That night, Wen Tingli was startled awake by some unfamiliar noise. Realizing the sound was coming from the room next door, she scrambled hurriedly out of bed and switched on the small lamp by her bedside.

A glance at the clock showed it was six o’clock.

In fact, she had only gone to sleep at four. Before that, she had spent the whole time helping Louis treat Lu Shicheng’s injuries. Louis had spent the night performing debridement and bandaging, but because Lu Shicheng’s wounds were so severe, Louis himself was not certain whether Lu Shicheng would pull through this crisis.

Louis had said that if Lu Shicheng’s temperature had not come down by dawn, then even knowing that moving him could worsen his injuries, they would have to transfer him to a large hospital overnight.

But if that happened, Lu Sanye and the Bailong Gang would certainly get word of it. Kuang Zhilin had not yet made it back, there was a traitor within the Lu Mansion, and Lu Shicheng himself had not yet regained consciousness and could not personally direct his men.

If they went ahead with the move, Lu Shicheng would once again be plunged into extreme danger.

Wen Tingli had been deeply worried. Later, seeing how exhausted she was, Louis had told her he would look after the patient and that she should go rest first.

Though she had gone to bed, Wen Tingli’s sleep had been fitful, worried as she was that Lu Shicheng’s condition might worsen — and sure enough, the slightest noise from next door had jolted her awake.

She threw on a coat and hurried next door. The moment she entered, she saw Louis standing frozen by the bed. On the bed, Lu Shicheng was murmuring something in a low voice.

Wen Tingli couldn’t help but smile wryly — the expression on Louis’s face right now was probably much like her own had been yesterday, when she’d suddenly heard Lu Shicheng speak.

“Sudden, isn’t it?” Wen Tingli said, stepping closer to murmur to Louis. “I heard it last night too. Mr. Lu was calling out ‘Mama’ then as well.”

Louis stood by the bed, thinking for a moment, then offered an analysis: “Mr. Lu’s vocal cords are not damaged. His muteness seems to be related to some major trauma he suffered in childhood. This time he’s suffered a severe injury — as you Chinese say, he walked past the gates of hell. It’s possible that such a near-death experience is helping him break through some psychological barrier.”

Wen Tingli, her feelings complicated, felt his forehead.

The gesture reminded Louis of something. He took the thermometer out from Lu Shicheng’s clothing and held it up to the light, letting out a sigh of relief. “His temperature has come down.”

Wen Tingli asked eagerly, “Doesn’t that mean Mr. Lu’s condition has stabilized somewhat?”

“At least it’s a good sign. Whether it’s because he’s young and has a strong constitution… let’s observe him through the day. If his condition doesn’t worsen, then we won’t need to risk transferring him to the hospital.”

Wen Tingli happily pressed her hand to her chest. “It’ll be light soon. The patient needs nourishment, and you, doctor, need to keep your strength up too. I’ll go buy some breakfast.”

Louis stopped her. “I’m afraid I need to trouble Miss Wen to run an errand instead.”

He pointed at Lu Shicheng, still deep in sleep.

“Mr. Lu has sweated a great deal. Leaving him bundled up like this isn’t good for his wounds to heal. Could you go buy him a set of clothes to change into, and while you’re at it, some personal toiletries. Also, here’s a prescription for some medicine Mr. Lu needs urgently. There are quite a few of Lu Sanye’s watchers near my clinic, so take this prescription directly to Wuzhou Pharmacy instead.”

Wen Tingli nodded. “If there’s anything else you need help with while I’m gone, just ask Zhou Sao.”

Before leaving, Wen Tingli went back to her room and changed into an inconspicuous outfit, then dug out a wig from her trunk — one she had once used for a school play — and put it on. Looking in the mirror, she added a pair of thick-framed glasses to complete the disguise.

She knew that Lu Sanye and the Bailong Gang would never guess it was she who had rescued Lu Shicheng that night, but caution never hurt. Disguised like this, not even an acquaintance would likely recognize her at a glance, let alone a stranger.

