LUO FAN
— ✦ —
The next moment I opened my eyes, the warm rays of the sun streaming through the open window hit my face, forcing me to squint. The brightness was disorienting, and it took me a few seconds to blink away the grogginess. Judging by the light, it was already noon. I had overslept, and not by a little.
As my vision cleared, I realized I was lying in bed.
I turned my head slightly and froze.
There, sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed, was Ruan Yanjun. Or rather, Lan Feng, as he now believed himself to be. He leaned forward, his elbow resting on the edge of the bed, his chin propped on one hand. His dark eyes were locked onto me, quiet but watchful, like he had been sitting there for hours.
"Gege," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are you back?"
I blinked at him, confused. "I haven't gone anywhere," I replied, pushing myself upright. My body protested the movement, my muscles stiff from oversleeping. "Why did you put me in bed? This is your bed."
He straightened slightly, tilting his head as if the answer should have been obvious. "Because you were sleeping on the floor without a mattress."
The memory came back to me. I had collapsed on the floor after tending to him, too exhausted to bother with anything else. He must have woken up and found me there, thought it unacceptable, and moved me to the bed.
"How long have I slept?" I asked, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"You've been gone since yesterday morning," he said matter-of-factly. "I thought you weren't coming back anymore."
I stared at him, startled. "Yesterday morning?"
He nodded. "You slept the whole day yesterday. And half of today. You wouldn't wake up. You were gone."
The way he said gone carried a weight that made me pause. His expression, though calm, held an undertone of worry that was uncharacteristic of the man I once knew. My mouth opened slightly in surprise, but no words came out. I couldn't believe I had been unconscious for so long, and he hadn't been able to wake me. No wonder he thought I had left him.
I sighed, trying to push away the guilt creeping into my chest. "Well, I'm back now," I said with a faint smile. "So, what have you been eating?"
He shook his head, his expression blank. "Nothing."
I frowned and glanced toward the small table behind him. Two covered bowls sat untouched. "Aren't those food?"
"The neighbor gave them to me," he admitted, "but I didn't eat."
"Why not?"
He hesitated, then said simply, "I only eat what gege cooks."
His words caught me off guard, and a strange warmth filled my chest. I wouldn't admit it aloud, but I was flattered. There was an earnestness to this version of him, a quiet loyalty that made him far more tolerable than the calculating Ruan Yanjun I had known.
Still, I couldn't help but tease him. "What if I hadn't woken up? Were you planning to wait until you starved to death?"
He stared at me, his dark eyes unwavering. To my surprise—and slight alarm—he nodded.
"You really would have waited?" I asked, incredulous.
"Yes," he said simply, as if the answer required no further explanation.
I sighed again, this time with a mix of exasperation and amusement. Moving to the edge of the bed, I swung my legs over the side. "Let's see if we can heat it up," I said. "It's not good to waste food, you know."
Before I could stand, Lan Feng was already on his feet. He reached out, his hands steady and deliberate, and grasped mine to help me up.
For a brief moment, I froze. His touch was firm but gentle, and the gesture was unexpectedly courteous. It reminded me of something—those rare times when Ruan Yanjun had offered his hand to help me during moments of desperation.
As much as I hated to admit it, those gestures had always been genuine. Despite his flaws, Ruan Yanjun had shown a strange and fleeting kindness in those moments, a quality that seemed to have carried over to Lan Feng.
It was a realization that both unsettled and comforted me.
"Thank you," I said as I adjusted my stance, straightening the wrinkles off my clothes.
My gaze shifted to him, and I couldn't help but notice his open robe. His broad chest and defined abs were completely exposed, an unintentional show of strength that sharply contrasted with the innocence in his demeanor. It was almost amusing—a man built so strong and imposing, yet carrying the mind of a child.
Yes, a child.
Even if he claimed he was seventeen, his actions and words told me otherwise. Mentally, he seemed no older than Hong'er. Probably around ten.
It wasn't just memory loss. The injury had clearly affected his cognition.
"You should fix your clothes properly, even inside the house," I said, stepping closer. Without waiting for a reply, I reached out to pull his robe together, securing it neatly with the sash around his waist. "Even when you're sleeping, always make sure to cover yourself properly. It's important to maintain decency."
He glanced down at his now-secured robe, then up at me, his expression curious. "Gege, you don't move in your sleep. That's why your clothes still look nice."
I smiled at his observation. "I was trained from a young age to keep my clothes neat, even while sleeping. If I woke up with my robes in disarray, it would merit a punishment." The memory was distant but vivid—a part of my disciplined upbringing at Frost Mountain. "You should try it too."
"I do try," he said, his tone faintly defensive. "But my head aches a lot, so I keep tossing around."
The honesty in his voice made me smile. It was heartening to see him talking more, the faint traces of his pain now replaced by something lighter. "Wait here," I said, standing up. "I'll prepare the meal."
"Gege, I'll help," he offered, immediately following me toward the kitchen.
I paused to look back at him. "Are you sure you're well enough to be moving about?"
His answer came quickly, with a confidence that surprised me. "Gege has taken care of me so well, so I am well."
