Shu Rui sat on the bed, his head buried deep in the bed curtains, his entire mind still in a daze.
He had been afraid that once Lu Ling remembered his past, he would leave just like that—or worse, that after realizing he had been confused and deceived during his memory loss, he would feel ashamed and come to despise Shu Rui.
Yet after the treatment, Shu Rui had been granted a brief reprieve, believing that Lu Ling truly hadn’t recovered his memory…
Who would have thought this man had some cunning to him—hiding things to coax people—yet was also someone who couldn’t withstand questioning. Once pressed, he spilled everything.
Although things had twisted around once more, it seemed that what Shu Rui had feared still hadn’t come to pass.
Lu Ling hadn’t come to loathe these days they’d spent together after regaining his memory. And he had even said… Shu Rui’s face burned as he buried his head deeper into the curtains.
If Lu Ling truly felt that way, then speaking honestly, Shu Rui naturally harbored a trace of secret delight. When one has feelings and the other reciprocates, it is, after all, a rare thing. He was just an ordinary person—of course he would be happy.
But he was not someone whose eyes could easily be clouded by love, someone who would stop thinking and disregards everything else.
Just as he had said, it might be that Lu Ling had spoken those words today because, during his amnesia, the only person by his side had been Shu Rui. Over these two months, he had wrapped himself in the belief that they were husband and wife—or at least, as he claimed, mutually in love.
Then, in a single night, everything changed without warning. Being unable to immediately adjust one’s emotions was only natural.
At present, Shu Rui still didn’t know where Lu Ling’s home was, what he did for a living, or whether he was alone.
Of course, he could ask Lu Ling all of this. But how could one be sure whether spoken words were true or false? Just like the lies he himself could casually spin—people could be made to believe them completely. Words were unreliable; only proof mattered.
That said, Shu Rui felt that Lu Ling probably wasn’t married, nor engaged to anyone. If he were, then whoever that person was would surely be far superior to Shu Rui. In that case, Lu Ling wouldn’t still be saying things like liking him, or wanting to cling on and not leave.
And putting Lu Ling aside—what about himself? Did Lu Ling truly understand him?
He didn’t know Lu Ling’s background, and likewise, Lu Ling didn’t know his. If Lu Ling were to learn that Shu Rui had lost his parents at a young age, been sent to live under his uncle’s roof at seven, then after his uncle’s death had scandalously fled a marriage arranged by his elders and come here alone—what would he think?
Would he still maintain those feelings?
Shu Rui didn’t know Lu Ling’s stance. Nothing could be settled yet. He was too weak—utterly without support in this world. How could he dare to risk everything so easily?
Not to mention that he had seen far too many men who were fickle and shirking responsibility. Although Lu Ling truly gave him a different impression, he still maintained a cautious attitude toward this person, and toward love itself.
Lu Ling, on the other hand, was like someone dumping out a bucket of water—pouring everything out in one go. Such carelessness—who knew how much he truly valued Shu Rui, how much he truly valued this affection?
Perhaps he was still childlike at heart. Seeing that Shu Rui had no backing, and with Shu Rui also possessing this appearance, he might have treated him lightly and casually after all.
Shu Rui’s mind had been a tangled mess of thoughts, but he reached a conclusion: now that no one was watching over him, he had to take care of himself.
Even if he harbored… other intentions toward Lu Ling, he would have to restrain them, approach the matter seriously, and spend more time considering the feelings involved.
With that decision made, Shu Rui’s previously muddled thoughts cleared, and he felt a newfound steadiness and ease. Stretching out, he lay back on the couch, intending to take a short rest.
Just as his eyes closed, he suddenly sat up, patting his head—he still had to deliver meals to the academy tonight!
He rose from the couch, thinking that the work itself wasn’t tiring, but life was harsh. For someone short on money, there wasn’t even a moment to worry over matters of the heart.
As he opened the door, he almost collided with a figure standing there.
“You… what are you doing here?”
Lu Ling glanced at Shu Rui, then lowered his head, silently dangling there without a word.
Shu Rui pursed his lips. “I’m going to cook.”
“I’ll help you start the fire.”
That gave Shu Rui something to say.
He didn’t respond and went toward the kitchen. Lu Ling obediently followed, helping to sort the vegetables and melons they had bought, folding and washing as needed.
Both kept a quiet understanding and didn’t speak of the previous discussions about the military talent.
Lu Ling’s heart was still uneasy. He noticed a book on the table near the basket—something he hadn’t seen before.
He picked it up, leafed through a few pages, and found the handwriting somewhat familiar.
“Where did this come from?”
Shu Rui replied casually, “Yu Qiaosheng gave it to me. He was copying books for someone, and he transcribed one. Hearing that I could read, he gave it to me.”