Once ready, Wen Tingli checked the pistol and wallet in her book bag, and stepped out into the pale blue morning light. It took a full hour by car to reach the foreign goods store.

Once inside, Wen Tingli quickly bought milk powder, men’s soft socks, towels, soap, slippers, and other items, then learned that the men’s ready-made clothing department was on the second floor and went up to pick out clothes.

Since Lu Shicheng was still unconscious, an outer coat wouldn’t do him any good — better, she thought, to simply buy two sets of light, soft sleepwear. But this was the first time in her life she had bought men’s sleepwear, and she was somewhat at a loss, standing before the men’s clothing counter for a good while without being able to make up her mind.

The clerk was quite sharp: “Miss, please tell me the gentleman’s build.”

Wen Tingli, putting on an air of maturity, gestured with her hands. “He’s rather tall — taller than you by about this much, and his shoulders are about this wide.”

“And the gentleman’s waist size?”

Wen Tingli paused. “I’m not sure exactly. Well, in any case, his waist wouldn’t be broad.”

The clerk scurried behind the counter and brought out a dozen or so sets of sleepwear, some expensive, some cheaper.

Wen Tingli looked at the cheaper ones first — the styles weren’t bad, but the fabric wasn’t very breathable. Thinking of how covered in wounds Lu Shicheng currently was, she resolutely picked up one of the more expensive sets to examine. The clerk’s eyes lit up. “Miss has a fine eye. This is genuine imported goods, the fabric both light and breathable — perfect for sleeping in at night.”

Wen Tingli was quite satisfied inwardly, but said aloud, “The fabric looks fine, but any fabric shop outside could get this — the wholesale price is only three silver dollars a bolt. There’s nothing special about this style either, so why is it three times the price of anywhere else?”

Hearing this, the clerk realized Wen Tingli must either run a Western tailor shop herself or have worked in one, so he laughed and said, “Sure, you can find cheap fabric at a fabric shop, but more than half of it is imitation goods. Even with the same bolt of cloth, if you cut it yourself and take it to a tailor, you’d never achieve this fashionable a cut. This is genuine Paris goods, I tell you — look how gentlemanly, how proper this style is. The only place with the same style is on Nanjing Road, and their prices are several times higher than mine.”

After some haggling, Wen Tingli bought two sets outright — one cherry-white, one ink-blue, both understated colors.

She had no idea what brand of sleepwear Lu Shicheng usually wore, but in her opinion, fabric and style this fine wouldn’t be something even Lu Shicheng would toss aside after a few wears.

By the time she finished paying, it was getting late. She bought a few newspapers at the newsstand on her way out and hailed a rickshaw home.

On the way, she read through all three papers cover to cover, but found no news about the Bailong Gang, nor anything related to Lu Shicheng.

She found this puzzling. It made sense that there was nothing in the papers about Lu Shicheng, but it was strange that the Bailong Gang had made no noise at all — that night she had hit Qiu Lingyun with two shots in a row; even if it hadn’t killed him, it should have left him gravely wounded.

Given the current standing of the Qius, father and son, in the Bailong Gang, if Qiu Lingyun’s wounds proved fatal, word should have gotten around at least a little.

But there was no time to investigate further just then. Once home, Wen Tingli first checked her surroundings warily, and once satisfied nothing was amiss, opened the door and went straight to her own suite.

Zhou Sao led Xiao Taozi out from the inner room to greet her.

“Mr. Lu woke up once,” Zhou Sao said quietly. “The foreign doctor fed him a bowl of porridge, but Mr. Lu’s spirits were very poor. He said a few things and fell back asleep.”

“Please wash and hang these clothes and socks to dry — they should be dry by evening.”

Zhou Sao, seeing the two sets of exceedingly soft men’s sleepwear, couldn’t help but show a bit of surprise, but Wen Tingli had already pulled Xiao Taozi along and hurried into the room.

Inside, Louis stood by the bed jotting something down. Not a sound came from the bed. The morning sunlight streamed in through the window onto the bedside, half of Lu Shicheng’s face bathed in clear light.

