Chapter 172
When it comes to nourishing practices for the body, nothing is more suitable than the Five Animal Frolics. Mimicking the movements of five animals to loosen the body, the forms are simple and gentle, flowing with ease and balance. They stretch the sinews and invigorate the circulation, yet unlike typical martial arts forms, they do not require sudden bursts of force, thus avoiding internal injury from overexertion.
So Xie Ying said, “If it’s just for a child to train, and you don’t plan to use it yourself, then Five Animal Frolics is best. But if you intend to practice boxing for self-defense, the Taizu Long Fist isn’t a bad choice either.”
Cui Xie laughed. “No need, no need. These days the capital is crawling with patrolling Jinyiwei. What kind of trouble could a scholar like me possibly get into? And not to brag, but even if I did run into some thugs on the road, it’s not clear who’d be hitting whom.”
Xie Ying held his fingers and said, “Then Five Animal Frolics it is. I’ll teach you the hand positions first.”
Since the Five Animal Frolics imitate five different animals, the hand shapes aren’t like the clenched fists of other boxing styles, they must shift with each movement:
For the tiger, the fingers are slightly curled like claws;
For the deer, the middle and ring fingers are bent while the others remain extended, mimicking antlers’ branching form;
For the bear, the palm opens wide like a cupped paw;
For the monkey, the fingertips are brought lightly together in a pinch;
And for the bird, the thumb, index, and little finger hook backward, like wings in flight.
Though Xie Ying was gentle and refined in daily life, his instruction was strict and precise. Every angle of every finger had to be personally adjusted by his hands. He supported Cui Xie’s arm from behind, stretching it upward, letting him feel for himself the correct positioning of hand, wrist, and shoulder.
Cui Xie, however, was most struck by the length of Xie Ying’s arms, reaching from behind to extend Cui Xie’s own so effortlessly, matching him inch for inch.
Xie Ying’s legs were long, too.
Sitting on his lap, Cui Xie found his feet barely touching the floor. He pushed down harder with the balls of his feet, wishing he’d worn height insoles when he came over. But those would’ve been awkward for martial practice–having to sneak them out mid-session would’ve been even more embarrassing. They’d see his real height eventually anyway.
No, he shouldn’t think of it like that! It wasn’t that his legs were short, it was that Xie Ying’s thighs were too thick, lifting him higher off the seat. If they were sitting side-by-side instead of one atop the other, the difference wouldn’t seem so great.
Having pinpointed the true culprit behind his perceived shortness, Cui Xie felt much better. He reached out with his free hand to casually measure the thigh beneath him. He’d meant just to get a feel for its breadth, but no sooner had he started squeezing the side of Xie Ying’s leg than the muscles beneath his palm, and Xie Ying himself, suddenly tensed.
The hands that had been adjusting his fingers dropped to clamp around his arms and waist, locking him in place.
Xie Ying turned his head slightly, and in a low voice by his ear said, “If you keep groping like that, I won’t care whether the servants walk in.”
Then, turning the tables, he kneaded Cui Xie’s thigh and gave him a light smack on the rear through his robes before lifting him to his feet. “Let’s eat first. After dinner and a rest, then we’ll train.”
Because they would be practicing later, no wine was served at the meal. Just a few simple dishes and bowls of rice. They ate quickly and sat to digest for a moment before the servants came to clear the furniture from the hall, leaving behind a wide, open space. They also brought out two sets of lightweight training robes and soft-soled shoes for the men to change into.
The room and courtyard were lit with lamps. The night air was cool, so only one window in the corner of the hall was left open, the others tightly shut. The glow of the candles cast vivid silhouettes on the paper panes, like a shadow play, each movement inside visible in perfect clarity from the courtyard outside.
Through the window, one could see the two men posing in the tiger stanc: first raising the tiger’s paw, then lunging left and right like pouncing tigers.
After demonstrating each move, Xie Ying stood beside him to correct his posture. The hand shapes had already been refined earlier, and Cui Xie’s tiger claw looked quite decent. His arms hit the right angles whether raised skyward or thrust forward. It was only in the stances, opening the legs, sinking the waist, that some adjustments were still needed.
One had to stand with the feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, posture and spirit both relaxed. Even a slight misalignment in the height of the legs could affect the generation of power.
Though the two were not standing particularly close–enough so that any family member watching their silhouettes cast by lamplight from the courtyard wouldn’t find anything amiss. Xie Ying’s hand hovered lightly at the small of Cui Xie’s back, sometimes brushing close, sometimes gliding to his side. One hand supported his waist, the other either guiding his arm or pressing at the crook of his knee, helping him adjust his stance from front to back.
