Chapter Seventy-One: Have You Forgotten Him?

Lu Wenwen first met Qin Ruyan at the City God Temple fair that year.

It was just after the Spring Festival, and the air was still thick with the festive spirit. The temple fair bustled with crowds—performers displayed their skills in puppet shows, comic dialogues, and cross talks. Colorful trinkets abounded: spinning tops, lantern wheels, and sugar figurines dazzled the eye. On such days, families flocked to join the excitement, enjoying not only the holiday atmosphere but also precious time together, much like the “Golden Week” holidays of today—a rare chance to relax.

That day, Qin Ruyan was in low spirits and decided to go out for a walk, hoping for some distraction. But faced with the lively throngs in the street, she felt only more isolated, her despondency deepening. She resolved to buy a few sugar figurines and head home.

She did not expect, on her way, to witness Lu Wenwen entangled with a woman, the latter accusing him of betraying her. Having been abandoned by her own father, Qin Ruyan and her mother harbored a deep loathing for faithless men. Outraged, she could not help but step forward to intervene.

This incident led to a scuffle between her and Lu Wenwen. Meanwhile, the woman seized the chaos to snatch Lu Wenwen’s money pouch. It turned out she was a thief who had been caught mid-theft by Lu Wenwen. To garner sympathy and escape, she spun slanderous tales to smear his name.

This quarrel became the unlikely start of their acquaintance. When the truth was finally unraveled, Qin Ruyan, deeply apologetic, sought to make amends. Through such exchanges, they grew familiar. During this time, Lu Wenwen discovered that Qin Ruyan was not only well-versed in both the literary and martial arts, but also refreshingly candid—he could not help but develop feelings for her. Yet, at that time, Qin Ruyan’s heart was wholly devoted to Ling Zetian, leaving no space for another. Lu Wenwen, aware of this, kept his affection buried, never once confessing it to her.

Later, when rumors of Feng Qiuji’s affections for him surfaced and he left the Ling Dynasty, the chance to speak his heart to Qin Ruyan slipped away. Now, upon seeing her again, he felt an unexpected joy. But noticing Qin Ruyan by Ling Zetian’s side, he understood—and resolved to let his feelings be interred with him, never to see the light again.

Indeed, there are things in this world better left unsaid. To love someone is to wish only for her happiness—Lu Wenwen understood this well.

Since ancient times, even the greatest heroes have been undone by beauty. No matter how strong or accomplished a man may be, there is always a tender spot in his heart reserved for another, a place that aches sweetly with every memory.

“Why did you go to Fusang to serve another country?” As Lu Wenwen was lost in these memories, Qin Ruyan approached him.

Looking at the face he had quietly admired for so long, now even thinner but with a newfound allure, Lu Wenwen smiled genuinely. “It’s enough for me to know you’re well.”

His answer skirted her question, leaving Qin Ruyan momentarily stunned. Did she really seem to be living well, in the eyes of others? She shook her head with a bitter smile, unable to dispel the lingering sorrow within.

They stood in silence for a long time. Qin Ruyan untied the ropes binding Lu Wenwen.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll run?” Lu Wenwen braced himself against the ground, trying to stand, but his limbs were numb from being restrained so long.

“You’re not that kind of person.” Qin Ruyan reached out to help him up.

“People change. You will, and so will I. I’m no longer the Lu Wenwen of before—are you still the Qin Ruyan you once were?” Lu Wenwen always felt that there was something deeply familiar about her, as if she were an old friend from long ago—a feeling that had been there since the day they met.

Qin Ruyan smiled and shook her head.

Meanwhile, bored out of his mind on the ship, Ling Zexin began searching for Feng Qiuji. He considered her a companion, someone with whom he could pass the time in merriment. Yet, after a thorough search, he found no trace of her.

“Brother, have you seen Sister-in-law?”

“No.” Ling Zetian realized he hadn’t seen Feng Qiuji for several hours.

“Where could she have gone?” Ling Zexin muttered to himself and continued his search.

Ling Zetian, pondering this, put down his book and decided to look for her as well. It was odd—someone as averse to boredom as Feng Qiuji had been missing for so long. In the past, she would have found ways to amuse herself by now.

After a long search, he finally found her in bed, still and seemingly fast asleep. Noting the dark circles under her eyes, he decided to let her rest a while longer. Just as he was about to leave the cabin, he heard her murmur two words in her sleep—was it Wenwen?

