At noon, Aunt Wang brought food to Xie Chi, and the two ate at the same table.

There was a commotion of voices outside the courtyard. Xie Chi asked her, “Is there something happening today?”

“The chief’s birthday is at the end of this month, and people from below are coming to present gifts. Looks like people from Qing Village—I saw Song Er Dangjia just now, leading people pushing a large cage covered with red cloth. Don’t know what’s hidden inside. I guess all the brothers came—every year it’s like this, coming several days early to present gifts.”

Hearing their names, Xie Chi’s expression immediately changed. Her hand stiffened, chopsticks suspended at the edge of her bowl. “Song Qingtao came too?”

“I don’t know about that—I didn’t dare look too closely.” Seeing her unhappiness, Aunt Wang said, “It’s fine. Even if she came, she wouldn’t dare cause trouble here again.”

Ha! Xie Chi actually hoped she would come and cause trouble—then she could shoot her dead with one bullet, saving herself the trouble of finding ways to hunt her down.

She continued probing, “The chief’s birthday—will many people come? Will everyone from Qing Village come?”

“All the notable people from Qing Village and Lei Village must attend. Many people from other villages will come too, plus people from town. You’ll know when the time comes—the whole mountain will be full of people, incredibly lively.”

In that case, Song Qingtao should come too.

Xie Chi smiled, her mood greatly improved. She picked up some food for Aunt Wang. “Eat more.”

“Hey, I’ll serve myself—you’re the one who needs to eat more.”

Just then, someone knocked at the door.

Both looked toward the entrance—it was an unfamiliar face.

Aunt Wang walked over with her bowl and asked, “Who are you looking for?”

The man held a long cylindrical rolled item in one hand and carried a bag in the other. “The young master asked me to deliver this, worried the young lady might be bored. It’s to pass the time.” The man looked at Xie Chi. “Where should I put it?”

Xie Chi pointed to the table by the wall. “Over there.”

The man walked in and placed the items on the table.

Xie Chi wheeled over and asked, “What is it?”

“You’ll know once you open it.” The man took items from the bag and carefully unpacked them, arranging them one by one.

It was brush, ink, paper, and inkstone.

Xie Chi looked at them, her eyes immediately lighting up.

The man finished arranging everything. “Please see if anything is missing. Just tell me and I’ll get it for you.”

Xie Chi touched the brush bristles—it was wolf hair, quite good quality. “It’s very complete, thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me—I’m just running errands. You should thank the young master. If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.”

“Alright, take care.”

“Yes.”

Aunt Wang touched this and examined that. “This is for writing? So much paper! How long would it take to use all this?”

“For painting. I could use all this up in half a month.” Xie Chi spread out a sheet of rice paper. The paper was somewhat thin and a bit rough, but it would do for painting.

She couldn’t wait to drip a few drops of water on the inkstone and began grinding the ink stick.

The long-missed fragrance of ink—it smelled so good!

“Do you need my help?” Aunt Wang had never used these things and found them curious.

“No need, you go about your business. I can manage by myself.”

“Are you going to paint now?”

“Mm.”

“I don’t have much to do—I’ll watch you paint for a while.”

“Alright.”

“What can you paint?”

“Landscapes, figures, flowers and birds—all kinds.”

“Can you paint me?” Aunt Wang grinned foolishly. “Never mind, never mind—I’m too ugly.”

“I can. I’ll paint you first then.”

…

Xie Chi spent the entire day painting. She had Aunt Wang move the table to the window, where she could see the rolling green mountains in the distance through the glass. In the evening, thick clouds and mist wound around the mountains in large masses, gathering and dispersing—it was her favorite scenery.

When it was almost dark, Aunt Wang brought dinner. Xie Chi only ate a few bites perfunctorily before eagerly returning to her painting.

The lamplight was blocked by her body, so Xie Chi had to light a candle for illumination, continuing to paint from memory based on the small sketches she’d recorded during the day.

Later, the candle burned out. Xie Chi fumbled in the dark to light another one, only to find the cabinet empty with no extras.

Tonight there were dark clouds—no stars or moon visible, and the room was pitch black. Xie Chi carefully wheeled out of the room, wanting to find candles elsewhere, but saw all the doors tightly shut. The entire mountain stronghold was so quiet only the sound of wind remained.

Xie Chi sat alone in the center of the courtyard, looking at the pitch-black night sky and sighing.

It was already late at night.

She’d really gotten carried away with painting, even forgetting the time.

…

Xie Chi hadn’t painted in too long and was somewhat mentally excited, tossing and turning for a long time before falling asleep.

In the latter half of the night, she was awakened by clucking sounds. At first she thought it was just strong wind making the doors and windows rattle, so she paid no attention. She drowsily fell asleep again, then suddenly felt wind blowing in—the window seemed to be open.

