The fierce wind was bitter, snowflakes cutting like knives against their faces. The black night swallowed everything, the clear snow turning the world into a vast white expanse where directions became indiscernible. This deep night stretched endlessly, making each moment feel like torturous agony. Across these boundless snowy forests and streams, two agile servants carried a gentleman running furiously for several li, leaving the pursuing soldiers increasingly far behind.

The gentleman they carried remained motionless, rigid as an ice sculpture. Yet his eyes were blood-red, as if about to drip blood.

An abandoned Taoist temple appeared in their view, standing lonely in the wilderness. Due to its remote location, the temple had been deserted for who knows how long. The two servants’ eyes lit up as they carried their master into the temple. After landing in the pitch-black, cobweb-filled main hall and listening carefully for any pursuing forces, the two servants breathed sighs of relief. But as they turned around, crisp slaps suddenly struck their faces.

“Slap—”

One slap each, with fierce force, sending both men’s faces sideways as they stumbled back two steps.

Finally able to move, Fan Silang Fan Qingchen stared at these two men with eyes nearly bursting from their sockets, his gaze like that of a fierce beast about to devour someone. His arm was severely wounded, half his robe stained black with blood, Fan Qingchen’s raised arm trembled, his face taut, veins throbbing. His expression, too tightly wound and emotions too intense, made his handsome features momentarily appear fierce and distorted.

Fan Qingchen kicked again, knocking the two to the ground. He was like the world’s most vicious master, treating servants he viewed as worthless grass. The servants’ lives meant nothing in his eyes as he kicked and beat them, his face twisted, looking at these two as if they were his father’s murderers. Rolling sounds came from Fan Qingchen’s throat, his voice harsh and breathing violent:

“Who told you to act on your own? Who told you to strike my pressure points!”

“You abandoned her, actually abandoned Sister Luo!”

He was savage, his chest tight, eyes blood-red, and under such extreme emotion, tears he struggled to hold back nearly burst from his eyes: “Do you know what you’ve done! I told you to save her! You harmed her!”

The two servants, fearless against enemies, remained loyal servants at heart. Facing their master’s punches and kicks, they merely knelt steadily: “The Master ordered us two to protect young master…”

“I don’t need it!” Even a noble gentleman like Fan Qingchen would use such crude words. He grabbed one’s collar, about to strike again when his injured arm went numb with pain, making his whole body tremble. “She is my life, she is my most beloved… go back, go back and save her, save her!”

Fan Qingchen had gone mad, the string of rationality in his mind suddenly snapping. The black night, endless snow, enemy soldiers stronger than her everywhere. How could she survive? How could she withstand those blood-thirsty men?

She would be humiliated, would die… like all those beauties throughout history who died innocently in men’s battles, their jade essence scattered like smoke…

He had finally snatched her from Lu Yun’s hands, secretly taking her from Nanyang, wanting to marry her, take her to the Northern country… yet he had abandoned her! Abandoned her to those men who watched her like hungry wolves!

Fan Qingchen’s face twisted further. Unable to use his arm, he kicked without mercy, wanting to kill these two servants who had made decisions for him. He had completely lost his mind, his foot striking joints and bones, hearing crisp sounds of breaking bones. But he didn’t care, he wanted to kill these two!

Voices were vague in his ears: “Young master, young master, please calm down…”

Fan Qingchen’s heartfelt cut by knives, his mind empty. He hatefully beat the men before him, then suddenly ran out of the temple like a madman, his whole body shaking. The young master stumbled through the snow down a sloping path. He fell, and got up again, his head and face covered in snow. That grey emptiness, that feeling of having lost everything, that lady’s face constantly appearing before him…

Fan Qingchen laughed miserably, clawing at the snow that tripped him, laughing and choking, coughing up blood: “Sister Luo! Sister Luo… wait for me, I’ll save you, I’ll save you…”

He collapsed on the ground in agony like a madman: “I was too weak, I couldn’t protect you… Sister Luo, Sister Luo…”

Behind him, the two servants supported each other as they limped out, watching Fan Silang run through the snow like a madman. Shock showed in their eyes as they ignored their injuries to run down and support their master.

More mindless beating and cursing!

The words are even more insulting and intense!

As Fan Qingchen collapsed in this state of breakdown, he suddenly looked up along with his two servants, hearing hoofbeats like thunder from heaven. The hoofbeats shook the ground, coming closer from afar, vast and mighty. Fan Qingchen’s face remained wooden, but the two servants turned deathly pale, their bodies tensing as they desperately shielded their maddened master, wary of the approaching riders — had the pursuers caught up?

