ITVCFITB CHAPTER 59

 Chapter 59 — The Amnesiac Man

When it came to finding the famed Poison-Curer, Luo Shuyu cared far more than Li Mingjin did. Li Mingjin had no idea Luo Shuyu already carried a rough image of the man in his head: someone who could “cure a hundred poisons” had to be a physician with decades of practice under his belt.

But Chen Rong’s senior brother looked too young. Even if he’d started studying herbs at three and treating patients at sixteen, that was barely a dozen years. How could he be the one?

The mismatch between the book in Luo Shuyu’s memory and the man before him left him unsettled. What now?

He asked Lin Yuan bluntly, “You’re truly the Poison-Curer?”

Lin Yuan was modest. “I never called myself that. It’s a name others gave me. I wouldn’t dare boast, only that I’ve seen more poison cases than most.”

Still foggy, Luo Shuyu glanced at Li Mingjin. They couldn’t decide trust on the spot. Better to watch, see what bond he truly had with Chen Rong, and gather background before opening up.

Li Mingjin kept it simple. “Doctor Lin, what brings you to me so suddenly?”

Lin Yuan stood to salute. “Your Highness, I know my junior is serving you. I came to tend to him and set his health in order.”

Li Mingjin looked at Chen Rong, who was suppressing a cough behind his sleeve. “I never asked, what illness is it?”

He repeated, frowning slightly, “Truly, what is it?”

Luo Shuyu signaled for hot tea. After a sip, Chen Rong hesitated, then slid a glance at Luo Shuyu. “When I was a child, something happened at home. I fell into freezing water in winter and never fully recovered. The doctor who treated me said I might not live past thirty.”

Luo Shuyu missed nothing, including that quick look. “What sort of ailment would end a life before thirty? Doctor Lin, as his senior, do you know his condition?”

“I haven’t taken his pulse in two years,” Lin Yuan replied. “Back then, with daily care, I believed he could live a long life.”

So this Poison-Curer didn’t match the story. Maybe that meant Chen Rong’s fate could change too. In the book, he truly hadn’t made it past thirty.

Why drag such a body all the way to Gucheng unless he genuinely meant to aid Li Mingjin or to reach his senior and fight for life? Luo Shuyu never quite understood how these brilliant strategists thought: did they cherish their lives or not? If a man loses his life, what do other people’s grand designs matter to him?

Gently, Luo Shuyu said, “Doctor Lin, why don’t you see Mr. Chen today? You must have heard he took ill. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come.” In a place as small as Gucheng, yesterday’s physician and today’s fever would already be common talk. Give it two days and the rumor might become: “The Third Prince hired a quack; the strategist caught a chill and died.”

Color warmed Lin Yuan’s face, though his tone stayed even. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

He helped Chen Rong back to his courtyard to begin treatment at once. The senior fretted over the junior; Luo Shuyu’s worry for Li Mingjin was no less.

With a rare quiet moment, Luo Shuyu turned to Li Mingjin. “If Lin Yuan really is the man we’re looking for, shouldn’t you let him see you first?”

“I’m fine,” Li Mingjin said.

“How could I not worry?” Luo Shuyu’s voice tightened. “Let’s treat it, whether it goes well or not, we still treat it. If it were another doctor I’d hesitate. But if Lin Yuan truly cares for Mr. Chen and his background checks out, let’s use him. I want a lifetime with you. I don’t want to relive what happened last time. When you had that attack, I was terrified. What if I’m not there next time?”

His eyes went a little red.

Li Mingjin pulled him close. “I know. I’ll listen to you. I’ll treat it.”

“You must stick with it,” Luo Shuyu said sternly. “No quitting halfway. I’m not joking and I won’t be placated.”

“I swear,” Li Mingjin said at once.

They held each other a while. Then Luo Shuyu smiled. “The study should be ready. Come see.”

They walked over as Li Mingjin outlined tomorrow. “I’ll meet all the local officials.”

