On this night, the northern wind howled.

The bridal chamber was filled with overwhelming red—startling red, scorching red—but there was not a trace of joy in it.

“Luo Yi.” A soft voice, as thin as a thread.

“Hmm?” The maid who was counting the dowry items responded softly.

“How many years have you been with me?” An apparently casual question.

“I entered the mansion at the age of eight and have been following Miss ever since.” Luo Yi closed the camphor wood box and tilted her head slightly. “Counting it up, it's already been thirteen years.”

“Thirteen years.” A sigh full of emotion. “Do you know when I was happiest during these years?”

Luo Yi's slender figure paused for a moment, then she looked towards the desk.

The flickering candlelight illuminated that flawless snow-like face, which in the dark night appeared eerily pale, like the ghost shunned by the family eight years ago. Because just a few days earlier, that beauty dyed by the misty rain of Jiangdong had withered like a flower in an instant.

“It was...” Luo Yi hesitated painfully, then answered subtly, “the second year after Madam passed away.”

Silence filled the room; the candle flames trembled even more, the shadows on the ground broke and shattered. Luo Yi slightly knitted her brows and looked again, only to see a thin sheet of paper covering the wedding candles. The faint yellow light made the paper somewhat translucent, and one could vaguely see the strong silver hook-like characters on it.

“Miss!”

Orange flames spread from the edge of the paper, consuming the ink marks bit by bit. Those almond eyes reflected the light, shining with trembling pain.

Burn it, burn it, let everything be consumed tonight.

The flames spread like floodwaters, the light yellow rice paper twisted and curled, turning into jet-black ashes, swirling in the cold winter night, melting into Dong Huiru's glossy black hair.

The reflection in her beautiful eyes was despair, but also attachment.

One by one, pages of the once cherished “Flowing Light Collection” were mercilessly torn off, becoming offerings to the fire god, floating and scattering on the icy floor.

“Mi... ss...” Luo Yi muttered, heartbrokenly watching that flushed face heated by the firelight.

For a moment, she felt dazed, as if what lay between them was not the darkness, but the vast boundary separating the human and ghost realms.

Tsk tsk, childish words bring good fortune.

Luo Yi shook her head continuously, refocused her eyes, but once again saw a terrifying illusion. The beauty was almost transparent in her pallor; the curve of her lips was startlingly slight, her entire being seeming to blend into the pitch-black night shadow, about to scatter with the wind.

“Miss!” Luo Yi tried to dispel the terrifying illusion with her shout, filling the empty night scene.

“Hmm?” Dong Huiru responded absentmindedly, taking out the male handkerchief from her bosom. Her fair fingertips kept rubbing it, reluctance clouding her brows.

Luo Yi averted her eyes, biting her lip to encourage: “Burn it, Miss.”

The almond eyes instantly dimmed, and Dong Huiru raised her jade wrist, moving very slowly.

The light smoke yellowed the corner of the handkerchief, the flames dancing enchantingly.

...

A tinge of orange stained the horizon, and the faint morning light quietly spilled over, making the hanging icicles under the eaves sparkle with a hint of pale brightness.

“On the eighth day of the twelfth month of Tianzhong, the east bathes in the first glow.”

A man's voice as clear as snow broke through the thin morning mist, drifting outside the Left Chancellor's mansion adorned with pervasive red.

“The mother smiles warmly, good old women paste flower buds.”

The matchmakers laughed and gathered in clusters, peeping through the door crack.

“The one urging the bride to dress must be him.”

“Tsk, doesn't look like it, where is the rumored flower-like beauty?”

“The one reciting poetry is the Vice Minister Feng taken by force by the Marquis?”

“Leading the bride down from the phoenix platform, hand in hand to share the world.”

After listening for a while, one couldn’t help but feel that this voice was gentle amidst clarity, like the shallow, free-flowing mountain spring of early spring, making one slightly intoxicated.

One has to admit, it was this thread of softness that softened the hardness and arrogance in the urging-to-dress poem, making it slightly bearable. Luo Yi mused, turning her gaze to the bride beside her. But why does the elaborate and bright red wedding gown exude not joy but a heart-wrenching sadness?

“May I ask if the makeup is done? Early entry into the imperial family.”

As soon as this line fell, Luo Yi heard a faint yet resolute snort, and she could almost imagine the scornful curve of those two red lips beneath the veil.

“The auspicious time has arrived, respectfully send the young miss off to marry!”

A chorus sounded, and the red doors slowly opened.

“Huiru.” The Left Chancellor’s wife, with swollen red eyes, reluctantly held onto the new bride. “Remember, the person marrying is not Dong Huiru, but the third daughter of the Dong family.” She whispered lowly, not like a whisper but more like a warning, chilling Luo Yi, who was accompanying the dowry.

Second Madam, how can you make the young miss endure such feelings, endure such feelings!

However, the young miss has long become numb to such cold-hearted and utilitarian family ties, so let me grieve on behalf of the young miss.

Luo Yi lowered her head to hide the sorrow in her eyes and supported the slim figure fading in green. Her fingers, slightly calloused, lightly touched the no longer smooth palm, causing her heart to tremble continuously.

The young miss still can't forget, willing to sacrifice herself to extinguish the open flame on the handkerchief. Even deeply wounded by love, she remains unforgettable.

