Ming Shu struggled with all her might to push away Lu Chang. She writhed in his embrace, but his arms wrapped around her like thick vines, unyielding. Unable to break free, she pleaded, “Lu Chang, please go. I don’t need your company or your help. Just leave, will you? Stay out of my affairs. I don’t like you anymore—not since Jiangning. Don’t delude yourself…”
Her words tumbled out incoherently as tears streamed down her face like pearls from a broken string. She was determined to reject Lu Chang, believing she didn’t deserve his unwavering companionship. After all, he had a promising future ahead; she couldn’t let it be ruined because of her.
Lu Chang remained silent, holding her tightly against his chest as she soaked his clothes with tears. When Ming Shu realized she couldn’t escape his embrace, she bit his neck in desperation. Lu Chang grunted but only tightened his hold. Pressed against his chest, Ming Shu’s eyes blazed red as she clenched her jaw. Her vision blurred until she tasted the metallic tang of blood, which slowly brought her back to her senses.
Where she had bitten him, a deep ring of teeth marks appeared, with droplets of blood seeping out.
Feeling her strength wane, Lu Chang lifted Ming Shu and carried her to the simple bed frame. He sat down, cradling her on his lap.
After her outburst, having said everything she could—both what she should and shouldn’t have—Ming Shu felt utterly drained. An indescribable weariness washed over her. Her bones felt hollow, her body as limp as dough. Her forehead throbbed, her eyes were likely swollen, and her nose was completely stuffed. Not wanting him to see her in this state, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, obediently wrapping her arms around him and curling up in his embrace.
“Does it hurt?” Her muffled voice came from against his neck.
Lu Chang felt her lips gently brush over the bite mark, as light as a dragonfly’s wings, causing a slight sting. She then blew softly on the wound, her warm breath trickling down his collar and along his spine, as if it were a tangible, living thing crawling across his back. Lu Chang tightened his grip and swallowed hard before replying in a low voice, “Yes, it hurts. Stop that.”
“Then why won’t you let go?” Ming Shu asked weakly, unaware of the effect her breath had on him.
“If I let go, how will you bite me to your heart’s content?” Lu Chang quipped as he removed the wooden hairpin from her bun, loosening her now-disheveled long hair.
Ming Shu grunted, momentarily resembling her old self.
Sniffling, she murmured, “Lu Chang, I’m tired.”
With that admission of exhaustion, Lu Chang felt more warm liquid seeping into his collar.
She had never cried so much in her life—never like this. Hysterical sobs alternated with silent tears as if she had been crying nonstop. Yet, heaven knew, before he arrived, she hadn’t shed a single tear.
“If you’re tired, sleep. I’ll watch over you,” Lu Chang said, his arms encircling her waist.
Ming Shu rested quietly against his chest for a long while before finally murmuring her assent.
Exhausted as she was, she hadn’t slept properly in a month. As drowsiness overcame her, her eyes grew too sore to keep open. Her tears, flowing unconsciously, finally ceased. She mumbled incoherently before falling silent.
Her arms, which had been around his neck, slowly fell away. Her head slipped from his shoulder, coming to rest against his chest as she slept.
Lu Chang remained still, gazing down at her in the dim lamplight. Tear stains marked her face, her red nose was still blocked, and her lips were slightly parted as she breathed. Her cheeks had become gaunt. During this time of poor eating and sleeping, she had lost too much weight. In his arms, she felt as light as a feather.
He sat like this as the lamp sputtered, its light growing dimmer. The night deepened, and the village outside fell silent, save for the occasional sound of cats and dogs. Once Ming Shu was in a deep sleep, Lu Chang carefully stood and gently laid her on the bed.
As soon as her back touched the bed, Ming Shu sneezed and curled into a ball. Lu Chang quickly unfolded the blanket and covered her. However, the cold persisted—the stark contrast between his warm embrace and the chilly blanket caused her to furrow her brow. Lu Chang felt the blanket and sighed. She hadn’t planned for a long stay, so the blanket was a thin summer one, inadequate for the autumn chill.
He added his cloak on top of the blanket, but she still shivered slightly underneath. After a moment’s consideration, he lay down fully clothed beside her.
As soon as Lu Chang slipped under the covers, Ming Shu instinctively sought his warmth like a moth to a flame, curling up tightly against him. The bed was small, barely accommodating two people. Lu Chang turned on his side, allowing Ming Shu to naturally roll into his arms, and they fell asleep in each other’s embrace.
