Dr. Zhou examined the dead snake and finally relaxed.
“This is just an ordinary flower snake, non-venomous. But you acted correctly by coming immediately.”
Shu Rui, having grown up in the countryside, recognized it as a flower snake, and the stone in his chest fell.
This snake was not only harmless, but those who enjoyed wild delicacies would even buy them for soup.
Though non-venomous and edible, Shu Rui had never touched one. Being bitten in that environment was enough to give him a cold sweat—even if it wasn’t dangerous.
Dr. Zhou disinfected Shu Rui’s arm and rebandaged the wound, asking how the snake had bitten him.
Shu Rui recounted everything in full, leaving nothing out.
“Old, uninhabited houses are especially prone to snakes. After spring, when the weather warms, they become more active,” Dr. Zhou explained.
“Take two packets of snake- and pest-repelling powder,” he instructed. “Sprinkle it throughout your home. Dispose of any dead rodents or insects, and you won’t attract snakes seeking food.”
Shu Rui nodded; even without being told, he would have asked for the powder. Proper preparation was necessary for him to feel safe living at the inn.
By the time he left the clinic with the medicine, night had fully fallen.
They had planned to make a late dinner after finishing the kitchen, but now they had to settle for noodles at a small food stall still open.
Lu Ling seemed distracted, his gaze on Shu Rui’s left arm. “Does it hurt?”
Shu Rui understood he was asking about the bite.
“No. Dr. Zhou is skilled. It stung a little during disinfection, but with the ointment he applied, there’s no pain now. He said it should heal in a few days.”
“Mm.” Lu Ling nodded, then added quietly, “Dr. Zhou is very young.”
Shu Rui raised an eyebrow at the random comment. Lu Ling said nothing further, focusing on his noodles.
Back at the inn, Shu Rui lit three or four lamps before stopping. In the rush, he hadn’t bought lampshades; tomorrow he would, so the courtyard wouldn’t be so dark, even if it meant extra oil.
Lu Ling sprinkled the snake- and pest-repelling powder throughout the inn, then retrieved some planks from the old guest rooms.
Shu Rui had no bed yet in the main room. He could sleep on the floor, but with the heavy, damp rain, he worried about his own health.
“Now that the two eastern rooms are ready, I’ll take the left room, you take the right,” Shu Rui said, planning to lay down the planks for bedding.
Lu Ling, concerned for Shu Rui’s arm, insisted he not carry planks.
Looking at Shu Rui’s face under the warm glow of the oil lamps, noting the contrast between his darkened face and the pale arm, Lu Ling asked, “Why is your face so dark?”
“I’m talking properly with you. My face isn’t dark,” Shu Rui replied.
“I said your face is dark. Not that you have a dark expression,” Lu Ling clarified.
“Your arms aren’t like that,” he added.
Shu Rui’s heart skipped a beat, and he instinctively covered his sleeves. He had carefully applied powder to make his arms match his face when leaving the Bai residence, but the heat of travel and the wash of the evening had left them slightly soiled. He hadn’t thought to redo them.
Still, after these days of being together, Shu Rui realized Lu Ling was unlike most men. He didn’t seem to judge by appearance, and had never shown disdain.
Shu Rui thought that perhaps, for Lu Ling, it didn’t matter what he looked like—he could be genuine.
But life wasn’t just about them two. Managing an inn while maintaining a presentable appearance in the city, with no status or family, would bring endless trouble.
“People in the countryside get sun on their faces from working the fields. Unlike city-born young masters or ladies, it’s normal to have tanned skin. Arms and legs, usually covered, are different from the face,” Shu Rui explained, feeling a bit guilty for misleading Lu Ling, and kept his eyes down.
Lu Ling considered the words, realizing they made sense.
“I’ll buy the best powder and rub it on your arm every day,” he said, sneaking a glance at the pale skin.
“There’s no need for daily treatment; it will heal by tomorrow,” Shu Rui said, blushing slightly as he snatched the planks. “Hurry and lay the bed.”
Lu Ling stepped aside, refusing the planks. “Why don’t we sleep in the same room? Why split into two?”
Shu Rui’s ears flushed, but he looked up. Seeing Lu Ling staring blankly, he said, “What do you think?”
Lu Ling said nothing.
“Because we’re clearly not—”
Shu Rui didn’t finish; Lu Ling’s brows furrowed. “Here we go again.”
“…If I said we weren’t married, or that we had secretly eloped from our families, which would you believe?” Shu Rui asked.
Lu Ling thought: both statements claim they aren’t married. That’s a tricky question.
“You even said before that we’re cousins, and that our families hope we marry.”
“Yes. Earlier I could say we’re married, then later say we’re cousins, and now I could claim we eloped without matchmakers or permission. It shows I’m a man of many lies; much of what I say can’t be trusted.”
Shu Rui spoke seriously, guiding him: “So, Lu Ling, you should judge with your heart and instincts, not just take others’ words as truth.”