Step over the high gate, grains and beans fall like rain.

Step twice to bid farewell to parents, no longer a daughter of the Dong family.

Behind her, Second Madam cried like a performance, sounding real. However, it was only sound.

Her crimson lips curled into a cold smile, and Huiru left without any hesitation.

Under the red veil, all she could see was a narrow world before her eyes, narrow enough to see only fluttering hems and a dim morning glow.

A pair of festive boots kicked up dust, arrogantly rushing into view.

“Snap!” A whip cracked before her feet.

Under the lash's dominance, submission to the husband, this is the wedding ceremony.

She bowed deeply: “Your servant acknowledges your teaching.”

A hoarse response made people think it was due to crying during the wedding procession; even if misunderstood, what did it matter?

She cried from her heart, not her eyes; she was silent in affection, not in voice. No one understood, but what did it matter?

She wanted to leave the Dong family, but she didn’t want to marry into the Marquis's household. With nowhere to go in this vast world, what did it matter?

It didn’t matter; she didn’t care, not one bit.

She coldly watched her so-called husband turn and leave, coldly observing another pair of slightly more delicate winter boots coming into view.

It must be the ceremonial official holding the goose; she averted her eyes, stepping her golden lotus embroidered shoes onto the festive stool.

“When the strings are plucked softly, complex sounds arise.”

An extremely pleasant low chant made her momentarily confused, was it a new tune of advice for marriage?

At the moment she leaned into the carriage, a clear voice drifted.

“Affinity arises, life begins; affinity ends, life ceases.”

A slightly sighed recitation like heavenly Buddhist music seeped into the ears, but failed to enter her heart.

When the strings are plucked softly, complex sounds arise?

She would rather have the quiet strings than admire the complex sounds.

Affinity arises, life begins; affinity ends, life ceases?

She once thought of severing her feelings, but, but...

She flipped her palm, gazing at the burned skin, her long-dried eyes once again welled up with mist.

But she couldn’t forget…

The ornate carriage moved slowly, carrying both honor and return.

Everyone said she had married well, but no one understood that this was not what she wanted.

Her familial affection had died the year her mother passed away, and her secret love had also turned to nothing just days ago.

She tremulously took out the remaining piece of the torn handkerchief, her heart aching as if cut by a knife.

But even though she was all alone, even though her heart was heavy with sorrow, she would never drift along with the tide or let others manipulate her.

A resolute glint flashed in her beautiful eyes as she decisively pulled out a golden hairpin.

Better to be a lonely spirit beneath the bamboo than to yearn for the lush leaves of the forest.

Feeling the warm blood gush from her wrist, she contentedly curved her red lips. So her blood was warm after all.

Hmm, it was indeed warm, perhaps because of the person residing in her heart.

She looked at the torn handkerchief in her hand, her eyes filled with tenderness.

They say that when souls cross the Bridge of Forgetfulness, they sever ties; with each step, they forget a piece of their worldly affections. Yuanzhong, Huiru may sever past connections, but she will never forget you, for this love has entered her soul and can no longer fade.

They say that those who lightly discard their lives pass through the ghost gate, locked into the City of Wrongful Deaths in the Sixth Hall until their allotted lifespan is over before re-entering the cycle of reincarnation. Yuanzhong, do you know that Huiru would rather endure decades of punishment than drink Meng Po’s soup and have you forcibly removed from her soul?

Accompanied by deafening joyous music, the hot liquid flowed, and the waning vitality blurred her vision. Her sense of touch gradually faded, but with sheer willpower, she clenched her right fist tightly, holding the torn handkerchief between her fingers.

Ding ding...

Whose bell was that?

“Is anyone here, Dong Huiru?”

She couldn't see clearly; everything was foggy.

“Born in the third quarter of the Hai hour on the Ding You day of the Ugly month in the sixth year of Tianzhong, deceased at the beginning of the Chen hour on the eighth day of the twelfth month in the twenty-third year of Tianzhong, Dong Huiru?”

So it was the ghost officials come to collect her soul. She revealed a satisfied smile: “That's me.”

“Let's go.”

She couldn't part the thick fog but felt a sharp pain in her chest.

It was the Soul Chain. So she was already dead. Good, very good.

“Alas!” A distant sigh echoed ahead. “For thousands of years, people have been reborn, sacrificing their lives for love in every life, yet in that life, their souls were wounded and spirits shattered...”

She was slightly stunned. Who was he talking about?

“Do you know that the most injured person is the Phantom Sea Dragon King, not you, Nan Zhi.”

Nan Zhi, hard to weave, old dreams hard to weave. It turns out the most painful was the first life.

“Alas, the Dragon King has experienced another piercing pain. The sky above will change...”

The sky changes...

Just moments ago, the winter sun was warm, but now it was covered by dark clouds.

Ding ding...

What was this?

The ethereal sound of bells pierced through the jubilant wedding music, faintly lingering in my ears.

Ding ding...

The wind blew, carrying away the soft southern tunes.

Each note awakened dormant memories, like the guiding bells of ghosts.

Restless, I sat on my horse, staring blankly at the bent goose feather in my hand.

On the eighth day of the twelfth month, two beauties were being wed. Playing the flute to attract phoenixes, a lifetime of glory.