The village roosters usually crowd at the third watch, around midnight. Ming Shu often lay awake until late, barely managing to fall asleep, only to be awakened by their cries less than an hour later. She would then remain awake until dawn. But today was different.
The rooster’s crow failed to wake her.
She slept peacefully through the night until the sun was high in the sky.
The bed was cozy and warm. She had slept comfortably, feeling her energy fully restored. Still drowsy, she snuggled closer to the warmest spot before slowly opening her eyes.
Her gaze fell upon a man’s half-open collar, the elegant lines of his neck and collarbone, and a clear bite mark on his neck. She saw a chiseled jaw with stubble that tickled her forehead.
Suddenly wide awake, she froze for a long moment, realizing this wasn’t a dream.
The person lying face-to-face with her was Lu Chang.
Their clothes were intact, but her arm rested on his waist, and her leg was draped over him. He had one arm under her head as a pillow, while the other encircled her waist. They were entwined like two vines, inseparable.
She quickly withdrew her limbs and sat up straight, staring blankly at Lu Chang. Disturbed by her movement, he opened his eyes slightly and gazed at her from his side.
“Won’t you sleep a bit longer?” he asked, his voice as soft as gossamer.
The morning light gently illuminated the room. Lu Chang’s eyes were still heavy with sleep, barely open. His long hair lay disheveled on the pillow, and stubble shadowed his chin, exuding an indescribable, masculine allure. He was always handsome, but his usual coolness often made him seem unapproachable. Now, however, his gaze made her heart race.
Ming Shu bit her lip and clutched the blanket, realizing she couldn’t remember what had happened the night before. She vaguely recalled falling asleep in his arms, but what came after?
“Why are you in my bed?” she demanded.
“I apologize. You only have this one bed, no extra chairs or bedding,” Lu Chang explained, propping himself up on his elbow, his half-open eyes seemingly moist.
His gaze made Ming Shu’s heart flutter. She took a deep breath before saying, “Who told you to get in? Look at you, all dusty and unshaven. You haven’t even bathed! You’re filthy. You’re not allowed in my bed!”
Lu Chang prepared for a scolding, was taken aback by this particular accusation.
He sat up, brushing his long hair back to reveal his attractive widow’s peak. Chuckling, he replied, “You’re right. I should have cleaned up before getting into your bed.”
Ming Shu was at a loss for words, her face flushing crimson.
She no longer knew what she was saying.
On a crisp autumn day, Ming Shu nearly fled from the small village house. Before leaving, she admonished Lu Chang, “Stay put inside. Don’t come out or let anyone see you!”
If someone spotted him, her reputation would be at stake. More critically, if the watchful eyes discovered him, it could arouse Jiao Chunlu’s suspicions, not only derailing her revenge plans but potentially endangering their lives.
Lu Chang nodded agreeably, settling into his role as her hidden guest. Ming Shu didn’t stay away long, only venturing to the village to buy food. With Lu Chang’s arrival, her provisions were insufficient. Thanks to Old Lady Cao’s influence, the villagers were welcoming, offering vegetables here and meat there. In no time, her basket was full.
Upon returning, she found Lu Chang quietly carving wood by the window, his lowered gaze so serene it made one forget the outside world. Seeing her, he set aside his work and rose to take the heavy basket. Ming Shu quickly glanced outside before firmly shutting the door.
Lu Chang unpacked the basket. The village might lack many things, but fresh vegetables were plentiful. Cabbage, celery, and radishes looked crisp and fresh. There was also a piece of lamb breast, some eggs, yams, and a bag of flatbread.
“What would you like to eat?” Lu Chang asked as he carried the items to the kitchen.
Ming Shu followed, rolling up her sleeves to assist him, just as she had done in Bianjing.
As the stove fire blazed, Lu Chang steamed the eggs and yams. Ming Shu, perched on a small stool by the stove, peeled them for a makeshift breakfast. After eating a little herself, she offered Lu Chang some yam. With his hands occupied cutting meat, he ate directly from her hand. Before he could swallow, she fed him an egg.
Only when Lu Chang’s cheeks were comically full did Ming Shu stop, then teased him: “Lu Chang, I should fetch water so you can see yourself. Guess what you look like?”
