A Pair of Beauties, Lingering on Both Sides

After a round of drinking and rambling banter, the Capital City had fallen into night.

The corpse stitchers and clerks from every shop had all gone back to sleep.

With the Autumn Examination preparations set for tomorrow, the Bureau of Corpse Management had given all the corpse-stitching shops the night off—no stitching required. It was a peaceful night.

Lin Shou was just tidying up the leftover wine when he heard a "thump."

It came from the alley between the Corpse-Stitching Shop and the teahouse.

He picked up a lantern and shone it inside. An Yunli was sitting on the ground, rubbing her backside—clearly she'd fallen while climbing the wall again. This time was better, at least; she hadn't twisted her ankle.

"Can't you use the front door?"

"Big Sister... Big Sister won't let me out..."

An Yunli scrambled up from the ground, dusting off her clothes.

Lin Shou's eyes widened as he tried to scare her: "And you still came out?! Running away from home again?!"

"You, don't yell at me... don't yell at me..."

An Yunli trembled in fright.

"I came to find you..."

As she spoke, she crept forward cautiously, like a little rabbit approaching a big tiger, and placed a sachet she'd been clutching tightly in her hand into Lin Shou's palm.

Lin Shou was a bit surprised and asked, "What's this?"

"A, a sachet..."

"Of course I know it's a sachet. Did you sew it?"

"Mm..."

Lin Shou chuckled, looking at the delicate sachet in his hand. He hadn't expected this frail little thing, An Yunli, to have such nimble fingers.

"Why give me this? Got a crush on me?"

"No, no!..."

An Yunli's face flushed bright red. A sheltered young lady from a proper household, who'd barely even seen a man before—how could she handle Lin Shou's rogue talk?

"The, the candy you gave me—it made the medicine not taste so bitter."

So it was a thank-you gift. Lin Shou smiled. Fair enough.

"I, I need to go back."

Having handed over the sachet, An Yunli didn't dare stay near Lin Shou, this great Devil King. Deep down, she knew he was a good person—he'd treated her illness and given her candy—but she still found him terrifying when he got fierce, like he might eat her up.

An Yunli turned to leave, but when she raised both little hands, she still couldn't reach the top of the wall. Awkwardly, she looked back at Lin Shou.

Lin Shou squinted with a smile and stretched out both arms.

"Climb on yourself."

"..."

An Yunli returned to her boudoir with a face burning red. Once inside, she threw herself onto the bed and buried her face in the pillow, her cheeks scalding hot. She thought to herself: No next time. I'm never climbing that wall again.

On the other side.

Lin Shou cheerfully vaulted back over the wall to the front of the Corpse-Stitching Shop. He glanced at the sachet An Yunli had sewn for him, feeling pretty pleased.

Suddenly, he heard the door creak and footsteps.

Lin Shou reacted instantly. With a swift motion, he tucked the sachet behind his back and stashed it into the Three Immortals Return to the Cave.

When he looked up, Ning Luowei was standing there holding a bowl of Hangover Soup. Her peach-blossom eyes blinked curiously as she craned her neck to peek behind him:

"What are you hiding?"

"Hiding? What would I have to hide?"

Lin Shou's face showed not a trace of a guilty conscience. Instead, he asked back with a perfectly normal expression: "What are you here for?"

"I saw you drinking, so I brought you some Hangover Soup."

Ning Luowei eyed him suspiciously, then handed him the soup. Lin Shou drank it down, feeling a warm, pleasant heat spread through his body, and couldn't help but show a satisfied expression.

"Tastes good."

Ning Luowei's cat-like eyes curved into little crescent moons as she smiled, like a new bride showing off her merits.

Lin Shou did think it was good, but he didn't want to admit it to her face. After finishing the soup, he shooed her away.

"It's late. Go back to sleep."

"Oh, I'm going then."

Ning Luowei pouted and stuck out her tongue, but as she turned to leave, she suddenly looked back and said with a grin:

"Husband, if you ever really plan to make a run for it, remember to come carry me away. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Tsk, sharp ears.

Lin Shou figured she must have overheard what Seventh Master said earlier.

After seeing Ning Luowei off, Lin Shou cleared the leftover wine from the table. Seventh Master had drunk heavily just now and launched into his tragic love story again—he told it every time, and it had become a staple of their drinking sessions.

