Lü Jue really was hopeless.
Qi Shan wasn't the only one who thought so. Lü Jue thought so himself.
Over the years, he had imagined countless ways the two of them might reunite, rehearsing each scene in his mind again and again.
Perhaps he would still be a lowly slave struggling in the mire, while she was a noblewoman from a great house, with a husband of distinguished birth and dutiful children at her knee. Perhaps he would have achieved fame and success, carved a path through every obstacle, and finally reached her, only for her not to remember his name. Or perhaps they would never meet again in their entire lives.
If Heaven took pity on him and granted him a reunion, what should he say first?
Ask if she remembered him?
Ask how she had fared all these years?
Ask if she was willing to leave with him?
Or say nothing at all, and let kindling meet flame as they poured out their longing?
Her familiar, lovely silhouette was within reach. She was no longer a distant, hazy figure from his dreams. Lü Jue's mind was a muddle. His feet seemed rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on her as though he had been born as a part of her.
When Qi Zhongshu left, Lü Jue did not follow.
He saw Mei Meng make an excuse to take her leave of Cui Hui, and, as if possessed, followed her. The temporary residence Mei Meng had found was only two streets away from Cui Hui's. On the way, she stopped at a cloth shop and ordered several bolts of fabric. The colors and styles she chose were clearly meant for an adult man.
She spent nearly half an hour wandering outside before returning to her lodgings.
The residence