New study, new desk, new layout.

They hadn’t brought many valuables; just enough to fill the display shelves.

Li Mingjin arranged his brushes just so, and Luo Shuyu asked, “Once the house is in order, I’d like to invite the officials’ wives for a small gathering.”

“No objection,” Li Mingjin said, “but won’t that tire you?”

“I walked for over a month to get here. A small party won’t kill me.”

“I’m not worried about the work, just the people. We don’t know their temperaments. It could be tedious to deal with.”

“Don’t underestimate me,” Luo Shuyu laughed. “And if I can’t handle it, I have you. I don’t plan to split civil and military wives. Let them all meet together, who is close to whom will show itself. You manage outside, I manage inside. Division of labor?”

“Exactly,” Li Mingjin said, pleased.

The hard-won northern posting was too valuable to waste. With a capable spouse, everything ran twice as smoothly.

They settled into their roles: Luo Shuyu ran the household, while Li Mingjin left early and returned late.

As expected, Lin Haiming quickly bonded with several northern officers. The Wei brothers remained polite—neither resisting nor fawning. Prefect Zhu, however, took the banquet as his cue to curry favor: food today, wine tomorrow, paintings the day after. Li Mingjin accepted everything but stayed cool, as if nothing stirred his interest. The man who’d smashed a cup the other night became the disinterested prince of the capital once more.

No one comes north and immediately overwhelms entrenched interests. This isn’t a storybook.

Had he asked, Luo Shuyu could have named someone who did exactly that, Shen Mingyun.

While confusing onlookers, Li Mingjin quietly gathered more intelligence than ever before. Each day the study filled with note-slips from the shadows, busy and blazing.

Everyone could see his friendship with Lin Haiming. Officers who wanted in tried courting Lin Haiming first. With Lin Haiming running his errands, Li Mingjin’s reputation stayed neither hot nor cold.

Half a month in, he finally visited the barracks.

Many had assumed he’d seize command the moment he arrived. Instead, he’d eaten, drunk, and toured the city’s oddities, perfunctory with officials. Even this trip to camp was on a whim after drinks with Lin Haiming.

Some concluded the cup-smash had been theater. They’d expected a prince who shouldered burdens; they got paper tiger.

Which was exactly what he wanted. If he strutted every day like on banquet night, men would put on a mask every time he appeared and he’d never see their real faces.

Snow bit. On the drilling ground, troops were still training hard. Li Mingjin’s arrival forced the officers to come greet him. General Ma, the one who’d “told truths” while drunk, hovered with a sheepish face, clearly fearing another punishment.

Li Mingjin didn’t even look his way. He asked the duty officer, “What’s today’s content?”

“Routine, Your Highness,” the man said. “Battle formations. We’re on the border; raiders love winter raids. We don’t dare slack a day.”

“Fine. Train,” Li Mingjin said lazily. “I’ll watch. I’ve nothing better to do.”

“It’s windy and bitter out here,” the officer urged. “Please sit in the tent, where it’s warm.”

“If you aren’t cold, why should I be? Go on.”

Seeing he wouldn’t budge, the officer left but not before cutting a look at General Ma: Take care of him.

Ma’s heart sank. He dragged over a chair. “Please, sit, Your Highness. I’ll block the wind.”

“Oh.” Li Mingjin sat. After a while: “Bored, isn’t it?”

“It isn’t, Your Highness,” Ma said earnestly. “Defending the realm is our duty.”

“Pretty words,” Li Mingjin murmured. Then to Lin Haiming: “This winter routine is dead dull. Let’s hold a tourney, top three places with prizes. I’ll sponsor. Watching bouts beats trudging around the city.”

Ma: “…” Making things up on the spot? “Your Highness, we should consult General Wei.”

Li Mingjin’s eyes cooled. “Which General Wei?”

“General Wei Linyuan, of course.”

“Mm. Go invite him, then. I’ll tell him myself.”

Ma faltered. “He may not be willing.”