Vivid red makeup adorned the long streets, and eager crowds gathered to catch a glimpse of the beauties.

What great glory, yet there was an underlying ominous vibe.

Today, I accompanied Marquis Lie to welcome the new bride. Step by step, urging the bride with the ritual goose. The Left Chancellor's mansion was festooned with red lanterns, and the whole family celebrated extravagantly. However, the bride Dong did not show any signs of happiness.

No, more accurately, she showed no sign of life.

In the moment she stepped into the carriage, I couldn't help but blurt out, using the transmission technique to send her those enigmatic words, hoping she could open her heart.

But I knew all this was just my own beautiful yet unrealistic wish. In fact, as early as when I witnessed her resisting the advances of the twelfth prince with death, as early as the night I personally heard her abandon her reserve and pour out her heart, I understood the character and capacity of Lady Huiru of the Dong family.

Thinking of this, I anxiously looked ahead at the jewel-topped, sparrow-eaved treasure carriage, silently praying.

Hopefully, I am wrong, mistaken, and misguided.

Hopefully, hopefully.

Suddenly, a mournful roar sounded, like a dragon's cry descending from a thousand miles down to the ninth heaven. The fierce wind roared maliciously, and the bridal canopy swayed wildly.

I shielded my face and squinted. The sleeves of the robe, adorned with blessing clouds, fluttered in the wind, and the red tassels hanging from the sideburns danced like bewitching snakes, obscuring the way forward.

For a moment, neither man nor horse could move. Sand and stones flew in the streets, and the common people nearly fell over against the wind.

“It's snowing!”

I looked up upon hearing the shout. The dense snowflakes swirled and fell heavily, mercilessly swept down by the unruly wind, concealing the sky like mist. The joyful music was drowned by the ominous snowstorm, dissipating weakly, unable to reach far.

The wedding procession seemed to speed up, and the noisy crowd was quickly left behind.

Untangling the knotted red tassels in front of me, smoothing out the unrumpled robe, I focused and stood tall on my horse. Somehow, the sense of unease grew thicker, like the snowflakes filling the sky, like the crimson stains on the ground.

What? Crimson?

I leaned forward and stared, shocked to see crimson blossoms blooming every few meters on the ground, one spot, two spots, three spots…

Tracing back, I finally found the “source.”

“Stop the carriage!” I shouted urgently and spurred my horse forward.

The joyful music, like an aged tape, twisted a few notes and then returned to its annoying tune.

Damn it, pretending ignorance?

“Stop the carriage!” I yelled again, my voice deep from the dantian, halting my horse in front of the ornate carriage.

“Feng, Shaochu.” The red-clad groom's face twisted in anger, his eagle eyes burning fiercely, “What do you want to do!”

Ignoring the third prince’s rage, I listened intently. Sure enough, there wasn’t a single breath inside the carriage. Without hesitation, I dismounted and, amid gasps, lifted the curtain.

Red, dazzling red everywhere, shocking scarlet, blood-soaked red...

A whistling sound came from behind me. I used my qi to deflect the heavy whip and swiftly leapt into the carriage, pressing down her bony white wrist.

Where was the pulse? Where was the pulse?

Looking at those unfocused almond eyes, looking at those bloody, smiling red lips, I was speechless.

“How dare you, Feng Shaochu!” A large hand tore open the curtain, revealing the third prince's furious long face. “What do you intend...” His scolding stopped abruptly, the fierceness in his eyes turning to nothingness. He looked at me in astonishment, full of confusion. After a moment, he shifted his body to block the gap in the curtain and closed his eyes, shouting loudly, “Stop the carriage and rest!”

The third prince disdainfully glanced inside the carriage, veins bulging on his forehead: “How is it?”

I tightened my fists and sighed softly: “No pulse at all.”

He clenched his jaw, his face turning greenish-blue, his breathing growing rougher: “How did you find out?”

“I was following with the ritual geese and saw the bloodstains on the ground.”

Alas, such suspicion.

“Bloodstains?” This voice was slightly tense. The third prince muttered curses under his breath, “Damn, damn.”

After a while, he suddenly leaned forward and asked, “Ru'er, are you sure?”

Which play is this? I stared at him with my mouth agape.

“Alas, although it's said that a married daughter is like water spilt out, you need not...” The words seemed to be whispered, yet they resounded throughout the fields. “Never mind, never mind, this Marquis will grant your wish. Qibao!”

“My Lord.” A low response came from outside the carriage; by the sound, it was an eunuch.

“Did you hear what the Marchioness said?” The third prince glanced to his side, his eyes full of severity.

“I heard it...” The voice was very faint.

“Well, why haven't you gone yet? Send someone to pour water behind the carriage!”

“Yes!”

The footsteps hurried away, growing distant.

“Miss.” A concerned female voice sounded outside the curtain, “My Lord, our Miss...”

The third prince cast a stern glance, and after a moment, his thin lips rose in an eerie smile: “And you are?”

“I am the maid accompanying the Marchioness.”

“Oh, are you worried about your Miss?” He asked kindly.

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you go inside and check on her then?” The third prince coaxed softly.

“Thank you, my Lord.” The female voice trembled slightly, “Miss.”

A slender figure flashed inside—it was the maid who had accompanied Dong Huiru that day.

