Chapter 11

I couldn’t remember the reason I enlisted, but I remembered the soaring battle spirit, the dejection of defeat, and the cheers of victory. I was entirely fused into the military life, immersed in the role of a soldier. I had witnessed the deaths of countless comrades, and I had long since handed over my own life and death as well. The reason wasn’t important anymore.

Ji Wenmu’s eyes were very red. He asked me, “Why, exactly, did you enlist?”

I thought for a while and wrote, “To repay the coun…”

He directly grabbed my writing hand, staring at me unblinking, his eyes filled with tension and seriousness.

“Not because of me?”

I froze for a moment, my eyes going wide.

“Where would you get that much charm?” I shot him a look. He stared intently at his palm, deciphering the words I had written.

After I finished the last stroke, he looked at me. His eyes were wet, washed clean by tears, containing a mixture of confusion and an inexplicable resistance.

“What… did you forget?” His Adam’s apple bobbed a few times before he asked me carefully, “Do you still remember, what, what I am to you?”

“I remember you. You are Ji Wenmu,” I wrote. “You are my best brother since childhood.”

“Brother…” He seemed to be muttering to himself, lost in his own world. “You forgot?”

“Forgot what? If not a brother, what else could you be?”

I looked at him with a smile. He stared back blankly, as if he had lost his soul. Watching me, he shook his head, the corners of his lips curling into a tiny arc.

“That’s right, a brother.”

I didn’t see Ji Wenmu for a long time. Both he and Uncle Ji were punished for the security failure during the Autumn Hunt. Most of their time was spent either in the palace or the military camp.

Aunt Ji came by often to keep me company and feed me tonics, fattening me up quite a bit.

After recuperating for several months, I was bored out of my mind. Liang Ji came every day to change my dressings and would tell me many amusing anecdotes from his travels. The story of his difficult survival in a bandit lair, eventually rising to become the third-in-command, made me laugh every single time I heard it.

The injury on my throat had improved a bit, but it hadn’t fully recovered. Liang Ji suggested I remain silent a while longer and practice calligraphy in the meantime.

He looked gentle and polite, but he didn’t mince words when it came to striking a nerve.

My handwriting was ugly, sure, but as long as it was legible, wasn’t that enough?

He wrote, “You’re not a teacher, why do you care how I write?”

His handwriting, unlike his appearance, was remarkably uninhibited, even somewhat bold. Actually, I was the one who couldn’t read what *he* wrote.

Over time, seeing those eyes again lost its initial stunning impact on me, but Aunt Ji grew to like him more and more. I also noticed that his cheeks had plumped up quite a bit during these days.

He told me, “I heard there is a miracle doctor down in Yannan. Once your injury is completely healed, I will go seek him out.”

I looked at him. The brush hovered in the air, a drop of ink blooming into a dark stain on the Xuan paper.

“You’re not staying in the capital?”

He nodded. “I originally came to the capital to exchange medical knowledge with the top physicians in the city. Now that I have reached my conclusions, and coincidentally the Yannan miracle doctor is rising in fame, it’s the perfect time to pay a visit.”

I couldn’t exactly describe how I felt, but I sensed that if he left, my days would become much more boring. But what could I use to keep him here? He had traveled the world since childhood and seen everything under the sun; why would he stay in one place?

I wrote on the paper, “If you’re in a hurry, you can go now. My injuries are no longer a major concern.”

“There’s no rush. Compared to exchanging notes with peers, being responsible to my own patient is more important.”

He smiled at me, the pool of water in his eyes seeming ready to overflow with his smile.

I nodded and lowered my head to continue practicing calligraphy. He leaned closer to watch for a while. “Why does it look so weak and lifeless? Where is the strength in your strokes?”

I wrote, “You’re not a teacher, why do you care how I write?”

He took a few extra glances at me, then suddenly revealed a look of realization. Without saying a word, he left the room for a trip and returned holding a bowl of brown sugar water.

“Drink it. Will your mood improve a bit?”

Meeting his understanding gaze, I felt too embarrassed to refuse. I forced myself to drink the bowl of sweet water. The last mouthful was the most cloyingly sweet. Just as I frowned and swallowed it down, the door was suddenly pushed open. Startled, I choked on that mouthful right in my throat.

I covered my mouth and coughed. Liang Ji handed me a bowl of clear water and looked toward the door. “Young General Ji is here.”