Why were they so relentlessly persistent? Had they recognized their master’s identity?

As the hoofbeats drew near and they saw thousands of troops, the two servants grew even more desperate. They were almost ready to fight to the death to give their master a chance to escape when suddenly they realized the person at the front of the approaching army was not the enemy vanguard leader they had seen earlier.

These soldiers wore the armor of the Southern army!

Looking at the two gentlemen at the very front — one a young man, majestic and stern, with iron-blooded bearing and a hint of ferocity in his eyes, though now merely looking over carelessly. The other gentleman was graceful and handsome, with looks and bearing rarely seen in the world.

The two servants murmured:

“Third Young Master Lu…”

In today’s Nanyang, who among the great families didn’t know the new governor, Third Young Master Lu from Jianye?

Lu Yun looked down from his horse, his knife-sharp gaze meeting that of Fan Silang kneeling in the snow, disheveled and wretched. Fan Qingchen’s expression immediately tensed, encountering Lu Yun now as if meeting a great enemy, while also feeling a sense of absurd destiny.

Fan Qingchen’s breathing suddenly quickened.

At this, Prince Liu Mu of Hengyang, who had been indifferent before, also looked over. Liu Mu’s eyes fell on Fan Qingchen, studying his clothing and appearance: “You know this person?”

He was asking Lu Yun beside him.

In a flash, Lu Yun’s expression changed rapidly. In almost a single breath, encountering Fan Qingchen like this in the wilderness, he keenly guessed the cause and effect without the need for explanation. This handsome gentleman’s face suddenly went cold, the killing intent in his eyes toward Fan Qingchen unconcealed.

The gentleman’s suddenly tensed muscles, the veins standing out on the back of his hand gripping the reins… made Liu Mu beside him think Lu Yun was about to dismount and directly kill this person they had happened upon.

But Lu Yun merely asked coldly: “Which direction?”

An abrupt, inexplicable question. At least it made the Prince of Hengyang’s face darken, having asked Lu Yun a question but received no answer.

Fan Qingchen laughed bitterly, thinking Third Young Master Lu deserved his reputation – seeing him, he had guessed the general situation. Fan Qingchen’s chest felt tight, his vision darkening as he tremblingly pointed in a direction. Lu Yun spurred his horse, turning to leave while quickly ordering: “Leave men to watch these three. If these three escape, they’ll be dealt with by military law!”

He quickly rode back into the snowy forest, coming and going with such speed, not explained.

“General?” The troops behind looked questioningly at the Prince of Hengyang.

The Prince of Hengyang’s gaze fell thoughtfully on Fan Qingchen and his men for a moment before saying: “Follow Third Young Master Lu’s orders.”

He led the remaining troops to pursue Lu Yun, who had already doubled his speed—

It must be related to Luo Lingyu.

Lu Yun was always composed; in Jianye, even when Liu Mu had targeted him and the Prince of Chen several times, Lu Yun had never seemed anxious. These past few days, however, Liu Mu had often seen that hidden anxiety in Lu Yun. Liu Mu felt strange, constantly thinking:

Luo Lingyu, Luo Lingyu… what kind of woman was she, to drive all men mad?

Second Young Master Lu, Lu Xian; Third Young Master Qi, Qi An; Third Young Master Lu, Lu Yun; and now this strange gentleman seen tonight… all were more or less connected to Lady Luo.

Liu Mu felt great interest rising in his heart, along with an inexplicable sense of loss. That strange feeling made him think that originally he too could have, he too could have…

…

From nightfall until dawn, she fled desperately without stopping.

The wilderness gleamed with snow, which fell continuously from the sky, neither heavy nor light, making her body especially cold as she fled.

Luo Lingyu lay prone on horseback, her whole body shaking with the horse’s movements. Her face was deathly pale, her lips trembling, her teeth chattering. In the panic of escaping the temple, she had lost her great cloak. Thus throughout her flight, as the night deepened and the snow increased, by the time the sky began to lighten, she grew increasingly cold.

And the pursuing soldiers never stopped!

That leader personally led the pursuit!

Luo Lingyu was not skilled at horsemanship, or any activity requiring movement. On this escape route, she could only lie prone on the horse, the inside of her thighs that gripped the horse’s belly rubbed raw, the pain now numb. Her long hair had come loose in the jolting, black, and rich, framing the lady’s snow-like eyes and porcelain face.