Unable to speak with his mouth full, Lu Chang watched as she puffed out her cheeks and imitated a bullfrog’s call of “Gu gua, gu gua.”
Like a toad.
Lu Chang feigned anger, pretending to smear her face with his lamb-scented hands, but she darted away laughing.
By unspoken agreement, they avoided mentioning recent events, almost as if they were back in Bianjing. Life’s greatest joy often lies in the simple concern of daily meals. Surrounded by the warmth of domesticity, even the heart’s deepest sorrows found some solace.
Fragrant aromas filled the air as the pot bubbled. A chopstick poke revealed the lamb was tender, the radishes had absorbed the savory broth, and the milky soup was garnished with chopped celery. Lu Chang’s lamb stew was delicately flavored yet complex.
For lunch, they enjoyed the stew with flatbread, which soaked up the flavorful broth.
Ming Shu ate until she was full.
After a short afternoon nap, she awoke to find Lu Chang had tidied the room and washed the dishes. He was now in the kitchen area, chopping firewood. Those hands that once produced exquisite essays now wielded a slightly dull hatchet, splitting logs.
His hair wasn’t neatly tied as before, but loosely gathered at the back with a cloth strip. This brilliant young scholar, once praised by the emperor himself and the talk of Bianjing, now chopped wood with a serene expression, as if prepared to spend the rest of his life here, blending into the rhythm of this simple life.
Ming Shu watched silently for a moment, feeling a tightness in her chest, until Lu Chang called out, “Young miss, you’re awake?”
Turning to face her, his eyes still held that spirited gleam.
Ming Shu rubbed her eyes and asked, “Why are you chopping so much wood?”
“Not sure how long we’ll stay. Thought I’d prepare enough to cook a few meals for you,” he answered casually.
As night fell, dinner consisted of leftover lamb soup with added cabbage, flatbread, yams, and some pickled cucumbers.
“Uncle Zhao from the east village promised some river shrimp for tomorrow,” Ming Shu said happily, already anticipating the next day’s meal.
Lu Chang quietly observed her bright eyes—good, they seemed to be filled with starlight again.
Uncomfortable under his gaze, Ming Shu huffed and was about to leave the table when he caught her hand.
“May I borrow this?” He gently pulled a wooden hairpin from her hair and casually used it to tie up his long locks.
Ming Shu touched her hair, asking, “What are you doing?”
“Someone mentioned this morning… about cleaning up before getting into bed,” Lu Chang said as he stood, heading to the kitchen area before Ming Shu could react.
Ming Shu suddenly realized night had fallen again.
Lu Chang had already heated the water. In this small house without a proper bathroom, bathing was done in the kitchen area using a wooden tub and a ladle to pour water over oneself.
As the sound of splashing water filled the house, Ming Shu, with nowhere to escape in the tiny space, crouched by the wall outside the kitchen, trying to empty her mind. After a while, the water sounds subsided, and Lu Chang called out, “Ming Shu, can I borrow your dagger?”
“Why do you need a dagger to bathe?” Ming Shu asked, standing up against the wall, puzzled by his request.
“To shave!” His wet hand extended from the doorway, which had no curtain.
Ming Shu took a deep breath and silently handed over her dagger.
As he took it, their fingertips brushed, leaving water on hers. She rubbed her fingers and crouched back down by the wall.
“Lu Chang, aren’t you going to leave?” she asked.
“Not unless you’re willing to come back with me,” Lu Chang replied calmly as he shaved.
“You’d give up your career, your ambitions, Aunt Zeng, Uncle Lu, your parents—everything?”
“Yes,” he answered without hesitation.
“Staying with me could get you killed, stain your hands with blood, and rob you of peace for life. What’s in it for you?”
“Nothing in particular. I won’t try to dissuade you, and you needn’t try to dissuade me,” he said softly.
Ming Shu buried her face in her knees—from the moment they met, she knew she couldn’t drive him away.
“Here, your dagger back,” his wet hand extended once more from the doorway.
Ming Shu stood to take it back and spoke.
“Lu Chang, I’ve changed my mind.”
Lu Chang didn’t respond immediately. There was only the rustle of clothing as he dressed. He emerged barefoot, his chin now smooth and clean-shaven.
“What did you say?” he asked, looking down at her.
“I said, I’ve changed my mind.”
“You’re willing to risk your life to be with me, but I don’t want to drag you down with me.”
The most difficult compromise of her life was because of him.