Xie Queshan hadn’t slept all night either.

An informant from the back mountain came under cover of darkness, reporting that from the conversation between Xie Sui’an and Prince Ling’an, they learned that the Bingzhu Bureau had a new leader.

That person must be Song Muchuan—he had indeed chosen to stand on the side that would draw swords against him.

The reason he had suddenly allowed Xie Sui’an to go to the back mountain was to verify his suspicions about Song Muchuan. He hadn’t expected Prince Ling’an to speak carelessly and bring up Pang Yu’s matter.

The more she hated him, the more at ease the Qi people would be with him. Harmony within the Xie household wasn’t what the Qi people wanted to see.

He thought his earlier interrogation should have alerted Xie Xiaoliu. She needed to know that if today she had first encountered not him, but a spy planted from outside, Prince Ling’an’s hiding place might very well have been exposed.

He wondered how far Xie Xiaoliu, with her temperament that showed every emotion on her face, could go on this path.

Fortunately, Nanyi was clever. This thought suddenly emerged in his mind.

Initially, she was just a chess piece he occasionally used to break deadlocks, but over time, they had developed a certain understanding. She was an excellent piece—so good that… he had even developed a trace of dependence on her.

His mind was filled with countless thoughts. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting when he heard birds chirping outside the window and realized dawn had come.

He pushed open the window to air out the stale atmosphere that had accumulated overnight, only to discover someone standing outside.

That person had apparently been hesitating for a while—frost clung to her hair. She was about to leave when the sound of the window opening made her look up.

The night’s darkness still lingered in her eyes. Her eyes were clean as if holding a drop of clear dew, and that insignificant drop seemed to roll down and land right on his heart, creating a circle of shallow ripples.

He felt inexplicably pleased.

But his face remained impassive as he looked at her, waiting for her to speak.

After hesitating, she asked: “You won’t harm Song Muchuan, will you?”

The ink-dark color in Xie Queshan’s eyes churned, but she couldn’t read his emotions. The warmth from inside the room drifted out through the window, confusing one’s senses.

He suddenly smiled. When he smiled, he was very handsome—like glaciers melting, dead trees meeting spring. The radiance of youth occasionally bloomed on this usually calculating face.

But his words were extremely cold: “I gave him a chance, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Nanyi was stunned, forgetting to blink.

He genuinely felt some anger, though this anger came inexplicably.

Song Muchuan, Pang Yu, Xie Xiaoliu, Third Uncle, even Second Sister… all these people closely connected to him, she was entangled with them all. He had too many secret moments he shouldn’t let her see. He had tacitly allowed these moments to exist, allowed her to quietly observe, but he wouldn’t permit her to show pity, wouldn’t permit her to interfere.

What path he walked, how he treated those around him—how dare she, and from what position, question him about this?

What relationship did she have with Song Muchuan that made her bold enough to ask him such a question?

He tilted his head, his lips still holding that smile: “He insists on opposing me—what can I do? I won’t kill him, but I’ll make him suffer every humiliation under the Qi people’s hands. He’ll be unable to live, unable to die. I’ll break his backbone inch by inch, and everything he cares about, I’ll destroy piece by piece…”

Nanyi stood there stunned.

He was so terrible.

She didn’t want to hear him speak at all. Nanyi turned and walked away—she didn’t know where she got such audacity.

Xie Queshan’s words stopped abruptly, forcibly swallowing the rest of his sentence—had she just given him the cold shoulder?

Was she crazy or was he crazy?

He opened his mouth, wanting to shout and call her back. But wouldn’t that show he cared too much, putting him at a disadvantage?

His mind went blank for a moment as he stared at her retreating figure, suddenly noticing that this girl who used to walk while looking around suspiciously had somehow straightened her spine and now walked so properly.

She crouched down, seemingly fiddling with something, then turned back angrily and fiercely threw a snowball at him.

He was so surprised he forgot to dodge.

Her snowball was both accurate and vicious, hitting him square in the face with a mess.

After a few seconds of silence, Xie Queshan gritted his teeth and wiped his face. The crushed snow smeared across his features, making him look like a little old man.

Under snow-white eyebrows were a pair of startlingly bright eyes that seemed to drown even the morning light.

Undisguised killing intent rose around him.

Nanyi met his gaze defiantly, but her momentum was crushed by his overwhelming presence wave after wave until her legs felt weak, and she belatedly panicked.

She blinked and ran.

He jumped directly through the window to chase her.

Xie Queshan grabbed Nanyi by the collar like lifting a small chicken, casually scooped up a handful of snow and stuffed it down the back of her neck.

“You ungrateful thing! Who let you live? You’re hitting me for an outsider?”

He was usually very refined and rarely cursed so plainly—he must be truly furious.

