Shi Ting reached for the teapot and poured himself a cup of water.

Yan Qing had known he would come that night and had kept warm tea ready for him all along.

Shi Ting took a sip, warmth spreading through him. Setting the cup down, he finally spoke: “It’s not easy to trace. There are no leads at the moment.”

Though there was no evidence pointing to who stood behind Baofu, those who stood to gain from this affair were none other than Shi Qian and Shi Guang. Which of them it was, however, was difficult to determine — after all, the three brothers appeared on the surface to share a deep bond, the picture of harmony.

Yan Qing refilled his cup. With her movement, the drowsy Erdan lazily opened one eye.

Shi Ting continued: “Whoever the other party is, they’ve made an enemy of Colonel Li.”

Li Yongqi had fought on battlefields for many years — he was more than capable of seeing through such schemes. His son had been used as a sacrificial pawn in someone else’s power struggle. Had Shi Ting not caught the real culprit and saved him, he might very well have lost the sole heir of the Li family.

Whether it was Shi Qian or Shi Guang, when they set their scheme against Shi Ting into motion, they should have considered what they would face if it came to light. The shrewd part of all this was that Li Yongqi also could not determine which of the two brothers it was. Not wanting the innocent one to bear the blame, he could not openly target either of them specifically — yet both had now lost his trust.

This affair would leave a thorn in Li Yongqi’s heart. Not fatal, yet impossible to remove.

By contrast, this very case had dramatically changed Li Yongqi’s impression of Shi Ting. He was grateful to him for uncovering the truth and clearing Li Haotian’s name, and even more grateful to him for pulling a wayward young man back from the edge of a cliff, prompting a dissolute son to turn over a new leaf. That seemingly incidental act had also resolved a great problem that had troubled Li Yongqi for over twenty years.

This battle, though fraught with danger at every turn, Shi Ting had won cleanly and brilliantly. Whoever had laid the scheme behind the scenes, upon learning the outcome, would surely be unable to sleep that night.

“Where will the little one sleep?” Yan Qing set aside her questions about the case and turned her attention to Erdan.

“I’ll build it a little nest.” Shi Ting found two soft cushions and arranged a simple makeshift bed in the corner of the wall. Beneath it happened to be a floor-heating duct, which was wonderfully warm.

Once placed in the nest, Erdan curled himself into a cozy ball with great satisfaction, eyes half-closed and fast asleep.

“I saw snow falling outside earlier,” Yan Qing said. “It looks like it’s going to be a heavy snowfall.”

She had lingered in Taishan far too long. Her father had already sent a telegraph urging her to return. If the snow fell heavily enough, it would likely affect the trains.

“Rest first. If it really comes down hard, leaving a couple of days later won’t make a difference.” Shi Ting took her hand. “Once you’re back in Shun Cheng, it’ll be the new year — and who knows when I’ll next get to see you.”

New Year’s brought an especially heavy load of social engagements, particularly for great households like the Shi and Yan families. Visits to relatives and friends, a constant stream of guests — from the first day of the new year through the fifteenth, there was almost never a moment’s rest.

“Are you staying tonight?” Yan Qing teased him. “Because there’s snow outside and Director Shi is afraid the slippery roads make it hard to leave?”

Shi Ting pulled her close and laughed softly. “Miss Yan has guessed correctly.”

Knowing he was only looking for an excuse to stay, Yan Qing said no more to tease him. These days she had grown accustomed to his presence. When he was not around, she still found herself thinking of him.

Though the two of them slept in the same bed each night, Director Shi had been entirely proper — nothing more than a kiss and an embrace, never overstepping.

Tonight the wind was quiet. Outside, the silence was such that one could hear the soft sound of falling snow.

The two of them lay in bed face to face, quietly, saying nothing.

Her pupils were bright as snow, reflecting his sharp-featured face.

“Shi Ting.” A soft, gentle voice rose in the darkness.

“Mm?” His response came as his knuckles rested lightly against her cheek, his palm warm, his gaze tender.

“How much longer do you think this country will remain in chaos?” It was the first time she had brought up politics with him. He was mildly startled.

“What made you think to ask this?”

“Warlords dividing the land, factions from all sides scrambling for power, war everywhere — and in the end, still the common people who suffer.”

She had lived in a time of peace, had never witnessed war firsthand, yet knew well its cruelty.

“Our country is vast and rich in resources. There’s no telling how many foreign powers are watching from the shadows — and they are well-armed and formidable. Just take the Di Nation, for instance. Using their military strength and advanced technology, they’ve been expanding their influence across our country at a great scale. In truth, they want to coordinate from within and without to ultimately carry out a plan of occupation.”

Shi Ting listened, visibly taken aback. “I never knew you concerned yourself with such things.”

“I’m only speculating.”

Shi Ting took her hand. “Domestic order must come before resisting foreign aggression. I understand all of this.”

“I’m not meddling. I only want to know what your plans are for the future.” Yan Qing was not sure whether it was appropriate to ask — but she was about to marry him. In the future they would be husband and wife, sharing the same honor and hardship. It was only reasonable that she know what he envisioned ahead.