He wiped his wet hands from washing vegetables, intending to take it inside to prevent dampening it further.
Lu Ling’s brow twitched. Wasn’t this bookworm quite clever, always scheming? A man of talent like Shu Rui deserved to be followed!
Holding the book tightly, he said, “Yu Qiaosheng is so generous? Every character carefully written, each page filled, certainly not a task done in a few days—he gave it to you.”
Shu Rui’s eyes flickered, thinking the words sounded odd. “Don’t talk nonsense.”
“If I had read more, I could write well too, with some literary flair—you wouldn’t think I was babbling.”
Lu Ling gently straightened a curled corner of the book and handed it to Shu Rui. “I was trained in martial arts since childhood, only ever wielding swords and spears, with no inkling of learning. It’s natural that people find me lacking.”
“…”
Shu Rui noticed him sitting quietly on a small stool, chopping vegetables, and cleared his throat. “I never said I found you lacking.”
Lu Ling looked at him. “So, you think studying is better, or training in martial arts?”
Shu Rui replied, “Each has its merits. Now both literature and martial skills are valued; there’s no need to compare.”
“Though you say it’s not a comparison, still studying seems better. You can copy books to read, and you enjoy it. Keeping books nearby, flipping through them brings the giver to mind again.”
Lu Ling lowered his gaze, twirling the celery in his hands. “In the end, it’s the scholars who are thoughtful—they anticipate everything.”
Shu Rui held the book and felt its warmth. He handed it to Lu Ling. “If you regret not having read much because of martial training, take this book. Keep it in your room—it balances both literary and martial skills.”
Lu Ling said, “It’s Yu Qiaosheng’s kind gesture giving it to you. If I take it, he won’t mind?”
“He only wants people to read more. That’s all. Educating the common people aligns with the government’s goal. As a scholar preparing for the imperial exams, he wouldn’t be upset.”
Lu Ling picked up the book and added, “I don’t understand all of it; some characters I don’t know. Could you explain them to me? That way, the book isn’t wasted.”
“Alright… then.”
Shu Rui watched him happily returning to the room with the book and pursed his lips.
Had he always been so thoughtful, even when he hadn’t lost his memory? He spoke with such gentle care—a kind of sweetness Shu Rui had never encountered in a man before.
Feeling a little guilty, Shu Rui sniffed, realizing he had unknowingly fallen for this approach.
After a while, Lu Ling came back from the room.
Shu Rui looked at him seriously. “Lu Ling, the things you said earlier, let’s pretend I didn’t hear them.
All along, rather than saying I abandoned you when you lost your memory, it’s more accurate to say you helped me a lot.
I don’t know what happened between you and your family, but now that your memory is back, and you don’t wish to return, I won’t force you. I hope you’ll think carefully about the days we have left together.
When the day comes that you decide to go back, or to leave for somewhere else, you don’t need to worry about what I’ve just said. I won’t stop you.”
Lu Ling might not fully understand Shu Rui’s words immediately, but at least now he didn’t need to.
He realized Shu Rui wanted him to consider the words seriously and it wasn’t Shu Rui’s fault—he had been impulsive before, speaking at an inopportune moment.
He hadn’t seen anyone reveal their heart like this before. Even during the Lotus Moon Festival, when he gave Shu Rui pearls, it was out of happiness.
Lu Ling didn’t argue; he simply nodded. He wouldn’t pressure Shu Rui for an answer now and would give them both time to adjust.
Shu Rui lowered his gaze slightly and added, “By the way, I’m not called A Shao. My surname is Ji—Ji Shu Rui.”
Lu Ling froze for a moment, watching the person who had just spoken the words go back to work.
He remained silent, a faint smile on his lips, storing the name in his memory.
Later, while cooking, Shu Rui cooled some noodles, delivered the meals, and carefully prepared two bowls of cold dishes with kelp, shredded radish, and pickled beans, sharing a simple meal with Lu Ling.
In summer, the evenings stayed light. After dinner, Shu Rui bought beans, pears, and winter melon for drinks, intending to also buy a basket of perilla leaves, though they were already sold out—he’d have to get them early the next morning.
Perilla wasn’t hard to buy in this season, so there was no worry about tomorrow.
At night, looking at the stars, he hoped the next day would be sunny.
If it didn’t rain, the streets would be sparsely traveled, and thirsty customers would ensure good business for drinks.
Shu Rui soaked the dried beans in water, preparing them for tomorrow.
The evening breeze brought a touch of coolness.
Shu Rui gazed at the bright moon, noticing how it stretched the shadows on the roof.
Though he couldn’t be sure if it would rain or shine tomorrow, the present moment gave some hope.