The Innocent Heart - Chapter 25

“Guan Yueyao! Guan Yueyao! Wake up!” Early the next morning, just as dawn was breaking, Huo Qubing’s booming voice sounded again outside the door.

Actually, Wei Qing’s original intention was that although Guan Yueyao was still residing at the Wei residence, since he now held an official post, there was no reason for him to continue sharing a courtyard with Qubing. The previous day upon their return, he had already intended to have people prepare a separate courtyard for Guan Yueyao.

However, seeing that both youngsters looked rather unwilling, Wei Qing reconsidered. Since his good intentions were met with reluctance, forcing Guan Yueyao to move out would only earn him resentment, which was undesirable. Therefore, the previous day, he only commanded servants to tidy up Guan Yueyao’s side room thoroughly and arranged for his clothing and daily necessities to be prepared following Huo Qubing’s standard.

Consequently, this morning, after washing up, Huo Qubing saw no sign of activity in Guan Yueyao’s room. Knowing he was fond of sleeping in, Huo Qubing approached unceremoniously to disturb his peaceful slumber.

Woken by this loud “alarm clock,” Guan Yueyao rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed. He disliked having people present when sleeping, so he did not allow the maidservants Wei Qing had assigned to care for him to stay overnight. At this moment, he threw on some clothes, got out of bed, and hurried to the door, where Huo Qubing stood in the courtyard, fully dressed in his martial attire and brimming with energy.

“Ah Yao, hurry up! Get dressed, and let’s go for morning exercises,” Huo Qubing urged with eager expectation upon seeing the sleepy-eyed Guan Yueyao.

Without formalities, he walked in and sat down casually at the table in the living area.

“Go, bring the morning meal here; Qubing and Ah Yao will eat together later.”

With that, he watched contentedly as Guan Yueyao let out a yawn, scratched his messy hair, and headed toward the bedroom.

“Alas, your clothes here make morning practice truly inconvenient,” after only a short while, Guan Yueyao walked out again, frowning.

He was wearing a short tunic (duan ru) and short split-crotch trousers (duan hetang ku), and he held a cloth strip with which he had tied his still-short hair into a bun on top of his head, complaining as he emerged. Even the warriors of the early Han Dynasty, for ease of movement, wore short tunics, but most people paired them with long split-crotch trousers (chang hetang ku). Especially among the upper classes where etiquette was strict and there was no need for the labor convenience of the lower populace, those wearing short split-crotch trousers were exceedingly rare.

Guan Yueyao’s attire was something Huo Qubing had never witnessed before. He blinked and stared at Guan Yueyao for a long time before finally asking, “You are going to practice martial arts dressed like that?”

“What else? If I could, I would wear a short-sleeved T-shirt and shorts; wouldn’t that be more comfortable? These strange clothes are truly uncomfortable to wear.”

While speaking, Guan Yueyao took the cotton cloth in his hand, wiped his face, rinsed his mouth, and unceremoniously sat down opposite Huo Qubing, picking up a steamed bun (zheng bing) from the table and beginning to eat.

“Hurry up and eat! After we finish, we’ll do some warm-ups, and then we’ll go for a run,” Guan Yueyao devoured his food voraciously, but Huo Qubing listened, utterly confused.

“Run? Isn’t it squatting in a horse stance?” Huo Qubing had eagerly pulled Guan Yueyao up early this morning for this very moment.

Guan Yueyao shook his head: “When I used to practice martial arts, my physical training, skill training, combat training, and strength training—each session started at one hour. Squatting in a horse stance was only one part of it.”

These unfamiliar terms popped out of his friend’s mouth, leaving Huo Qubing bewildered, yet he subconsciously felt that these sounded like rather professional terms.

“That’s impossible today. At least for the morning, we have to enter the palace to study the classics in about an hour… I probably won’t be out until after lunch.” He pondered and then asked, “How long is your ‘one hour’?”

“60 minutes?”

Guan Yueyao’s reply briefly choked Huo Qubing, but he quickly understood: in the future world, people used a completely different concept of time. But being naturally intelligent, he quickly formulated a rather sound standard of measurement.

“In your place, do you have the concept of a ‘day’?”

After Huo Qubing’s question, Guan Yueyao quickly caught on: “Yes! A day is 24 hours!”

“Here, a day is divided into 12 shichen (two-hour periods). If we calculate based on that, one shichen should equal your two hours,” Huo Qubing said, stuffing the last bite of steamed bun into his mouth, taking a sip of fruit juice, and standing up. “We have at most half a shichen for practice this morning, and we need half an hour to prepare for entering the palace.”

Upon hearing this, Guan Yueyao no longer hesitated. He nodded, finished his steamed bun as quickly as possible, and left the side room with Huo Qubing.