Xie Chi turned over and pulled the blanket over her head, but the noise kept her from sleeping. She turned back, intending to lock the window, and just as she sat up, she saw two green points of light on the window.

Xie Chi froze.

The thing crouched on the window, motionlessly watching her.

Xie Chi didn’t dare move, staring at it with wide eyes. The night was too dark—though she couldn’t see clearly, there was no mistaking that silhouette. It was a wolf.

This was deep in the mountains—having wolves was normal.

Xie Chi didn’t dare move carelessly, much less cry out. The wolf suddenly stood up, jumped down from the window, and walked toward her.

Xie Chi’s hand reached under her pillow, wanting to grab her gun.

The wolf came closer and closer, jumping directly onto the bed. It arched its back and lowered its head to examine her. Xie Chi raised the gun, about to pull the trigger, when a call came from outside the room:

“Bai Ge.”

It was He Feng.

Hearing the voice, the wolf turned and swiftly jumped out the window.

Xie Chi breathed a sigh of relief, covered in cold sweat.

Xie Chi moved to her wheelchair and went to the window to peek out. She saw He Feng crouching on the ground, petting the wolf, while Qing Yangzi stood behind them, calling “Bai Ge” repeatedly.

So this fierce bandit actually kept a wolf?

Such a well-behaved wolf, like a dog—how did he tame it?

Truly incredible.

He Feng noticed her and walked over with the wolf. Xie Chi closed the window and locked it, deliberately giving him the cold shoulder.

She had once accidentally heard Concubine Liu say: “Men are just cheap—you have to let them get you but not get you, being elusive, that’s what torments them most.”

…

Xie Chi had insomnia last night, her mind full of He Feng and that white wolf.

The next day she slept until the sun was high, casually ate something, then continued painting. Halfway through, she heard someone singing in the distance—a clear young voice, resonant and prolonged.

Xie Chi gazed at the azure sky, listening to the mountain song, momentarily dazed.

Recently while sketching in Jinan, she had eaten several meals at a mountain villager’s home. That family’s youngest son particularly loved singing mountain songs—it was the most beautiful voice she’d ever heard.

If she hadn’t come to Shandong with Fourth Brother, hadn’t been captured into this mountain stronghold, if Ninth Sister hadn’t died—how wonderful that would have been.

A black bird flew past.

Ink dripped from the soft brush tip, spreading on the rice paper.

She had painted a woman—it was Song Qingtao.

Xie Chi looked at the person on the paper, dipped her brush in vermillion, and fiercely dotted it on her forehead.

Six days remained until He Zhanghui’s birthday.

It was almost time.

“What are you thinking about?”

Xie Chi’s heart jumped with fright. She looked up at the visitor. “Nothing.”

“What are you painting?”

Before he could see clearly, Xie Chi quickly crumpled the paper and casually tossed it aside.

He Feng leaned his elbow against the window, standing casually, and tossed several purple-red fruits in front of her. Xie Chi didn’t recognize these fruits, but they looked quite nice from the outside.

“Did Bai Ge look for you last night?”

“Mm.”

“Not scared?”

“No.”

“The fruit is very sweet.” He Feng lifted his chin toward her. “Try some.”

Xie Chi looked at the several brightly colored fruits on the felt but didn’t move.

“Not poisonous—they’re washed.”

Xie Chi picked up one and took a small bite. Immediately she frowned from the sourness, tears nearly falling.

He Feng was especially pleased, turned, and walked away. “Going out for a bit—I’ll be back later to take you for a stroll.”

Xie Chi watched his retreating figure, raised her hand, and hurled the fruit hard at him, hitting He Feng squarely on the buttocks.

He Feng turned back and smiled at her, one hand rubbing his rear, the other pointing at her. “Wait till I get back—then I’ll deal with you.”

…

In the afternoon, Aunt Wang’s son came to play, pestering Xie Chi to draw little people. She casually made him a kite as well.

He Feng’s courtyard was large enough. She held the kite while the little boy ran at the other end, successfully launching the kite into the sky.

The child was overjoyed. “Look, it’s so high!”

“It can go even higher.”

…

A group of children’s clamoring voices came from outside the main gate.

The guard Chen Zheng blocked them outside while the children pushed inward, speaking all at once: “Let us in!”

“Don’t stop us!”

Chen Zheng put on a fierce expression. “You can’t enter!”

Several children weren’t afraid of him. Chen Zheng brought up He Feng: “This is the young master’s residence. Be careful—when he returns, he’ll use his slingshot on you.”

“Then how come A’Jin is inside!”

“A’Jin came in with his mother—his mother works here!”

“We’ll just take one look and come right out.”

“No way—leave quickly! The young master will be back soon!”

“Who are you fooling! We saw him ride down the mountain early this morning!”

“Go away, go away, all of you go away. If you keep making noise, I’ll start hitting people.”

Xie Chi heard the commotion and came over, asking Chen Zheng, “What’s wrong?”

