Chapter 2 Rescued

Chapter 2: Saved

The sky was just beginning to lighten, with dark clouds hanging low and oppressive overhead. The morning mist, thick with moisture, blanketed the river surface. Amidst the gurgling flow of the water, the plants along the bank appeared hazy and indistinct.

The light stung his eyelids. After his eyes fluttered several times, Jian Ru abruptly opened them.

"Huff... cough, cough..." He gasped for air, interspersed with violent coughs and dry heaves, his entire chest aching intensely.

He turned his head to the side and coughed up several mouthfuls of murky water.

It took a while for Jian Ru to even out his breathing. Blinking his heavy eyelids, he realized that every part of his body hurt. His clothes were soaked and clung to him tightly. Despite it being summer, he felt bitterly cold, and shivers wracked his body.

Somewhere in the nearby mountains, an animal howled, accompanied by chilling bird cries. The sounds were distant and muffled, like listening through a barrier.

Water must have gotten into his ears.

Jian Ru shook his head and nearly vomited from the nausea. He closed his eyes and took another moment to recover.

Patter, patter. Large raindrops began to fall, hitting Jian Ru’s face and body. It was raining again.

He hadn’t died. Jian Ru smiled bitterly. It seemed the River God had rejected him too.

His back was aching from the stones digging into it, and he was freezing. He looked around.

This had to be somewhere downstream of Zhuxiu River. The water here was shallow, and he had been washed ashore, trapped by the pebbles along the bank.

Once again, fate had spared him, but though it let him live, it refused to let him live well.

Jian Ru felt utterly desolate.

The rain grew heavier. If he continued lying there, death wouldn’t be far off.

Better to live miserably than die well. Jian Ru stopped dwelling on it and, propping himself up on his elbows, prepared to rise from the ground. It was then that he noticed something heavy pressing down on his lower body, pinning him down.

Straining to lift his head and look down, Jian Ru saw a cascade of jet-black hair, its ends dipped in the river, swaying gently with the current. The owner of the hair lay draped over his waist, dressed in white robes that were also soaked and stained with mud.

Jian Ru blinked in surprise, then lowered his gaze to the pale, slender hand resting on his chest.

After a moment, he realized with embarrassment. His face flushed, and he quickly shoved the hand off.

The hand fell limply to the ground beside him.

Jian Ru stared at the hand for a while before suddenly mustering his strength. Gripping the person’s shoulders, he used every ounce of strength to roll them off.

Exhausted and in even more pain, Jian Ru gasped for breath.

The veins on his forehead bulged as he squinted to see whether the person was alive or dead. But when he clearly saw the other’s face, he stared, stunned.

Jian Ru had never seen skin so fair or anyone so beautiful.

Though the sun was hidden, Jian Ru felt as if this person glowed with an otherworldly radiance, like an immortal from a painting.

Who was this? How had they ended up washed ashore with him?

Could it be...? An absurd idea crossed Jian Ru’s muddled mind. Could this person... be the River God?

...

The rain grew heavier, pouring down in sheets.

Jian Ru, bending over in the heavy rain, struggled to drag a person toward the foot of the mountain.

He had already looked around—the area was desolate with no houses in sight. Only a shallow cave at the foot of the mountain could offer temporary shelter.

The person he was dragging seemed to be stirring slightly, his long eyebrows slightly furrowed, and his chest rising and falling unevenly. The ground was covered in mud, stones, and branches, making the dragging uncomfortable, but Jian Ru had done his best. The person appeared thin but was quite tall; Jian Ru had tried carrying him but found it impossible.

After finally dragging the person into the cave, Jian Ru was so exhausted that his vision blurred. He collapsed at the cave entrance, gasping for breath as he watched the torrential rain outside.

Absentmindedly, he caught rainwater in one hand, rubbing it against the other hand, over and over.

There was a rustling sound from inside the cave. Jian Ru turned to look and saw the white-clad man lying on the ground, raising a hand to his forehead as if he had a headache.

Then, he lowered his hand, propped himself up, and sat up. His long hair cascaded down, revealing fine eyebrows and eyes.

His gaze turned toward the cave entrance, meeting Jian Ru’s eyes.

"You... who are you?" The young man’s voice was slightly hoarse.

Jian Ru swallowed.

The man had fair skin, full, red lips, and flushed cheeks, which contrasted strikingly with his black hair.