Along the way, Guan Yueyao was recalling details and describing his previous training methods to Huo Qubing. In fact, during his childhood training, he had mostly just done whatever that man told him to do, knowing what to do but not necessarily why. Although Guan Yueyao harbored resentment toward him, recalling the details of the training now, he had to admit that while the man was a frivolous husband and father lacking responsibility, as a martial arts coach, he was indeed outstandingly capable. The teachings and training plans that he hadn’t deeply considered before now seemed to have a specific purpose when reviewed closely.

“This kind of food won’t do every day later on. If we are training, we need to replenish protein. Since there is no protein powder here, we will just eat more meat, eggs, and dairy.”

The two walked to the horse track in the residence. Under Guan Yueyao’s instruction, as they did warm-up exercises, Guan Yueyao continued to instruct.

“Is there some secret to how this warm-up exercise is done?” Huo Qubing tilted his head, watching Guan Yueyao perform the stretches, and copied his movements.

“Warming up before exercise can raise the temperature of the muscles, allowing them to relax, which reduces post-exercise muscle soreness. It also decreases the risk of sports injuries during exercise, promotes cardiopulmonary function, and increases endurance and stamina during exercise.”

Guan Yueyao had not learned all of this on his own; he was merely recalling scenes from his past training sessions in his mind. He had thought that any memory concerning that man would evoke disgust, but it turned out that memories related to training still brought him a sense of beauty.

“Ah Yao, let’s race! Whoever gets to the end of this track first!”

Finally finishing the warm-up exercises, Huo Qubing and Guan Yueyao stood at one end of the horse track, looking at the end point which seemed small and blurry due to the great distance.

“Then you are bound to lose,” Guan Yueyao glanced sideways at Huo Qubing and smiled confidently. His athletic nerve had always been superior, not just in saber practice. Combined with his rather competitive nature, he had once run the one-kilometer race in under four minutes during a school sports meet, breaking the school’s long-distance record—a record that remains unbroken to this day.

“I will count to one, two, three, and we run together,” Guan Yueyao looked at Huo Qubing, who was already preparing by rubbing his hands together beside him, and said seriously.

Huo Qubing nodded. Under Guan Yueyao’s calm command of “Three, two, one, Run!,” he sprinted toward the finish line. But quickly, he only saw a figure flash past his vision; Guan Yueyao had already shot out like an arrow loosed from a string, and in the blink of an eye, he had pulled a distance between them.

Huo Qubing considered himself no mediocre person; years of consistent training had given him a physique and stamina far superior to others his age. But regardless of the age difference between the two, Huo Qubing, who was well-versed in the ways of martial arts, could sense the gap deliberately created by the difference in their training methods from the gestures Guan Yueyao unintentionally revealed.

In his simple worldview and values, he did not know what human physiology or sports science were. But he understood that the seemingly casual words Guan Yueyao uttered must hold immense value. He couldn’t help but wonder: if he—no, if the entire Han Army—could train using such methods, what fear would there be of the seemingly ferocious and invincible Xiongnu cavalry?

Despite exerting all his strength, Huo Qubing could only reach the finish line far behind Guan Yueyao. The strenuous exercise made his throat ache, and he gasped for air.

“Don’t stop, keep walking, keep walking until your breathing evens out,” Guan Yueyao’s caring voice sounded in his ear. By this time, Huo Qubing was almost completely convinced by Guan Yueyao. He nodded and stood up, only to see his friend looking at him with a smile and a very relaxed expression.

“We’ll jog a few more laps later, then go back to wash up and change.”

“Why? You can run that fast,” Huo Qubing asked while still gasping heavily.

“Your rhythm is off; it’s fine, take it slowly. You’ve already run very fast; when I was ten, I probably couldn’t run as fast as you can. How do you feel? Can we start jogging slowly now?”

“We can,” Huo Qubing wiped the large beads of sweat from his forehead and said seriously. In truth, his racing heart had not yet fully returned to normal, but looking at the composed Guan Yueyao, a competitive spirit arose in Huo Qubing’s heart. He did not want to resign himself to being second to another; age, or the difference in training methods, should not be a reason for him to concede defeat.

“Then let’s start slowly,” Guan Yueyao reminded him thoughtfully, unaware of the resolution his friend had secretly made.

Soon, the two youngsters were jogging slowly around the horse track. Guan Yueyao had long legs and took large strides, and he was already accustomed to this training method. Before long, the two who had been side-by-side had shifted to the formation of Guan Yueyao in front, with Huo Qubing trailing behind.

Huo Qubing tried to follow Guan Yueyao’s breathing technique and kept pace with his friend’s strides.

By this time, the sun was already high in the sky, and the surroundings were completely bright. Looking at his friend’s slightly disheveled ‘bun’ and back against the light, Huo Qubing suddenly seemed to find the direction he needed to strive for. The fatigue and unwillingness vanished, replaced by an inexplicable surge of drive that made his steps lighter. It seemed, in an instant, that he had found his rhythm and, with increasingly firm steps, he began to chase after Guan Yueyao’s retreating figure with effort.