Chapter 485: The Meaning of the Circle

“Great scholar, can you tell what I wrote?”

Li Shu’s question left Zhu Ping’an rather speechless. Looking down at the chaotic mess of circles she had drawn—circles so wildly scattered that they seemed to leap across the ground like an untamed horse galloping through the sky—he honestly had no idea how anyone could decipher meaning from them.

If he absolutely had to guess, the only thing that came to mind was the phrase “drawing a circle to curse you.” But there was no way a girl from the Ming dynasty would know such a modern joke.

“Didn’t you wake up properly?”

Zhu Ping’an stared at the random circles for a couple of seconds, then lifted his head and glanced at Li Shu, whose eyes seemed a little unfocused. That was the conclusion he offered.

“You’re the one who hasn’t woken up yet!” Li Shu retorted angrily, shooting him a dramatic eye-roll. “You can’t even understand this? What a blockhead!”

“Aren’t they just a bunch of circles…?” Zhu Ping’an murmured, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“What do you mean ‘just a bunch of circles’?” Li Shu puffed up indignantly, flashing her small tiger-like teeth at him. “It’s clearly because you’re too stupid to understand! And people call you a great scholar—if you ask me, they should just call you a piece of wood!”

“Then tell me what it is,” Zhu Ping’an replied with a faint smile. By now he had grown somewhat accustomed to Li Shu’s temperamental young-lady behavior.

“I… hmph…”

A faint blush crept across Li Shu’s delicate cheeks. She gave an exaggerated huff, turned her head away, and refused to look at him.

“I’m not telling you!”

Such a typical young lady’s temper…

Zhu Ping’an tugged slightly at the corner of his mouth, then shifted his gaze toward the distant sea. All the books and manuscripts he had carried with him had been lost to the ocean during the ordeal. Fortunately, his memory was excellent—most of the contents of those books were already stored firmly in his mind, so it wasn’t truly a devastating loss.

Still, he couldn’t help wondering how long they would remain stranded on this island.

After practicing calligraphy for a while longer, Zhu Ping’an stopped. Judging by the sun’s position, it was already around three in the afternoon. Before sunset, they needed to gather more firewood and food.

Originally, Zhu Ping’an planned to go out alone and leave Li Shu in the cave to watch over the sleeping bun-faced maid. However, Li Shu complained that staying in the cave was boring and insisted on coming along. After a moment’s thought, Zhu Ping’an agreed.

Before leaving, he added several pieces of firewood to the hearth and strengthened the flames. With a strong fire burning, even if wild animals roamed the mountains, they would likely hesitate to enter the cave.

Then Zhu Ping’an led Li Shu outside.

They first collected bundles of somewhat damp firewood nearby. A strong fire could burn even slightly wet wood, so it wasn’t a problem. Using creeping vines, they tied the wood into bundles—Zhu Ping’an carried a large one, while Li Shu managed a smaller bundle.

Together, they brought the firewood back to the cave.

The bun-faced maid was still fast asleep. Before leaving again, Zhu Ping’an added more wood to the fire.

If not for the fact that they had nearly lost their lives and were stranded on a deserted island, this place would actually be quite pleasant. The island was rich in natural resources, the scenery was beautiful, and the air was so fresh it almost made one feel intoxicated.

Down at the foot of the hill, Zhu Ping’an and Li Shu gathered a great variety of wild fruits—wild plums, wild strawberries, wild apples, and more. They also found several fist-sized melons. Birds had pecked at their skins, which was usually a good sign that the fruit was safe to eat.

Near a small pool where the creek widened, Zhu Ping’an even managed to catch several crucian carp about the size of his palm. He threaded a twig through their gills and carried them back.

However, before the two of them even reached the cave entrance, they suddenly heard a loud wailing coming from inside.

It was the bun-faced maid.

She was crying uncontrollably—loud, choking sobs, as if she had been abandoned by the entire world. Her crying came in gasping bursts, as though she might lose her breath at any moment.

What happened?

Zhu Ping’an and Li Shu quickly hurried into the cave. There they saw the bun-faced maid sitting upright with her hair in complete disarray, her face smeared with tears and snot.

“Waaah… Miss! Young Master! Waaah… I thought you left me behind because I was just a burden… I thought you didn’t want me anymore…!”

The moment she saw them, the maid’s despair turned into overwhelming relief. Still sniffling and crying, she rushed forward as if to throw herself into Li Shu’s arms.

Li Shu glanced at the tear-and-snot-covered face rushing toward her and immediately recoiled in disgust. Raising her slender hand, she flicked the maid sharply on the forehead with practiced precision.

Thunk.

The maid clutched her forehead where it stung slightly—but instead of feeling upset, she closed her eyes with a blissful expression, as though she had just received some kind of reward. Her tears instantly turned into laughter.

Who said we didn’t want you…

This girl really does imagine the worst.

Zhu Ping’an smiled faintly and set down the items he had brought back.

By evening, the wind outside had picked up. A fierce howling sound echoed past the cave entrance.

All three of them felt immensely grateful that they had discovered this cave. If they had been outside tonight, the cold wind alone would have been enough to make them miserable.

The small cave shielded them from the chilling gusts.

The three of them sat around the fire pit. Each held a thick willow branch with a crucian carp skewered on the end, roasting slowly over the flames. Nearby, on a bed of loquat leaves, lay the washed wild fruits they had gathered earlier.

Among the three of them, Li Shu clearly had the best cooking skills.