Luo Lingyu’s trembling hand gripped a hairpin she had taken from her hair. Her horsemanship was too poor, while the enemy soldiers behind were too skilled, and at the same time, their horses were fierce, while her horse, after running day and night, was exhausted in spirit. To stimulate her horse, Luo Lingyu tightly gripped its mane with one hand to keep from being thrown off, while with the other hand, whenever the horse’s speed slowed, she viciously stabbed down with the hairpin.

The horse let out a piercing neigh, front hooves rising!

Luo Lingyu felt her internal organs compress as she was thrown about, her head spinning, consciousness dim.

But the horse’s speed increased!

She wasn’t the only one fleeing in this direction. Those lucky survivors who had been awakened by her shout, who had run from the temple to escape with her – some of these commoners were panicked and directionless. Seeing the beautiful noble lady ride out of the temple on horseback, they had frantically mounted horses themselves, following her tracks.

They regretted following this lady!

Because the Northern army’s leader personally gave chase!

The lady’s horse moved fastest, fleeing ahead of them, but their horses were constantly being caught by the army behind. These Northern soldiers were especially cruel, no longer giving them any chance. People screamed: “Don’t kill me, don’t kill me…”

Swords thrust forward, whips lashed out, and amid piercing screams, though the horses continued galloping, their riders were forcibly yanked down by iron chains from behind, and dragged to the ground. Some were killed by swords, others were dragged to death by enemy horses. The horses that had carried these commoners in their escape suddenly felt lighter, wandering confused in the snow, sniffing around, nudging the bloodstains on the ground with their noses.

The snow sea was endless, the constantly spreading blood becoming its only color.

That commoner woman who had tried to save herself by rashly pointing out Luo Lingyu was also riding a horse, fleeing along this road. Luo Lingyu heard her wretched cries from behind: “Spare me, don’t kill me, help…”

But though she had endured the humiliation in the temple, she didn’t survive this night.

Luo Lingyu turned her face with difficulty, vaguely seeing the long trail of blood drawn out behind, the dead woman’s clothes torn open, her snow-white chest and long legs exposed to the open air, intestines dragged out from her abdomen. That woman had been willing to drag the innocent Luo Lingyu down to save her own life, but heaven was fair, retribution came naturally… Luo Lingyu’s pupils contracted as she turned away her gaze, expressionless.

Wild laughter continued from the army behind: “Stop! Keep running, and you’ll end up like these people!”

Luo Lingyu paid no attention. Her iron will and cold-bloodedness in the face of danger surprised the pursuing soldiers. Hearing so many crying voices behind her, and seeing the woman’s terrible death, this lady acted as if she hadn’t seen anything, not stopping even once.

Not only did she not stop, she stabbed another hairpin into the horse’s belly.

Her mount, enraged, ran even faster!

The civilians following behind grew fewer and fewer, and the pleas of companions grew scarcer, while the enemy’s hoofbeats pursued relentlessly. The sky was dark and hazy, only the snow’s gleam showing the path ahead; then the sky gradually brightened, but her hands had grown stiff. The hairpin slipped from her hand, falling with a clear ding into the snow.

Luo Lingyu lay on the horse’s back, her breathing faint.

Hazily, her vision blurred, many shadows flashing past at once.

On the road from Ruyang to Nanyang, as Ruyang burned with war, she vaguely saw her younger self sneaking about, crying and stumbling among corpses and flames: “Father, Mother! Uncle, Aunt, Uncle, Aunt, Grandfather… where are you? I’m so scared.”

Sometimes she saw her small self carrying her little sister out from where she had been hiding in a water barrel, trembling and barely breathing. The wet nurse beside them could only cry about the young mistress’s death, while young Luo Lingyu carried her sister on her back, kneeling before people everywhere, begging them to save her sister…

“Please save her, I’ll be your ox or horse!”

“Please give us something to eat, I’ll do anything.”

If only someone had saved her parents when Ruyang fell; if only someone had saved their whole family.

Time always seemed to come full circle.

For those who had escaped death back then, heaven seemed to never give them another chance. Luo Lingyu pressed her lips together, her breathing growing weaker as she lay on the horse, her head beginning to ache. She thought herself truly fragile – back then so small, yet able to survive; now grown up, her body had become more delicate, such a small difficulty making her unable to hold on…

“Neigh—”

The horse beneath her suddenly shook madly as an arrow from behind struck its body. The horse convulsed, throwing the lady from its back. Luo Lingyu, head heavy, and feet light fell, her long hair filled with snow, snow spreading around her body. The relentlessly pursuing hoofbeats surrounded her in an instant. She sat collapsed in the snow, her body too stiff to move at all, looking up through the morning light to see the dark mass of enemy soldiers bearing down on her.

