Three years ago during the winter hunt, Zhu Nanxian had also encountered a blizzard. At that time, he was within the hunting grounds where outposts were nearby, allowing him to make camp at any time.

However, now, looking back at the two women and two wounded men behind him, if they didn’t find shelter promptly, he feared they wouldn’t survive.

Fortunately, on his way here earlier, he had seen a cave on a nearby mountain ridge. It appeared to have been carved out by someone, serving as a resting place for those who mistakenly entered the restricted area.

Zhu Nanxian said to Su Jin and Qiling: “Help those two onto the horses. We’re heading east.”

Then he walked alone to the bear’s carcass, quickly using his blade to cut open the bear’s back and taking a piece of meat, which he wrapped in cloth.

The wind and snow arrived suddenly. The snowflakes were so dense that one could barely keep their eyes open. The group gathered some dry kindling and thin wooden stakes from beneath shrubs along the way that had not yet been affected. Upon reaching the cave, they first placed the firewood inside, then helped Tan Zhaolin and A’shan down from the horses’ backs.

The cave entrance was quite large. The outer chamber was apparently used as a lookout. Passing through a short tunnel and walking further in, they reached a stone chamber of moderate size.

The stone chamber was very dark. Zhu Nanxian lit a fire starter, gathered several stones to build a hearth, piled some of the dry kindling inside, and used the fire starter to ignite dried grass to create a flame. Only then did he get the fire going properly.

This cave was indeed meant for people to rest—inside were even several straw mats left by previous visitors.

Su Jin helped Tan Zhaolin sit down on a straw mat. Taking the water pouch Zhu Nanxian handed her, she drank a mouthful, then turned to see Qiling’s face was pale and her lips purple. Knowing she had been raised in sheltered luxury and had never suffered such hardship, she passed the water pouch to her.

Qiling bowed gracefully: “Thank you, my lord.”

Over there, Zhu Nanxian was already examining A’shan’s leg bone.

It was a fracture. If they were in the palace, such an injury would be easy to treat, but now with neither medicinal materials nor physicians available, Zhu Nanxian could only whittle the wooden stakes they had gathered into boards and use them to splint the leg bone on both sides, first stabilizing the injury.

A’shan was sweating profusely from the pain, yet he still couldn’t help but try to rise and bow: “This subordinate failed to share Your Highness’s burdens and instead requires Your Highness’s distracted care. It is truly unforgivable.”

Zhu Nanxian stopped him: “We’re all military men. No need for excessive formality.”

This was the truth. In the past, when he led troops in the northwest, he had encountered situations even more perilous than this. Back then, several people had squeezed into a narrow cave, sharing a single felt blanket—how could they distinguish between prince and commoner?

A’shan smiled weakly and removed a wine pouch from his waist: “Officer Tan has external injuries. This wine should be useful for him.”

On the straw mat nearby, Su Jin had already helped Tan Zhaolin remove his upper garment. Looking by the firelight, she saw his wounds had flesh curled back, the cuts quite deep, with some areas completely mangled.

Zhu Nanxian walked over carrying the wine pouch and said: “Old Tan, bear with it.” He immediately pried open the wine pouch with his thumb and poured it over his back.

Tan Zhaolin cried out in agony.

Zhu Nanxian looked around and gestured with his chin toward Qiling: “Pull out that thinnest hairpin from your hair.”

It was a delicate golden plum blossom hairpin. Zhu Nanxian used the knife handle to break off the decorative head, pulled thread from a tear in his own robe, wound it around the hairpin shaft, then asked Qiling: “Can you… stitch wounds?”

Qiling looked at the curled flesh on Tan Zhaolin’s back, somewhat horrified, and said timidly: “This subject only knows needlework. I’ve never pierced a needle through human flesh.”

Su Jin pondered briefly and said: “I’ll do it.”

However, Qiling was observant and attentive. Earlier, when she and Su Jin had helped Tan Zhaolin remove his clothing, she had noticed his movements were somewhat restricted. She couldn’t help but ask: “Is the injury to Lord Su’s hand not serious?”

Su Jin shook her head: “Thank you for your concern, Fourth Miss. I’m fine.”

