Chapter Twenty-Seven: Revival

The night stretched endlessly, sleepless and forlorn. Lu Chenyuan sat in the woodshed, clutching the cowhide wine pouch tightly to his chest.

The one who was supposed to come for a drink never returned through the night.

His mind was in turmoil—sometimes he saw her drunkenly sprawled among the flowers, sometimes her smiling scold, calling him a "silly boy," and then, atop the roof, her cold voice echoing: "Don’t come back to see me again." These thousand scenes and myriad flavors twisted in his chest, making him ache to the point of despair.

As his emotions surged, the innate demon within him seized the opportunity, repeatedly threatening to break free. Scales would sometimes ripple across his skin, shadows of eyes appeared, but each time, he forced himself to concentrate, silently reciting the incantations his master had taught him to suppress the evil force. This cycle of struggle lasted all night, draining him beyond words.

When dawn painted the sky, its light seemed unable to reach his heart at all. He stared at the untouched wine pouch in his arms; the last flicker of hope in his heart finally extinguished.

His master really was gone.

Suddenly, Lu Chenyuan felt at a loss, looking around in bewilderment. The bright and clear world seemed to lose its color in an instant, everything becoming dull and gray.

He should have gone to the front hall to help, but now, nothing seemed worth doing, and he could not summon the slightest strength.

During the day, Qian Dahai had visited the backyard. Seeing Lu Chenyuan sitting there, hugging the wine pouch like a lifeless clay figure, he sighed deeply and advised, "Boy, rest here and don’t wander about. You needn’t worry about the inn’s chores today."

Lu Chenyuan remained oblivious, not even moving his eyes.

Unknowingly, the sun slanted west—it was already afternoon.

A clear, cheerful voice rang out outside the woodshed: "So this is where Brother Lu is! I wondered why I couldn’t find you anywhere in the inn."

The visitor wore a moon-white silk robe and held a white jade folding fan. It was none other than Shangguan Chuci.

Her gaze swept the room, noting the unopened wine pouch and the absence of his wine-loving master. She guessed seven or eight parts of what had happened.

Seeing Lu Chenyuan’s dejected expression, yet his body still intact, she breathed a sigh of relief. She meant to leave, but her feet seemed rooted to the spot, unable to move.

She was not usually meddlesome, but his look of abandonment—like a lone wolf cast aside by the world—reminded her of herself, alone on the seaside rocks, moon overhead and no one to confide in.

She thought, "This world is full of mire; someone must reach out and pull those sinking souls back."

With this in mind, a gentle smile appeared on her face as she approached, speaking softly:

"Troubled by love—that’s not the Lu I remember."

Lu Chenyuan trembled, slowly raising his head, his eyes empty as he murmured, "Love?"

He instinctively recalled the words, "She is my woman," but by the time they reached his lips, they became a weak whisper, "No, she is just my master."

Shangguan Chuci felt a pang of inexplicable bitterness in her heart, but she kept her smile and did not argue, only said,

"The word 'love' holds many forms—respect, affection, devotion, the urge to protect... All are roots deeply planted in the heart, so why say 'just'?"

She paused, leaning forward slightly, teasing lightly:

"You’re so eager to deny it, it only makes your feelings more obvious."

Lu Chenyuan stiffened.

Seeing she’d made her point, Shangguan Chuci reached out her delicate hand to take his arm.

"Come, let me walk with you. If you stay shut in here, she will never return."

Unexpectedly, Lu Chenyuan shook her hand off and stood abruptly. "What do you know? She... she will return!"

Shangguan Chuci neither scolded nor grew angry. Her beautiful eyes watched him quietly, a smile lingering, as if she saw through every self-deceiving hope in his heart.

Under her gaze, Lu Chenyuan’s stubbornness and grief melted away, his shoulders slumping as he lowered his head once more.

Only then did Shangguan Chuci step forward, half forcing, half guiding him out.

The two walked from the woodshed, and the warm afternoon sunlight fell on Lu Chenyuan’s face. He instinctively squinted, the brightness seeming almost unfamiliar to him.

When they reached the side gate of the backyard, ready to step out, a voice called:

"Hey, Young Master Chu, that won’t do!"

Qian Dahai had somehow appeared at the door, his round face full of concern as he waved his hands.

"Look at this boy—he hasn’t eaten or drunk all day, like he’s lost his soul. The wind is strong out there, and he’s frail; if he catches cold, what then? No matter how important, let him regain his strength first, right?"