He seemed otherworldly—could he really be the River God? Jian Ru thought to himself.

He was asking who he was? Jian Ru wanted to say he was Jian Ru from Longevity Village, or that he had been thrown into the river as a replacement sacrifice for the River God. But the situation was too complicated to explain in just a few words.

The other had been waiting for a while, and Jian Ru grew anxious. Without thinking, he blurted out, "I’m your wife."

As soon as he said it, Jian Ru’s face flushed bright red.

The young man, noticing the dripping red wedding dress Jian Ru was wearing, showed clear confusion and surprise.

"Wait, no—" Jian Ru stood up to explain, tugging aside the half-fallen red veil that had been covering part of his face. But the young man’s gaze fixed on the left side of his face, his expression growing even more astonished.

Jian Ru froze mid-step, suddenly remembering the disfiguring scar on his face. He wanted to cover it but forced himself to stay still, clenching his jaw as he let the other stare openly.

"I..." the man spoke again.

Jian Ru looked up, only to see the man’s eyes roll back, before he collapsed to the ground with a thud, unconscious.

Jian Ru stood there in a daze, touching the scar on his face. His heart tightened, and he felt utterly miserable.

The River God... had fainted from fright because of him.

...

After that, the young man didn't wake again.

What Jian Ru had mistaken for a rosy complexion was actually a high fever—so severe that even the man’s rapid breaths felt scorching hot.

Jian Ru withdrew his hand from the man’s forehead, feeling at a loss.

He had been soaked in the river for half the night and was still wet. Aside from the injuries from being tossed in the water and the exhaustion of moving the man, he had no other problems. But this tall man, despite his height, was not as tough and seemed to be getting sicker by the moment.

Jian Ru looked out from the cave entrance—the landscape was obscured, almost merged with the rain. Runoff rushed, washing the soil into small rivulets that flowed toward the lower riverbed.

The man needed a fire to warm up and some hot water to drink.

At the foot of the mountain, there was plenty of fallen branches. He could gather firewood outside, but after days of rain, the wood was completely waterlogged and would need to be dried before it could catch fire.

He checked his person; beneath the red wedding dress were his own clothes. In the small pocket he had sewn himself, there were a few copper coins and an emergency fire striker, but they were long soaked through and ruined.

Jian Ru sighed, hesitantly tearing off a corner of the wedding dress. He soaked it in rainwater, wrung it out, and placed it on the young man’s forehead.

He sat nearby, waiting for the rain to stop so he could search the area for any villages, while occasionally touching the red cloth. When it grew warm, he got up to rinse it again.

Occasionally, he also caught some rainwater in his palm to give to the man.

After who knows how many rounds of this, the young man’s breathing grew increasingly rapid and hot. Jian Ru couldn’t tell if it was the red cloth bleeding dye, but the man’s entire face was terrifyingly red.

Jian Ru was getting frantic.

After much hesitation, he gritted his teeth and removed the upper part of the man’s outer garments. Not daring to look too closely, he wrung out as much water as possible from the garments and only covered him again once they were dry.

He couldn’t bring himself to touch the trousers.

Instead, he tore off another piece of cloth from his own clothes, soaked it, wrung it dry, and reached under the man’s covering to wipe his body and cool him down.

After what felt like an eternity of effort, the man’s face was less red, and his breathing had slowed. Jian Ru reached out to feel his forehead and thought it seemed slightly cooler.

Jian Ru breathed a small sigh of relief. Only then did he realize how exhausted, hungry, and cold he was. Drowsiness made it almost impossible to keep his eyes open. He closed his eyes, rubbing his hands together, and thought he would rest for just a moment—just a moment—and then, without realizing it, he fell asleep.

He didn’t know how long he slept, but Jian Ru suddenly opened his eyes, sensing something was wrong.

Outside, the sky had darkened, and the rain still hadn’t stopped—it poured down as if the heavens had sprung a leak.

He turned to look at the young man beside him. In the dim light, the man’s face was as pale as paper, sallow and lifeless, his chest rising and falling weakly.

Terrified, Jian Ru scrambled up and placed a trembling hand under the man’s nose to check his breathing. To his horror, it seemed the man was exhaling more than inhaling—his breaths were shallow and fading.

This time, Jian Ru cast aside all hesitation.

He had once cared for Zhang Jiao’s bedridden mother, so he moved with practiced efficiency, stripping off the young man’s trousers and laying them out on the cold, hard ground alongside his other clothes.