“Li...” Before the cry could escape, she was gagged from behind by the third prince.

He hoisted the maid over his shoulder and glared fiercely at me: “Get out!”

As I got off the carriage, I suddenly heard a cold laugh from behind: “Minister Feng, you are a smart man. You should know what to do and say without me teaching you, right?”

I lowered my gaze and answered flatly: “Yunqing understands.”

The sticky substance in my palm dried instantly upon contact with the wind, leaving a gritty sensation on my skin.

I mounted my horse and gazed up at the dense snow-filled sky.

Is this your husband? Is this your virtuous man, Miss Dong? You have left so well, so cleanly.

The heavy snow fell thickly in my heart...

...

“One bow to heaven and earth, Tianzhong treasures.” I recited steadily.

The bride before me had a fuller figure, unlike Dong Huiru’s slimness.

“Two bows to ancestors, may heaven bless our king.”

The hall was filled with distinguished guests—wealthy merchants, civil officials, and military generals. No one noticed the switch, no one realized this was the bride-to-be. After all, the Left Chancellor’s daughter was raised in seclusion; even though her beauty was renowned, outsiders mostly saw through a fog, unable to discern the anomaly.

I clenched my fists and looked down, staring at the circle of dark red on her sleeve cuffs, and uttered the final phrase: “Couple bow to each other, affection lasting long.”

The ceremony completed, everyone celebrated.

“Minister Feng.” As I passed the groom, I met his fierce eagle-like eyes. “Do not disappoint this Marquis.”

I curled my bloodied fingers, hiding them in my sleeves and responded humbly: “Congratulations on your marriage, my lord. Yunqing shall do his best.”

The newlywed bride, taking slow steps, was clearly exhausted. The third prince subtly supported her delicate waist, seemingly affectionate but actually tightening his grip step by step.

What exactly did the third prince say inside the carriage? Was it a threat against her family’s lives or coercion using her mistress's still-warm body?

After all, dealing with such an inexperienced young woman was too easy, too easy.

“Minister Feng!” A loud shout forcefully pulled me out of my mourning.

“Lou Jing.” I looked up. “Why are you here? Are you feeling better?”

“Hehe.” He scratched his head innocently. “Thank you for the medicine you sent. He Meng’s thick skin has healed completely.” He raised his ape-like arm and pulled someone out from behind him. “Brother Maocai also wants to thank you personally.”

Maocai? I looked at the visitor in surprise—it was Lu Wen, the editor of the Academy of Documents who led the impeachment in the court.

I lifted the corners of my lips slightly and spoke slowly: “Editor Lu, how is your health?”

His bruised eyes twitched slightly, his expression somewhat odd. After a while, he scolded sharply: “A grown man, laughing like what!”

“Huh?” I raised my eyebrows, inadvertently smiling. “Editor Lu, what are you talking about so randomly?”

He quickly averted his gaze, his face slightly red: “No wonder people say that about you.”

“Say what about me?” I turned to ask He Meng, who avoided my gaze, looking extremely uncomfortable.

“What do they say?” Lu Wen’s tone rose slightly as he glared fiercely. “They say you are more charming than flowers, with peculiar preferences. What does that mean, what does that mean? Now you should understand.”

I didn’t understand and stood there dumbfounded.

“Brother Maocai!” He Meng waved his sleeve, blocking me. “How can you believe those rumors!” He turned his massive frame, his heavy palm slapping my shoulder. “Minister is a man of steel. He Meng believes in you!”

“Ah.” I bit my lip to stop the trembling in my legs, responding feebly: “Thank you, thank you.” Brother White Rabbit, you’re still so innocent.

He suddenly changed the topic: “Even if we take ten thousand steps back...”

What steps? I looked up at He Meng, whose eyes were full of pity.

“Even if that!” Brother White Rabbit sniffed, looking up at the rafters. “Even if that, He Meng will never look down on Minister.” He slowly lowered his gaze, his eyes brimming with tears. “Minister endures humiliation and sacrifices for the country, truly a great man!”

Wait, what sacrifice?

“Even so, Minister must be mindful of the impact.”

Huh? I turned my head to look at Lu Wen, whose face was cold and grim. What? What does this mean?

“After the heavenly fire, the winds of the court have changed. As the leader of us commoners, please take care to maintain your integrity.”

“Leader?” I furrowed my brows. “When did I become the leader of the commoners?”

“Hmph, does Minister still want to stay aloof?” Lu Maocai glanced at me disdainfully. “Among the commoners, you hold the highest rank now, so naturally, you are the leader.”

I smirked coldly, looking sideways: “Editor Lu, I have always been carefree. I will never委屈 myself for the sake of a superficial title.”

Lu Wen’s face showed slight anger, his lips trembling in indignation: “You...”

“The sages have said, within books lie golden houses, within books lie beauties like jade. If so, why bother with self-restraint?” I waved my wide sleeves and moved forward gracefully. “Having entered this quagmire, don’t be afraid of dirtying your feet. Lu Maocai, you must see clearly.”

Cold and pure? Yun, your claws aren't sharp enough yet. This is why you watch them endure humiliation without offering help. Without breaking this proud bone, how can you overthrow those cunning officials? How can you rely on them to control the Divine Kun?

