silently: This time, I’ll take first place. I won’t let Father and Mother down!

...

Clouds thickened; night deepened. Stars were all but smothered by dark clouds. Mountain winds howled, growing stronger.

A storm was coming.

But exploration waited. The inheritance would have to wait until he turned sixteen next year. The Drunken Flower Wanderer’s treasure—that might be his soon.

The streets were empty. Dim light seeped from houses. Trash, leaves, dust swirled in the wind.

Fang Yuan’s thin clothes barely kept out the cold; a shiver ran through him.

He uncorked a wine jar, taking a small sip. Coarse as it was, warmth spread after swallowing.

His first real drink in days.

Nearer the village gate, houses thinned; lights dimmed.

Ahead lay thick darkness. Winds pressed on the forest; branches tossed in the night, howling like roaring beasts.

Fang Yuan’s steps never faltered. He left the village, walking farther into the dark path.

Behind him, the village blazed with warm lights.

In one bright corner, his brother Gu Yue Zheng sat at a desk, reviewing class notes. The room was well-lit; solid walls blocked the wind. A cup of warm ginseng tea steamed beside him.

"Young Master Zheng, your bath water’s ready," Shen Cui called softly from outside.

Fang Zheng’s heart stirred: "Bring it in."

Shen Cui entered, her smile filled with seductive charm, hips swaying.

"Your servant greets Young Master Zheng," she said, eyes full of longing. Fang Yuan was only third-rate; Fang Zheng had top-tier talent. Clinging to him meant true fortune!