“A-Jin, thank you.”

“We’re friends, there’s no need for thanks. As long as you like it, that’s all that matters.”

“Of course I like it.”

Lian Que held the sword and swung it a few more times.

It felt increasingly natural in his hand.

He said, “A-Jin, when I grow up, I will definitely protect you. If anyone dares to harm you, I’ll fight them to the death with this sword.”

“Alright!”

The memories surged into his heart, and Lian Que couldn’t help but feel his eyes moisten.

Yet in truth, he rarely cried.

The only time he remembered crying was during the civil war in Huyi, when A-Jin disappeared.

He cried for a very, very long time…

And that sword—he had kept it by his side all along.

For more than twenty years, he had never replaced it.

He firmly believed that one day, he would wait for A-Jin to return!

No wonder Bai Yin and Jingrong had said before that they seemed to have seen him somewhere.

It turned out they had known each other all along!

…

Ji Yunshu returned once more to the Wenmo Studio.

She selected a fine brush.

Holding it in her hand, she examined it carefully.

The shopkeeper knew she had left earlier with the Marquis of Nanguo, so they must be acquaintances.

He couldn’t help asking, “Young master, from your appearance you don’t seem to be from Gaoding. How did you come to know Master Ke?”

She said, “Business dealings.”

“Oh? What kind of business are you in, young master?”

“I paint portraits of the dead!”

The shopkeeper froze for a moment.

Thinking she was joking.

Painting portraits of the dead—this was the first time he’d heard of such a thing.

“Young master, don’t jest. If you’re in such a business, how could Master Ke have business dealings with you?”

He didn’t believe it.

However—

Ji Yunshu suddenly had a flash of inspiration. She twirled the brush in her hand and asked, “Since you say Master Ke wouldn’t do business with someone who paints portraits of the dead, then who does he do business with?”

“Naturally with things related to literature and ink.”

“Oh? Then it seems this Master Ke is a person of scholarly refinement.”

“Are you joking? Master Ke is the Marquis of Nanguo of our Huyi, everyone in Gaoding knows him!”

Eh!

She was shocked!

The Marquis of Nanguo?

The shopkeeper called, “Young master? Young master?”

“Ah?” She snapped back to attention.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing!” Ji Yunshu gently shook her head.

But the brush spinning in her hand suddenly lost its balance and slipped from her grasp.

It fell toward the ground.

By the time she reacted, it was too late.

Yet she caught a glimpse of a hand reaching out, steadily catching the brush.

Following the hand upward, she saw Jingrong’s face close before her eyes.

“You…”

How did you get here?

Before these words could leave her mouth, Jingrong handed the brush to the shopkeeper and said, “Wrap it up.”

The shopkeeper was stunned!

Where did this person come from?

Jingrong then took out silver and placed it before him, coldly urging, “Hurry.”

“Oh, yes.”

The shopkeeper quickly found a box and placed the brush inside.

He handed it to him.

Jingrong took it with one hand, and with the other pulled Ji Yunshu’s hand as they left.

Heavy snow was still falling.

He held an umbrella, pulling her close to his side.

Two figures, one tall and one short, stood beneath the umbrella.

Their footsteps, one deep and one shallow, imprinted on the thick snow.

Ji Yunshu looked up and asked him, “How did you get here?”

He looked at her and said, “How could I be at ease with you going out alone?”

“I just came out to buy a brush.”

“I said I wouldn’t leave you alone.”

Her heart was moved.

She smiled slightly.

Then asked, “By the way, how did your search with Bai Yin go?”

“No news.”

They had found nothing.

Ji Yunshu said, “Since Young Master Cheng has already agreed to help us, as long as I help him solve the case, he will definitely help us find Cha He.”

Jingrong didn’t speak.

His thoughts were heavy.

Seeing that his expression wasn’t right, Ji Yunshu changed the subject. “I met someone today.”

“…”

“Ke Cha!”

Jingrong had an impression. His footsteps slowed a bit as he said, “The person who gave you the jade pendant.”

“Mm.”

“How did you run into him?”

“Just now, he was also at the Wenmo Studio. Afterward, I went with him to a teahouse for a brief chat. I also saw that child.”

“The child from the cesarean birth?”

“He’s already two years old now, grown quite a bit.” Her face carried a smile.

“So… did you also mention what happened at the ruined temple?” Jingrong asked.

“I brought it up briefly, but judging from his expression and tone, he seemed completely unaware. It appears he might truly have no connection to those people.” Ji Yunshu wasn’t entirely certain.

Jingrong also looked confused.

Ji Yunshu continued, “Just now when chatting with that shopkeeper, guess what I learned?”

“What?”

“That Master Ke is the Marquis of Nanguo.”

Jingrong’s eyes tightened, and his expression darkened slightly. After a brief silence, he said, “When we first met him, didn’t we already suspect as much? Someone who would have peacock tail feathers on their person is either imperial family or nobility.”

“That’s true!”

“Don’t overthink it. Let’s go back first.”

“Mm.”

After returning, having bought the brush, Ji Yunshu wasted no more time and began painting.

Jingrong remained outside, keeping watch.

He stood beneath the eaves, watching the snow.

He stood guard like this until evening.

Song Zhi came over carrying two bowls of porridge he had personally prepared.

“Master Jing, you’ve been standing here for so long. You should go back inside.”

Jingrong glanced back at Ji Yunshu, who was painting, and said, “It’s fine!”

“Why don’t you drink some hot porridge? I just made it.”

He handed him one of the bowls.

Jingrong accepted it.

“I’ll take one in for Master Ji.”

Just as he was about to go in, Jingrong stopped him.

“No need.”

“But Master Ji has been painting for so long without eating anything. How can her body endure it?”

“If you go in now, you’ll disturb her. And besides, she won’t drink it until she’s finished.”

“Master Ji really works too hard.”

You haven’t seen her when she’s really pushing herself!

Song Zhi had no choice but to let it go.

Jingrong barely touched the porridge. After one sip, he set it aside, where it gradually cooled.

Song Zhi didn’t leave. He stood with Jingrong for a while.

The two men stood beneath the eaves, looking up at the falling snowflakes.

The white snow reflected the surrounding lanterns, glimmering with points of starlight.

Like the starry sky of July or August.

Exceptionally beautiful.

After a long while—

Song Zhi said, “Sometimes, I actually quite envy you both.”

“Envy?”

“Yes!”

“What do you envy?”

Song Zhi thought for a moment. “I don’t really know, but I just envy you both very much.”

Jingrong smiled slightly.

Yet it carried a trace of desolation.

He asked, “Master Song, have you ever been forced to walk a path you absolutely didn’t want to take?”

Hm?

Song Zhi froze.

He began to seriously consider this question.

Though he was poor, he had never been forced to walk a path he didn’t wish to take.

Even when so poor he had no rice for the pot, he still refused to write vulgar scripts for money.

So everything had been of his own will.

He shook his head.

No!

Jingrong asked him again, “Then have you ever been utterly helpless, to the point where even brotherly bonds became meaningless?”

He shook his head again.

“Then have you ever… been unable to protect even your closest brother, only able to watch helplessly as everything was destroyed?”

His tone was desolate.

Song Zhi had experienced none of these things. He shook his head.

He said, “But I have experienced all of these.”

Song Zhi remained silent.

“So then, what is there for you to envy about me?”

Leaving these words behind.

Jingrong walked away.

Song Zhi stood frozen in place, as if he still hadn’t fully processed what had been said.