Full of impractical thoughts, in the end, there is only one outcome. Just like today's Lady Dong, though she kept her purity and went to the netherworld, she left troubles in the mortal world.

I tightened my grip on the goose feather in my hand and glanced behind me. Sure enough, trouble followed closely.

“Minister Feng.” A familiar call warmed my heart.

“General Han.” I smiled sincerely. “Isn’t the general training troops in the capital camp? Why...” Overjoyed, I couldn’t help but want to grab his hand and talk leisurely.

“Today is La Ba.” His deep eyes radiated warmth, and he smiled handsomely. “If Minister Feng doesn’t mind, after the wedding banquet, please honor us by coming to my house for a bowl of La Ba porridge.” He bent down and whispered, “Your sister-in-law misses you.”

I teasingly looked up at him—perhaps Brother misses me. Sure enough, his handsome face turned slightly red. Alas, I always say that no one is perfect; this man who appears godlike on the battlefield is awkward in expressing emotions in private and very easily embarrassed. Could this be considered one of Yundu's biggest secrets? I secretly chuckled.

He cleared his throat and put on a serious expression: “Hmm, that's all for now.”

“General Han.” I glanced behind me, my heart again clouded with coldness.

“Hmm?”

“This humble official has an appointment.” I bowed respectfully and signaled to him with my eyes.

Brother’s deep eyes tightened slightly, and he glanced at my back before his face froze over instantly: “Hmph! Truly ungrateful!” He pretended to be angry, flicked his sleeve, and strode away.

The third prince’s henchmen are watching so closely; how could I drag Brother into this situation now? I can only pretend to be strangers, deeply sighing.

“Minister Feng...”

A suppressed whisper reached my ears. I looked around the bustling wedding hall, full of guests exchanging greetings and bows, and saw no one looking at me—it must have been a mistake.

“Minister Feng...”

Another call came from the left. I turned my head and saw the eunuch named Qibao hiding behind the door, secretly waving at me.

Slightly suspicious, I walked over: “What is it?”

“The ceremonial objects in the bridal chamber were messed up by the maids. The prince wants you to take a look.”

“Ceremonial objects?” I frowned and looked at him. Qibao kept his head down, making it impossible to see his expression.

“Yes.” He raised his head, looking helpless. “Please hurry, Minister. Missing the auspicious time would not be good.” Without waiting for my response, he went straight ahead. “Minister?”

I stood still, quietly watching him.

Qibao felt somewhat embarrassed under my gaze. His eyelashes fluttered, and he turned around and grabbed my sleeve: “Minister, forgive my impertinence.”

Is it really this urgent? I let him pull me along, walking quickly through the long corridors.

The silent northern wind, the gloomy black clouds, and the powder-like winter snow drifted with the wind. It was as if a mysterious mist had risen in the corridor, so deep and thick that it obscured the way forward.

Something's wrong, very wrong.

Snowflakes occasionally slipped into my collar, melting into cold water sliding down my neck.

Too quiet, too quiet around, not like the road leading to the bridal chamber.

I stopped my steps and waved my sleeves vigorously.

Qibao stumbled: “Minister?”

“Uh...” I hastily looked around, “That...”

“What's wrong, Minister?” He steadied himself and approached me.

I touched my abdomen and forced a smile: “This official needs to relieve myself urgently; I’m afraid I can't hold it.”

“Ah, no problem, no problem, I'll help you find a place.”

Just moments ago he was so urgent, but now he says it's no problem—something's definitely wrong.

I followed Qibao into the garden covered with snow, pondering silently.

“Minister, please go ahead and relieve yourself; I'll wait outside.”

I bent down and ran behind the artificial hill, intentionally making some noise.

“Minister, please hurry; they're waiting over there.”

“Mm, mm, almost done.” I responded perfunctorily and silently flew away, leaving no trace in the snow. In one breath, I flew several zhang and climbed onto a tall pine tree.

“Minister!” A sharp shout echoed faintly in the distance, “Minister!”

After the person searched far away, I sighed and was about to get down when suddenly I heard footsteps in the snow.

“Yanqiu! Yanqiu!”

Two men were chasing each other in the snowy garden; the one in front had a frail figure, seemingly still a youth.

“Yanqiu, stop right there!” The one behind wore a blue official robe, a fourth-rank official.

After several chases, the man in blue seemed to have become ruthless, pinning the youth against a tree: “Run? Let’s see how you run now!”

“Lord Zhu, this is Marquis Lie's residence.” A duck-like voice in puberty—this man, no, this boy was still a tender sapling.

“Hmph, I know very well this is Marquis Lie's residence.” The man moved closer ambiguously, bending down to bite the boy's earlobe.

Bastard, how old is this child?

“Just because it's today at Marquis Lie's residence, I dare to meet you privately.” The man disgustingly licked the boy's face. “Today, the third prince marries one of Yundu's two beauties, Miss Dong. Next month, he will marry the proud princess of Yi country, who is said to be quite domineering. Yanqiu, Yanqiu.” He started panting, “You, a male prostitute staying here, will only be bullied by Marquis Lie’s concubines. How about... ah...” He eagerly touched the boy's body, “I’ll ask the prince to take you back with me. Is that good, hmm?”

