Although Shen Xiling would be grateful for the rest of her life for that moment of meeting Qi Ying, in all fairness, it was not a dignified encounter: at that time she was kneeling in the snow in the most wretched posture of her life, her mother unconscious in her arms, wracked with illness, while that man stepped slowly out of his elegant carriage wearing a fur coat, walking to her side to look down at her from above.

It was an extremely indifferent and calm glance, after which she heard him say, “Mm, it is indeed these people.”

At that time Shen Xiling didn’t know who this person before her was, nor could she understand his words. She only saw those city guard soldiers respectfully saluting him and inquiring of him about their origins.

He did not answer, his expression appearing inscrutable in its joy or anger, making that soldier extremely anxious. His household servant spoke on his behalf: “These people are criminal slaves from our Young Master’s Fenghe Garden who committed offenses and were to be banished to the estate to do hard labor. Unexpectedly they were so audacious as to flee privately in the night. Fortunately the military officer caught them, sparing our Young Master further trouble. We should thank you instead.”

Hearing this, the soldier repeatedly said he dared not accept such thanks, though his expression showed some hesitation as he respectfully said, “Lord Qi does not know—tonight two fugitives escaped from Shangfang Prison, precisely a mother and daughter. We have orders to apprehend them, so these people may still need to be brought back for questioning.”

Qi Ying still did not speak, and they heard that household servant say, “The military officer jests. Our Young Master has seen them with his own eyes—how could there be any mistake? Military officer, just return these criminal slaves to us and focus wholeheartedly on catching the fugitives.”

That soldier looked extremely troubled, cautiously watching Qi Ying’s expression while saying to the household servant, “We have orders to follow and truly cannot act carelessly. I humbly request that Your Lordship allow us to bring these people back to the Court of Judicial Review for questioning. If they are truly escaped slaves from Your Lordship’s mansion, we will naturally return them to the mansion without another word. Please do not make this difficult for us.”

The snow was gradually falling more heavily. Qi Ying looked up at the sky, then glanced at that soldier, finally speaking: “The Court of Judicial Review is under Lord Lu’s jurisdiction. You may tell him that I took these escaped slaves tonight. If Lord Lu questions this, I will personally go to the Court of Judicial Review tomorrow to explain. How about that?”

His final “How about that?” was spoken neither raised nor lowered, clearly in a questioning tone, yet it carried an indisputable force. That soldier sensed his displeasure and hastily apologized with a bow, replying, “Yes.”

He nodded, lightly brushing away a few snowflakes from his shoulder, and said to that household servant, “Since this matter is settled, let’s return.”

Shen Xiling was taken out of the city by him in front of everyone. His household servant had someone carry her mother on their back, and also brought along that wandering knight, but once they reached the forest outside Jiankang City, they released him.

The forest was desolate and cold. That wandering knight was filled with surprise and uncertainty, cupping his fists toward the person in the carriage and saying, “I was ordered to ensure the safety of Madam and Miss. Now that the two have not yet been settled, how can I leave?”

Shen Xiling stood outside the carriage and still could not hear that person’s reply, only hearing his household servant say, “Since our Young Master has taken charge of this matter, he will certainly arrange everything properly. The knight-errant can be completely at ease.” After speaking, he pointed toward the depths of the forest, and only then did everyone see that hidden among the trees was another horse carriage, with a person standing vaguely beside it, not very clear to see in the night snow.

At that time Shen Xiling was still as if in a dream. She didn’t know who he was, didn’t know why he would rescue her, and didn’t know what would happen next. Her gaze was somewhat scattered, her consciousness not very clear. She only felt the bitter winter wind penetrating her thin clothing, making her feel very cold—colder than during winter days at home when they lacked charcoal for the fire.

She was so cold that her limbs had become stiff, yet when the servant of the person beside her carried her mother toward that other carriage hidden in the forest, she still struggled uneasily, fearing separation from her mother. But that servant’s steps did not pause, so she stumbled after them on her stiff and frozen legs. Being frozen until her legs and feet were not very nimble, she was tripped by stones in the forest and fell hard to the ground, getting covered in muddy snow.

In that bone-deep cold she suddenly began to resent her own powerlessness, just as she had felt equally powerless when watching her weak and sickly mother lying on her sickbed in the past. She felt no pain, or rather at that time she could no longer feel pain—only boundless grief and bitterness suddenly overwhelmed her, even more intensely than when she had been in prison.

At that moment she seemed to hear a sigh. She turned her head numbly to look and saw that person stepping out of the carriage. She looked straight at him, without flinching, watching him walk toward her step by step until he half-crouched beside her and draped his elegant and clean fur coat over her body.

His fur coat was luxurious and warm, blocking out the wind and snow completely, faintly carrying his body warmth and a light scent of sweet pine.

“Don’t be afraid.” He personally tied the strings of the fur coat for her, his voice sounding sparse: “They’re only taking your mother to rest in the carriage.”

