Fulang’s Little Inn C5

Chapter 5

“The head is, by nature, a fragile place. Judging only from the external injury, this young man merely has a swelling at the back of his head from the impact—it doesn’t look serious. But what’s going on inside the skull is another matter entirely.”

The old physician stroked his beard as he spoke. “When I examined him earlier, I assumed the knock had simply caused him to faint. I truly didn’t expect it to turn out like this.

“That said, cases where a person temporarily can’t remember things aren’t unheard of. Many live perfectly normal lives. There’s no need to be overly anxious.”

Yet Shu Rui’s heart sank halfway. He asked, “Then… when might these symptoms improve?”

“If it’s fast, three to five days. If it’s slow—three to five years is also possible.”

At the words three to five years, Shu Rui’s vision darkened. He hurriedly pressed, “Is there a cure?”

“My medical skill is limited, and this isn’t my specialty. You might consider taking this young man to the prefectural city to consult a better doctor. I’ve heard there’s a physician in Chaoxi Prefecture who excels at acupuncture and is particularly skilled at treating difficult, unusual ailments.”

By the time Shu Rui saw the doctor off, his steps were already unsteady. When he turned back, he nearly collided headfirst into the young man standing at the doorway.

He had lost his temper entirely by now. He dropped onto a stool, the chain of events weighing down on him until both body and mind were utterly exhausted.

“Do you remember where your home is?” he asked.

The young man shook his head.

Shu Rui hadn’t truly expected an answer anyway. “I remember you had a bundle. Bring it over and let’s see if there’s any clue inside.”

The young man found Shu Rui’s wording unpleasant, but he didn’t argue—perhaps afraid they’d quarrel again. He fetched the bundle as told.

Shu Rui took it, then paused and handed it back. “You open it yourself.”

The bundle was small; once untied and set on the table, its contents spilled out. Inside were a pack of dried rations, already cold and stiff, several small bottles of wound medicine, and… two pairs of trousers for changing.

Shu Rui’s face reddened slightly.

He had no interest in scrutinizing a young man’s intimate clothing. Yet something about those trousers was undeniably odd—the cuffs were embroidered, crookedly, with two characters.

He stared for quite a while before making them out: Lu Ling.

“Is this… my name?”
Lu Ling picked up the trousers, his fingertip tracing the stitched characters, and looked at Shu Rui in confusion.

“You’re asking me?” Shu Rui’s eyes widened. How would he know?

Besides, what normal person embroidered their own name onto their trousers? Was it to keep them from being stolen? It seemed more like something a lover might sew. Though frankly, the needlework was truly atrocious.

Lu Ling stared at the trousers, and a fragment of memory flashed through his mind.

It seemed like a bathhouse—men constantly coming and going, little concern for propriety. Every time he emerged wrapped in a bath cloth, his trousers would be gone…

When he tried to think more clearly, his head began to ache again.

He frowned, unable to recall anything else, and could only ask Shu Rui, “You didn’t sew this for me?”

Shu Rui’s face grew hot. “Why would I be that muddle-headed? It was probably sewn by one of your sweethearts. Don’t pin this on me and ruin my reputation for nothing.”

Lu Ling fell silent, thinking this person was awfully fierce.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll throw it away.”

Shu Rui looked at him in disbelief. “Throw it away? Then what will you wear?”

After all, if they were discarded, where would he get new ones on such short notice? Outer clothes were one thing, but underclothes—surely he couldn’t go ten days or half a month without.

Lu Ling held the trousers, momentarily at a loss.

Shu Rui’s head began to throb. Why was he even discussing this?

“…There doesn’t seem to be anything else. Pack your bundle back up.”

Lu Ling did as told.

Just as Shu Rui was about to slip out, a station attendant came by and asked, “Will the two of you be staying on tomorrow?

“I wouldn’t normally disturb you, but a merchant caravan arrived just now—over a dozen people. They plan to sell goods in nearby villages and will likely stay here three to five days. Rooms are a bit tight, so I came to ask whether you’ll be checking out or extending your stay, so we can make arrangements.”

Only then did Shu Rui remember that in his haste he had rented just one room.

“I was about to ask for another room, actually—didn’t expect you to come first.”

“Another room?”
The attendant glanced between Shu Rui and Lu Ling, then tactfully refrained from asking further. “I’m afraid there are no spare rooms left. Only a spot or two on the communal kang.”

