Meanwhile, at the Cloud Pavilion Inn, chaos erupted. The Seventh Master returned from arguing with someone only to discover that Xiao Shu was missing. He nearly devoured Hong Ce alive, circling him while cursing: “How’s that? You monopolized her, and now look—she’s gone! So search for her! Have you found her? Where are your men? Those who claim to walk on knife edges—turns out they’re just talking big, all wilting in the end! You criticize my lack of discipline, but how are you any better? Send everyone out to search! If they don’t find her, I’ll flay them alive!” He sat down, slapping his knees, lamenting with a mournful face, “Our Shu’er has grown so beautiful. What good can come of falling into traffickers’ hands? She’ll likely be sold as a concubine. To think of such a fine girl being defiled by those mud pigs and mangy dogs—my heart aches like it’s being cut with a knife… Child, why didn’t you have better judgment? How good it would have been to stay with me. I would have protected you…”

Hong Ce grew impatient. His mind was in such chaos he couldn’t find direction, and Old Seven was still buzzing around him. He turned his head with a sigh, instructing Ha Gang: “Deploy more men. Keep watch at every market—not just Suifenhe, but investigate all the surrounding camps. And the garrison—pass orders down to conduct strict inspections of everyone entering or leaving. No one is to leave Da Ying territory.”

The Seventh Master slapped the table. “Now you’re anxious? Where were you earlier? You took her with you, and now she’s gone. I’m only asking you to return her to me—give me back my Xiao Shu.”

He glared at him. “We went out together. Where was Seventh Brother then? Didn’t you say more people meant more help? You went off to compete in ice skating, and now that something’s happened, you’re being loud-mouthed about it?”

The Seventh Master was rendered speechless, choking before replying: “Who made her want to be with you? If she had come with me to place bets, perhaps she wouldn’t have been kidnapped.” Full of resentment, he turned his face away, muttering, “It’s fate. Blame her for being blind. Good men aren’t hard to find, yet she chose a deaf one! With the slightest trouble, he can’t even hear her crying for help… A cripple like you should remain single. Why think about taking a wife? Isn’t that harming others?”

Everyone has a soft spot that can’t be touched. Hong Ce was already burning with anxiety over losing her, and now the other was using his disability against him. Unable to contain his anger, he shouted: “Shut your mouth! I’m more anxious than you about her disappearance. We love each other—who are you to interfere? Did you run off to fool around and blame her for not joining your tantrum? Yes, I’m deaf. I’m a deaf man! But deaf for whom? Was it my choice? I was ruined by others—who can I go to for justice?” Furious to the extreme, he was like a taut bow, his face filled with ferocity. “If I can’t find her, I’ll spend the rest of my life in Ninguta. Please, Seventh Brother, take a message back—consider me dead. This person never existed!”

He stormed off, the curtain behind him flinging high. He never wanted to see Hong Tao again. What could that man do besides complain? With Ding Yi missing, no one in the world could be more distressed than him. Looking at his heart now, he truly wanted to find a place to sob uncontrollably. He had always hoped to meet someone good, to spend a lifetime with her. Since childhood, he had lacked familial affection. Growing up, he tried every way to disguise himself, not appearing downcast, and not letting others see him as pathetic or pitiful. But heaven knows how lonely he was.

His world was silent. He hoped for someone who understood him as a companion. Ding Yi had suffered; so had he. Two people sharing the same pain could warm each other. Her appearance made him grateful. Just when he thought he had finally found peace, why must he endure so many more hardships? He truly hated himself for letting her be taken away right under his nose. Could she ever forgive him? He was unreliable. He had power and authority only to give orders. Without those slaves at his command, he was nothing. Just as Old Seven said, he was useless. He had failed her.

Distraught, he went to Ding Yi’s bedroom, his feet staggering without strength. Entering the room, he closed the door behind him, leaned against the lattice, and gradually slid down until he collapsed. Hugging his knees, burying his face in the crook of his arm, he felt an overwhelming pain in his chest that he could neither grasp nor soothe. Where was she? Lu Yuan’s men had surrounded and interrogated the dance troupe, questioning them half the night to no avail. In his anxiety, he had imprisoned everyone, inevitably subjecting them to severe torture. Yet many seemed lost in the fog, some even unable to remember what they had done earlier—likely drugged by someone. So was this another unsolvable case? Had this place become so chaotic? He struck the blue brick with his fist, still not venting his anger, hitting repeatedly until the intact brick shattered into pieces. He didn’t feel the pain of brick fragments embedded in his flesh—no pain could exceed losing her.