Then, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, he reached for his own collar, undid the hidden fasteners, and swiftly removed his clothes until only his undershirt remained. He draped the garments, slightly dried by his own body heat, over the man. Lastly, he used a branch to prop up the outermost red wedding dress at the cave entrance, securing the bottom in the soil to block some of the wind and rain.

After finishing these tasks, Jian Ru returned to the man’s side.

With the entrance blocked, it was almost too dark to see anything. He could barely make out the figure lying motionless on the ground, looking as still as death.

Jian Ru hesitated no longer. With a few quick movements, he removed his undershirt as well and laid it over the man. He rubbed his arms, now covered in goosebumps from the cold, then bent down, lifted the layers of clothing, and slipped underneath, clinging tightly to the frail body beneath.

When their skin touched, Jian Ru shuddered, but he had no other thoughts. The other’s body was as cold as a corpse; if not for the faint heartbeat he could feel, Jian Ru would have thought he had already died.

In the darkness, with the wind howling and rain pouring outside, Jian Ru’s lips trembled slightly. He closed his eyes tightly and buried his face in the man’s cold neck.

Jian Ru was exhausted, hungry, and heartbroken.

Jiang Maocai and Zhang Jiao had probably long since fled the village and gone wherever they wanted to go.

“All these years, since I understood things, the one I’ve liked is Jiao Jiao. You two were always together. To make Jiao Jiao happy, I was just nice to you by extension.”

“I never had any feelings for you, especially after the accident left your face like a demon’s. How could I possibly like you?”

Jiang Maocai’s words echoed in his ears as if spoken just moments ago.

Jian Ru wanted to cry but found he no longer could.

The temple master had said that saving a life was greater than building a seven-story pagoda.

Jian Ru thought, his life had been so meaningless. If he could save this man, then perhaps his existence wouldn’t have been entirely in vain.

……

Jian Ru fell asleep, or perhaps passed out from hunger and exhaustion.

At some point, he felt as if someone was speaking to him and carefully moving him.

Jian Ru groaned softly but couldn’t open his eyes or muster the strength to speak. Soon, he lost consciousness again.

Later, he woke once more, still unable to open his eyes. He felt his whole body swaying gently, as if lying in the cradle his father had made for him as a child.

Someone fed him water, and he gulped it down thirstily. Even after finishing, he still wanted more and accidentally bit the person’s finger.

The owner of the hand had a gentle temper and didn’t get angry. Instead, they patted his shoulder soothingly and brought him more water.

Jian Ru gulped it down again.

Before sinking back into sleep, he turned his disfigured cheek into the pillow, hiding it.

Hazily, he thought, *This is a good person. I mustn’t scare them.*

……

When Jian Ru opened his eyes again, he was lying in an unfamiliar room, on a bed.

Half of the bed curtain was drawn back, revealing a window diagonally across from him, covered with oiled paper. Beside the window stood a carved flower stand with an elegantly blooming white orchid.

Next to the flower stand was a long desk holding writing brushes, ink, paper, and an inkstone, with an armchair placed beside it.

The room carried a faint, unidentifiable yet pleasant scent—a mix of medicinal herbs and some other fragrance—that was quite pleasant.

This wasn’t his home.

Jian Ru came to his senses, memories flooding his mind like water. Uneasy, he sat up.

The thick quilt slid down, revealing the thin, soft sleepwear he was wearing.

These weren’t his original clothes. Jian Ru reached up to touch them—they were made of fine material he had never seen before.

His hair and body had clearly been washed, and beneath the sleepwear, he wore nothing else.

Jian Ru grew even more uneasy.

Just then, footsteps sounded outside the door. Jian Ru pulled the quilt up tightly, watching the entrance warily.

A moment later, the wooden door creaked open, and a fair-skinned lad entered carrying a tray.

Seeing Jian Ru awake in bed, he exclaimed, “Oh! The young master is finally awake!”

As he spoke, he walked to the bedside, placed the tray on a round table nearby, and hooked up the other half of the bed curtain.

Watching his movements, Jian Ru sensed unfriendliness from the man’s tone.

“Where am I? Who are you?” Jian Ru asked.

The lad sat on a stool by the bed, looking at him, his gaze lingering especially long on the disfigured half of Jian Ru’s face.

Jian Ru let him look, neither avoiding nor flinching.

