The days in the training garrison passed by, unfortunately fast. Chengyi could only watch on as time slipped away from him like sand in the center of the palm. No matter how tightly one clenched, it always found a way to escape.
He allowed his gaze to drift, a soft smile touching his lips as it settled on his two brothers in all but blood.
They were currently sparring, and though to the inexperienced outside it may seem that Yonglie was winning, it was clear the two were of equal footing. His swings came wide and fierce, driven by raw strength and an almost reckless abandon, as though he trusted his body to simply overwhelm whatever stood before him. It was clear he relied greatly on his physical strength to get him by.
Meanwhile, Wenqing was shorter, and of a far more lithe build. Slender and elegant, he used his sword like a rapier, a thin willow branch in the wind. He was swift, fast. Where Yonglie struck once, Wenqing struck three times. His cuts were far more numerous, if more shallow, than yonglie's.
"Too slow," Wenqing murmured under his breath, slipping past another heavy swing.
"Say that again when I break your sword," Yonglie shot back, laughing even as he overextended.
They were evenly matched, Chengyi knew. Different, but equal. Together, they would be formidable. One the hammer, the other the needle. If the two fought as a duo, they would pose as a formidable set of enemies.
Chengyi watched them, as he himself practiced his sword forms. These were not techniques passed down through bloodline or taught beneath the stern gaze of a master. They were sword forms that he had painstakingly designed and crafted himself. Every swing was the result of countless hours of agony, each step crafted from enough sweat to overflow a dam.
He could only practice himself for now, as the others could not yet hold a candle to him. The others simply could not keep pace.
Soon, he thought. Soon.
Yonglie and Wenqing were improving at an astonishing rate. Every day, the could run what seemed as another kilometer. Every day, they could eat another bowl of rice.
Chengyi smiled at that thought. Yonglie, for one, had no need for external motivation when it came to feasting. He could out eat the entire garrison, and still have room within that bottomless stomach for more. The poor fellow was suffering from the lack of alcohol, but it was banned for good reason within the encampment.
"A crime," Yonglie had declared mournfully the night before. "A true crime against humanity."
"For once," Wenqing had replied dryly, "humanity is safer without you drunk."
Yet, the peacefulness of the moment was interrupted, quite rudely Chengyi had to say.,A harsh, grating voice cut through the air like a rusted blade dragged across stone. It scraped at the ears of every bystander unfortunate enough to hear it. To the speaker himself, however, it must have sounded rather pleasing, for he showed no inclination to stop.
Not only was the tone and pitch both brash and ear-piercing, the content itself was rude and vulgar.
Chengyi turned to look at the newcomer. It was a swaggering youth, backed by two others. The newcomer's robes were fine, richly dyed, unmarked by dirt or wear. His hands were pale and soft, untouched by labor. A pampered young master, without any question at all.
Though the newcomer's first impressions were… rather lacking, Chengyi still greeted him with a polite smile, two hands clasped before his chest. "Greetings."
Rather than returning the gesture, however, the newcomer crossed his arms and sneered. "Is this truly the quality of the imperial guards these days?" He lifted his hands, curling his fingers mockingly around the phrase. "Imperial guards. Truly, the invigilators must have standards lower than dirt."
Yonglie and Wenqing had stopped sparring. Many of the other guardsmen-to-be had also stopped training, coming to see what the commotion was about. Training across the field came to a gradual standstill as attention turned toward the disturbance.
Wenqing's mouth was set into a grim line, seemingly having recognized the newcomer. "Young master Hu," he reluctantly choked out.
The newcomer, young master Hu, seemed ever so delighted. "If it isn't Liu Wending himself! You've truly made a disappointment of yourself. " He clapped his hands softly, as if amused. "Your whole family was saddened at you…. 'Loss'. They will be very happy to know your current whereabouts."
Wenqing stiffened, his grip tightening around his practice sword.
Yonglie moved to stand squarely in front of him, blocking Wenqing slightly from young master Hu's taunts and jeers. "You've fallen so low, Liu Wending, to need the protection of another man. Oh! Could it be that…" His gaze dipped, his smile turning oily. " you're one of those?"
Yonglie had started to bare his teeth.
Before the tension could snap, Chengyi stepped in to mediate.
"Apologies, young master Hu." he said evenly. "I'm afraid I've not a clue what my companions here have done to upset you. What can we do?"
Young master Hu merely lifted his nose higher into the air. "Since when did I give a Wúchǎn talk to me? Step aside, peasant. The upper class have words to discuss."
Chengyi clenched his teeth, but continued his faux politeness. "I shan't be doing that. I am Chengyi, the elder sworn brother." He met Hu's gaze without flinching. " I will now ask once more; What are your intentions with my brother?"
The young master's eyes widened considerably. He stepped closer to Chengyi, invading his space. "So you're Sir Chengyi, first place in both the written and physical entrance exam." His gaze swept Chengyi up and down. " Now that I'm looking at you, though, it seems not much is special?"
there was coughing from the peanut gallery.
Someone muttered "if he's not special, then what are you?"
Snickers emerged.
The young master, though, paid no heed to the whispered comment. He continued disparaging Chengyi to his face. Chengyi took it all without any response, until the young master turned his venomous tongue to lash at Yonglie instead.
"A bear! Really, I must write home to my father about how the garrison lets it's pets wander freely. It would be a safety hazard for the rest of us noble ilk!"
The vision of chengyi was red, yet once it cleared, he saw the young master sprawled across the floor, clutching his nose and waling like a toddler.
A man of no class at all.
His screaming and blubbering had drawn in the attention of some patrolling guardsmen. Not potential guardsmen, like the brothers, but genuine ones.
Seeing that Chengyi had a bloody hand, not of his blood, and the delicate young master on the ground, it was clear to them who the main instigator was.
They took him away, amidst the cheering of the rest of the garrison.
Yonglie's eyes were dark, as he watched Chengyi get dragged away.
Slowly but surely, his gaze slid over to the sobbing young master on the ground.