Male prostitute? I pitifully looked at the child being abused, anger rising in my heart. Isn’t having a main wife, secondary wives, and concubines enough? They even raise boys to vent their beastly desires—what kind of world is this!

“My Lord, if you want it, hurry up, don’t let others see.”

As if talking about something trivial like drinking water, his tone was calm—has this child been tormented to lose his spirit?

“You despicable person, still so greedy for vanity!” The man tore at the child’s clothes, “Today I’ll finish you off, you whore!”

Unable to tolerate such shameless behavior any longer, I flew down. My wide robe billowed in the air, a touch of light purple dispersed in the snowy world.

“Mi…mi…ster…”

“So it’s Lord Zhu.” I didn’t expect this person to appear so righteous in the Ministry of Rites, yet privately he’s such trash.

Lord Zhu nervously straightened his official robe and bowed deeply; the bow nearly touched the ground: “How did Minister Feng end up here?”

“And why would Lord Zhu be here?” I glanced at the youth, unable to take my eyes off him.

“This humble official... this humble official...” He stammered, “Ah! There’s something ahead, I’ll take my leave first!” The hurried crunching of snow gradually faded into the distance.

I stared blankly at the person before me—thirteen or fourteen years old, extremely beautiful... so beautiful that it was hard to tell he was a boy. The bright red mole on his earlobe was crystal clear and plump, making him infinitely charming.

He slowly knelt down, his glossy black hair scattered on the snow, appearing very soft.

“Your humble slave pays respects to Minister Feng.” He was not only beautiful but also very smart.

“The ground is cold, get up.” I looked at his torn clothes, sighed softly, and took off my brocade robe, “Wear this for now.”

His body stiffened slightly, and seeing the situation, he was about to kneel again.

I reached out and caught his slender wrist: “Don’t kneel to me or refuse. After all, once we leave the garden, you’ll have to return it anyway.”

He lifted his delicate face, his black pupils blank: “Yes.”

I wore a white cotton robe underneath. Since I had just used qinggong, I didn’t feel cold.

“Where is this?” I held my hands behind my back and asked softly.

“In response to the minister, this is Xing Garden, where the Marquis’s inner family resides.”

I pointed to the distant corridor: “And over there?”

“That’s the Marquis's private courtyard.”

“Private courtyard?” I furrowed my brows—what was Qibao leading me there for?

“The private courtyard is the Marquis’s study; ordinary people can’t enter.”

I turned around to look at the beautiful youth—he spoke very tactfully. Can’t enter, can’t enter—the private courtyard must be some kind of confidential place. Did the third prince send Qibao to lead me there to frame someone? To shift blame? Or did he want me to trigger some mechanism and die tragically in the secret building, and then splash dirty water on Yunzhi?

The more I thought about it, the colder my heart became, but I couldn’t help but feel relieved—I'm glad I slipped away just now.

To avoid implicating the innocent, staying with this beautiful youth now is the best choice. After all, he is the prince’s favored plaything, and being with him should prevent suspicion of leaking secrets.

Even if he suffers as a result, even if... no, it shouldn’t happen, perhaps it won’t.

I picked up a handful of snow in frustration and rubbed it harshly on my hands. Though bone-chillingly cold, it washed away the bloodstains between my fingers. I looked at the pale pink melted snow on the ground and turned my gaze to the youth. He stood a few steps away, glancing towards the distance, showing no curiosity at all.

He really is a smart person, I praised him again in my heart.

He appears to be about the same height as me. The purple brocade robe fits him perfectly, making him look even more delicate and beautiful. His refined features seem somewhat familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time.

“How old are you?” I asked casually.

Following behind me, he responded softly: “I'll be fourteen after the New Year.”

So he's still just a child. My anger towards Marquis Lie and that Mr. Zhu deepened further.

“Where are you from?” With my hands behind my back, I stepped on the thick snow, the soft squeaking sound reminded me of that day with Yunzhi when we also walked through the snow.

“This humble slave doesn’t know.”

The sweetness in my heart instantly vanished. I turned to look at the youth: “You don’t know?”

His beautiful face was cold, his response clean-cut: “Yes, this humble slave grew up in a brothel since childhood, not knowing my birthplace or parents.”

I gazed at him suddenly: “You must be mistaken.”

“Huh?” For the first time, an expression other than coldness appeared on his delicate face—it was very cute.

“In fact, you miss your parents a lot, even if they abandoned you, you still do.” I looked up at the long sky; the snowflakes fell one after another on my eyelashes, blurring my vision hazily. “Perhaps, you weren't abandoned—they might have already passed away.”

“This humble slave stopped thinking about them long ago.” A cold snort. “What’s the use of thinking about them?”

Although I noticed the pain hidden in his eyes, I didn’t bring it up. We both silently walked in the snow, each lost in our own thoughts.

“Minister Feng!” He Meng's loud voice shook the snow off the branches, and a pile of cold snow crashed onto my forehead. “Why did you enter the inner courtyard!” He rushed over like a big bear. “Oh no, if someone finds out, it’ll be terrible! Hey, who is he?”

“He’s a person.” I kept walking without looking back. “What? Are you stunned? Yes, indeed, he is a very beautiful person.”

“This… this… this…”

I knew he was tongue-tied, but I didn’t realize he stuttered too.

