I became the God Brother of the Regent King after Transmigration!-Chapter 84 - 71: Teaching Her Hand in Hand

Gu Lan simply couldn’t believe that these were Rong Heng’s words.

Is this even human language?

Rong Heng let her stare for a while, then reiterated, "Read a book a hundred times and the meaning will naturally appear. Young Master Gu, you probably haven’t read it even once, have you?"

Gu Lan was silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "Brother Hang, have you read it a hundred times?"

Rong Heng’s lips curled into a quick smile, his dark eyes sharp: "Oh, I memorized it after reading once. Why read a hundred times?"

Gu Lan: ...

Didn’t want to talk to someone with cheat codes.

Zijin and Jiu, seeing these two harming each other, felt they wouldn’t have a good sleep tonight.

"I’ll go make tea for Young Master Gu." Jiu quickly made an excuse to leave.

Zijin hurriedly said, "I’ll go too."

Their speed was astonishing, leaving Rong Heng puzzled... Is there still tea in Xiaoxiang Palace?

Gu Lan, reminded of her purpose, sat down despondently and started copying the Four Books and Five Classics on paper.

During the day, although Gu Lan understood the meaning of the poems and essays Xie Yun taught her, understanding wasn’t enough. These books, as ancient introductory learning materials, had to be memorized word for word. Even the youngest of the young princes had to be dragged into reciting them.

As the young prince’s companion, it would be quite embarrassing if she couldn’t do any of it.

Rong Heng lowered his eyes and sat beside her, casually taking an Osmanthus Cake to his mouth.

Sweet and sticky, he liked it.

Watching the youth in front of him puff up and copy the texts, he didn’t know why, but it made him unusually happy.

Perhaps because he had nothing to do and there were snacks to eat.

However, Rong Heng’s happiness lasted less than the time it took to finish a cup of tea.

He suddenly stood up, couldn’t help himself, and asked in a deep voice, "Gu Lan, who exactly taught you to write like this?"

Gu Lan looked at her writing, what’s the problem? Although ugly, each stroke was neat and tidy. For a modern person to write in regular script was already quite difficult; did they expect her to have the golden touch of a calligraphy master too?

"Do you have some misunderstanding about neatness?"

It was only after Rong Heng spoke that Gu Lan realized she had accidentally spoken her thoughts aloud: although ugly, it was neat and tidy...

Gu Lan felt wronged.

"You write beautifully. If you’re so good, then you do it."

Rong Heng stared at her for a long time, finally taking a deep breath. He picked up a brush and sarcastically remarked, "The characters I wrote with my feet when I was six look better than yours."

Gu Lan chuckled, retorting, "Why don’t you try writing with your feet, it’s really not easy."

Rong Heng was impressed by her shamelessness, considering that Gu Lan had previously praised herself in front of him for cleverly plotting against Consort Qian, acting as if she was incredibly wise, skilled, and righteous.

He picked up the brush and wrote the line Gu Lan was copying:

"When the Nine Clans are harmonious, the people are well governed."

The precise and sharp characters, also written stroke by stroke, were neat yet unrestrained, making Gu Lan think they were more beautiful than the calligraphy she had seen before.

Gu Lan softly said, "No one taught me, I taught myself."

She had never even gone through compulsory education before, only endless assassination training, and to meet certain infiltration needs, force-fed learning of various languages and practical knowledge.

She had read many books, knowing that failing to learn some things could result in unbearable consequences.

At that time, desperate to learn the vast expanse of knowledge, she only wanted to speed up, leaving no time to care about the beauty of her handwriting.

"Talent?" Rong Heng responded with a single word.

Gu Lan: ...

She looked at the eight characters "When the Nine Clans are harmonious, the people are well governed" on the paper, unable to stop herself from reading them out loud, then asked, "Rong Heng, what does this sentence mean?"

"These words from the ’Book of Documents’ mean that the ancient Di Emperor was wise and able to ensure family harmony and discern the duties of various officials."

Rong Heng’s voice was serene and calm, making one feel peaceful. Gu Lan felt that his voice was more effective in keeping her alert than Xie Yun’s; she only wanted to sleep when listening to Xie Yun’s lectures.

"People well governed, doesn’t that mean making people’s lives peaceful and happy?" Gu Lan inquired further.

"’People’ here refers to the collective term for all officials and nobility, not the common people as you understand it." Rong Heng explained.

Gu Lan thoughtfully nodded, asking, "Does Brother Hang think the Emperor is such a person?"

Rong Heng cast his eyes downward, his voice growing quieter: "Di Emperor is merely an ancient legend." He didn’t answer what kind of person Rong Jing actually was.

She recalled the ending in the original story where Rong Heng ultimately ascends the throne. By then, he was already Dayan’s War God, expanding territories with unparalleled victories. The Emperor was deposed, but he hadn’t initially intended to claim the throne.

It’s just that the Crown Prince fell from grace, the Second Prince was inept, and there wasn’t a dependable member within the Imperial Family. Surrounded by generals, Rong Heng had no choice but to be crowned.

If he remained Dayan’s War God forever, it would be great—Gu Lan liked male leads who were military leaders.