Hearing this, Zhu Nanxian said: “Let me see.” He then grasped Su Jin’s hand and pushed up her sleeve.

Her wrist had some bruising and swelling, probably twisted when she had been thrown earlier.

Zhu Nanxian’s brow furrowed, but he still said: “It’s nothing, just bruising from the fall.” Then he lifted his eyes slightly and asked softly: “Does it hurt?”

Su Jin lowered her eyes: “It’s just a minor injury.”

Zhu Nanxian thought for a moment, then looked at Qiling: “Would Fourth Miss please go outside and fetch some snow?”

Qiling had been sitting by the fire and was somewhat warmer now. Hearing Zhu Nanxian say this, she immediately nodded in agreement.

Only then did Zhu Nanxian turn back to look at the wounds on Tan Zhaolin’s back. After thinking, he said: “I’ll do it myself.”

Tan Zhaolin was startled: “Your Highness will do it? No—Your Highness, have you ever done this before?”

Zhu Nanxian acknowledged with a somewhat guilty sound: “A few years ago when leading troops in the northwest, I stitched someone up once.” Afterward, every wounded soldier in the entire garrison avoided him like the plague.

Zhu Nanxian paused and added: “But my hand is heavy. You’ll have to bear with it.”

Then he raised his hand. With one pierce of the hairpin, a bead of sweat appeared on Tan Zhaolin’s temple and his face suddenly flushed red. The next moment, he wailed: “Your Highness, your hand is too heavy! How can this hurt more than being clawed by the bear?”

Zhu Nanxian touched his nose: “Where does all this nonsense come from? You should be grateful I’m treating your wound.” As he spoke, he pulled the thread to pierce again with the hairpin.

But Tan Zhaolin was so alarmed he tried to dodge: “I don’t want you doing it! I want Lord Su!”

Zhu Nanxian clicked his tongue but ignored him.

Seeing Zhu Nanxian about to pierce with the hairpin again, Su Jin said: “Let me do it instead.” She continued: “Zhaolin also did this to save me.”

Tan Zhaolin quickly added: “Right, I did it all to save my lord.” Then he shuffled closer to Su Jin and sat up properly in a well-behaved posture. “My lord, I’m sitting properly now.”

Su Jin took the hairpin from Zhu Nanxian’s hand. After hesitating briefly, she said: “I’m not very skilled at this either.” She examined Tan Zhaolin’s wound carefully, raised the hairpin and pierced it in. Hearing him hiss, she added: “Bear with it. If it hurts, think of something else.”

Tan Zhaolin did have something else on his mind. With Su Jin saying this, he directly asked: “My lord, why did that bastard Fourteenth Prince say earlier that the Thirteenth Prince likes you?” He jutted his chin toward outside the cave. “I heard His Highness is going to marry that Miss from the Qi family?”

Su Jin’s hands paused in their motion.

Zhu Nanxian was just about to speak when Qiling had already returned with the snow.

It was inconvenient to say more. He cut off a corner of his robe, made a snow pack, and handed it to Su Jin for cold compress.

It was approaching evening. After Su Jin finished stitching Tan Zhaolin’s wounds, Zhu Nanxian roasted the bear meat and shared it with everyone. Qiling’s constitution was more delicate. After catching a chill and then eating the bear meat which caused internal heat, her complexion had become quite poor.

Seeing this, Su Jin used A’shan’s phoenix-wing helmet to hold snow, boiled hot water, and handed it to her. Just as she was about to reach out to touch Qiling’s forehead, unexpectedly Qiling dodged away, saying: “My lord, men and women should not have physical contact.”

Su Jin said: “But you…”

Before she could finish speaking, Qiling looked up to see Zhu Nanxian walking toward them. Her face reddened, and she called out softly: “Your Highness.” Then she lowered her eyes and explained to Su Jin: “My lord, this subject was brought to the winter hunt by His Highness.”

Su Jin froze, turning to glance at Zhu Nanxian.

She recalled Tan Zhaolin’s earlier words and immediately understood the meaning behind Qiling’s statement. She said: “This official has overstepped.” She stood up, placed the phoenix-wing helmet containing water in Zhu Nanxian’s hands, and added: “I trouble Your Highness to look after Fourth Miss Qi.”

