The two sat across from each other at the table, silence stretching between them. The room was quiet, as both struggled to regain composure.
Bai Lan lowered his gaze. In just one night, the person before him felt far more familiar than ever—after all, they had known each other across two lifetimes, shared both wealth and hardship.
He felt there was nothing left unsayable; after all, there was no one else in the world who knew him so deeply, so completely.
He opened his mouth and spoke plainly: “Before I came to the residence, I already said I wouldn’t stay forever. Now I want to tender my resignation, Young Master.”
“You’re leaving?” Ning Muyan frowned. “After two lifetimes of knowing each other, the first thing you say to me is this?”
“I don’t want to waste words. Right now, this is the most urgent matter,” Bai Lan said, meeting Ning Muyan’s gaze. “You’re heading to the capital, you won’t be around the city, and you don’t need me here. Surely you won’t go back on your word and refuse my departure, right?”
Ning Muyan paused. “Ever since the New Year, you’ve been busy and out of sight—so all this time, you’ve been preparing to leave the residence, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” Bai Lan admitted openly. “I’ve rented a shop in the west of the city to open a clinic. Everything is ready, and even my father has started working there, just waiting for me.”
Ning Muyan’s tone betrayed a hint of bitterness. “You’ve moved fast.”
It wasn’t that he was upset about Bai Lan opening a clinic elsewhere—he was angry that Bai Lan hadn’t told him, that he had done it all secretly. If Bai Lan had told him earlier, he could have helped choose the best location and storefront. The Ning estate had plenty of properties to spare; Bai Lan didn’t need to spend extra effort and money finding one himself.
“Who doesn’t plan for their own future? Who wouldn’t work hard for a livelihood?” Bai Lan said. “You’ve been busy with your exams all this time too.”
Ning Muyan sighed. Reason or no, there was no point arguing—he couldn’t win.
“I won’t be at ease leaving you in the residence,” he continued. “It’s better that you run your clinic, do what you enjoy. That way, you can wait for me in peace.”
Bai Lan pouted silently. Who was waiting for him?
“You needn’t speak like that again,” Bai Lan said firmly. “Though we were married, that was in a past life—it has nothing to do with now. You, being aware of past events, surely know what will happen next.”
Ning Muyan frowned. “If you won’t mention the past, then I won’t. But the words I spoke to you that night were sincere. I like—”
“Who, who likes who? I don’t know, I don’t care, I don’t want to hear it!” Bai Lan’s ears flushed red as he hurriedly interrupted, panicked. “You said before you never did… why say it now?”
“You needn’t feel indebted to me. Everything in the past was my choice. It has nothing to do with you. Don’t carry guilt.”
“I do feel guilty,” Ning Muyan said, “but is that why I treated you this way—out of simple guilt? If it were just that, I could have given you a hundred gold coins back then and eased my conscience.”
Bai Lan spread his hands. “It’s not too late now.”
A tap on the palm followed. “All my savings are in the cabinet before the bedroom. Take whatever you want. No interruptions.”
Ning Muyan’s expression darkened. “When you asked me before, I was in prison. How could I answer?”
“I couldn’t promise you wealth when the Ning family’s future was uncertain. Must I wait until I’m destitute to say yes? Must I trap you and waste your life? I was never that despicable.”
Yet the fact remained: his words of cruelty still delayed Bai Lan’s life.
Bai Lan averted his eyes, fingers twisting nervously. He understood, yet in the past, powerless and lowly, he never dared ask these questions at the right time. Though he knew it was ill-timed, it was the only chance he had courage to speak. And yet, he had been met with cold dismissal. On the exile journey, no matter how close he walked to Ning Muyan, he never dared speak again.
Now, hearing Ning Muyan admit his past words were insincere, though too late, Bai Lan felt a small comfort—one regret from the past was eased.
“If what you say is true… back then, even when I decided to follow you into exile, why didn’t you ever speak?”
Ning Muyan lowered his eyes. “Back then, I had nothing. I had no face to speak to you. But once I realized you never cared about wealth or status, I wanted to tell you properly once we settled in the city. Yet on the eve of entering the city, I couldn’t resist and wanted to express my heart to you.”
His voice trembled as he asked Bai Lan: “And you? Shouldn’t you let me know why you did what you did back then?”