Shu Rui hesitated. Before he could speak, Lu Ling—who hadn’t said a word—bowed his head and walked straight out toward the communal quarters.

Shu Rui watched his back, his emotions complicated.

“…We’ll set off early tomorrow for Chaoxi Prefecture,” he called after him. “I’ll find a doctor and get you treated.”

Lu Ling paused. A stubborn thought rose in his chest—If we’re not husband and husband, why say such reluctant things?
Yet he was also afraid Shu Rui might truly abandon him. In the end, he only murmured a low “Mm” and left.

The next morning, just as the sky was lightening, Shu Rui finished buying provisions, fed the donkey hay and water, and asked the station attendants to help hitch up the cart.

Though he had rested overnight, he hadn’t slept well. Traveling alone already kept his nerves taut; after everything that had happened, his mind was in even greater turmoil.

There were faint dark circles under his eyes as he thought again of Lu Ling, irritation flaring.

The doctor had said that after losing one’s memory, whatever a person first accepted was difficult to change. Had Shu Rui known from the start that Lu Ling truly had amnesia, he wouldn’t have been clever and lied so carelessly.

Now that he tried to explain in earnest, Lu Ling wouldn’t believe him.

Lost in thought, Shu Rui led the donkey to the gate and saw someone waiting by the road—bundle slung over his shoulder, long saber at his waist, standing as if dazed.

Ink-dark eyes empty, suffused with an indescribable confusion, he stood in the morning mist like a wooden post.

Guilt suddenly surged in Shu Rui’s chest. A perfectly fine person, suddenly stripped of memory—perhaps it was like being lost in fog.

If Shu Rui ran off now, he might be able to shake him and avoid all the trouble of arranging care, finding doctors, worrying about cures. It would save endless hassle.

But honestly speaking, Shu Rui couldn’t do such a thing. If he were the type to flee at trouble, he would never have left the Bai household, nor would he have dragged Lu Ling to the relay station for treatment when the road was empty and no one was watching.

Lu Ling’s amnesia was caused by him. If he ran now, he would never find peace again.

Even if Shu Rui himself was still standing in the fog, unsure whether the road ahead held spring warmth or bleak winter, he had to take responsibility.

Having made up his mind, his mood unexpectedly lightened.

But before taking responsibility to the end, his first priority was making Lu Ling understand—and accept—that they truly were not husband and husband.

“Lu Ling, let’s go,” Shu Rui called.

Lu Ling’s eyes cleared slightly at the sound of his name, and he strode over.

The cart creaked forward, leaving tracks on the road as it passed through the thin mist and rolled onward.

Shu Rui handed Lu Ling two still-warm savory pancakes and took the reins himself.

Yesterday, when he’d crashed the cart into him, Shu Rui had been terrified—so focused on reaching the station and finding a doctor that he hadn’t even thought to fear driving.

Now that Lu Ling was fine, the memory of yesterday’s accident and the lingering morning fog made his heart pound as he drove.

The donkey tossed its head and sneezed, tugging the reins and jerking Shu Rui forward. Cold sweat broke out on his back.

Draft animals might look slow-witted, but they’re sharp in their own way. If they sense the driver’s uncertainty, an untrained donkey or mule will bully you—pulling east when you steer west, dragging its feet when you urge it on.

Shu Rui’s donkey, though strong, was at that headstrong prime—spirited and impatient. Sensing Shu Rui’s lack of skill, it dawdled, tried to graze by the roadside, even deliberately jostled the cart.

Just as Shu Rui sat stiff as needles, heat beading on his brow, a hand reached from behind and closed around the reins.

The hand was much larger than his, veins faintly raised as it tightened the leather. After a few practiced pulls, the donkey—just moments ago stubborn—settled obediently.

Shu Rui loosened his grip slightly. The cart remained steady—far more so than when he drove it.

He finally relaxed and turned to look at Lu Ling. One hand held a pancake, chewing calmly; the other drove the cart. His face was cold, yet his actions somehow made him seem foolishly endearing—perhaps because of the amnesia.

“You’re good at driving,” Shu Rui admitted.

Lu Ling’s brow lifted. “I’ll drive from now on.”

Shu Rui sobered. “Lu Ling, there’s nothing on you that tells us where your home is. Going to Chaoxi Prefecture—we don’t even know if it’s closer to your home or farther away.

“But I’ll do my best to find a doctor to treat you, and to help you find your family.”