Rong Heng looked at her and sighed softly, thinking about Young Master Gu’s reputation. Initially, he was known for skipping school and not recognizing even the simplest characters, yet now they had remarkably grasped many historical references and recognized so many characters. That itself was intelligent.

The Gu Family only knew how to lead troops. Even if Gu Chengye and Gu Changting served as officials, they couldn’t possibly teach Gu Lan, as the legitimate son who might inherit the Dingyuan Marquis title in the future, to write and study literature.

His eyes darkened, pondering that perhaps one day, the frail-looking youth before him would head to the Northern Territory to become the new Dingyuan Marquis.

The northwest was bitterly cold, and the Qiangrong were cruel and ferocious, repeatedly invading. Although Gu Lan had decent martial arts skills, weapons had no eyes; how could she survive?

Rong Heng had already begun to worry about Young Master Gu’s future prospects.

"Brother Hang, who taught you to write like this?" Gu Lan’s words snapped Rong Heng out of his thoughts.

He didn’t hide it, replying blandly, "My Third Imperial Brother."

Gu Lan hadn’t really heard much about the former Emperor’s Third Prince. In the original book, this Third Prince was merely mentioned once, stating he was a highly renowned scholar in Yan Country.

"Where is Third Brother now? Can he teach me?"

"He’s dead."

"..."

A trace of gloom flitted through Rong Heng’s eyes. Among the former Emperor’s five princes, the Fourth Prince was weak and sickly and died young. Rong Shuo, the eldest, had long gone out to lead troops. Only the Third Imperial Brother was closest to him.

But he died on the third day after the former Emperor’s death.

"Moreover, he is not your Third Brother," Rong Heng emphasized.

Gu Lan: "Isn’t Brother Hang’s Third Brother my Third Brother too?"

Rong Heng was speechless, looking at the red-lipped, white-toothed youth before him, his eyes slightly trembling: "Your handwriting is too ugly. If the Third Imperial Brother saw it, he couldn’t bear it. I’ll teach you."

Rong Heng, rarely taking the initiative to teach himself, left Gu Lan no choice but to nod.

As his fresh and elegant aura approached, Gu Lan had yet to react.

Then, she was dazed, looking up at Rong Heng’s close and smooth chin, swallowing with difficulty.

Is teaching calligraphy supposed to be taught hand in hand?

Rong Heng stood behind Gu Lan, slightly bent over, effortlessly encompassing her completely.

His long, slender fingers wrapped around her hand, then guided her arm to dip into the ink.

Gu Lan’s fingers were rather beautiful, considered slender among women, yet now were naturally held entirely by Rong Heng.

Stroke by stroke,

line by line.

The touch didn’t seem to fall on the paper, but like a feather gently brushing across the heart.

His palms were cool and slightly dry, with powerful fingertips, his hand veins faintly blue, making Gu Lan unconsciously hold her breath.

Then, she smelled the familiar medicinal fragrance from Rong Heng and gradually relaxed.

He held her hand, writing "Gu Lan" on the paper.

It looked much better than her own writing.

"Remember it?"

Rong Heng’s voice sounded, somewhat hoarse, his warm breath spilling by her ear, stirring a burning current.

"Re... remember what?"

She hadn’t heard anything, apparently Brother Hang had just spoken.

Gu Lan suddenly coughed to disguise her stammer.

Rong Heng said: "Learning calligraphy, posture is very important, your posture is fine, but you don’t sit properly usually, also, hold the pen like just now."

Gu Lan, slightly understanding: "Then demonstrate again, I forgot."

How can she be so justified?

Rong Heng hummed, picked up an osmanthus cake to eat, then turned his back on Gu Lan, his voice tinged with impatience: "Who told you not to remember."

Saying so, he directly walked out of Xiaoxiang Palace, his figure blending into the pitch-black night.

The cool breeze brushed against his face, caressing Rong Heng’s slightly warm cheeks, he couldn’t distinguish if the osmanthus aroma was from the cake or from Gu Lan.

Unconsciously, he extended his right hand, silently staring at it.

It was this hand that had just held Gu Lan’s hand.

Why on earth did he impulsively decide to teach Gu Lan calligraphy, even using the Third Imperial Brother’s name?

Why did he teach her hand in hand?

Back then, Third Imperial Brother hadn’t taught him hand in hand either.

What was he thinking?

Who is he and where is he...

Rong Heng tried to convince himself it was because Gu Lan’s handwriting was unbearably ugly, he had no choice but to teach this way.

After a long while, feeling his rapidly beating heart calm down, Rong Heng finally walked back inside the hall.

Then, he saw the Young Master Gu sleeping sweetly on the desk.

"..." Rong Heng fell into deep thought.

How does she manage to fall asleep anywhere, anytime!?

In Maoqin Hall, she slept;

In Xie Yun’s room, she slept;

In the middle of a hotpot meal, she slept;

And now, she’s sleeping on his chair! She hasn’t even finished copying a hundred times yet.

Rong Heng stormed out, extinguishing a palace lantern.

He angrily walked to Gu Lan, placing a small hand stove beside her.

Then, he picked up his outer robe and covered Gu Lan with it, all while grumbling.