Fulang’s Little Inn C4

Chapter 4

Seeing that he had caused a major disaster, even Shu Rui—usually calm when trouble arose—was completely flustered this time. He forced himself to steady his nerves, legs weak as he climbed down from the cart.

He knelt halfway beside the man, not daring to touch him rashly.

After checking carefully, he saw no large pool of blood seeping out. The man’s legs and arms showed no obvious twisted shapes either; to the naked eye, nothing seemed broken.

Only then did Shu Rui quietly let out a breath of relief, before gently helping the man up a little.

The one struck by the donkey cart turned out to be a young man. He had a rather cold-looking face—slender brows, a high nose, thin lips. His features were sharply defined, with strong bone structure but not coarse.

Judging by his clothing alone, he seemed to be a trained martial artist.

Shu Rui noticed that the man wore tight-sleeved black clothes, and at his lower back was strapped a heavy long blade.

Though the blade was securely sheathed, it was nearly as long as Shu Rui’s arm and quite broad.

Shu Rui rarely encountered such a person. Perhaps because of that rarity, the man gave off an inexplicably dangerous aura.

Uneasy, Shu Rui carefully brushed aside the man’s hair, sweeping from his forehead down toward his neck. Seeing that there were neither tattooed exile marks nor bandit insignia, he finally relaxed a little.

He then tried calling out to him, but no matter how he shouted, the man would not wake. He had no idea how severe the injuries truly were, and in this place with no village ahead and no inn behind, the situation was genuinely troublesome.

After a brief moment of thought, Shu Rui decided to get the man onto the flatbed cart first.

According to the routes drawn in the prefectural gazetteer, there should be a relay station a little over twenty li ahead.

Those stations offered lodging and rest. Some even had resident physicians; even if not, asking the station staff to summon one would be far quicker than him searching blindly in unfamiliar territory.

The young man was tall and upright, though somewhat lean. Shu Rui thought he wouldn’t be heavy—yet he was surprisingly weighty.

Shu Rui tried to hoist him onto his back, but couldn’t move even half a step. Sweat quickly broke out all over him. With no choice, he put the man back down and first removed the blade.

It was as if ten jin had suddenly vanished—everything felt much lighter. Mustering all his strength, Shu Rui finally managed to get the man onto the cart.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he looked at the unconscious man, his heart unsettled and restless.

But since the incident had already happened, there was no point frightening himself with wild thoughts. He could only brace himself and deal with it head-on…

The donkey cart hurried toward the relay station. The young man lay motionless on the flatbed, yet inside his mind, memories surged chaotically.

At one moment, he was a child in a poor household, overhearing his middle-aged, childless uncle begging his parents to adopt a son.

At another, he was drifting between various martial halls, enduring almost cruel training.

Then again, he was running errands through wind and rain for powerful noble households in the capital…

Half a year ago, he had suffered a serious injury. After waking, his mind was never quite clear again. His memory often became muddled; he forgot things frequently. He had seen many physicians, but all could only tell him to rest quietly and see whether he would recover.

Not long ago, his master had summoned him and given him a generous reward, praising his loyalty and reliable service over the years, calling him the most trusted and valued aide.

Yet he had been away from home for many years, and his parents and elders surely missed him. He was encouraged to take this opportunity to return home, reunite with his family, and recover properly.

A letter from home had arrived as well, saying his father had passed the provincial exam, his younger brother excelled in his studies, and their days were improving—he was urged to return without worry…

The memories clamored and roared, as though reaching the very limit his mind could bear—

Then, suddenly, everything vanished.

Good and bad alike dissolved into nothing, returning him to an unprecedented stillness…

The afternoon sun climbed high. Heat rose from the ground, steaming the air until one’s back felt scorched.

Shu Rui stood in the room with his hands clenched tightly, his eyes following every movement of the old physician. The room felt stifling. Though he appeared calm on the surface, inside he was already anxious beyond measure.