Shen Xiling showed no reaction in her numbness. He glanced at her and reached out to help her up from the ground.

After a night of terror and rushing about, now also being ill, her legs were weak and she couldn’t stand steadily. He supported her once, and seeing her body sway while noting her pale complexion, he lifted her horizontally to sit on the carriage shaft. That embrace was broad and warm, with the sweet pine scent surrounding her. Night snow accumulated in the forest, the ground faintly reflecting the bright white snow light, illuminating the man’s features. Only then did Shen Xiling truly see his face clearly.

He was an extremely handsome man.

Young Master Qi’s reputation for talent was too great and his birth too illustrious, so much so that when people spoke of him they overlooked his appearance. In reality he possessed a pair of extremely beautiful phoenix eyes, with pupils dark as spilled ink, his gaze both deep and steady. Reflecting the snow light on the ground and the disheveled young girl, he appeared indifferent yet compassionate. At that time he stood beside the carriage shaft in his tall cap and wide robes, behind him a heavy snowfall the likes of which Jiankang City hadn’t seen in decades. Occasionally snowflakes would fall on his brows and the corners of his eyes, making his bearing appear even more noble and refined. Anyone seeing such a scene would understand what was meant by “the exemplar of Jiangzuo aristocratic families.”

At that time his expression as he looked down at Shen Xiling was very complex—his face appeared indifferent and distant, yet in those beautiful phoenix eyes there was vaguely some compassionate color, making Shen Xiling want to cry for a moment. But she didn’t cry. Holding back her tears and fear, trembling almost imperceptibly, she asked him, “…Who are you?”

Perhaps thinking she was cold, he reached out to tighten the fur coat draped over her, but this caused her to shrink back more obviously. So his hand paused and withdrew, and he answered, “I am Qi Ying.”

Qi Ying.

Shen Xiling had heard this name before. In the rumors he was the young second-place scholar personally selected by Emperor Liang’s own brush, the Second Young Master Qi respected by the Jiangzuo aristocratic families, and the current Deputy Minister of the Great Liang Privy Council who had attained high position despite barely reaching the age of twenty. But she had never thought she would one day become involved with this person, much less that he would rescue her.

Her hands tightly gripped the fur coat he had draped over her as she asked, “Why did you save us?”

He stood outside the carriage canopy, already covered with many snowflakes, yet appeared not the least bit disheveled. Hearing her question, he pondered for a moment, as if recalling some past event, then answered indifferently, “Your father could be considered my elder uncle.”

He was sparing with words, but Shen Xiling wanted to know more. Upon hearing him mention her father, her eyes brightened almost imperceptibly, and she immediately grasped his sleeve, asking, “Father—is Father well? Will he come to find us?”

She was still young then, not yet possessing the stunning beauty of her later years, but on that snowy night upon hearing news of her father, her eyes became startlingly bright. A small jade-white hand tightly gripped his sleeve as if grasping the last piece of driftwood, that desperate brightness in her eyes something to be remembered for a very long time.

But Qi Ying did not answer her question. He only pointed toward that carriage and said to her, “Take that carriage to Langya—that is your mother’s ancestral home. Once you go there, your father will be at peace.”

Shen Xiling had never heard her mother speak of her maternal family’s affairs, and at this moment had no mind to pursue the matter. She only tugged at his sleeve, continuing to press about her father’s situation. He looked down at her once but still did not answer, saying instead, “The man driving the carriage is called Bai Song—he is my personal attendant. He will personally escort you to Langya and help you settle. Whatever you need, you may send him to handle.”

As soon as his words ended, Shen Xiling saw the figure who had been standing beside that carriage begin walking toward them. Drawing closer, she could see it was a young man dressed all in black, extremely tall, with his hands clasped around a sword and a scar of moderate depth in the middle of his left eyebrow.

When that person approached he was frowning, and because of the scar between his brows he appeared somewhat fierce. Without a word he lifted her down from the carriage shaft and pulled her toward the other carriage. Shen Xiling struggled desperately, unwilling to go with him—she still had many questions for Qi Ying—but Bai Song’s strength was great while she was only an eleven-year-old girl, powerless against his dragging. As he pulled her away, she kept turning back to look at Qi Ying. That man still stood in the same place, standing in the snow in his thin clothing, also looking toward her.

She suddenly became panicked and called out loudly, “My father… will I be able to see my father again?”

With the increasing distance she began to lose sight of Qi Ying’s expression, not knowing whether he was pitying her then. She only heard his calm and indifferent voice carry through wind and snow into her ears. He said, “Your father paid a great price to save you. If you don’t want his efforts to be in vain, then remember that you are only your mother’s daughter and never had any father.”

As soon as his words finished, she was stuffed by Bai Song into the northbound carriage.

That snowfall in Jiankang City not seen in more than ten years, and the man she first saw in that heavy snow, abruptly disappeared from before her eyes.