As he spoke, he stepped closer, reaching his greasy hand toward Lu Chenyuan’s forehead.

But quicker than a thought, a white shadow flashed—Shangguan Chuci’s white jade fan snapped out, blocking Qian Dahai’s wrist with a crisp slap.

She said cheerfully, "Manager Qian truly cares for his people. But I think Brother Lu’s illness is not of the body, but of the heart."

"The knot in his heart must be loosened by walking, by feeling the sea breeze. That’s more effective than any medicine."

Though her words were gentle, her gaze was cold as stars, tightly fixed on Qian Dahai.

Qian Dahai’s smile froze. In that instant, Shangguan Chuci sensed a chilling, bone-deep malignance emanating from him, like being stared at by a lurking beast from the abyss, making every hair stand on end.

She tensed, narrowing her eyes in vigilance, but the sinister aura vanished so quickly it seemed an illusion.

Qian Dahai laughed awkwardly, withdrew his hand and rubbed it, saying,

"Yes, yes, Young Master Chu is right. Go on, but don’t stay out too long; come back early."

The two left the inn and walked along the long street.

Despite the recent tension in town, the daylight brought some relief. People came and went in crowds—an old man selling sugar figurines tempting children, neighbors quarreling heatedly, groups of friends laughing in the street.

Lu Chenyuan watched it all, feeling none of it concerned him. The livelier the scene, the lonelier his heart became.

They walked in silence for a while before Shangguan Chuci finally spoke, her tone light:

"Brother Lu, do you plan to go on like this forever?"

Lu Chenyuan said nothing.

She continued, "Would your master, such a person as she is, want to see you in this half-dead state?"

"Besides, perhaps she’s only gone for some business. If she returns and finds you so despondent, she may be even less pleased, and turn right around."

These words startled Lu Chenyuan, and he immediately pictured Situ’s stunning face, languid and tipsy.

"That’s right... Master... she hates seeing people sniveling and pathetic. If she came back and saw me like this, she’d probably grab her crimson wine gourd, scold me for being useless, and leave again without a backward glance..."

At that thought, a faint light gathered once more in his eyes.

He told himself, "It’s true—what is the use of wallowing in sorrow? Master may not have truly abandoned me, and even if I wait for her, I must not look like this."

"Besides, the demon within me is ever watchful; if I sink further, I’ll become a monster long before she returns."

With this realization, much of his pent-up grief dissipated.

Lu Chenyuan turned to Shangguan Chuci, gratitude in his voice:

"Thank you, Young Master Chu."

Seeing his spirit revived, Shangguan Chuci smiled warmly.

"Now that you’ve pulled yourself together, that’s best. Aren’t you investigating the inn’s affairs? If you need to channel your restlessness, why not focus it there?"

Her tone shifted, as if in passing: "Have you noticed, lately, that Manager Qian seems very caring toward you, but actually doesn’t want you to leave the inn for a moment?"

Lu Chenyuan’s heart skipped. "Manager Qian has treated me well; why would he..."

Shangguan Chuci’s gaze was enigmatic as she replied,

"Is that so? To me, he seems more like a butcher fattening a sheep—carefully feeding and tending, all for the day he can slaughter it for a good price."

Lu Chenyuan fell silent, though his mind was tumultuous.

Shangguan Chuci snapped open her white jade fan, revealing four bold characters: "For the Public Good." She waved it lightly.

"These are just my own thoughts. Believe them or not, consider as you wish—that’s up to you, Brother Lu."

She glanced at the sky. "It’s getting late; if we don’t return soon, Manager Qian will truly be anxious."

As she finished, her gaze lingered a moment on Lu Chenyuan’s pale face, then shifted to a steaming bun stall at the street corner.

Without another word, she walked over, drew a few copper coins from her sleeve, and bought two piping hot meat buns.

She wrapped one in oiled paper and handed it to Lu Chenyuan, teasing,

"Here, fill your belly first. If you starve to death on this street, all my talk today would be wasted. I, Shangguan Chuci, never make a bad bargain."

Lu Chenyuan took the still-warm bun, feeling its heat seep from his palm all the way to his heart.

Shangguan Chuci bit into hers, noticing Lu Chenyuan still staring at her, her gaze unconsciously softened, and she said with her mouth full,

"In my hometown, we say ‘the stomach is closest to the heart.’ When you’re troubled, start by filling your belly. Once your stomach is warm, your heart will feel better too."

Swallowing the mouthful, she smiled gently:

"So, Brother Lu, the sadder you are, the less you should neglect yourself."