Song Zhi still hadn’t fully processed the three questions Jingrong had asked in succession.

First was about being forced.

Second was about siblings.

Third was about brothers.

His tone had been so helpless.

He had no idea what exactly Jingrong and the others had experienced.

But he knew that past must have been riddled with wounds, enough that even a tough man like Jingrong couldn’t get past it.

But what kind of story could it have been?

Confusion arose in his heart.

Yet it wasn’t appropriate to ask.

At this moment, the heavy snow grew heavier, and a few flakes were blown by the cold wind onto his head, shoulders, and clothes…

He gently brushed them away and wrapped his sleeves tighter around himself.

He was just about to leave…

But inadvertently glanced through the window from outside, and happened to see Ji Yunshu applying color to the painting.

She held the brush in one hand.

With the other, she lightly pinched her sleeve. Leaning forward slightly with downcast eyes examining closely, her long hair that hadn’t been tied up slipped slowly from behind over her shoulder and hung beside her arm. Those few strands of dark hair were lifted by the cold wind, dancing merrily like children wearing dancing shoes. At the same time, her fingertips holding the brush moved gently, and the fine brush gradually spread color across the paper, bright and beautiful.

The portrait in the painting was slowly being colored, becoming increasingly lifelike!

Although at this moment the painting still showed only a rough outline and a few touches of color, the woman’s features in the painting could be seen as delicate and refined.

Yet more beautiful than the painted figure was the person holding the brush and painting!

Ji Yunshu!

Song Zhi watched her, becoming increasingly entranced!

That man was truly handsome. Not only handsome, but with such fine, tender skin. How could this be a man’s appearance? Clearly this was a woman.

But Song Zhi’s mind didn’t work that way—his nature was extremely stubborn.

Seeing Ji Yunshu dressed in men’s clothing, he determined she was a man. Even though she looked like a woman, that was only resemblance.

He would never suspect she was actually female.

However—

After staring intently at Ji Yunshu for so long, his heart actually began to race.

This feeling was something he had never experienced before.

He touched his chest, pressing harder, trying to suppress his pounding heart.

But the more he did this, the faster it beat.

As if it might jump out of his mouth at any moment.

How terrifying!

He thought to himself—could it be… that he had fallen ill?

He was immediately alarmed.

Though he wasn’t afraid of death, he feared getting sick.

Especially that kind of half-dead illness.

First, it was suffering, and second, it burned through money.

He was so poor—where would he get money to see a doctor?

The more he thought about it, the more terrified he became.

He quickly withdrew his gaze from Ji Yunshu.

To prevent himself from being tortured to death by that feeling.

He took a breath.

“What’s wrong with me?” he muttered softly to himself.

Because the surroundings were very quiet, and he happened to be standing by the window.

So the small sound still disturbed Ji Yunshu, who was painting inside.

Her hand paused, and the fine brush immediately lifted from the paper surface.

Hearing the sound, she looked over and saw Song Zhi standing outside, one hand pressing against his chest, head lowered muttering something.

“Master Song? What’s the matter with you?”

“Uh!” Song Zhi looked up and met Ji Yunshu’s delicate gaze.

His heart, which had gradually calmed, violently jumped again.

As if it was about to leap out of his mouth once more.

Ji Yunshu frowned slightly.

Somewhat worried.

“Master Song? What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.”

“But you don’t look fine.”

“I… really am fine.” Song Zhi lowered his head, but his cheeks reddened. Whether from embarrassment or from being frozen, he said, “I came to bring you porridge.”

“Porridge?”

“But it’s already cold. If you want to drink it, I’ll go get you some hot porridge.” Song Zhi hastily picked up the two bowls of porridge that Jingrong had left to the side.

Ice cold!

Not a bit of warmth left.

They were even starting to freeze!

Ji Yunshu said, “No need, I’m not hungry.”

“You’ve been painting for so long, you should still rest a bit.”

“I’m fine.”

“Master Jing was right—when you paint, Master Ji, you truly can lose yourself in it.”

“Oh? Is that what he said about me?”

Song Zhi said, “Those weren’t his exact words, but… that’s basically what he meant.”

Ji Yunshu smiled slightly, her gaze looking outside. She remembered Jingrong had been there earlier, but now he was gone.

She asked, “By the way, where is Jingrong?”

Song Zhi pointed in a direction and said, “He already left.”

“Oh!”

“Well then… I won’t disturb you anymore. You continue painting. If you get hungry, just call for me and I’ll cook porridge for you.”

Seeing him standing at the window holding two ice-cold bowls facing her, Ji Yunshu found the scene quite amusing and quickly declined, “Really, there’s no need. It’s so cold outside, Master Song, you should go rest.”

“Alright, then I’ll go.”

Song Zhi inexplicably bowed to her.

Then left.

Ji Yunshu was momentarily stunned.

Why did it feel like Song Zhi was different from before?

But where the difference lay, she couldn’t figure out.

So—

She shook her head.

Never mind!

She began painting again.

Over these two days, she had roughly determined the deceased’s features.

There was basically no margin for error.

After all, she had painted many sketches of the deceased’s facial contours, molded many bone fragments from clay, and pieced them together bit by bit to create this portrait.

As long as nothing unexpected happened, once she finished applying the colors and made slow adjustments, it should be ready tomorrow or the day after.

…

The next day.

Pingyang Marquis Manor.

Today, Left Prime Minister Gong brought his son Gong Shilin to pay a personal visit.

He also brought many gifts.

To put it plainly, he had come to discuss his son’s marriage.

He also intended to have the two young people meet properly today.

Inside a carriage amid the heavy snow.

Gong Shilin sat beside his father, remaining silent.

He could only hear the sound of the carriage wheels crushing the accumulated snow outside.

Like sheets of paper being torn apart.

The cold wind howled, blowing in from outside, lifting the cloth curtain.

Gong Shilin hugged his arms, pressed his lips together, and watched his stern, unsmiling father for a good while.

Hesitating to speak.

Then—

Summoning his courage, he said, “Father, actually there’s no need to be so hasty.”

Hm?

Left Prime Minister Gong’s brows furrowed.

“What?”

“What your son means is, there’s no need to rush things today.”

“How can we not be hasty?”

“About my matter with Wenshu…”

Left Prime Minister Gong interrupted him. “I know this matter is indeed somewhat rushed, but since you like her, and our two families have been close for generations, this matter cannot be delayed. When we arrive at Pingyang Marquis Manor shortly, you must also pay attention yourself—you cannot lose propriety in your manners.”

His tone brooked no argument.

Gong Shilin never liked to explain.

So he could only say no more.

But his heart was filled with gloom.

That feeling was like someone constantly stirring at his heart, making him uncomfortable.

Did he truly love Li Wenshu?

Could he truly accept this?

But what if he didn’t love her?

What if he couldn’t accept it?

His and Li Wenshu’s fates had been determined long ago. It wasn’t something a simple “no” could change.