When the old physician finally withdrew his hand from checking the pulse, Shu Rui hurried forward.

“Doctor, is the injury serious?”

“The young man is physically strong, his pulse steady. There’s nothing major,” the physician said. “He’s suffered quite a few superficial injuries. Apply some external ointment—being young, he should recover in no great time.”

At those words, it felt as though a great stone dropped from Shu Rui’s heart.

Still, seeing the man’s eyes tightly shut, he couldn’t help worrying. “If his injuries aren’t serious, why hasn’t he woken up yet? When will he regain consciousness?”

“There’s an injury at the back of his head. He likely lost consciousness immediately when struck by something heavy. The head may seem hard, but it’s actually a fragile area. I’ll prescribe some medicine—once he takes it, he should be fine.”

Shu Rui thanked the physician repeatedly, asked a few more precautions, and then saw him out.

When he returned holding the prescription, he felt troubled. Two of the ingredients couldn’t be found at the relay station; he would need to go to the county seat to obtain them. Just as he was pondering what to do, he looked up—and saw the young man on the bed open his eyes.

The man’s eyes were long and narrow, with thin lids that made his gaze appear even colder.

“You’re awake!”

Shu Rui’s eyes lit up. He hurried over to the bedside. Seeing that the man had awakened without the doctor’s stimulant medicine, he couldn’t help feeling overjoyed.

Hearing the voice, the young man stared straight at the ge’er who had suddenly appeared before him—a dark, swarthy face, pockmarks scattered beneath the eyes, and a large mole above the upper lip.

He examined him again and again, trying to determine who this person was, but his mind felt muddled, like a bowl of thick paste—no whole memory or fragment could be retrieved.

“…Who are you? Where is this?”

“This is Anping Relay Station. A doctor came earlier. He said you struck your head on a roadside stone and suffered some scrapes and bruises.”

Shu Rui didn’t introduce himself, first patiently explaining the injuries, then asking, “How do you feel right now? If you’re uneasy, we can have the doctor come again.”

The young man sat up and moved his limbs slightly. His body felt fine enough; only his mind was completely blank.

He frowned, pressing a hand to his head. “Why am I lying here? I feel like… I can’t remember anything.”

Shu Rui froze. Seeing the man’s utterly bewildered expression, his brow twitched slightly.

What kind of trick is this?

“I can’t remember anything”—the last time he’d seen such a line was in a third-rate opera…

The doctor had just said the man’s body was in good condition, injuries light. He had woken quickly and could speak and move, yet now he claimed not to remember anything at all. Anyone would find that suspicious.

Shu Rui sensed something was off. Could this young man be trying to extort him?

Yet his eyes looked genuinely vacant, his expression not seeming feigned.

Still, human hearts were treacherous. If someone truly intended to deceive, even sincerity could be acted.

Shu Rui’s eyes shifted. He decided to test him and see what game he was playing.

Tilting his head, he put on a worried, flustered expression. “You really don’t remember? You don’t even remember who I am?”

The young man examined Shu Rui once more, but still felt nothing but unfamiliarity.

Seeing this, Shu Rui raised his brows slightly, then sighed theatrically and plopped down on the edge of the bed.

“This is my fault. I shouldn’t have argued with you and frightened the donkey, making you fall off the cart and get kicked. Since we’re husband and wife, what can’t be discussed calmly? I’ve already lowered my head to you—don’t be angry anymore. Stop pretending and scaring me like this.”

His face didn’t redden, his heart didn’t race—he spoke smoothly. On the road, no one knew anyone; those with thick skin always gained the advantage.

“…Husband and wife.”

The young man murmured the words. The relationship was undeniably intimate—and for someone who had just lost his memory, with his mind completely empty, it was also something reassuring to cling to.

Shu Rui narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing him closely. “What—is something wrong?”

The young man didn’t respond. He seemed to try hard to think, but the moment he did, pain flared in his head.