“A bunch of kids making a fuss about coming in.”

The little leader among the children waved at Xie Chi. “You’re Brother Feng’s little wife, right?”

Xie Chi: “…”

Chen Zheng pushed the child’s forehead. “How can you talk like that! I’ll spank your bottom.”

A’Jin came over pulling the kite. “You came! Look at the kite Sister made for me.”

The little leader suddenly hugged the guard’s leg while several children quickly rushed in. Chen Zheng was furious. “All of you get out! You’ve got some nerve! Wait till I catch you!”

Xie Chi said, “If they want to come in, let them.”

“But the young master said not to let people come and go freely.”

“Children are fine—I’ll explain to him later.”

With her guarantee, Chen Zheng relented. “Alright then.” He pointed at the group of children. “Don’t touch or run around randomly!”

The children made faces at him.

In a moment, Xie Chi was surrounded by a group of children. “Sister, make one for me too.”

“And me!”

“Me too!”

Looking at the innocent, adorable faces, she liked them very much and agreed to all their requests. She had A’Jin help them move the tools and began making kites.

Xie Chi had made these frequently as a child. By dusk, she had completed four. The children launched them into the sky one by one, competing to see whose went highest and farthest.

These kites attracted He Zhan. Though they lived in the same stronghold, Xie Chi hadn’t seen him since they’d parted after drinking fish soup last time.

He Zhan was He Feng’s biological older brother and a harmless invalid, so Chen Zheng didn’t stop him. He still looked frail, but He Feng had changed his attendant—now it was a chubby young man who seemed gentle and kind.

“How lively.”

Hearing the voice, Xie Chi looked over. Seeing it was He Zhan, she wheeled toward him. She thought He Zhan had come looking for He Feng. “He Feng isn’t here.”

“I’m not here for him.” He Zhan looked at her wheelchair with a smile. “How’s the wheelchair working?”

“Quite well.”

“To make this for you, Xiao Feng took mine apart and put it back together, put it together and took it apart. Even now I’m a bit worried sitting in it, afraid it might suddenly fall apart.”

“He’s clever and skilled—it won’t.”

He Zhan was silent for a moment, then smiled. “Not seeing each other for days, you’re already speaking up for him. Looks like you’re getting along well.”

“No, just stating facts.”

“How’s your leg injury?”

“Recovering well enough.”

“That’s good.” He Zhan looked at the toys in the children’s hands. “You made those kites?”

“Mm.”

“Did you paint them yourself?”

“Yes.”

A child nearby interjected, “Sister is amazing at painting.”

“Is that so?” He Zhan smiled. “Then I must ask for some guidance.”

Later, the children played in the courtyard while He Zhan went inside with Xie Chi to watch her paint.

Until it got dark.

He Feng came into the courtyard carrying a chicken—he’d brought it from a tavern down the mountain, a decades-old establishment with excellent flavor. He Feng had specifically brought it back for Xie Chi to try, but as soon as he approached, he saw He Zhan sitting with her, painting.

Their hands were even touching.

He Feng wanted to chop off her hand. Carrying the chicken, he walked over and stood outside the window, watching the two. “Big Brother came.”

Xie Chi glanced at him once and ignored him, lowering her head to continue looking at He Zhan’s painting.

He Zhan said, “You’re back.”

“Mm, how come you’re here?”

“Learning to paint from her.”

“Her? Amateur stuff.”

Xie Chi: “…”

He Zhan: “She’s an expert.”

He Feng: “Stop painting—I brought back a chicken. Old Gong made it himself.”

He Zhan: “Wait a moment—let me finish this painting.”

Xie Chi focused on the painting, silent.

He Feng deliberately called her. “Gone mute?”

Xie Chi didn’t lift her head.

“A’Zhi.”

Xie Chi pretended not to hear.

He Feng picked up a brush and threw it at her. “Stop pretending to be deaf.”

Xie Chi wasn’t angry. She put the brush away properly. “Not eating—I’m painting.”

This made He Feng even more unhappy. So he was like an extra person here while these two were having their poetic, artistic moment, and they even looked quite compatible.

Without another word, he went around through the door, grabbed Xie Chi’s wheelchair with one hand, and directly dragged her away.

“What are you doing?” Xie Chi gripped the wheelchair to prevent herself from falling. “Let go!”

“Xiao Feng,” He Zhan also spoke up. “Go slower.”

He Feng also pretended not to hear, dragging her with bumps and jolts all the way to his room. He threw the chicken on the table, put one foot on the long bench, and commanded imperiously, “Eat.”

“…”

He slapped the table. “Hurry up—eat!”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Eat even if you’re not hungry.”

“I won’t eat.”

He Feng put his leg down, casually walked out, and locked the door from outside. “You can’t come out until you finish eating.”

Xie Chi went over and pounded on the door. “Are you sick or something!”

…