Half of Cui Xie’s body was frozen stiff. Wherever Xie Ying’s hands wandered, the muscles there tensed as if beneath the soft drape of silk lay porcelain–smooth, but unyielding. Xie Ying gave his waist a gentle pinch and scolded in a low voice, “Sink your waist. Relax your legs. This posture isn’t right at all. If you stay stiff like this, you’ll do more harm than good.”
Cui Xie felt his waist and legs grow weak under Xie Ying’s touch. He tried desperately to hold himself steady, how could he possibly relax like this? Shaking his head slightly, he whispered with breathy protest, “Don’t touch my waist! When you do that, I… I’m ticklish there.”
He nearly gave up on the stance altogether, clutching Xie Ying’s hand, not clear whether he meant to pull it away, or to press it more firmly to himself. Xie Ying allowed his hand to remain, unmoving at Cui Xie’s waist, and murmured, “Relax. I don’t mind you grabbing me like this. Aren’t you afraid someone might see?”
Cui Xie let out a pout, his brows furrowed in silent protest, but he released his grip with a sigh and shot Xie Ying a begrudging glance. Xie Ying chuckled softly and didn’t tease him further. He let go and instructed Cui Xie to hold the stance on his own, only stepping in when something was clearly off, at which point he would correct his posture by hand. Once everything was aligned, he would ask him to hold still and try to feel the movement for himself.
After finishing the tiger pounce stance, they moved to a new posture: hands drawn to the chest, hips thrust forward, abdomen raised in an arch. Xie Ying demonstrated, his right hand resting behind his neck as he turned to explain, “You form a bow from legs to waist to neck–body taut, feet gripping the ground. You have to use strength to stay steady and avoid falling backward. Beginners often get too tense and don’t dare to lean far enough, so the tendons never get properly stretched…”
He walked behind Cui Xie and opened his arms. “Don’t tense up. Just lean back–I’ll catch you. If you try inching into it by yourself, it could take forever to find the right position.”
Cui Xie laughed and answered with ease, then closed his eyes and leaned back without hesitation. But just as he expected Xie Ying’s arms to catch him, they withdrew. His torso wavered briefly in midair, then landed securely in a solid embrace.
Xie Ying lowered his head and smiled, “No need to bend back so far. I’ll support you to the right spot.” He held Cui Xie by the shoulders and gently lifted him. Once he reached the correct angle, Xie Ying dipped his head and happened to kiss the center of his brow.
Looking up at that face leaning toward him, bathed in candlelight from every corner of the room, Cui Xie felt as if the whole world was glowing on Xie Ying’s features–so radiant, so arresting, it was as though a single glance could snatch one’s soul. Cui Xie couldn’t help but close his eyes slightly, head tilted back, and with both effort and an odd sense of weightlessness, kissed him on the lips.
The two of them stood with their backs to the window. From outside, all that could be seen was Xie Ying lifting Cui Xie’s arms and helping him hold a leaning tiger posture. His voice carried out in a serious tone:
“Your junior brother is still young, his bones are tender, and his footing unstable. When practicing this move, make sure he doesn’t push too far. Just this much is enough for now. Later, have him practice stance work. A steady foundation in the legs is the basis of all martial skill.”
Cui Xie gritted his teeth and muttered low, “He’ll need to train his waist strength, too. Otherwise, if he can’t hold a posture like this, one misstep and who knows where he’ll fall.”
Just this one pose, and it took nearly half the night.
When the servants came to offer water and prepare a bath for Cui Xie, one of them kindly remarked,
“Young Master Cui must’ve been busy with the civil exams lately and let his martial training slip. You didn’t seem to have this much trouble when you were practicing swordsmanship before. Martial arts must be practiced every day. Young Master studies hard, but learning from our daren will greatly benefit your health too.”
Cui Xie smiled meaningfully. “You’re right, xiaoge. I know I should be practicing more. But with school during the day and reading at my Teacher’s place in the evenings, I hardly have time. It wasn’t until I picked up practice again that I realized how much I’d regressed. I’ll need to visit Xie-xiong more often from now on.”
The Five-Animal Frolics had five forms–at the very least, it would take five to ten days to learn, maybe even half a month. But with all his energy drained by exam prep, Cui Xie’s martial arts foundation had nearly vanished. His forms were off, his footwork sloppy, so whenever he had a spare moment, he’d run to the Xie household. Not only did his technique improve, his core strength did too–he no longer jolted from the slightest touch to his waist.