Shu Rui couldn’t read his thoughts. Seeing his silence, he leaned closer, adding fuel to the fire. “You think I’m ugly, so you’re pretending not to recognize this marriage, aren’t you?”

“No.”

The young man looked up at Shu Rui, frowning slightly, seeming displeased at being wrongly accused.

He pressed his temples again, trying to think, but to no avail. His brow furrowed deeper. “My head really hurts.”

Shu Rui was taken aback. He hadn’t expected that such a handsome young man—suddenly claimed by an ugly ge’er as his spouse and blamed for the accident—would endure it without breaking character.

He grew uncertain himself. Judging by the man’s expression, it seemed genuine. Could he truly have lost his memory?

As Shu Rui hesitated, unsure what to do next, a pair of empty, unfocused eyes suddenly looked at him.

“I’m hungry.”

The tone was familiar, natural—as if he truly regarded Shu Rui as family.

“….”

Shu Rui stared at him, momentarily at a loss.

Speaking of hunger, Shu Rui himself had rushed here in a panic, summoned a doctor, and watched over the injured man without eating a single grain.

He poured a cup of warm water and set it by the bed. “It’s probably not mealtime yet. I’ll go see what the kitchen has. Rest for a bit.”

“Mm.”

It was past noon but not yet evening, so the relay station kitchen indeed had nothing ready. The woman in charge offered some flatbread.

Shu Rui saw that it was cold and hard, and thought it might be better to knead dough and make noodles instead.

Just then, he heard fishermen calling out. Following the sound outside, he saw villagers from the nearby fishing hamlet returning from the sea, selling their fresh catch at the relay station.

There were sea fish, shellfish, crabs, and kelp. The shellfish were still spitting water.

Seeing how fresh everything was, Shu Rui bought some mixed seafood, planning to pan-fry a few savory pancake for himself and also give some to those who had helped him at the station and summoned the doctor, as thanks.

Mixed seafood was cheap—little meat and troublesome to clean. Four or five coins could buy a jin(.5kg/1.1lbs). With his silver tongue, Shu Rui spent twelve coins to buy two jin of mixed seafood and one small black fish.

Carrying the ingredients, he borrowed the kitchen stove, made a stack of cakes, and simmered a pot of fish soup.

While cooking, his mind kept circling around the young man. No matter how convincing the act, he still found it hard to believe he’d truly encountered something as fantastical as amnesia.

Yet no matter how he thought it over, he couldn’t discern the man’s motive.

After a while, Shu Rui decided it was better to confront him directly.

Even if the man intended to extort him, it was preferable to being kept in the dark like this.

Having made up his mind, Shu Rui delivered some cakes to the attendants, then carried the fish soup and remaining cakes back to the room on a tray.

Just as he reached the door, he heard whoosh, swish, huff—the sound of air being violently sliced inside.

His heart clenched. In broad daylight—could there be a thief?!

With a crash, Shu Rui shoved the door open—

A cold, gleaming blade pointed straight at him.

He had never encountered such a scene. His hands went weak, and the tray slipped from his grasp.

Just as the soup and cakes were about to spill everywhere, the broad blade flicked deftly, catching them all—without a single drop spilling.

“Are you alright?” the young man asked, quickly setting the food on the table and stepping toward Shu Rui.

Shu Rui’s heart pounded violently. He took a long breath. “What were you doing in here?! I thought I’d walked into a robbery!”

“I was drinking water and saw a blade by the bed, so I tried it out. When I heard the door burst open, I thought it was a bad person. I didn’t know it was you.”

Standing close before Shu Rui, the young man explained, then couldn’t help asking, “Is this blade mine? It feels right in my hand. Did I practice martial arts before?”

Shu Rui eyed him suspiciously but didn’t answer. “Eat first.”

The young man didn’t press the matter. He obediently sheathed the blade—he truly was hungry.

The fish soup had been simmered to a milky white. He took a sip, then drank the rest in one go.

Seeing this, Shu Rui pushed the seafood cakes toward him.

