After resting a night at an inn near Ten-Li Street, Shurui led Lu Ling to the Dexin Clinic Madam Yang had mentioned.
They arrived early, just as the clinic was preparing to open. A little medicine boy, perhaps eight or nine, was fiddling with the lock and key. Despite the early hour, three or four others were already waiting—apparently more diligent than them, arriving even earlier.
When the door opened, patients surged in behind the boy, as if those who entered first were unwilling to wait. Shurui had heard that in a large prefectural city like this, it was difficult to see reputable doctors. Experienced physicians were either arrogant or summoned directly by the nobility, and ordinary people rarely had the chance to consult them. Seeing the clinic’s popularity gave Shurui a measure of confidence.
He whispered to Lu Ling, “Stay in line properly. Don’t let anyone cut ahead of us.”
Lu Ling nodded.
The little medicine boy counted the number of people inside, ran to the back room, and returned carrying several stools—upturned, nearly hitting Shurui’s chin. Shurui hurried forward to help set them upright.
The boy’s eyes sparkled as he thanked Shurui, then wiped the dust off the stools with a coarse cloth from his waist and gestured for the patients to sit.
Busy as ever, he moved to the counter to clean and unlock things, then said, “This is for dispensing medicine. If you’re here to see the doctor, you’ll need to wait a moment. My senior brother will come shortly.”
Once he delivered medicine to two people, the remaining patients settled down to wait. Despite his youth, the boy was skilled with herbs, moving nimbly to measure and prepare prescriptions. He then went to the back room to brew tea for Shurui and Lu Ling.
At that moment, a young man entered. He looked barely in his twenties, carrying a heavy medical box on his shoulder, with dark circles under his eyes.
The medicine boy called out, “Senior brother, you’ve arrived!”
The young doctor waved apologetically to the waiting patients. “I was out on calls all night. Sorry to have kept you waiting.”
The patients politely nodded, and he was quickly ushered to see them.
Shurui and Lu Ling waited at the back, watching the little boy now free of duties. He asked, “Doctor Yu is said to be excellent. I didn’t expect to meet someone so young.”
The boy laughed. “You two are new here. This isn’t Master Yu Yizhen—it’s my senior brother, Doctor Zhou.”
Shurui’s brow furrowed. “So Doctor Yu isn’t seeing patients today?”
“My master went out to gather herbs. Recently, the clinic has been managed by me and my senior brother,” the boy explained. He then asked, “Which part of your body is uncomfortable?”
Shurui’s heart sank. “It’s my companion. About ten days ago, he was injured in an accident. He lost consciousness and hasn’t remembered anything since. We heard Doctor Yu is skilled with acupuncture and hoped he could help.”
The boy glanced at Lu Ling, his expression cold, making it hard to meet his gaze directly. Observing closely, he noticed emptiness in the eyes.
“Such a condition really requires Master Yu’s skill,” he said. “I’m still inexperienced. For ordinary ailments, I can manage, but stubborn cases like this…I dare not act recklessly.”
Shurui’s heart sank further—why did it have to be so unlucky?
The boy quickly added, “But don’t worry too much. My senior brother is well-trained, capable, and might succeed. Judging by your complexion, the condition doesn’t seem severe.”
Shurui thought to himself: “Who says it isn’t serious? He may seem obedient in public, but he’s stubbornly ill when alone.”
With no other option, he pinned his hopes on the young Doctor Zhou.
“Come on in,” the boy called, seeing the front patients leave. Shurui immediately guided Lu Ling inside.
“Your pulse is steady and strong, flexible and spirited—likely someone who practices martial arts,” Doctor Zhou said, feeling Lu Ling’s pulse. “Judging only from the pulse, there’s nothing seriously wrong.”
He then opened his needle kit. “Based on your symptoms and history, I’ll try acupuncture.”
Shurui’s eyes widened at the fine silver needles, each longer than a finger. He had never been needled before and felt uneasy. Watching a needle push into Lu Ling’s head made his stomach churn.
“Did you say he lost memory due to the cart accident ten days ago?” Zhou asked, frowning as he confirmed with Shurui.
“Exactly,” Shurui replied.
Doctor Zhou shook his head. “No. He seems to have an old injury, worse than the recent one.”
He called Shurui closer. “The recent injury only affected the skin, not the skull. But an older wound, already healed, is far more serious. I judge that the old injury caused some mental confusion. The new injury layered on top, resulting in his current state.”
Shurui frowned. Previously, doctors said it was only a superficial injury. Seeing this now, he realized the old wound had been the hidden culprit.
Still, his main concern was: “Doctor, can it be treated?”