“Master.”

I turned around to look at the beautiful youth named Yanqiu. He took off the long robe, revealing his tattered clothes. “Thank you for saving me, Master.”

Why did he kneel again? I put on the brocade robe, fastened the belt, leaned forward, and helped him up: “The ground is cold, you shouldn’t kneel.”

The dark, alluring pupils flashed with brilliance, and in an instant, he appeared extraordinarily enchanting.

I hardened my heart and turned away: “Take care.”

I deliberately waited until someone passed by before parting ways with you. You should understand the implications of this. I’m not a good person, don’t look at me like that. I don’t deserve it, not at all.

“Master! Master!” Not far away, He Meng chased after me. “You and him, you and him...”

I glared at him.

“Of course... of course, it’s impossible.” He shook his head like a rattle drum.

“Lou Jing, why did you come out?”

“The wedding banquet is about to start. I saw that the master wasn’t there, so I came out to look for you.”

“The wedding banquet, huh...”

...

At least for now, it's safe. I huddled in a corner, chewing absentmindedly. The third prince's acting skills are top-notch. Look at him smiling and toasting, where can you see that he is...

“A widower who has just lost his spouse?”

A soft sigh by my ear made me momentarily stunned. Is this person a demon? How could he guess my thoughts?

“Qingqing, your gaze is too straightforward.” His peach blossom eyes were full of mesmerizing charm, “No wonder Third Brother smiled a little more today, hmm, pretending and covering up actually revealed more.”

“Yunzhi.” I nervously looked around, “Don't be too arrogant, careful of eavesdroppers.” I regretted telling him everything earlier.

A cool fingertip traced my lips, and I stared at him in shock.

He smiled innocently, his handsome eyes glanced around: “Everyone here is trying to flatter my Third Brother. No one is paying attention to us.”

What about Qibao? I cautiously turned back and saw Liuyao happily drinking and playing finger-guessing games with him.

My heartbeat slightly calmed down. It’s great to rely on Yunzhi for support now. I picked up the wine cup and took a small sip: “How did my brother suddenly return?” Although he didn’t say anything, I still noticed something. How can a military general leave the camp and enter the capital without the king’s order?

“Hmm, you’ve improved a lot these past half months,” he said mockingly, glancing at me. “The other day, Shangguan Sima filed a complaint against Zhusu.”

“Shangguan Mi?” I looked toward the main table; that old scoundrel was enjoying drinks and conversation with the third prince's aides. “Isn’t he one of the Seventh Prince’s men? Why?”

“Hmph, Seventh Brother has raised a white-eyed wolf.” Yunzhi poured himself a drink. “The Shangguan family is now highly favored by Prince Yi, and the old man’s wings have grown stronger too.”

No wonder he left that wedding feast to make connections here. He wants to have a foot in both camps.

“What did he accuse him of? Did my brother offend him?”

“Qingqing, do you know why Beisuo is called the 'fertile land of the upper pavilion'?”

I looked at him in confusion: “Why?”

“From recruiting soldiers and horses to clothing and socks, which of these matters isn’t decided by Beisuo?” Yunzhi dipped some wine and doodled on the table. “The settlement allowance allocated by the court to the soldiers is two taels per year, and the monthly salary is ten strings of coins. In years of intense warfare, there are additional allowances, but in reality, the soldiers receive much less.” He lazily lifted his eyes, his smile faint. “Who do you think the missing silver goes into?”

Naturally... I sighed inwardly: “Doesn’t the king intervene?”

“These are conventions known to everyone. Even if Father knows, he won’t interfere. Can someone be called an official if they don’t take a little?”

I angrily furrowed my brows: “Then what does this have to do with my brother?”

“Ho ho,” Yunzhi’s eyes gleamed with a strange light. “In the Battle of Zhuji, Han's army suffered thirty thousand casualties. This time, Beisuo recruited fifty thousand new recruits. Guess how many Zhusu retained?”

I gave him a glance: “Obviously thirty thousand.”

“Five thousand.”

I stared at him for a long time, confirming there was no trace of jest in his eyes before hesitantly speaking: “Five thousand?”

“Getting into Han's army is harder than taking the imperial examinations.” He curved his lips, exuding confidence. “Otherwise, in the desperate battle of Chengyuan facing enemies many times their number, how could none of Zhusu’s subordinates desert?”

“The Art of War” has the “Six Truths”: swift as the wind, calm as the forest; plundering like fire, immovable like a mountain; difficult to fathom like the shade, sudden as thunder.

The latter two truths refer to generals, while the first four refer to soldiers. Those who achieve the “Six Truths” are invincible in battle, overcoming all obstacles—divine troops! My brother is not only skilled in military strategy but also adept at training soldiers.

“That means kicking out forty-five thousand people; Beisuo really suffered a huge loss this time.”

I proudly looked at my brother not far away; he truly is elegant and extraordinary. Who can compete with him when the Moon Flute comes out!

“So naive.”

Ignoring him, I continued to feel proud.

“Laughing so naively.”

I glared angrily at the side, and Yunzhi rested his chin on his hand, staring fixedly at me: “If you keep laughing like this, Zhusu might be added to your list of conquests.”

“What nonsense are you spouting?” Today, everyone seems to speak between the lines. What have I missed?