He was sleeping very deeply, a few tufts of short black hair falling messily over the white gauze on his forehead, giving him a slightly more childlike air than usual.

“How is he? Running a fever again?” Wen Tingli asked quietly, coming closer.

“No fever,” said Louis. “I gave him some painkillers. He just fell asleep.”

Wen Tingli’s expression relaxed, and she handed another bag over to Louis. “Please check whether these medicines are the right ones. Oh, I also bought a few tonics — milk powder, canned beef extract, and some new nutritional paste from Wuzhou Pharmacy. I’m not sure if Mr. Lu can eat any of it yet.”

Louis examined each item.

“These are all correct. The beef extract and nutritional paste can wait a couple of days. As for the milk powder, mix some for him when he wakes up. I expect he’ll sleep at most another two hours before waking.”

At this point, Louis suddenly gave Wen Tingli several odd looks.

“What is it?”

Louis smiled and shook his head. “I just think… Mr. Lu must trust Miss Wen very deeply in his heart. Otherwise he wouldn’t sleep this soundly.”

Wen Tingli said nothing for a moment, then replied cheerfully after a pause, “Let me go pour you some tea.”

After lunch, Zhou Sao brought in the dried sleepwear. The fabric was so thin it had dried in just two hours under the strong sun.

Wen Tingli boiled two pots of water in the kitchen, sterilized the newly bought basin, towels, and other items, and handed them along with the new sleepwear to Louis, then closed the door and left.

Louis stayed inside to wash and re-bandage Lu Shicheng, coming out half an hour later. Wen Tingli took the wash basin from him. “Zhou Sao has laid out some bedding on the sofa. Do go get some sleep — I’ll call you if anything’s wrong.”

Louis rubbed his temples wearily. “All right. If Mr. Lu wakes up while I’m resting, please feed him something. As long as he can move, try to help him walk around a bit — lying still too long could bring on new complications.”

“All right.”

After Louis left, Wen Tingli sat by the bed watching Lu Shicheng.

Behind her, Xiao Taozi had come in at some point, eating a piece of chocolate her sister had just bought, tapping her way around the room until told to hush, at which point she came over to stand next to her sister and curiously study Lu Shicheng on the bed.

“Does Mr. Lu eat chocolate?” she said generously, pulling another piece from her pocket.

“Mr. Lu can’t eat this right now.”

“Will Mr. Lu starve to death?”

Wen Tingli laughed. “He’ll wake up naturally when he’s hungry. Dr. Louis says that for a patient, sleep is just as important as eating.”

Xiao Taozi listened, half understanding, when Zhou Sao came over and said, “Xiao Taozi, it’s time for our nap too.”

Xiao Taozi immediately stuck to her sister like taffy. “Xiao Taozi wants big sister to sleep with her.”

Just then, Zhou Sao exclaimed in surprise, “Mr. Lu’s awake.”

Wen Tingli turned her head and indeed saw Lu Shicheng gazing blankly at the three of them from the bed. Xiao Taozi assumed she had woken Lu Shicheng with her noise, and let Zhou Sao lead her off obediently for her nap.

Wen Tingli reached over to feel Lu Shicheng’s forehead, asking with unusual delight, “Hungry, aren’t you? Let’s get you some chicken porridge first.”

Lu Shicheng tried to move, and lowering his head, seemed to suddenly notice he was wearing an unfamiliar set of sleepwear. Startled, he raised his uninjured arm, the sleeve sliding down to his elbow with the motion, and frowned as he examined the strange garment.

“Dr. Louis asked me to buy that for you. He said you’d been sweating so much you needed to change quickly, so I went out and just bought two sets. I’m not sure if they fit.”

Lu Shicheng turned his gaze to her. Wen Tingli happily helped tuck his arm back under the blanket, then scooped up a spoonful of porridge and brought it to his lips. “Don’t leave it uncovered like that, you’ll catch a chill. Eat something first.”

Lu Shicheng’s appetite turned out to be better than expected — he finished an entire bowl of porridge and was still gazing longingly into the empty bowl.