“The Di Nation’s influence has been embedded here for a long time. The Marshal relies on their funds and technology at present and will not openly break with them, but there will be restraint in the background.”

Hearing this, Yan Qing felt a measure of relief settle over her.

She had recently been reading Taishan’s newspapers and frequently came across news about the Di Nation. Their expansion in the Taishan area was moving at a pace several times faster than even in Shun Cheng. Taishan was a military stronghold — if it were taken, the entire northern region would easily fall.

It seemed the Marshal was also guarding against the Di Nation. Shi Ting’s personal delivery of a message to Li Yongqi this time had likely concerned these very confidential matters.

The period she now lived in had gone through a phase similar to what was unfolding in the Xin Nation now. She did not know whether the histories of the two timelines were moving in the same direction, but as in that era, foreign powers were now steadily infiltrating — a great upheaval was coming.

Shi Ting gazed into her clear, water-bright eyes. “As for what I plan to do, you should already be able to guess.”

“Are you confident?” Yan Qing asked seriously, a trace of worry showing in her expression.

Shi Ting said: “Success depends on one’s efforts. I can’t promise it will work, but how will I know if I don’t try?”

He drew her into his arms. “Wresting power from my two older brothers is no simple matter. Every step must be carefully considered.”

He let out a quiet breath against the curve of her neck. “Yan Qing, if I fail one day, what awaits me may be terrible. When that moment comes — don’t hold on…”

“That won’t happen.” Yan Qing cut in, her voice firm.

“It won’t happen?”

“Whether you succeed or fail, I have no way to foresee. But the idea of making me leave you — that won’t happen.” Yan Qing tightened the arm she had wrapped around his waist. “Whatever comes, I will stand by your side — in advance or in retreat, in life or in death. So there is no need to say such things again.”

Shi Ting’s heart immediately warmed. The words of gratitude that rose to his lips dissolved into a kiss, pressed to her forehead, that lingered and would not leave.

That night, the snow fell heavier and heavier. Though the floor-heating duct was burning, cold air still moved through the room.

Two people, holding each other close, leaning against one another for warmth — even in the deepest cold of midwinter, it was as though spring flowers had bloomed and swallows had returned.

The next morning, Yan Qing woke from her sleep. Usually when she reached out by instinct, the space beside her was empty. This time, when her hand moved in that familiar way, it met a solid, firm chest.

She startled awake and sat up abruptly.

Shi Ting was already fully dressed and lying neatly on his side. Seeing that Yan Qing had awoken, the corner of his lips curved. “Good morning.”

Yan Qing reached out and pinched his cheek, as if to confirm he was real. When she heard him speak, she reacted as though she had been given a fright: “You — why didn’t you go back?”

Shi Ting adopted an expression of helpless resignation and raised a hand to point at the back window. “The snow was too heavy. It sealed the window shut — couldn’t push it open.”

The back window was positioned directly in a wind channel. The snow had been driven and gathered there, forming a large snowdrift against the window, so naturally it could not be opened.

“Jing Zhi will be coming in soon.” Yan Qing ran a hand through her hair. “If she sees this, it’ll be disastrous.”

“Then don’t let her in.” Shi Ting leaned against the headboard and picked up a book to browse through casually. “Besides, this is my future wife’s room — why should I not be allowed here?”

Yan Qing’s lips twitched. She was utterly speechless at his shamelessness.

But this man had already settled himself with an air of perfect composure, flipping through his book. The mess he had created was left for her to sort out.

Yan Qing finished tidying herself briefly and was about to get out of bed when someone pulled her back without any room for protest, kissing her soft lips.

She struggled in his arms for a moment, a little irritated by his complete disregard for propriety — yet under his insistent, enveloping kiss that carried both forcefulness and a certain soothing quality, all her annoyance quietly slipped away, leaving only the warmth of his breath and that distinctive, familiar scent.

After a moment, Yan Qing, recovering her reason, gave him a gentle push. “Stop fooling around. Do you really want someone to see you here?”

Shi Ting blinked. “So what? My skin is thick.”

Yan Qing gave a small huff and got out of bed.

She walked to the door, pulled it open a crack, and softly called out: “Jing Zhi.”

Before long, Jing Zhi came running up. “Miss, you’re awake — I’ll go fetch hot water right away.”

“Is Xiang’er here?” Yan Qing glanced out into the courtyard.

“She is.”

Yan Qing thought for a moment. “Send Xiang’er to Ayan’s room to get some face cream for me. I’ve run out.”

“Yes, Miss.”

Once Jing Zhi and Xiang’er had both gone out, Yan Qing waved toward the room.

Shi Ting sat where he was like a lord, entirely unmoved, his eyes not leaving the book in his hands. “I want to eat breakfast here.”

Yan Qing: …

She had the sudden overwhelming urge to give him a good beating.

Before long, Jing Zhi came back from the outer courtyard carrying a basin of hot water, stepped into the room — and immediately caught sight of Shi Ting seated at the table. She froze in place, nearly dropping the basin of hot water in her hands.

—