Lu Ling stared ahead as if he hadn’t heard a word.

“Did you hear me?” Shu Rui pressed.

No answer.

They sat side by side. Unless he was deaf, he’d heard.

Shu Rui frowned. He’s doing this on purpose.

Annoyed, Shu Rui fell silent as well.

Lu Ling caught the change in his expression and finally spoke. “You keep saying those things. I don’t want to hear them.”

“But I’m telling the truth!”

“If we’re not husband and husband, as you say, why would a young ge’er with no family travel alone? Why bring me to the relay station after I was hurt? Why take me to Chaoxi Prefecture now?”

“I’ve lost my memory, not my wits.”

Shu Rui retorted, “My animal caused the accident. Must only one’s own husband be worth saving? I won’t flee after causing harm—I still have a conscience.”

“A conscience lies to someone with amnesia and claims they’re spouses?”

“…I only lied at first because I was afraid you’d try to extort me.”

“Then why keep me with you at all?”

Lu Ling felt Shu Rui’s words were full of holes. He couldn’t shake the sense that they’d had a falling-out before—that Shu Rui was now using his confusion to sever ties.

If that were true, perhaps he was at fault first… yet the thought of being abandoned filled him with an awful feeling.

He abruptly reined in the donkey. “Since we’re not spouses, as you say, we’re strangers. I’m unhurt and able to walk. You don’t need to trouble yourself dragging me to Chaoxi Prefecture.”

Shu Rui stared at his tightly pressed lips and furrowed brows—clearly upset.

His head buzzed. What on earth is this fool angry about?
He should be relieved—no ugly husband, no false marriage—why was he unhappy instead?

Utterly helpless, Shu Rui spotted a woman ahead on the road, leading a child.

“Mother, how much farther? My feet feel swollen—I don’t want to walk anymore!” the child whined.

The woman coaxed him, to no avail, and looked ready to carry him herself, sweat pouring down her face.

Shu Rui’s eyes narrowed.

He’d spent copper coins freely at the relay station—room fees, doctors’ visits. His purse wasn’t empty yet, but money only flowed out, never in.

Travel itself was costly, and he still didn’t know what state his inherited shop was in after years untended. Repairs would surely require more money—money he didn’t really have.

Seeing how steadily Lu Ling drove, recalling his strength with the saber, Shu Rui’s mind turned to business. The cart was empty anyway—why not take on a few passengers? Even a little income to cover fodder would help.

He lowered his voice. “Hide the saber.”

“No.”

Lu Ling was still sulking.

Shu Rui narrowed his eyes, tempted to tell him to get off—but he wouldn’t risk others’ safety with his own poor driving.

“…Fine. Forget what I said earlier. I won’t say it again.”

Lu Ling’s eyes flickered. Though he didn’t respond, his hands moved to unfasten the saber, hiding it beneath the cart.

Shu Rui quickly covered it further with a bundle.

“Drive over and stop in front of that mother and child.”

Lu Ling obeyed.

“Madam, where are you headed?” Shu Rui called warmly. “It’s hot, and our donkey’s strong. Why not ride for a bit and let the child rest?”

“We’re going to Stone Town to visit relatives,” the woman replied. “Does your cart pass that way?”

“It does. And at this hour, it’s hard to find a proper carriage. The sun will only get harsher, and walking will take another hour or two. Since we’re already going, you might as well ride with us.”

She hesitated. “How much would you charge?”

“Just two copper coins—fodder for the donkey.”

She tried, “Then I’ll give three.”

“Deal.”

Shu Rui helped lift the child onto the cart.

He sat chatting with the woman and child, easing their journey. Eventually she glanced at Lu Ling’s handsome, silent figure and asked, “Such a fine young man—what’s your relationship?”

“He’s my elder brother,” Shu Rui replied lightly.

Before she could ask more, Lu Ling suddenly said, “No. Husband.”

“What?” The woman startled. “How can he be both brother and husband?”

Shu Rui pinched Lu Ling hard out of sight and smiled. “My apologies—I wasn’t clear. He’s a distant cousin. Our families arranged the marriage. We grew up calling each other brothers—it still feels strange.”

She relaxed. “Ah, that makes sense.”

As they rode on, Lu Ling said nothing more. Shu Rui’s pinch hadn’t hurt, but the explanation—distant cousins turned spouses—oddly soothed the restless fog in his mind.

The cart rolled on, cutting tracks through the road, carrying them all forward.