“Want more?”

Lu Shicheng nodded.

Wen Tingli laughed despite herself — this was perhaps the first time Lu Shicheng had shown such a childlike side in front of her.

Holding back her laughter, she took away the empty bowl and brought him a cup of mild saltwater to rinse his mouth. “You’re hungry, but I can’t give you more. Dr. Louis said you shouldn’t eat too much at once — save the rest for tonight. Also, I need to help you walk around a bit — that’s what Dr. Louis instructed too.”

Lu Shicheng gazed at the ceiling with a helpless smile, paused, and with great effort turned onto his side and pushed back the blanket. Wen Tingli hurried to stop him. “Wait a moment.”

She sat with her back to him at the edge of the bed and patted her own shoulder. “Here, put your arm here, and I’ll help you walk.”

Lu Shicheng hesitated slightly, then obediently did as Wen Tingli said.

However, Wen Tingli had truly underestimated the weight of a young man. These past few days he had grown thin beyond recognition, yet his frame was still considerably sturdier than her ailing father’s had been, not to mention he was a full head taller than her father besides. The instant the two of them rose, they swayed violently several times; luckily Wen Tingli grabbed the footboard just in time, or Lu Shicheng would surely have toppled straight back onto the bed.

Wen Tingli broke into a cold sweat with fright and hurriedly checked on Lu Shicheng beside her, only to find him with his eyes closed, laughing bitterly.

That smile eased the tightness in her chest.

“I’m sorry, did that hurt you?” she said, chagrined. “Don’t worry, I’m quite strong — I just wasn’t ready a moment ago. I’ve got the hang of it now. Here, lean on me, I promise I won’t wobble again.”

Whether it was this verbal assurance that did the trick or not, Lu Shicheng didn’t back down. Instead, trusting her completely, he let Wen Tingli support him as they set off again.

Wen Tingli bore Lu Shicheng’s right arm across her shoulders while reaching her left hand around his lower back to hold him steady from the other side.

The two walked slowly around the room. Outside, all was quiet — Zhou Sao and Xiao Taozi had gone for their nap, and Louis too was sound asleep. In this early-autumn afternoon apartment, aside from the sound of their two sets of footsteps, all was gentle silence.

As she walked, Wen Tingli couldn’t help stealing glances to check whether Lu Shicheng’s sleepwear fit properly — the sleeves were just the right length, the trouser legs weren’t too short either, and as for the waist… it was hidden under the outer garment, but since it fastened properly, that meant it fit.

She couldn’t help smiling to herself, quite pleased with her own skill at estimating sizes.

When they reached the middle of the room, sunlight happened to slant in through the window, stretching their two shadows out long across the floor.

Lu Shicheng’s steps faltered slightly. Wen Tingli assumed he too had noticed the somewhat intimate shadows on the ground, and hurried to find something to say. “Tell me if it hurts.”

She looked up, only to see Lu Shicheng gazing curiously at a full-length photograph on the table by the window.

The person in the photograph was Wen Tingli, wearing a crystal crown, dressed in a costume of gauze and sequins fit for a princess, her abundant long hair falling over her shoulders and back — the kind of outfit that made it clear at a glance she had been performing in some school production.

The photograph itself was nothing extraordinary, but what was unusual was Wen Tingli’s expression. From her posture, she had just stepped onto the stage, but from her expression, she seemed to have been called out by someone in the audience.

At the instant the photo was taken, she had been turning to look down, her brows lifted slightly, her lips parted, her smile carrying a hint of surprise.

That photograph had been taken back when Qiao Xingchu was courting her.

Back then she had still been studying at Xiude Girls’ School. Several schools had put on a joint performance, and she had performed Shakespeare with her classmates. That night Qiao Xingchu had brought a newly purchased German camera and taken many photographs of her from the audience.

After the two of them had broken things off, she had returned every gift Qiao Xingchu had ever given her, except for these photographs, which she couldn’t return — after all, the person in them was herself. Though she hadn’t returned them, she disliked keeping them anywhere conspicuous, and had simply tossed them all into the inner room.