With that, she went to the fire to take a torch and was about to walk to the outer cave chamber.

Zhu Nanxian asked in surprise: “What are you doing?”

Su Jin’s tone was indifferent: “This stone cave has no rear exit. Someone should keep watch outside. Your Highness is royalty, Fourth Miss Qi is a woman, Zhaolin and A’shan are wounded. It should naturally fall to this subject to stand guard.”

Having finished speaking, without pausing in her steps, she walked directly toward the cave exit.

Zhu Nanxian turned to glance at the remaining three people, handed the phoenix-wing helmet to A’shan, and instructed: “I’ll stand watch. You look after Fourth Miss Qi. If anything happens, just call for me.”

The outer cave chamber was not as warm as the inner one. Through the cave entrance, one could see the howling wind and snow outside.

It was as if someone had drawn a long curtain of white vastness for the cave.

Su Jin, following Zhu Nanxian’s example, gathered several stones to build a shallow hearth and used the remaining dry kindling to start a fire. Before she could find a clean place to sit, Zhu Nanxian arrived.

Su Jin paused, couldn’t help but glance toward the stone cave behind him, and asked: “Why did Your Highness come out?”

Zhu Nanxian didn’t answer this question. Instead, he looked up toward the sky and earth full of wind and snow outside the cave. After a moment, he said: “I wonder how my elder brother is faring.”

Su Jin said: “Your Highness has already made thorough preparations. Moreover, His Highness the Crown Prince is blessed with good fortune. Your Highness need not worry.”

Zhu Nanxian acknowledged with a sound and smiled: “My elder brother is a hundred times more intelligent than I am. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Su Jin glanced at him, gathered some dried grass from the corner of the cave and spread it out, then asked with lowered eyes: “Is Fourth Miss Qi feeling better?”

Zhu Nanxian said: “It’s probably just an ordinary cold. I’ve already asked A’shan to look after her. Tomorrow when the guards find us in the mountains, we’ll have an imperial physician examine her.”

Su Jin softly acknowledged, sat down on the dried grass, held back, but ultimately couldn’t help asking: “Why did Your Highness bring her to the winter hunt?”

The fire in the stone hearth was burning vigorously. Zhu Nanxian fell silent for a moment, picked up a wooden branch to reduce the fire slightly, then sat down beside Su Jin: “On the day of the New Year banquet, because of Third Brother’s matter, I brought her back to the Eastern Palace. Father Emperor ordered me to bring her to the winter hunt.”

Su Jin lowered her eyes and said quietly: “But I heard that at the New Year banquet, any female family member chosen by the Thirteenth Prince for the winter hunt would later be taken as a consort by His Highness.”

When Su Jin said this, she actually felt bewildered.

She didn’t know what had come over her. She had never been someone who lacked such self-control or who didn’t know her place.

Was it the lingering fear after surviving danger that finally allowed a trace of greed to grow in her heart, making her begin to hope for some support in this world of drifting wind and snow?

She lowered her eyelids very low, as if wanting to see clearly into her own heart: “Does Your Highness intend to marry her?”

Zhu Nanxian turned his face to look at her.

The firelight blazed. Su Jin’s complexion was pale, without even a trace of the rosy glow one should have from the flames.

But he knew what she wanted to ask.

That answer had been carefully placed at the tip of his heart, over the years becoming fine wine.

Until this moment, when he retrieved it from the depths of time saturated with the years’ passage and was about to pour it out, it transformed into a greedy question: “Do you hope I will marry her?”

Su Jin smiled silently: “As a prince, Your Highness should have taken consorts long ago. To delay like this is truly improper. As your subject, as a censor, I should have remonstrated directly long ago. Your Highness is legitimate imperial lineage—marriage and producing heirs concerns the realm and its foundation. These years, this subject has often associated with Your Highness yet never offered counsel. This is truly my dereliction of duty, a failure to fulfill my loyal responsibilities. It really is—”

She finally could not continue.