Unable to believe his ears, he moved to her bedside. Feng Qiuji’s pale cheeks were now flushed with an abnormal red, her expression twisted in pain.

Ling Zetian placed his hand on her forehead, only to find it burning hot—she was running a high fever. Alarmed, he gently patted her cheek and called her name, “Feng Qiuji, Feng Qiuji…”

But her response left him utterly stunned. In a weak voice, she uttered, “Wenwen…”

This time, he was close enough to hear her clearly. The name she called in her fevered delirium was Wenwen.

Ling Zetian’s face darkened. To his knowledge, Feng Qiuji had never met Lu Wenwen before. This should have been their first encounter. Why then, in her illness, would she call out Lu Wenwen’s name, and so intimately at that?

He had no time for such thoughts now. Seeing her in obvious distress, as if suffering through a nightmare, he focused on waking her. He continued to pat her face, urging her softly, “Feng Qiuji, wake up.”

At that moment, Ling Zexin arrived. Seeing his brother beside the bed, he hurried over. “Brother, what’s wrong with Sister-in-law?”

“She has a fever. Go see if there’s a doctor on board, and bring some ice,” Ling Zetian said urgently.

“Oh, alright!” At the news, Ling Zexin rushed out to find help.

Under Ling Zetian’s persistent efforts, Feng Qiuji finally opened her eyes. Her first words, however, left him bewildered. Gazing at him in confusion, she asked weakly, “Who are you?”

Ling Zetian was taken aback. “Are you so feverish you don’t even recognize me?”

“I really don’t… Who are you? Don’t touch me…” Suddenly aware of her position—resting in Ling Zetian’s arms, his hand on her face—Feng Qiuji tried to push him away, but her strength failed her.

Ling Zetian’s expression grew even grimmer. He could hardly accept that she no longer recognized him.

“Where is Master Lu? I want to see him.” Oblivious to Ling Zetian’s turmoil, Feng Qiuji pressed on, insisting on seeing Lu Wenwen.

At that moment, Ling Zetian felt as if a blockage had formed in his chest, anger simmering beneath the surface.

Yes, he was jealous.

He had known Feng Qiuji for so long, had even slept beside her countless times, yet never once had she called his name in her sleep. Now, after only one meeting with Lu Wenwen, she was delirious with fever and calling for him—was this not utterly absurd?

Worse still, she didn’t even recognize him anymore!

“Brother, good news—there actually is a doctor on this ship!” Ling Zexin burst in, breathless, dragging in a white-haired physician. “Oh? Sister-in-law’s awake?”

Seeing yet another unfamiliar man, Feng Qiuji shrank back in fear, clutching the bedding as she tried to press herself into the corner, trembling and on the verge of tears. “Who are you people? What do you want from me?”

Ling Zexin stood dumbfounded. Feng Qiuji was usually so bold and brash—he had never seen her so frail and tearful. “Brother, what’s wrong with her?”

“It seems she’s lost her memory—she doesn’t recognize us,” Ling Zetian replied, deeply agitated. He seized the doctor by the arm. “Quick, see what’s wrong with her!”

The elderly physician reached for her wrist, but this movement startled Feng Qiuji even more. She recoiled under the covers, eyes wide with terror, pleading, “No, please… don’t touch me…”

She looked as if she feared the men would violate her.

Ling Zetian’s frustration mounted, and he decisively pressed her acupoint to immobilize her arm, then offered her wrist to the doctor.

After taking her pulse, the old doctor appeared to understand the situation and immediately began writing a prescription.

“Doctor, what’s wrong with her?” Ling Zexin asked anxiously.

“Don’t worry,” the doctor replied. “Her pulse is steady; there’s nothing seriously amiss. She’s caught a cold—let me prepare some herbal medicine, and she’ll be fine.”

“Then why doesn’t she recognize us?” Ling Zetian pressed, unsettled by the doctor’s calm.

“It’s likely the fever has confused her mind—she’ll remember once she recovers.”

Reassured, Ling Zexin relaxed. But Ling Zetian, watching Feng Qiuji’s frightened and unfamiliar gaze, felt a deep sense of loss. The familiar warmth in her eyes was gone.

At that moment, he felt as if he had truly lost her.