This room had originally been prepared for her father; after his death it had become a storage room. The night Lu Shicheng was hurt, she had temporarily settled him here, and hadn’t gotten around to tidying it since.

Lu Shicheng was probably curious about who had taken the photo of her, since judging from the angle, the photographer must have been sitting in the front rows of the audience.

“Thirsty? Want some water?” Wen Tingli quickly changed the subject.

Lu Shicheng lowered his eyes to think it over, then shook his head in response. He didn’t ask a single further question, and naturally shifted his gaze to other corners of the room.

Wen Tingli felt an indescribable sense of ease. He was always so clever and considerate — this was perhaps the reason she had never once felt embarrassed or awkward while dealing with him.

Her tone turned lively again as she spontaneously began introducing the furnishings of the room to Lu Shicheng.

“Those are the pictorials I’ve collected. Back when our family still ran a Western tailor shop, I used to cut out the pretty photos of women’s clothing from pictorials to give to my father and mother, so they’d know what styles were fashionable at the time… After the shop closed I still couldn’t bear to throw them away, and I plan to have Xiao Taozi learn to draw by copying the pictures someday.”

He looked through them one by one — besides the Western dresses she’d mentioned, there were also clippings of jewelry and cute dolls. It was clear she was quite fond of such small, glittering treasures.

She gestured for him to look over there too. “That’s a peanut sprout I planted myself on the windowsill. Zhou Sao’s had stomach trouble for years and now has to eat a dozen or so red-skinned peanuts on an empty stomach every morning. When we moved, a neighbor at Ping’an Li gave me a few peanut plants, so I tried planting some in the room. I didn’t expect them to actually take — look, they’ve sprouted.”

“And that — that’s a set of little wooden puppets my mother made by hand. I loved playing with them when I was little, and after Xiao Taozi was born, she got to play with them too. Mr. Lu, you have no idea how skilled my mother’s hands are.”

No matter where Lu Shicheng’s gaze fell, Wen Tingli always had something to say about it, full of enthusiasm.

These weren’t just odds and ends — they were part of her life, and now, she was willing to open up this “part” of herself to the man before her.

Lu Shicheng listened silently the whole time, but his eyes showed that he was genuinely interested in everything Wen Tingli described. Unfortunately his strength gave out — after only two circuits around the room, sweat had already broken out across his forehead.

Wen Tingli hurried to help him back to the bed.

This man really was too much of a gentleman. Though she had kept encouraging him to lean on her, he had been very careful not to put his full weight on her shoulder.

Walking those two circuits, most of the effort had been his own — hurt as badly as he was, no wonder this kind of walking would be so exhausting. What mattered was that he’d done it so imperceptibly, or she would have noticed something was wrong sooner.

Wen Tingli helped Lu Shicheng lie back down, gave him some water, and said, somewhat helplessly, “I’ll step out for a moment.”

The instant she turned, her sleeve was suddenly tugged.

Wen Tingli turned back, startled.

Lu Shicheng, straining, turned onto his side and wrote a few words in her palm with his uninjured hand.

【I’m hungry.】

Having written these two words, Lu Shicheng looked up at her, his gaze clear and candid, yet carrying a hint of innocence.

Wen Tingli laughed. “No, no, you just ate. You can’t eat too much.”

But his expression was so earnest that it was impossible to tell he was being unreasonable. Wen Tingli’s heart softened — perhaps a person recovering from serious injury needed extra energy after all. “Then I’ll mix you some milk powder. When Dr. Louis wakes up, I’ll ask him whether we can give you a bit more food.”

After he finished the milk, Wen Tingli asked him quietly, “What else would you like to eat? I’ll go buy it — maybe you can eat more tonight.”

Lu Shicheng lowered his brows to think, seeming to genuinely ponder what he most wanted to eat, but he had clearly overestimated his energy at the moment. As he thought, his gaze grew hazy, and then, though his eyes still rested on Wen Tingli’s face, his eyelids slowly, heavily fell shut.