“Hmph.” His eyes suddenly turned cold, and he picked up a chopstick of pickled vegetables. “Eat.”

“I don’t eat sour food.”

He smiled contentedly and continued to pile dishes into my bowl: “Haven’t you been eating well these days?”

What? These past few days, Alu has only given me sour radish or sour cabbage. My teeth hurt, my stomach hurts, and my head aches from all the sourness. I originally thought it was because we were short on funds and had to live frugally, but never expected...

“You’re behind this!” I trembled with anger, wanting to slap him.

His dark pupils suddenly darkened as he leaned towards me very slowly: “If you have the guts to indulge in pleasure, how can you not endure some sourness?”

“What indulgence!” I glared back at him without backing down.

“Tsk tsk, look at this, look at this.” The smell of alcohol hit my nose. “Are the young lovers arguing?”

“Third Prince.” My heart sank, and I quickly stood up.

“Third Brother.” Yunzhi brazenly put his arm around my waist, making me grit my teeth in anger but not daring to move.

“Brother, congratulations on your marriage, may all your wishes come true.”

A flash of iron blue crossed the Third Prince's face, and his sharp gaze pierced into me: “Ninth Brother, thank you for your kind words.” He casually touched Yunzhi’s wine glass and drank it all in one gulp.

“Minister Feng.” He extended his wine cup, and the attending official hurriedly poured the wine. “Today is about welcoming and sending off the bride; you’ve done an excellent job.” He spoke each word deliberately, his eyes flashing coldly. “You deserve much credit.”

“Feng Qing has royal duties, these are all within my responsibilities, Your Highness...”

“Oh?” He waved his hand as if slightly drunk. “Today is my happy day, no official talk allowed. Come, Minister Feng, drink three cups with me.”

Without waiting for my consent, the cups were filled with fragrant wine.

I looked at the swaying liquid in the cup and forced a smile: “Precisely because it’s a good day, Your Highness shouldn’t drink too much.”

“Oh?” The Third Prince’s eagle eyes half-closed, the smile not reaching his eyes.

“Why bother drinking so much with us menfolk?” I smiled and joked carefully. “The Marchioness is waiting. Your Highness mustn’t get too drunk; you should enjoy this wedding night properly.”

“Minister Feng really thinks of everything.” He twirled the wine glass in his hand. “Then...”

Then? My heart tightened, a sense of foreboding rising.

“Then please, Minister Feng, drink these three cups with me.” His eagle eyes gleamed sharply. “After these three cups, I’ll go to be with my lovely bride.”

He raised his arm, his smile widening more and more.

“Ding!” The musical sound of porcelain cups clinking entered our ears.

My fingertips felt cool—it was the spilled strong wine.

The Third Prince raised an eyebrow and downed the first cup: “Minister Feng.”

A chill settled in my heart—was there no escaping?

I held a bitter smile, slowly raising the cup, nodding, and pulling my sleeves together.

Would this cup taste like ambrosia, fragrant and penetrating, or would it be as bitter as poisoned wine?

Sighing and lamenting, I could only share these three cups.

I tilted my head back, closed my eyes, and just as my lips touched the celadon, my hand suddenly felt empty.

“Let me drink this wine with you, Brother.”

A wide robe flashed by, and when I focused, I saw Yunzhi’s lips glistening, his mouth curved into a beautiful arc.

“You...” I abruptly pulled his sleeve, my throat feeling blocked as if by something foreign, unable to make a sound.

He glanced at me with a smirk and elegantly raised his arm: “Fill it up.”

Yun...zi...

I reached out to snatch it away, but he countered and grabbed my hand.

His eyes sparkled with laughter, dissipating the usual mist, clear as a spring gently flowing through my heart.

At that moment, I couldn't help but choke up.

“You!” The suppressed voice of the Third Prince drifted over. “Forget it!” He forced a fake smile. “Everyone, please continue eating. I’ll take my leave now.”

“Congratulations, congratulations.”

“The night is short, Your Highness must hurry.”

“Hahaha.”

“How is it?” My gaze remained unwavering, capturing every nuance of his expression.

He sat upright like a towering mountain, his deep eyes like a serene pool.

“How is it?”

He lightly held my hand, smiling enigmatically.

“How exactly is it?”

...

All night long, I kept repeating the same question, but he never spoke.

Outside, the snow continued to fall, silver light stretching across the ground.

His hand was a bit cold, unsettling me.

“That wine...”

I frowned and looked up; his black hair fluttered in the wind, perfectly blending into the darkness.

“No problem, right?”

His pale lips bloomed with unusual warmth.

“Right, no problem.” My voice trembled slightly, entwining my heart.

He paused, his long fingers gently touching my cheek: “What if I said it wasn’t?”

Fluffy snowflakes rested in his hair, making his face seem somewhat pale.

My eyes stung slightly: “Yunzhi, you almost deceived me.”

“Hehe,” he smiled triumphantly, contentedly.

I breathed a sigh of relief—he was indeed bluffing. Just as I was about to glare, I suddenly noticed a streak of darkness slide down from the corner of his lips, his slender body softly collapsing towards me.

“Qingqing, I never lie to you.”

A soft sigh fell by my ear, softening my heart.

“Yunzhi...”