The Innocent Heart - Chapter 92

That cry of surprise, tinged with a sharp edge of fear, brought the drill grounds to a sudden silence. Every gaze involuntarily turned toward the direction the soldier was pointing.

Guan Yueyao froze for a long while before it clicked that the “Bullshit” fellow the soldier was referring to was herself.

She flared up instantly, roaring back with a voice that was still hoarse: “Do you damn well know how to speak? You’re the one who is ‘Bullshit’!”

Her voice, sounding like a cracked gong, and her crude words instantly echoed across the quiet drill grounds. Yet, these harsh words did not silence the crowd; on the contrary, the roar of laughter erupted like dynamite ignited by a fuse.

Guan Yueyao’s face flushed red from the laughter, and she wished she could find a crack in the ground to crawl into. But then she thought—if she left now, wouldn’t she lose all face?

“Ayao, how do you feel today? Are you much better?”

Just as she was caught between staying and leaving, a question that barely suppressed a laugh dragged her out of that awkward predicament. She looked toward the approaching Huo Qubing as if he were a savior. But upon seeing his face, which still bore a lingering flush from his own laughter, she realized he had likely been part of the mockery.

He must have laughed too, Guan Yueyao thought resentfully. She couldn’t help but glare at her friend, but the words of reproach died in her throat once she saw Huo Qubing’s current state.

Such a hearty, open laugh was a rare sight on Huo Qubing. In Guan Yueyao’s impression, although her friend seemed relaxed when they were alone, he usually carried an air of being burdened by heavy thoughts. In their frequent chats, he always spoke of his dreams and grand ambitions. Guan Yueyao felt that while these immense desires provided him with endless motivation, they also forced him to carry a weight of responsibility and pressure far beyond his years.

Qubing’s smiles and joy are always faint; his sadness and anger are just as muted, Guan Yueyao often thought.

Therefore, seeing her friend laugh so rarely and so thoroughly, she chose silence. She allowed him to lean a hand on her shoulder, laughing until he could barely stand straight. She no longer retorted to the teasing remarks, simply standing her ground and glaring at the surrounding soldiers who were still chuckling.

This lighthearted atmosphere on the drill grounds lasted until the end of the break. Because of Guan Yueyao’s antics, the fear instilled by Wu Sheng’s words had been considerably diluted among the soldiers.

As Guan Yueyao was still ill, Huo Qubing naturally did not allow her to actually join the drills. Instead, he pulled her to sit by the side of the field. By now, Huo Qubing had finished his bout of laughter; though the sound had faded, the smile remained fixed on his face.

“Even if you feel better, you shouldn’t come out dressed so thinly,” he instructed with an unusually gentle tone.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. My throat doesn’t hurt anymore, it’s just a bit itchy. I reckon if I cough for another two or three days, I’ll be nearly recovered. Then I’ll be hale and hearty again, ready to go up the mountains with you to hunt tigers!”

Huo Qubing was amused by his friend’s overly playful words and shook his head helplessly. “Even so, you didn’t need to run to the drill grounds. You can’t train anyway, and you just got ridiculed for nothing.”

“You say that as if you didn’t laugh along with them,” Guan Yueyao grumbled, finally unable to resist complaining.

Huo Qubing looked a bit embarrassed, but at the thought of the scene earlier, the shadow of a smile returned to his face. “I didn’t want to laugh, but the reaction between that soldier and you… it was truly too interesting,” he explained, still stifling a chuckle.

He expected his friend to scold him properly, given her personality. To his surprise, a smile appeared on Guan Yueyao’s face as well.

“Actually, it’s quite good. Qubing, I really like the way you looked just now when you were laughing so hard.”

As the youth’s words fell, Huo Qubing stopped laughing and stared at her blankly. For a moment, neither spoke. But being stared at so intensely for so long—even if the person was Huo Qubing—was more than Guan Yueyao could take. She turned her head away with a flushed face, her tone sounding a bit fierce as if trying to cover up her shyness.

“What… why are you looking at me like that?”

Reminded by his friend, Huo Qubing finally snapped back to reality and hurriedly withdrew his gaze. Such a loss of composure was rare for someone like him, and he couldn’t quite say why it had happened. But upon hearing Guan Yueyao’s words, a surge of immense joy had uncontrollably occupied his mind. It was the kind of joy and emotion that only arises from being cherished and understood.

Huo Qubing was not someone who excelled at discussing or expressing his feelings; even his own joys and sorrows often felt like delayed realisations. During the ten-odd years of his life, which had felt quite long to him, he hadn’t thought there was anything wrong with hiding his emotions. That was what his uncle and the Son of Heaven had taught him—the foundation of survival in that treacherous imperial court. Gradually, restraining his emotions had become an instinct deeply rooted in his mind.

But now, someone was telling him that he was good just the way he was when laughing wildly, and that they liked it.