Wen Tingli watched, dumbfounded — so this was what it meant to fall asleep the instant you said you would. She tucked the blanket around Lu Shicheng and rose to take the bowl out, when a thought suddenly struck her with alarm — if his energy was this poor, could it be that something had gone wrong with his wound? If so, she needed to wake Dr. Louis to check right away.

But… Louis hadn’t slept all night — how could she bear to wake him?

She decided to check for herself first.

She sat back down carefully at the bedside and gently lifted Lu Shicheng’s blanket, but found herself hesitating when it came to examining his wound. His injury was on his ribs — to look closely, she would inevitably have to undo his shirt.

She reached out several times, only to draw back each time out of embarrassment. Finally she told herself firmly: Louis had entrusted her with looking after Lu Shicheng, and she couldn’t be careless about it. If something went wrong with his wound, it would be terrible.

She paused, then closed her eyes and began to undo the first button of Lu Shicheng’s sleepwear.

But the instant she moved, her wrist was flung away violently. It happened so fast that Wen Tingli had no time at all to pull her hand back.

Wen Tingli opened her eyes, startled, and saw Lu Shicheng staring fixedly at her. He looked as though he’d just been jolted awake, his eyes somewhat dazed, yet his reaction had been so swift — evidently, sensing someone undoing his buttons, instinct for self-protection had made him push her hand away. Needless to say, had his hand not been injured, her wrist might well have been seized in a firm grip.

Wen Tingli wished she could disappear into the floor, and hurried to explain. “I… I… I just wanted to check your wound.”

Lu Shicheng steadied his breathing, withdrew his hand, and looked at Wen Tingli with a guilty expression.

Wen Tingli pouted, rubbing her wrist. Lu Shicheng turned to try to sit up, but Wen Tingli quickly pressed him back down. “Don’t move, look how much you’re sweating. I’m fine, I just didn’t expect someone half-asleep to react so quickly.”

She couldn’t help wanting to laugh, but on further thought, the smile froze on her face — only someone who had lived for a long time amid danger would develop such a habit; that vigilance seemed etched into his very bones. It showed just how difficult it must be for him to hand over his trust to anyone. For a moment she didn’t know what to say, only gazed at Lu Shicheng with complicated feelings.

Lu Shicheng, seeming a little embarrassed about what had just happened, laid his head back on the pillow. After a while, hearing no movement, he looked down at her again in surprise.

Wen Tingli was amused by this gesture of his — there really was nothing to be embarrassed about. He wasn’t just a patient, he was gravely ill, and it was only natural, out of caution, to check on his wounds.

Still, undoing his buttons face-to-face felt rather awkward, so she carefully covered him back up, turned her face away, and fumbled to undo the first button, then the second.

By the fourth button, she suddenly noticed how quiet Lu Shicheng had become. She glanced back and saw him staring at the ceiling with his eyes open, his expression perfectly composed, though she had no idea what he was thinking.

Fortunately, there was no blood or discharge seeping through the gauze.

Having examined his chest and ribs, she gently helped him turn over to check the two wounds on his back, and finally didn’t forget to check the bandage on his head.

Satisfied that none of his wounds showed any problems, Wen Tingli carefully helped Lu Shicheng lie flat again and re-buttoned his sleepwear.

Strangely enough, though it was the same set of buttons, fastening them went much faster than undoing them had. Once done, Wen Tingli hurried to open the jar and pull out a sterilized thermometer, gesturing for Lu Shicheng to put it in his mouth.

Lu Shicheng shook his head.

Wen Tingli grew a little anxious. “Dr. Louis said we need to take your temperature again.”

Lu Shicheng stubbornly shook his head again — this was too childish; only a small child would refuse to hold a thermometer in his mouth.

“You can’t be this willful.” Wen Tingli reasoned with him. “Dr. Louis said if your fever comes back it’ll be a lot of trouble. Just take your temperature, and if there’s no fever, we can both rest easier.”

Lu Shicheng thought it over, then opened his mouth and took the thermometer.

Only then was Wen Tingli satisfied. She rested her chin on her hand and waited patiently.