After these days together, Shu Rui felt Lu Ling was a good man—at least among the men he had known closely in his first half of life, Lu Ling was exceptional in both character and virtue.
In just a few days, he couldn’t imagine how many troubles he would have faced without Lu Ling.
He didn’t want to say cold, harsh words to make Lu Ling uncomfortable, but he also didn’t want him to carry the mistaken burden of being his husband, taking on responsibilities that weren’t his to bear.
Lu Ling quietly watched Shu Rui. Listening to his words, his eyes softened.
“I understand,” he said.
It’s easy to fabricate lies, to speak them aloud, but harder to hide one’s actions.
During these days together, Lu Ling realized Shu Rui sometimes said things that were unpleasant, yet he had never acted harmfully. Instead, he worried about him being cold, hungry, and cared for him.
Even now, he was concerned that Shu Rui might be exploited due to amnesia, speaking to him for that reason.
If they were truly unrelated, why would he go to such trouble?
At the very least, even if they were unconnected, he would make them matter to each other.
In the world, a young man like Ashao (Shu Rui) was rare, and being with him felt very good—memory aside, this was exactly what Shu Rui meant by instinct.
Seeing Lu Ling’s normally cool, blank eyes brighten, Shu Rui didn’t know what thoughts were turning in his head.
“I’ll do it,” Lu Ling said, cheerfully arranging the bed.
Shu Rui was momentarily stunned. “Then we’ll just lay our own beds in our own rooms…”
The inn was large, but it had previously operated as lodging. Who would have thought that even a few rooms would lack beds or mattresses?
Shu Rui laid wooden planks for a bed, set up four posts to support a canopy, thinking about the future expenses.
Several guest rooms needed beds, the western main room too—a significant cost.
Earlier, settling accounts at the inn had cost four hundred fifty coins; buying the stove and supplies took over three guan.
With the advancement of ironworking, tools and iron pots had become more common, but they were still expensive. A large iron pot could cost two guan, even at a low price. The smaller items, though tens or hundreds of coins each, together amounted to a considerable expense.
After bathing and soaking his feet, Shu Rui sat cross-legged on the bed, spreading out the remaining coins. Counting carefully, he found only nine guan and six qian left.
He groaned inwardly. Just repairing three rooms had already used half his funds, without accounting for further household needs. If no income came in, living expenses alone would be difficult.
At least he had planned ahead, buying only five hundred roof tiles instead of all at once—now he was pressed for resources.
He leaned back on the bed, exhaling, and thought about how to make money. But before he could decide, exhaustion from the whole day overtook him, and he quickly fell asleep.
Not surprising—he had risen early, lost some blood from the snake bite, and was naturally fatigued.
Outside, rain pattered on the roof tiles. Occasionally, the sound of someone striking a clapper echoed through the street.
Lu Ling lay on the bed, staring in Shu Rui’s direction, but remained awake.
The next morning, Shu Rui rose early as usual.
After washing and grooming, he overheard vegetable sellers shouting in the back alley. He opened the back door and saw a few households already buying produce.
He bought two radishes, a bunch of tender leafy greens, and a few stalks of scallions and cilantro.
The vegetables were fresh—either freshly picked from the fields before dawn, or prepared the previous evening.
Seeing the seller chatting comfortably with other local buyers, Shu Rui asked, “Do you come to this alley every day?”
“Yes, young master. If I don’t come, my father does. You seem new here; is this your first time buying from me?”
“I’m from a village near the city, with several acres of good land. We grow vegetables for the city market, so they’re always fresh.”
Shu Rui nodded. “Do you sell onions and garlic?”
“Not right now, but I can bring them to you this afternoon.”
“Get me a pound of each.”
“All right, I’ll bring them to your door this afternoon.”
Shu Rui took his vegetables back to the courtyard, planning to make a simple breakfast: a soup porridge, stir-fried greens, and a radish salad.
Just as he entered, he saw Lu Ling, hair loose and dark, holding a pig-bristle toothbrush, stepping out of the room.
“There’s no tooth powder left,” Lu Ling said.
Shu Rui put down the vegetables and fetched some from the chest.
Inside were four or five boxes of tooth powder, all packed when he left the Bai residence. Luckily, he had brought along these small necessities; otherwise, he would have had to repurchase them.
One box of powder cost over ten coins. Buying more would have taken twenty or thirty coins each.
“Choose whichever you like,” Shu Rui said.
He picked two boxes and showed Lu Ling.
Expecting Lu Ling to take one casually, he was surprised when he opened both and sniffed them.
One was jasmine tea-scented; the other, orchid and bamboo. Lu Ling asked, “Which do you prefer?”
Shu Rui smiled, “If I liked one, I wouldn’t let you choose it.”
Lu Ling narrowed his eyes, quickly taking both boxes back to the room in a blur of motion.
“Hey!”
Shu Rui shouted after him from the doorway, “You little rascal!”