Bai Lan hesitated. He hadn’t wanted to speak, yet seeing Ning Muyan like this, he opened his mouth with a sigh: “I… contracted the epidemic. We were already low on supplies, and everyone had to enter the city immediately. I prepared medicine daily to treat the sick. I knew the city wouldn’t admit anyone infected. Many infected were expelled to fend for themselves. Our medicine and money were exhausted. I knew if you saw me ill, you would have stayed outside the city, but there was no room to linger. We had reached the gates. I couldn’t burden the lives of the remaining people.”
He paused, a touch of regret in his voice. “It was also… selfish. Perhaps, in doing so, you would remember me longer.”
The truth: he had achieved his goal.
Yet now, seeing Ning Muyan like this, he felt guilty and lost, blurting defensively: “Didn’t we just say no more talk of past lives? And now you bring it up!”
“…”
Ning Muyan, knowing the truth, felt only greater pain. “If I had firmly stopped you from following me into exile, perhaps the rest of your life could have been free and happy.”
Bai Lan lowered his gaze, eyes reddening. “I grew up in a small, rural village. I’ve suffered much, but I never found the exile journey that hard—still felt free. The ones who truly suffered were people like you, born into privilege. Later, when I caught the epidemic, it was just fate being thin. People with thin luck, no matter where they are, it’s the same—they just die differently.”
Ning Muyan quietly watched his stubborn expression. Even now, he comforted and encouraged him with the same twisted logic as before.
“From now on, that won’t happen again.”
Bai Lan felt a warmth on the back of his hand and saw Ning Muyan holding it. He quickly pulled his hand back into his sleeve. “Words are enough—no touching. I’m leaving the Ning residence, so there’s no need for that anymore.”
Standing, Bai Lan continued, “Since Young Master has agreed to my request, I’ll go bid farewell to Grandmother. I need to pack and move to the clinic. You should hurry and oversee the packing too.”
With that, he darted out of the Dimo Garden like a fugitive.
“You’re leaving? You’re really leaving!”
When Ning Zhengyu went to pay respects at the security hall, he overheard Nurse Kang gossiping and realized Bai Lan was leaving to open a clinic outside the residence.
Grandmother praised Bai Lan as a capable physician; it was good for him to start his own clinic. One shouldn’t trap a talented doctor for a single person’s illness, and her headaches had already improved significantly.
Hearing this, Ning Zhengyu rushed to Tianmendong, finding Bai Lan packing. In a burst of frustration, he grabbed Bai Lan’s medicine box like a flustered rooster.
“What are you doing? Give that back!”
“Brother treats you so well—why are you leaving?”
“I never said Young Master treated me badly,” Bai Lan replied, letting Ning Zhengyu hold the medicine box while he packed other things. “Young Master allowed me to leave.”
“No way! You’ve driven my brother to distraction—he’s utterly devoted to you now. How could he let you go?”
Bai Lan snorted. “So you think you know? All you do is spout nonsense.”
“Who’s spouting nonsense? Brother told me himself. You must be quite pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”
Bai Lan shot him a glare. “Stop saying such things. It’s harmless if you mumble here, but if Madam or Grandmother hears it, it won’t be so trivial.”
He paused, then added, “Young Master ought to marry someone of suitable family. You trying to keep me here—what, you want him to marry someone like me? Lowly background, little learning, average looks, barely passable.”
Ning Zhengyu flinched at the jab, realizing Bai Lan remembered their previous bickering.
“Besides, what you said isn’t entirely true. If my brother likes you, then so be it.”
Taking advantage of Ning Zhengyu’s distraction, Bai Lan snatched back his luggage. “From now on, Young Master can pursue his ambitions, and I’ll diligently run my clinic. Bridge and road separate—no more worries for you.”
“Considering how the Second Young Master treated me in the residence, if anyone feels unwell, they can come to the west city clinic. I won’t stand idly by,” Bai Lan added.
With that, he carried his things out. Though his luggage was light enough for a small carriage, he saw a bright, spacious carriage waiting—one Ning Muyan often used.
“I’ll see you there.”
Ning Muyan was inside.
“You’re leaving for the capital exams tomorrow. Why tire yourself today? Resting properly is better.”
Ning Muyan replied, “I personally received you from Doctor Jiang. Naturally, I must personally see you safely to your destination.”