Nanyi screamed as the snow down her back chilled her to the bone. She didn’t know where she found the strength to break free, instinctively pushing him away and bending down to grab a handful of snow, squeezing it in her palm before throwing it at him.

“Xie Queshan, you’re the ungrateful dog! How have your family and friends wronged you! Everyone has sad past events! Only you’re being dramatic! Only you want revenge on everyone!”

When it came to unleashing verbal abuse, Nanyi, this little street ruffian, had never lost to anyone.

“Oh, so you also want me to take revenge on you?” He laughed in anger, using his height advantage to grab snow from tree branches, rolling it in his palm into a solid snowball. “A lowly life is still a lowly life—good food and drink can’t shut your mouth.”

He swung his arm to throw, and Nanyi immediately dodged, only to be hit squarely on the head by another snowball as everything went white—she realized his first move had been a feint.

Her hair bun was knocked loose, snow covering her entire body. There wasn’t much point in dodging anymore.

Nanyi gritted her teeth: “Come on! If you have the guts, kill me! Otherwise, just wait for payback!”

Xie Queshan bent down to gather snow while Nanyi charged forward throwing snowballs. The two fought in the snow.

Techniques, martial arts—none of it mattered anymore. Both hands were working, even scraping snow from low walls.

Close combat was humanity’s most primitive action, venting the deepest emotions beneath layers of civilization.

Anger and grievance.

She was angry—angry at his villainous facade. And he felt wronged—this grievance was so deep even he hadn’t noticed it, always disguising itself as viciousness when it erupted.

His movements suddenly stopped when he realized that somehow he had pinned her in the snow, messily burying snow on her face. Half his body leaned over her while her hands still swept wildly on the ground, gathering all the snow she could reach in her palms.

Her disheveled hair fell across her face, her clothing loose and askew. The scenery beneath her clothes rose and fell with her breathing, and the goose-yellow knot on her sash had come half undone, like a resting butterfly. For the first time, he noticed she had such a graceful waist.

His misty white breath faintly brushed against her face as his eyes gazed at her through the haze.

She held the snowball ready to slam it hard against his head, but her movement also froze.

The position was quite intimate.

The strength in her hands loosened, and the snowball rolled to the ground. The person who had been fierce just moments ago was now somewhat at a loss.

All sensation returned. Her back pressed against the cold snowy ground while above her was a burning-hot person.

A bit cold.

As if possessed, her hand that had been suspended in midair reached toward the back of his neck—the warmest place.

Her fingers, cold from touching snow, made his back tense with a shiver as a strange sensation flowed through his entire body. His muscles immediately tensed, rigid beneath her fingertips.

At this moment, he was unbelievably docile.

He gazed at her eyes in fascination, but couldn’t see clearly. He gently blew, and the soft breeze brushed past her eyes as crystalline snowflakes drifted away from her eyelashes.

These clear eyes were completely revealed.

Some flowing emotion seemed about to emerge between them.

Like beneath glaciers, a black monster no one had ever seen was pressing toward them from afar. Just as this monster was about to break through the ice, he suddenly rolled to the side, lying in the snow beside her, and quietly looked at the sky.

Everything came to an abrupt halt.

Yet it was thoroughly satisfying, all grievances dissolved.

Nanyi waited for her inexplicably intense heartbeat to calm down, then gently turned to look at his profile.

“I know Pang Yu died by throwing himself on the sword. You tried to persuade him—you wanted to save him and find a chance to release him. And Song Muchuan too—you don’t want to harm him either, right?”

He kept his eyes on the sky, not answering.

“I won’t tell Xie Xiaoliu.” She said this very seriously.

He smiled—a very clean smile. He turned to look at her, but his eyes were so sad.

“You know many of my secrets.”

“What should we do then? Are you going to kill me?”

Her boldness today was extraordinarily great.

He reached out to brush the snow from her face. Being a martial artist, his palm immediately warmed, and where he touched felt like wildfire burning through dry grass.

He said: “Don’t betray me.”

A betrayer repeatedly telling her not to betray him.

The smile on Nanyi’s face slowly faded, finally settling into a stiff curve. She realized Xie Queshan was serious.

But what constituted betrayal? She had told many lies, helped others deceive him—did that count as betrayal? She tried to understand him but deep down wouldn’t stand on his side… did that also count as betrayal?

At any time, she would prioritize her own life. If at some unavoidable moment she had to sell him out—was that betrayal?

She began seriously considering this question and found herself completely lacking confidence.

“My mercy only extends once.”

The morning bell tolled, its sound echoing above Li Du Mansion.

Like a declaration, that cryptic game of survival was beginning again. He had only conditionally pardoned her.

Step across the line and be caught by him—it would still mean eternal damnation.