Doctor Zhou exhaled. “If Master Yu were here, with his experience, he might find a solution. I’m still inexperienced. I can manage simple cases, but a stubborn condition like this…I dare not act recklessly. The head is too important—one wrong move could ruin him.”
Shurui lowered his gaze. He had anticipated some difficulty, but hearing the limits confirmed, he felt disappointed. Yet Doctor Zhou was right—forcing treatment could be worse than amnesia.
He glanced at Lu Ling, who, despite losing memory, still had hope. Pushing that hope back months would be even harder.
“It’s alright,” Lu Ling said, noticing Shurui’s dejection. He comforted him instead.
Shurui’s heart stirred. Lu Ling was unusually kind, saying, “It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember, I’m here.”
Doctor Zhou smiled. “He’s right. Memory loss isn’t fatal. Daily life continues, and with family and friends around, it’s not critical. When Master Yu returns at year-end, you can bring him again—he may even have recovered by then.”
Shurui didn’t know what to say. Complaining now was pointless. At least he understood why Lu Ling had lost his memory. After asking a few precautions, he thanked the doctor, paid the consultation fee, and took Lu Ling back.
On the street, Lu Ling walked quietly, seeming drained. He finally asked, “Is my past really that important to you?”
Shurui looked up. “If it’s important to me, it’s probably even more important to you. Don’t you want to know what happened?”
Lu Ling paused, then said, “Recovering memory would be nice, but if I can’t, I don’t feel too disappointed. Maybe you won’t like to hear it, but I honestly don’t feel a rush to know the past.”
Shurui’s brow twitched. He felt a pang of pity. Losing memory, most would want to reclaim the past quickly, yet Lu Ling didn’t. Perhaps his past wasn’t pleasant—he could live with or without it.
Though unaware of Lu Ling’s full history, the severity of his condition hinted at a troubled past.
Shurui realized he shouldn’t insist on convincing Lu Ling about their relationship. For now, the only person Lu Ling could rely on was him.
Even if the accident wasn’t entirely his fault, Shurui felt some responsibility. Had the cart never struck him, Lu Ling might not have lost memory—or he himself might now be paralyzed.
Considering everything, Lu Ling was, in a way, a benefactor—someone he owed and had wronged.
Shurui’s heart felt heavy. From now on, he wouldn’t argue about whether they were husband and wife. Whether as spouses, brothers, or family, he would let Lu Ling judge.
The two had spent enough time together that Shurui didn’t feel the need to explain much. Lu Ling, he figured, would notice things for himself—he wasn’t dull or foolish.
For now, since Lu Ling’s condition couldn’t be resolved immediately, there was nothing to do but wait until Doctor Yu returned. In the meantime, Shurui’s priority was making a living, especially since he didn’t even have a proper place to stay yet. Thinking this way, he felt a bit lighter.
“Headache.”
Shurui was momentarily startled, realizing someone had voiced what he himself had been thinking. Only then did he notice it was Lu Ling speaking.
Fearing he might faint, Shurui quickly steadied him. “Are you dizzy?”
Lu Ling touched the spot where the silver needle had been inserted. “The needle hurt.”
Shurui exhaled in relief, letting go of Lu Ling’s hand. “Why didn’t you say so before?”
“I was embarrassed with others around,” Lu Ling admitted.
Shurui pursed his lips. He thought, at least he still had a sense of propriety. But, all things considered, even martial artists were still human—skin, flesh, and nerves—and it was natural to feel pain.
With that, he offered a small comfort. “When we get back, I’ll make you a bowl of fish meatballs. Eat it, then rest in the inn.”
Lu Ling agreed, then asked, “What about you?”
“I’ll check the roof tiles later,” Shurui said.
“I’ll come with you,” Lu Ling offered.
Shurui shook his head. “You won’t help with bargaining; you’d only scare people. Don’t worry, even if the doctor can’t fix you, I won’t leave you behind. The shop’s still on Ten-Li Street—you can’t outrun me.”
Lu Ling considered that he wasn’t worried about Shurui running off—he could find him anywhere. He just didn’t want Shurui to face trouble alone, like with the old man yesterday. Thinking it over, he knew Shurui was sharp-tongued and not easy to bully.
“Then I’ll just explore the city, get familiar with it,” Lu Ling said. Once he knew his way around, he could find work. The shop needed repairs, which would cost a lot, and they couldn’t afford to be idle.
Shurui didn’t know what Lu Ling was planning and assumed he was just restless in the inn. “That’s fine. But remember the streets—if you get lost, I won’t come looking for you in such a big city.”
“I’m not an idiot,” Lu Ling replied.