The round cakes were crisp on the outside, tender inside. One could taste clam meat, shellfish, and dried shrimp. Eaten hot, they were full of ocean freshness and wheat aroma.

The young man ate five in one breath.

Seeing his appetite, Shu Rui thought his mood should be decent.

Taking the chance, he decided to stop spinning nonsense. Drawing a breath, he said:

“I’ll be honest with you. Earlier, I made up that story to test you—it was my overthinking. If you want compensation, just say it. Everything can be discussed. This circling around each other is troublesome.”

“No matter what, it was my animal that hit you. I should take responsibility.”

The young man wiped his mouth, looking at Shu Rui in confusion.

The two stared at each other for a long while, as though trying to find a crack in the other’s gaze.

Finally, the young man spoke. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t know you at all. You were walking on the official road, and my donkey lost control and hit you.”

“Since we’re speaking plainly now, sir, why keep pretending? Dragging this out has no meaning. Say what you want. If I can manage it, I’ll do my best. If I truly can’t, then we’ll have the magistrate decide.”

Shu Rui didn’t dare go to court at all. He said this only to intimidate the man a little.

It would be best to settle things privately. Since the man wasn’t seriously injured, there was no need to trouble the authorities.

The young man stared at Shu Rui quietly, brow tightly knit. After a long moment, he said:

“I just can’t remember anything. My hands and feet work fine—no different from before.”

Shu Rui had already prepared himself for an outrageous demand. He hadn’t expected such an answer.

Seeing the man still “acting,” he said patiently, “I’ve already made it clear—we do not know each other!”

“If we don’t know each other, then why did you cook soup and make cakes for me?”

“And those happened to be things I like.”

Shu Rui stared at the handsome, cool-featured man before him, utterly unconvinced that this was something a normal-minded person could say.

His head throbbed. “You say you’ve lost your memory—so how do you still know you like fish soup and flatbread?”

“Even if I don’t remember, I ate so much. If that’s not liking it, what is?”

“Or maybe you’re just greedy and eat a lot!”

The young man frowned slightly now, emotion finally surfacing.

“Then I won’t eat what you make anymore.”

“Who said there’s an ‘anymore’ between us!”

At that, the young man abruptly stood up. Though slender, he was tall and straight. His cool features, half-shrouded in shadow, were unexpectedly imposing.

Shu Rui’s heart tightened. If this man lost his temper, with that kind of skill, Shu Rui might be doomed today. Just as he was scanning for an escape—

A righteous accusation fell from above.

“We’re husband and wife. I’m injured and don’t recognize anyone, and you don’t care at all. The first thing on your mind is denying everything. How can there be someone as heartless and ungrateful as you!”

Shu Rui stared at the young man accusing him, dumbfounded.

He had never felt so utterly unable to argue his case. Back at the Bai household, when wronged, he argued when he wanted and stayed silent when he didn’t. Never had he been rendered so speechless.

Just then, the relay station attendant heard the quarrel and knocked on the door.

“They say couples quarrel by the bed and make up by nightfall. I’ve brought you two a pot of chrysanthemum tea to cool your tempers.”

“A man should be more understanding of his fulang. Earlier, when you were unconscious, ge’er here was frantic bringing you to the station. Once you woke, he didn’t even rest—he personally went to the back kitchen to cook soup for you. He may not speak of hardship, but he surely isn’t uncaring.”

Hearing the attendant’s well-meaning mediation, Shu Rui felt his temples throb even more painfully.

He didn’t bother arguing anymore. He poured himself a large bowl of chrysanthemum tea and gulped it down.

Before the tea reached his throat, a firm hand pressed against the rim of the bowl, slowing seeing the liquid gently pass his lips.

Shu Rui looked up and met a pair of cool yet lost eyes—now holding concern.

He set the bowl down and said softly but firmly, “Your head really did get knocked bad.”

With that, Shu Rui strode out of the room.

He was going to fetch the doctor again and have him examined properly.