I chuckled softly at his sincerity. "Why don't you take a bath instead?" I suggested.
"Gege doesn't need my help?"
I shook my head. "I only need to reheat the food. Help isn't necessary."
His expression shifted into something akin to a child's disappointment—like he'd been promised a treat only to be gently denied.
"You can help me cook dinner later," I added, hoping to placate him.
His face immediately brightened, a small smile gracing his lips. "Alright."
I headed for the back door to fetch water for his bath. When I returned with a bucket, I found that he had already dragged the wooden tub to the center of the room and set it up.
Impressed by his initiative, I began filling the tub with water, making several trips outside until it was full. By the time I poured the fifth bucket, he nodded in satisfaction, clearly unbothered by the fact that the water was cold.
"And I have a surprise for you," I said with a slight grin, pulling a small pill from my pocket, the same kind I had given Hong'er and the other children in the village.
I dropped it into the water, and within moments, bubbles began to froth and rise, filling the tub with a light, fragrant foam.
He gasped audibly, leaning forward to scoop up a handful of bubbles. "Gege has magic!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with delight.
"It's not magic," I explained with a laugh. "The bubbles come from a plant that reacts to a certain ingredient. I found it in the woods. It's the same plant I used to gather when I was in Frost Mountain to make bath time more fun for the younger disciples."
But my explanation seemed lost on him. He was too engrossed in playing with the bubbles, his fingers swirling through the foam as a genuine, childlike wonder lit up his face.
I watched him for a moment, unable to suppress a smile. There was something deeply endearing about this version of him—so innocent, so carefree. A far cry from the cold, domineering man I once feared.
"You should be able to bathe on your own now," I said, pulling a folding screen across the room to give him privacy.
"Gege, you're not going to bathe me this time?" he asked, his voice tinged with disappointment.
"You're seventeen," I replied, adopting a playful sternness. "You're old enough to take care of yourself."
He didn't argue, though I heard the soft splash of water as he climbed in and began his bath.
Satisfied, I returned to the kitchen, where the bowls of food awaited reheating. As I stirred the contents over the small fire, I reflected on how much had changed in such a short time. This new Lan Feng was unlike Ruan Yanjun, and while I knew the man he had been still lingered somewhere deep inside, I found myself wishing, just for a moment, that this version of him would remain.
As I kindled the fire in the small kitchen, I heard a sudden gasp from behind the screen where Lan Feng was bathing. The sound was sharp, almost panicked, and it made my heart leap in alarm.
"Are you alright?" I called out, turning my head toward him.
"Gege!" he exclaimed, his voice a mix of shock and confusion. "What happened to my…" He trailed off, his tone growing more distressed. "This isn't how I remember it!"
I frowned, setting the firewood aside and walking cautiously toward the screen. "What do you mean?"
"Gege, look. It's swollen!"
I froze mid-step, suddenly unsure if I wanted to approach any closer. His voice was urgent, but the tone made me hesitate. I glanced at his silhouette through the screen—and realized exactly where his gaze was fixed. Downward. Between his legs.
Was he seriously talking about… that?
"Gege, hurry!" he urged, now sounding genuinely panicked. "I'm not kidding. This isn't mine!"
I closed my eyes and took a slow, steadying breath. For a brief moment, I'd been afraid something serious had happened to him. But now, it was clear he was having a personal crisis over his… anatomy.
In his mind, he was still a seventeen-year-old boy and likely unfamiliar with the full development of his adult body. Of course he'd be shocked by the change.
"Is this the first time you've noticed it?" I asked, doing my best to keep my voice neutral.
He nodded earnestly behind the screen.
I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. Until now, everything had been about stabilizing his health—his pain, his injuries, his recovery. But now that he was finally strong enough to notice his own body, it made sense that… questions would arise.
"Alright, listen," I said, returning to the fire. "That's your private part. Keep it to yourself. Don't show it to anyone."
"Even to Gege?"
"Yes. Even to me," I replied firmly, hoping that would end the conversation.
He sighed, sounding genuinely puzzled. "But I'm not making it up."
"I believe you," I said without turning around.
"You mean… you've already seen it?"
I paused, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "I bathed you before," I said carefully. "Of course I've seen it."
That much was true. While he was unconscious, I had tended to all his wounds. But that particular part of him had received only the most clinical attention, and certainly none of my interest.
"Is it normal to have something this big?" he asked again, this time his voice laced with uncertainty.
For a moment, I hesitated. What if he was right? What if there really was something abnormal, some kind of swelling or inflammation causing discomfort? As much as I wanted to dismiss the conversation entirely, I couldn't ignore the possibility that there might be a genuine medical concern.
I sighed, deciding to tread carefully. "Aside from the size, do you notice anything unusual? Any redness? Swelling that looks wrong?"
He went quiet, probably inspecting himself. After a few seconds, he answered, "No. Nothing like that."
I let out a relieved breath. "Then it's fine," I said. "You've grown, that's all. Naturally, that part of you has grown along with everything else."
"Gege, are you sure you don't want to take a look yourself?" he asked, still uncertain.