How could he not like someone like Guan Yueyao? How could he not rely on her? While people often whispered that someone of lowly and mysterious origins like Guan Yueyao only enjoyed the Emperor’s favor because of Huo Qubing, only he knew that between the two of them, he was the one more afraid of losing the other.

“Guan Yueyao.” Huo Qubing reached out both hands, turning his friend’s head back—she had been pretending to look at the scenery—and suddenly called her name with great solemnity.

“What?” Guan Yueyao replied crossly.

“I like you very much, too.”

Life inherently possesses its share of obsessive devotion, though this sentiment, for now, had nothing to do with romance.

“The sun is about to set, and the weather will turn cold if we sit any longer. Look at how cold your hands are; you should get back inside.”

After sitting by the drill grounds for half the day, Huo Qubing couldn’t help but urge his friend as the sun began to dip.

“Just a bit more, just a bit more. Sunbathing provides calcium and helps you grow taller,” Guan Yueyao joked, acting shamelessly. She was someone who couldn’t stay still for a moment; being forced by Huo Qubing to stay cooped up in a room for half a day had been torture. Now that she was out, she wasn’t going to let him persuade her back so easily.

“Is that true? Sunbathing helps you grow taller?” Huo Qubing was led by the nose by her words again, asking curiously, “And what is ‘calcium’?”

“I can’t quite say what it is, but it’s good for the bones. When I was little, my mom bought me lots of calcium tablets. Look at how tall I am now; although most of it is because my family isn’t short, it has something to do with the calcium. But here, don’t dream of finding calcium tablets; just get more sun. I saw on a computer that elderly people sunbathing can prevent osteoporosis.”

Guan Yueyao spoke in simple terms, reflecting her general understanding of modern science. Hearing this, Huo Qubing finally stopped preventing her from sunbathing. The two even moved to a spot with more direct sunlight and sat back down.

“Actually… there’s a more important reason I don’t want to go back,” Guan Yueyao said, her smile fading as her expression turned unusually serious.

“I want the soldiers in the camp to see that everything that Wu Sheng said is a lie. I am not possessed by any vengeful ghost. Turning to a shaman’s sorcery or worshipping gods and spirits when sick is useless. When one is ill, they must seek targeted treatment and medicine. Those superstitious acts of ‘dancing to the gods’ only delay the chance for recovery, worsen the condition, and ultimately lead to a wasted life.”

Guan Yueyao spoke with great conviction. She couldn’t dismantle the feudal system, but she hoped that at least the people she cherished could see through the deceptive and harmful nature of superstition.

“But… if Wu Sheng is a fraud, does that mean all other shamans and sorcerers are fakes as well?” Huo Qubing was still hesitant. After all, as a native of the Han Dynasty, his upbringing and education were rooted in such beliefs. Shamans who possessed both medical and mystical skills were not people one should easily offend. Otherwise, if one were targeted by Wugu (witchcraft) or Yangsheng arts, they might meet a violent end.

She wanted to tell her friend that in two thousand years, humans would be traveling through space on spaceships. There is no Chang’e or Jade Rabbit on the moon, nor a Moon Palace filled with cassia trees. There is no Celestial Court of gods or a Jade Emperor in the heavens as people imagined.

Guan Yueyao thought it over and swallowed those words, choosing to speak more generally. “In any case, I don’t believe in it. Perhaps there truly are gods and ghosts in this world, but I do nothing to prick my conscience, and I only seek to have a clear heart in all things. I have no favors to ask of spirits or ghosts; I simply keep them at a respectful distance. Therefore, even if someone threatens me with talk of spirits, I won’t take it to heart.”

Guan Yueyao spoke so candidly that even Huo Qubing began to feel swayed.

“Very well, you always have your reasons. But if you want to walk around outside every day, you must dress warmly. The wind is strong here; don’t catch a deeper chill before your throat is even healed,” Huo Qubing finally compromised.

“I know, I know! I promise to eat well and dress warmly!” Guan Yueyao replied with a grin. Huo Qubing’s concern did not feel bothersome or redundant to her, and she accepted his kindness.

At that moment, the day’s drills ended, and the sound of the bugle rang through the sky. The soldiers leaving the field walked past the two of them one after another. Perhaps due to the joke earlier that afternoon, they no longer avoided Guan Yueyao’s gaze or kept a deliberate distance. Many couldn’t help but give her a teasing smile as they passed. Some bolder ones even shouted from afar, “Yo, Bullshit fellow!”

Guan Yueyao wasn’t angry; she simply laughed and shouted back crude greetings. Huo Qubing sat beside his friend, watching everything with a touch of helplessness, yet he did not stop her. In a border fortress, such a relaxed atmosphere was rare and precious.

“Alright, Ayao, we should head back. Qingfeng and the others should have dinner ready; if we don’t go now, the food will have to be reheated.”

Finally, as the crowd dispersed, Huo Qubing stood up. He walked alongside his friend toward the courtyard where they were staying, leaving the orange-red sunset behind as the grand and treacherous border pass regained its tranquility under the gathering night.