Some gazes held hatred, some showed amazement.

Though the lady had fallen to the ground, beauty was still a beauty. Long hair and snow-white skin, peach-blossom cheeks and powdered face, incomparably lovely, and even because of her disheveled clothes, because of her desperate appearance, the lady kneeling weakly on the ground made men’s blood surge wildly, creating a desire to inflict cruelty—

Such a beauty!

The leader shouted, jumping down from his horse first, and walking toward that lady.

Luo Lingyu raised her face, her body frozen stiff, but her mind clear. She didn’t know if she had spoken or made any expression, but she tried her best. Smiling gently, flatteringly, smiling so enchantingly it could steal souls. She blinked pitifully and said softly: “General, I’m willing to serve you, will you have them all withdraw?”

“General, I know some Southern military secrets. I want to tell the General, only asking for the General’s favor…”

The men’s gazes burned hot, and the leader especially lowered his head, gripping Luo Lingyu’s chin, and examining her face. After fleeing all night, the dirt on her face was long gone. The leader stared in a daze: “…Such incomparable beauty…”

How fortunate!

Eagerly grabbing Luo Lingyu’s shoulders, he pulled the frail lady into his arms. Whatever she said, he agreed to. Randomly saying “yes, yes, yes,” even the lady’s scattered black hair falling across his arm was so beautiful it made this Northern general tremble. He lowered his head wanting to taste her charm, when suddenly he heard the sound of an arrow cutting through the air.

In just an instant, everyone was shocked to see a black arrow shoot from behind, piercing through their general’s chest and lungs.

The soldiers suddenly spurred their horses around: “Who—”

Thousands of troops scattered around the snow plain in a circle, surrounding them.

That stern-faced gentleman holding a bow shot another arrow. The arrow entered the body of the man who had been pierced through the chest and abdomen, now collapsed on top of Luo Lingyu.

After this arrow, the gentleman coldly drew his bow again, releasing a third arrow. The dark arrow spun through the snow, striking in the same direction, as the same dead man…

…

Luo Lingyu gasped for breath, her body seeming to regain some warmth as she pushed away the heavy man lying on top of her.

She raised her snow-misted long lashes, staring dazedly.

The dark mass of the Southern army surrounded them, attacking these Northern vanguard troops. The young Prince of Hengyang charged at the front, leading the way. But Luo Lingyu collapsed in the snow and only saw Lu Yun. Saw Lu Yun shoot three consecutive arrows, killing the same man. Though the man was dead, his arrows still flew.

Across the vast rivers and mountains, in the boundless white snow, the gentleman came riding.

Just as in the great fog of Ruyang years ago, among the corpses everywhere, in the depths of despair, someone would break through the thick fog to save her.

She watched Lu Yun dismount and walk toward her. His features growing clearer, black eyes, snow-white robes. This era revered white, and Third Young Master Lu wore white robes and light fur, walking through the world’s dim light. No trace of his usual romantic air showed as he approached with a cold face, yet one couldn’t look away.

While Luo Lingyu lowered her gaze awkwardly, feeling ashamed and embarrassed as he approached, her self-esteem wounded. Both excited and grieved, not wanting him to see her in such a desperate state…

…

How she wished to be perfect, to leave him with even one perfect impression.

To make him love her to death.

…

Luo Lingyu lowered her head, at a loss, her fingers clutching the cold blood on the ground. Her gaze fell on the corpse lying in the blood pool beside her, and she instinctively panicked, wanting to flee.

She shrank back in rejection, but that gentleman crouched down and took her into his arms. She froze, already surrounded by the warm, intoxicating gentleman’s presence. Not Fan Silang’s unsettling presence, not the enemy soldiers’ nauseating presence, but the light, unique presence that belonged only to Lu Yun.

Lu Yun said softly: “Lingyu, I’m here, don’t be afraid. Do you hate me?”

Tears that had never appeared in the lady’s eyes suddenly fell. She felt herself shaking her head, but she was just being held tightly by Lu Yun, her face buried in his embrace, crying as he lifted her. She suddenly choked up, suddenly wept, and suddenly wanted to sob loudly.

That infinite grievance, that forever unattainable self-respect, that joy and confusion at seeing him… Luo Lingyu reached out her arms, embracing his neck: “Lu Yun!”