I shuddered inwardly. "I'm sure. There's no need for me to look unless you're in pain or something seems wrong."
"I don't feel pain," he admitted, though his voice still held a note of hesitation. "But… it wasn't like this earlier."
I raised an eyebrow, though he couldn't see me. "Earlier? Were you, perhaps… thinking about something naughty?"
He didn't answer right away, but the silence that followed said enough.
"Were you?" I repeated, a little more firmly.
"…I was," he finally admitted in a soft, embarrassed voice.
I sighed again, this time resisting the urge to laugh. His innocence was almost disarming.
"Well, that explains it," I said. "If you were having naughty thoughts, then that's the reason. Just stop thinking about those things and it'll go back to normal."
"Yes, Gege," he replied meekly.
"Good. Now finish your bath," I said, turning back to the stove.
"Yes, Gege," he echoed obediently.
As I stirred the pot, listening to the faint sound of splashing behind the screen, I couldn't help but smile to myself.
For all his innocence, his confusion, and that endless curiosity—Lan Feng was, somehow, remarkably obedient.
The cabin turned quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fire and the rhythmic splash of water from the next room.
The partition between the kitchen and the bathing area was little more than a few loosely fitted wooden logs, and I could hear every movement he made. Judging by the sound, Lan Feng wasn't so much bathing as he was playing.
I found myself smiling despite the absurdity of it all.
Seeing the once-imposing Ruan Yanjun reduced to this carefree state was surreal.
He, who had once loomed over everyone with an air of untouchable authority, who wielded his power like a blade—now sat in a bubble-filled tub, laughing and splashing like a child discovering water for the first time.
However, a part of me couldn't ignore the reality beneath the surface.
If he ever recovered his memories… if he ever realized the things he had done in this state—he wouldn't just kill me. He'd burn this entire village to the ground to erase the witnesses.
"Gege?" he called suddenly, his voice echoing through the partition.
I poked the firewood with a stick, pulling a few logs from the stove to lower the flame. "What is it?"
"Could you help me with my hair?" he asked, hesitation laced in his tone. "I'm afraid to touch my head. It feels like… like a piece of my skull might fall off."
I stiffened.
That was my mistake. I shouldn't have left him to bathe on his own—not with his skull still healing.
What if he had pressed too hard or reopened something without realizing?
Abandoning the fire, I hurried to the bath.
I pulled aside the screen and found him crouched in the wooden tub, his long body crammed awkwardly inside. Though the tub was large by most standards, it wasn't made for someone of his height. His knees stuck up over the rim, and every so often he shifted to keep his legs from cramping.
I knelt behind him, lowering to my haunches. His head tilted forward slightly, exposing the faint scar tracing the place where his skull had cracked.
Carefully, I reached for his hair, my fingers threading through the wet strands.
"Be still," I murmured, keeping my touch as light as possible.
It felt awkward, sitting this close to him—especially while he was entirely naked.
I focused on his hair, willing my gaze to stay upward. But when I caught sight of him scooping bubbles into his hands and blowing them into the air with gleeful abandon, the tension eased a little.
He wasn't Ruan Yanjun right now. Not the demon who had used me and betrayed me. Not the sect leader with blood on his hands.
In this moment, he was just a boy who needed someone to care for him.
"Gege," he said after a moment, breaking the silence, "are you not bathing?"
"No," I replied, working the soap gently through his scalp.
"You can bathe with me," he offered, shifting slightly to one side of the tub. He patted the water beside him, sending ripples across the surface. "See? There's space for you."
I cringed inwardly. "I'll… have a bath later," I said, trying to sound casual.
"You'll have to fetch more water," he pointed out helpfully.
"It's fine," I said quickly. "Besides, the water's already dirty. Did you at least wash your toes?"
"Thoroughly!" he said proudly, lifting one leg out of the water. His toes wiggled in the air, clean and shining.
I couldn't help but laugh.
"Good job," I said, though I didn't meet his eyes.
Seeing him like this—a grown man acting like a gleeful boy—was almost too much for my brain to process.
But he didn't seem to notice my discomfort. He lowered his leg back into the tub with a splash and a satisfied smile.
If Ruan Yanjun ever regained his memories, I thought grimly, he'd probably punish this version of himself out of sheer shame. And me? He wouldn't just resent me for seeing him like this—he might never forgive me for allowing it.
I sighed, both amused and resigned. At this rate, I really was becoming more of a mother than a caregiver.
As I worked the last of the soap from his hair, I glanced briefly at the water. Thankfully, I had filled the tub generously, and the bubbles and depth covered him up to his chest.
If the water had been any lower and I'd accidentally caught sight of what lay beneath, I might have died of sheer embarrassment.
"Alright, your hair's clean now," I said, rising and brushing the water from my hands. "Finish up on your own."
"Yes, Gege," he replied sweetly, still splashing softly as I pulled the screen back into place.
Returning to the kitchen, I stoked the fire and resumed heating our meal. Despite everything—despite the strangeness, the awkwardness—I found myself smiling again. There was an innocence to this version of Lan Feng that made it all too easy to forget who he had been.