Whenever a fish passed through her hands, it came out roasted perfectly—crispy skin, tender meat. She even had the clever idea of squeezing juice from wild fruits and brushing it over the roasting fish. With that addition, the color and aroma of the fish became even more irresistible.

Looking at the beautifully roasted fish in Li Shu’s hands, Zhu Ping’an suddenly felt that the fish he had grilled—charred in places and slightly blackened—was almost too embarrassing to eat.

“I’m not sure if it’s cooked yet. Zhu Ping’an, help me taste it.”

Li Shu held out the fragrant fish with its crisp golden skin. Her cheeks were lightly flushed, and her bright eyes glanced sideways at him as she pretended uncertainty.

Just what I was hoping for.

Zhu Ping’an didn’t hesitate at all. He immediately accepted the fish with a cheerful “Sure,” blew lightly on it, and took a bite.

The skin was crisp, the flesh delicate and juicy—fragrant without a hint of fishiness, leaving a long, pleasant aftertaste.

“Cooked,” Zhu Ping’an declared after savoring it for a moment. Reluctantly, he handed the fish back to her.

“It’s already got your saliva on it.” Li Shu glanced at it with exaggerated disgust and shook her head. “Gross. You eat it all. As long as it’s cooked, that’s good—I’ll know how long to roast the next one.”

That suited Zhu Ping’an perfectly.

He pulled the fish back happily and began eating it with great satisfaction.

Next, Li Shu repeated the same method and roasted the largest fish. Everything about it was done perfectly—the heat was just right, the fruit juice glaze even more generous than before. The aroma was richer, the color more tempting.

Only one tiny spot—no bigger than a fingernail—had been accidentally burned slightly black.

Li Shu immediately made a face of distaste and handed that fish to Zhu Ping’an as well.

Only with the third fish did Li Shu finally roast one that satisfied her completely.

As night deepened, the wind outside grew even stronger.

Inside the cave, however, the three of them sat comfortably around the fire pit, full and warm. The cave seemed even more wonderful now.

After dinner, Zhu Ping’an told them a few stories. Eventually, Li Shu and the bun-faced maid washed up briefly and returned behind their curtain of vines to rest on their grass bed.

Since they were still unfamiliar with the island, Zhu Ping’an didn’t go to sleep immediately. Instead, he stayed awake to keep watch while copying texts from memory beside the fire.

Outside the cave, aside from the whistling wind, there were occasionally the cries of unknown animals. Fortunately, none of them sounded particularly dangerous, which reassured him somewhat.

Near midnight, Zhu Ping’an added more firewood to the hearth and narrowed the wind opening to keep the flames steady. Just as he prepared to lie down on his grass bed—

“Zh… Zhu Ping’an… I need to… um… go change my clothes. C-could you come with me? Hua’er is asleep and won’t wake up no matter how I call her.”

Li Shu had quietly risen from the girls’ bedding area. Her face was flushed red as she approached him shyly, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

In truth, she needed to relieve herself.

But she was too frightened to go outside alone. The maid was sleeping like a rock and wouldn’t wake up. Outside it was pitch-black, the wind howled like ghosts, and strange animal sounds echoed from time to time—it was simply too terrifying.

And as for doing it inside the cave… how could a proper young lady possibly bring herself to do such a thing?

With no other choice, she had to ask Zhu Ping’an for help.

“Uh…”

Zhu Ping’an wasn’t entirely sure he had heard correctly.

“Will you or won’t you?” Li Shu urged anxiously, her cheeks burning red. When he glanced at her, she instinctively pressed her legs together as if she might not be able to hold it much longer.

“Of course,” Zhu Ping’an said, nodding.

Soon the two of them stepped outside the cave. They didn’t go far—just a few meters away from the entrance. Any farther than that and Li Shu refused to move.

“You… you just stand there,” she said awkwardly. “Turn around. Close your eyes.”

Zhu Ping’an obeyed.

“And… you also have to cover your ears,” Li Shu added quickly after he turned around.

“Why?” Zhu Ping’an asked, puzzled. Turning around he could understand—but covering his ears too? What was that for?

“You… you’ll hear…”

Li Shu stamped her foot lightly. Her face was so red it looked as though it might drip blood.

“Alright.”

Zhu Ping’an turned back around again, closed his eyes, and obediently covered his ears with both hands.

Rustle… rustle…

Soft, indistinct sounds followed.

About a minute later, Li Shu turned her head and saw that Zhu Ping’an was still standing there exactly as before—back turned, eyes closed, ears covered.

She rolled her eyes.

What a fool!

After quickly straightening her clothes, she picked up a branch and wrote a few tiny characters beside the circles she had drawn earlier at noon. The characters were so small they were almost invisible—delicate as the tracks of a fly:

“Circle Poem”

My longing wishes to travel afar, yet finds no messenger,
So I draw circles in its place.

Words remain outside the circles,
But my heart rests within them.

A single circle is me,
A double circle is you.
You hold me within your heart,
And I hold you within mine.

The moon wanes, then becomes full,
The full moon wanes again.

A perfect circle means reunion,
A half-circle means farewell.

　　I draw circle upon circle in secret,
　　And hope you will quietly understand my heart.

　　There are endless feelings of longing,
　　So I draw circles all the way to the end.

　　Having finished writing, Li Shu quietly put the branch down.

　　Behind her, Zhu Ping’an still stood faithfully in the same position—eyes closed, ears covered—completely unaware of the silent confession that had just been left behind in the dust.