Don't let Seventh Master's current solitary state fool you, nor the way he always told Lin Shou to take the initiative with any rare girl he fancied, carrying himself like a lovelorn sage stuffed with pickup knowledge who just couldn't land a date.

In truth, when Seventh Master was young, he once had a love story that made people sigh with regret.

Seventh Master worked as a water carrier in his youth. Back then, there was no advanced running water system; people mainly relied on wells for water. But not every household had a well, yet every household needed water, so the trade of water carrier came into being.

He'd arranged with clients in advance, delivering water door to door each morning, and the homeowners paid him per trip.

When Seventh Master was doing this job, he delivered water to one household that had a daughter of marriageable age—fair-skinned, clean, and pretty. Seventh Master was no slouch in his youth either. Over time, the two took a liking to each other. Every day, Seventh Master would short her one bucket's worth of money when delivering water, and the girl knitted him a wool scarf. Their mutual affection was just like those stories in the books—a poor boy and a rich girl in love.

But the protagonists in those tales overcome hardships and end up together with a happy ending—that's just stories. Reality is always full of regrets.

Would a wealthy family let their daughter marry a water carrier?

Even in Lin Shou's past life, people cared about matching social status, let alone in this era, where parents' commands and matchmakers' words ruled.

Her family arranged a match and betrothed her to the son of a mid-ranking official. When Seventh Master heard the news, he was lost and dejected for a long time.

Yet on the night before the wedding, the girl came to Seventh Master's place on her own and asked him if he truly cared for her. If he did, then take her away—elope together.

She was willing to abandon her fine family and a suitable husband to elope with Seventh Master, a water carrier. That was genuine, heartfelt love.

With such a woman, what more could a man ask for? They should have fled the Capital City that very night, and by the time her family noticed at dawn, even fast horses couldn't catch them. But Seventh Master chickened out.

He'd grown up in the Capital City carrying water for a living, never left it, never seen the world. How would they get by after eloping? He could endure hardship himself—he'd gone hungry before when there was no work—but how could he support her? She was used to a life of comfort and luxury. If she eloped with him and suffered every day, not knowing where her next meal would come from, how could that work?

A poor man has no ambition; a skinny horse has long hair.

The girl was willing to elope with Seventh Master, but he didn't dare agree.

That night, she went home crying.

Seventh Master clutched the scarf she'd given him, unable to sleep all night. The thought of the girl he cherished marrying another man tomorrow cut his heart like a knife, but when he looked at his bare, impoverished home, he just didn't have the confidence to say yes.

The next day was the wedding, with a grand feast for guests. Seventh Master claimed illness and didn't deliver water for days, sending someone else in his place. He never went back, afraid to see her again.

Unexpectedly, over half a month later, while Seventh Master was drinking gloomily by the roadside, he came face to face with a beautiful married woman accompanied by a maidservant out shopping—who else could it be but that girl?

They stared at each other in silence. Seventh Master used the scarf to hide his disheveled, shameful face, not wanting her to see. But the girl stepped forward, kicked him hard, snatched the scarf, and threw it into a nearby roasted sweet potato stove to burn. Before leaving, she only said one thing.

"You coward."

That one sentence stabbed into Seventh Master's heart like a knife.

In broad daylight on a busy street, a grown man sat on the ground and wailed, crying his heart out.

Men don't easily shed tears—only when they've reached the depths of sorrow.

Regret! He regretted it!

People only cherish what they've lost.

If you have a favorite bowl sitting there, you don't know how much you love it. You say, I dote on it, I treasure it—that's enough love, right? No. Only when that bowl shatters, and you see how much your heart aches, how loudly you cry—that's how much you truly loved it.

That girl was like the bowl in Seventh Master's heart. While he held and treasured it, he thought, I can't give her a good life; when it's time to let go, I can grit my teeth and bear it.

But when the day of letting go truly came, and the bowl shattered, Seventh Master realized this wasn't something you could grit your teeth through. It was like someone cutting a small slit in his heart, then stirring it with a barbed stick while pouring in molten iron.

No matter how much he cried himself dry or hoarse, the person he'd missed was gone forever. In the days that followed, within the Capital City, she became the wife of a mid-ranking official, and he remained a water carrier.

The Capital City—big, yet not too big; small, yet not too small.

But they never saw each other again.

Or maybe they did, and just didn't recognize each other.