"This is Squire Li of Hexi's horse estate," the young man replied. "I am Sun Yushuang, the third son's wife of Squire Li."

Jian Ru knew of Squire Li and had heard of this estate.

Back when he used to go to town for fun, he would often see the estate from a distance on the road. At that time, Zhang Jiao had once said enviously that it was a place for the wealthy—just working as a horse groom for Squire Li would be enough to support an entire family.

Jian Ru had never imagined that one day he would actually set foot inside this estate, let alone stay in such a fine room, even if only temporarily.

Sun Yushuang, sitting by the bed, had a clear, soft complexion, bright eyes, and white teeth. His attire was elegant, and his every movement carried a natural grace. Even his name sounded refined and pleasant.

Although Jian Ru had no intention of comparing himself to others, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat inferior.

This was not a place that belonged to him.

He gently stroked the smooth bedding beneath him, curled his fingers, and said, "My name is Jian Ru, from Longevity Village. I don’t know which benefactor saved me, but I’d like to meet them and thank them properly."

Sun Yushuang smiled—a smile that carried a hidden meaning. He looked Jian Ru over and asked, "And after you express your gratitude?"

Jian Ru looked at him, puzzled. "After expressing my gratitude, I’ll naturally return home."

Sun Yushuang’s smile grew even stranger. He tsk-ed and said, "When the time comes, will you still be willing to go back?"

"What?" Jian Ru didn’t understand what he meant.

Sun Yushuang stopped smiling, and his expression took on a sharper edge.

"Recently, Squire Li’s nephew, Young Master Li Er, has been recuperating at this estate. Two evenings ago, while taking a stroll by the river, he slipped and fell into the water. The men of the Li family were all away, and it took a full day and two nights to find him in a cave downstream along the Zhuxiu River."

Jian Ru remembered the young man he had dragged into the cave, and of course, he also remembered what he had done to keep that person alive before he passed out.

Even though he wasn’t particularly thin-skinned, recalling this incident still made his face grow hot.

He wondered how that person was doing—whether he had survived.

Now that his mind was clear, he realized that the man couldn’t possibly have been the River God. How could a River God drown or fall so seriously ill?

Sun Yushuang’s tone was indifferent. "You saved the second young master of the Li family. Now you’re their great benefactor."

It seemed the man was alright. Jian Ru breathed a sigh of relief.

Jian Ru hadn't given much thought to being a benefactor. He had saved that person simply for the sake of his own conscience.

What Jian Ru had been worrying about was something else. The question he wanted to ask was too embarrassing to voice directly. After a pause, he rephrased it: "The clothes I’m wearing...?"

Sun Yushuang glanced at him and said, "I was the one who bathed you and changed your clothes."

Jian Ru felt relieved.

Just as he was about to express his thanks, Sun Yushuang stood up as if preparing to leave and said, "This medicine is for treating colds. Drink it."

Although Jian Ru did feel lightheaded and feverish, he was reluctant to owe any more favors—he already felt he couldn’t repay what had been done for him. He glanced at the medicine on the table, bowed slightly, and said, "I don’t have a cold, so I won’t trouble you further."

Somehow, his words seemed to offend the other. Sun Yushuang’s expression darkened, and he said mockingly, "The Li family is a medical family. Young Master Li Er personally diagnosed your pulse—do you doubt his judgment?"

Jian Ru was stunned. "It was him...?"

Jian Ru actually knew of Young Master Li Er’s family as well. The largest medical clinic in town belonged to them.

Young Master Li Er’s father was Squire Li’s younger brother. Though not as wealthy as Squire Li, their family was still comfortably well-off, renowned for their medical skills. They often held free medical services and were highly respected in the area.

Unfortunately, good people often don’t live long. Old Doctor Li fell ill two years ago while seeing patients and passed away not long after returning home to recuperate. Still, it was said that the Li children were all skilled physicians who had kept the clinic thriving.

Sun Yushuang let out a cold laugh. "Who would have thought a country lad like you would be so calculating and clever?"

"Don’t worry, the Li family are decent people," Sun Yushuang said, his gaze sharp as a needle, lingering on the half of Jian Ru’s face that was disfigured. He added, "No matter how unwilling Young Master Li Er might be, given that you saved his life, he’ll have to make things right with you."

Jian Ru was stunned, trying to understand what he meant. He could only watch as Sun Yushuang flipped his sleeve and turned to leave the room.