The heart bound by crisscrossing old vines had somehow long ago received a ray of spring light, stubbornly forming buds from its roots, actually wanting to bloom fully.

She turned her face to look at him: “I don’t hope so.”

She was also flesh and blood, also hoping to be trusted by those she trusted, loved by those she loved.

Su Jin said word by word: “I don’t hope Your Highness will marry her.”

Zhu Nanxian was born with fine features—a prominent nose, spirited brows—but his eyes were most handsome, bright as if tempered with starlight. The deeper one looked, the more one saw scenic mountains and lakes. Even sitting in the darkness of night, it was as if one were in the midst of sun, moon, mountains and rivers, so refreshingly free.

Just like him as a person, his forthright bearing naturally carried the bright breeze and clear moon.

Unconsciously, she had become drawn to him.

Yet after saying this, Su Jin suddenly felt somewhat dejected.

What good did her not hoping do?

This life of hers already had no smooth path. She had long known the inexplicably growing feelings in her heart were improper and impossible. For two years she had never once indulged herself in dwelling on them carefully. Only today, when she let herself directly face this surging emotional tumult, did she discover she had always maintained a posture of looking up, marveling at his candor and brilliance.

Su Jin found it laughable. For the first time in her life, she discovered she also had a humble side. She had thought that beneath her proud and unyielding character, aside from ambition and righteousness, there was nothing else.

She shook her head and smiled faintly: “This humble subject misspoke.” Then she moved to stand, wanting to walk into the stone cave, but her wrist was suddenly pulled.

Su Jin lost her balance. Turning around, she fell into a warm embrace.

Zhu Nanxian said: “In this life, except for Su Shiyu, I want no one else.”

He fell silent briefly, then continued: “When I was young, I thought that since my Father Emperor is the emperor and my brother will also be emperor someday, then when I grow up, I’ll lead troops and guard the realm for them. Until later when I met you, all those thoughts vanished. I only wanted to protect you well.”

Zhu Nanxian had always been careless and rough. In this half a lifetime, the only matter he had carefully pondered was probably Su Shiyu.

He remembered that year when she fell into the water and he pulled her out, seeing her body covered in scars.

His heart had truly ached then. He felt that each of those shallow, deep, vicious, winding scars was as if branded on his own body. Each one made him empathize deeply in countless midnight dreams.

Therefore, he used all his strength to try to understand her sorrows and joys, and the tumultuous life beneath the surface of those sorrows and joys.

Zhu Nanxian said: “The suffering you endured before—I know it all. I want to do everything I can to ensure you never again feel lonely and helpless. The loneliness, regrets, and unwillingness of half your life—from now on, I will make it all up to you. You can live however you wish. I’ll watch over you and take care of you. From this day forward, you need never again be fearful or anxious, because I will always be here. As long as I live, I will guard you.”

Great swaths of spring light fell with fine rain. That flower stubbornly blooming in her heart burst open overnight, climbing and winding upward along the vines.

Su Jin smiled softly: “What if His Majesty forces Your Highness to take a consort?”

Zhu Nanxian said: “Then I’ll hide. If I can’t hide, I’ll run—to Nanchang, to the northwest.” He smiled. “Once I’ve run far enough and the storm passes, I’ll come back to find you.”

Even now, he still hadn’t tried to force her to go to Nanchang.

Zhu Nanxian continued: “I’ve thought it all through. Once my brother ascends the throne and the separatist feudal princes are pacified, I won’t stay in Nanchang either. I’ll return Nanchang Prefecture to my brother, then come back to the capital to command some garrison troops. You’ll be a censor in the capital, and I’ll petition my brother to be an idle prince. If you need to investigate cases, I’ll accompany you. If you need to conduct provincial inspections, I’ll accompany you too. When that time comes…”

Su Jin said: “When that time comes, the realm will be prosperous and the seas calm, the rivers clear. If Your Highness wishes to be a prince, A’yu will be a censor. If Your Highness wishes to lead troops, A’yu will seek a military position. If Your Highness wishes to tour mountains and waters, A’yu will also follow at Your Highness’s side—as an escort or attendant, whatever it may be. For Your Highness’s great kindness, I shall repay with this entire life.”