Lin Haiming cut in, mild but pointed. “Just send for him. If he’s willing, he’ll come; if not, he won’t.” Then, when Li Mingjin looked away, he hissed, “If His Highness gets angry, you’ll pay for it.”

Remembering his still-sore backside, Ma dispatched a deputy at once.

Hearing the summons, Wei Linyuan, conveniently at camp, was surprised. A tournament?

“I’ll change and go,” he said.

His younger brother, Wei Linmu, followed into the tent. “What’s this about?”

“His Highness wants a tourney.”

“What for? We’re guarding against raids daily and he wants to play?” Linmu grumbled.

Linyuan clapped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t speak nonsense. Remember what Father told us before he left for the capital.”

“…I remember. But he—”

“Everyone has their way. Think, who benefits from a tournament?”

Linmu thought, then brightened. “I see. Go on. I won’t talk nonsense.”

“And don’t comment on the prince in public,” Linyuan warned. “Every word will be carried.”

Linmu paled. “Surely not? He just eats and drinks and—”

“Enough,” Linyuan snapped. “Re-examine what happened at the banquet.”

“…Got it. I’ll shut up.”

“That mouth will ruin us if you let it. Work more, talk less. Understood?”

“…Understood.”

Cleaned up, Linyuan went to meet the prince. He found Li Mingjin tapping the arm of his chair with a whip, gaze lowered toward the field, thoughts unreadable.

Linyuan bowed. “Your Highness.”

“No need for ceremony,” Li Mingjin said, lazy smile returning. “General Ma tells me I must consult you to host a tournament.”

Ma flushed. Linyuan didn’t blink. “I believe he meant: please instruct me how Your Highness wishes it held, and who qualifies.”

Tight as a drum.

“Then it’s yours,” Li Mingjin said. “Three days from now. Impress me and there are heavy rewards. Make my northern posting a little less dull.”

“May we participate too?” Ma blurted.

“Sign up,” Li Mingjin said. “It’s yours to run.”

“Great!”

“Good. Watching drills is dull. I’ll return in three days.”

He and Lin Haiming left after a leisurely turn around camp. Linyuan and Ma escorted them to the gate.

Only out of earshot did Li Mingjin ask, “How are our capital lads integrating?”

“Most are fine,” Lin Haiming said. “It’s the few playboys that are tough.”

“Find someone to grind them down. My unit won’t keep dead weight.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

---

While Li Mingjin’s track moved, Luo Shuyu’s gathering took shape.

Invitations went out two days ago; most wives accepted readily, curiosity running high.

But his attention was pulled by other news: an update on Shen Mingyun.

Just as Luo Renshou had said, Shen Mingyun had barely finished a short confinement after the miscarriage before heading south with Fourth Prince.

The road south was easier. Rich lands, good food, smoother paths. Comfortable travel makes people lax.

And with Shen Mingyun, trouble always finds them.

Three days out, they “just happened” to discover a handsome man collapsed by the roadside, covered in wounds. Shen Mingyun, with his “chivalrous heart,” rescued him and lodged him at that night’s inn.

The sensible thing would have been to hire a doctor, see him through recovery, and send him on his way.

But the world excels at absurdity.

A doctor came; the man woke. Unfortunately… he’d lost his memory.

He didn’t know who he was, where he was from, why he’d left home, or who had hurt him.

And in Shen Mingyun’s favorite kinds of romances, there’s a pattern: an amnesiac falls for the first person he sees upon waking.

Conveniently, the first pair of eyes he met belonged to Shen Mingyun.

Seeing the man recognize only him and being moved by such beauty, Shen Mingyun couldn’t bear to leave him to winter’s mercy and begged Fourth Prince to let the stranger travel south with them.

---

Author’s Note: 

Third Prince: “Wife, you’ve lost your memory. The first person you saw was me. Now we’re definitely getting on the kang. I’m sooo shy!”
Luo Shuyu: “…”

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