Outside of training, Xie Ying would also explain the current political climate to him, the Emperor’s temperament, and the preferences of various ministers.
Cui Xie wasn’t particularly interested in the private affairs of officials, at least not yet. What he was interested in were the fourteen Colonels. Even though there were plenty of Colonel dramas out in the market, he had no time to watch them all. So he brought out pen and paper and asked Xie Ying to describe each of them, helping him flesh out their personalities and design the character roles ahead of time.
No matter what, the new drama’s characters had to appear in plain clothes at first. Their accessories needed to be eye-catching, distinctive. Until the finale, they absolutely could not all wear their official uniforms. Otherwise, with all fourteen Colonels dressed in green and most of them being handsome, pale-faced men, you’d have no way to tell them apart except by the color of their cloaks. Wouldn’t that just make them into copies like the Calabash Brothers1?
This play… was really turning out to be a pain to write.
As soon as Xie Ying heard his creative concept, he realized Cui Xie had done it all to elevate his status. His chest flushed warm, and he couldn’t help but clasp Cui Xie’s hand. “You’re already so busy with your studies. How can you find time to do this for me? I’ve just been promoted to Chief Pacification Commissioner, it’s a position with even more authority than a Prefectural Assistant or Vice Prefect. You don’t need to worry so much about me anymore.”
But Cui Xie was straightforward. “I didn’t write it to get you promoted. I just can’t stand that they’re writing those cheap detective dramas, and even worse–using my characters in them! Feng Yun was clearly someone I wrote for you, a loyal and capable subordinate!”
Ah… but aren’t playwrights always like that? They care only about their own fame. They never think about anything else. Getting angry at them only makes things worse, nothing but poison for one’s own mood.
Xie Ying sighed lightly and wrapped an arm around Cui Xie’s shoulder, speaking gently, “If they use your characters, we’ll use theirs too. Let’s borrow their reputation to add luster to your play.”
He had his men gather all the Jinyiwei scripts circulating in the market. While teaching the Five Animal Frolics, he’d also use their breaks to recount stories from those plays–tales of glory and valor surrounding their fellow officers. But since he saw these people daily in real life, comparing them to their overly heroic, cookie-cutter personas onstage often made him want to laugh uncontrollably mid-story.
His storytelling wasn’t particularly refined, but Cui Xie loved listening anyway. He clung to Xie Ying night after night, too lazy to read the scripts himself. In this way, the two of them ended up spending more time together each day than they ever did when they only met on the first and fifteenth.
One day passed, then two, then three… and both of them began to feel as if this quiet, intimate rhythm could stretch on indefinitely.
But that illusion didn’t last.
The next time Cui Xie visited the Xie household, the old steward told him that Xie daren wasn’t home and handed him a personal letter written in Xie Ying’s own hand. It contained just one piece of news:
The Crown Prince was to select his Consort. Selection of noblewomen would begin across the prefectures of Northern Zhili, and the entire court was now caught up in the process. The Jinyiwei were to assist the eunuchs in conducting the selection and in suppressing unrest among the commoners. It was going to be a busy time. Xie Ying would no longer be able to leave the yamen on time.
At the end of the letter, he also reminded Cui Xie: if there were any suitable-age female relatives at home who didn’t wish to enter the palace, now was the time to hurry and get them married off.
Cui Xie held the letter in both hands, his eyes blank. One thought rang out in his mind–
The Crown Prince is choosing a consort! The future Hongzhi Emperor is choosing his Empress!
Then… wouldn’t Xie Ying be working overtime until the wedding?Next year would be the 23rd year of the Chenghua reign. Once the Crown Prince married, the Emperor would likely pass away. The new Emperor would ascend the throne, and the purge of Consort Wan’s faction would begin. People would be thrown into prison left and right. How long would his Pacification Commisioner have to keep working before he could return to regular hours again?
Footnotes:
- Calabash Brothers: This was a very popular animation in the 1980s and essentially we have seven brothers who all look identical but only differ by the color of their clothes and their powers. The plot is essentially an old man grows calabashes in seven different colors that become seven boys with supernatural abilities. This allows them to defeat the demons that were terrorizing the villagers. ↩︎
TN: Hi everyone!! Another winter storm this weekend, I think we are expecting 10 inches of snow here! Stay safe and warm if you guys are in colder climates!
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Twin Dragons Translations 