He leaped up, calling loudly for Dai Qin: “We can’t wait until the second day of the New Year. Tell Lu Yuan to cast the net. Arrest Suo Lun Tu and Yue Kunde one by one. Once caught, bring them to me immediately. Take my token and order the Assistant Commander to mobilize the garrison. No place within a hundred li should be overlooked. Dig three feet into the ground if necessary to find her. Notify the Jilin Wula Mergen General to assist in the investigation. All travelers in each area must be checked. Detain anyone suspicious… She cannot leave this place. If we let even a finger’s width slip, she might be sold to foreign lands.”

Dai Qin saw that his master was not himself but dared not say more. He simply answered “Yes” and withdrew to carry out the orders.

He returned to the table, staring blankly at the oil lamp, his mind a jumble of thoughts. Why had she been kidnapped? Was it simply for trafficking, or was some unseen opponent planning to use her to threaten him? He covered his forehead with his hand—it was burning hot—finding no relief. Without knowing her whereabouts, he could accomplish nothing. If he lost her forever, he didn’t know how long he could endure.

The lamplight flickered. He narrowed his eyes watching it, and after a long while, the world began to spin. Before his eyes were only her shadows. In a confused state, he dreamed she had returned, soaking wet, her lips purple from cold, saying pitifully, “I’m cold.” His heart clenched as he hurried to embrace her, but just as he touched the hem of her clothes, she vanished. He stood with his hands hanging, the scene from the Suisu River reappearing. Even now, recalling it exhausted him mentally and physically.

With a jolt, he awoke. Dawn was approaching. Looking out the window, a faint green light rose from the horizon. He had no idea how he had endured this night. He paced restlessly in the room, waiting anxiously for news. Sha Tong entered through the curtain, bringing tea and snacks, approaching to say: “Master has waited all night. I fear your body cannot withstand it. In such cold weather, you can’t remain empty-stomached. Your servant has found some cakes. Please have some milk to warm your body so you can better handle matters.”

He shook his head, covering his face with a long sigh. “It’s my fault. The Seventh Master is right—I’m useless, unable to handle matters. I am without a blessing. I hate myself for allowing this mishap. A living person disappeared in the blink of an eye…”

Sha Tong said: “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Lord Ha and the others have all gone out. Suifenhe is a small place—troops are checking everywhere. The news will come sooner or later. Please be patient, master. Your servant feels for you. Look at your red eyes. Have some refreshments and rest on the kang for a while. We’ll keep watch outside for you. Take care of yourself. When Miss Wen returns, she would be distressed to see you so haggard.”

Mentioning her was like a needle in his heart. He closed his eyes briefly, standing there no longer as upright as before, slightly hunched, pressing his hands on the windowsill.

“Prepare a squad for me,” he pointed outside. “I just remembered, she once told me that Yue Kunde behaved strangely. Perhaps finding him will lead to her whereabouts.”

Sha Tong quickly intervened: “Commander Dai has already gone with men—on your orders—to arrest Suo Lun Tu and Yue. Have you forgotten, master?”

He uttered an “Oh” and stepped back. “My head is spinning badly. I did forget.” Not knowing what else to do, he paced in circles. Sha Tong was at a loss to advise him, bowing and following step by step: “Master, won’t this circling make you dizzy? Please rest for a while. Anxiety won’t bring Miss Wen back. Let’s take it slowly. Sit down, and lie down for a bit. Later, when Yue is caught, you’ll need to interrogate him personally.”

He paused hesitantly. He wasn’t one to ignore the advice. He slowly moved to the kang, falling backward without bending his knees. With a thud, Sha Tong felt pain in the back of his head just hearing it.

The master had become like this—this thing called love truly harmed people deeply. He approached to open the kang cabinet and pull out a blanket for him. Seeing that although not entirely peaceful, his master had at least closed his eyes, Sha Tong silently tiptoed out.

Half dreaming, half awake, his mind remained tense, feeling at any moment she might return—he could even see clearly how she would push aside the curtain. He struggled to wake up, only to find the room empty, his heart filled with desolation. He covered his eyes with the back of his hand, gripping the bedding with the other, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep again. After an unknown length of time, the window paper gradually whitened, darkening then brightening again. Vaguely, a shadow moved, which he assumed was another illusion. He dared not open his eyes, fearing that upon opening them, it would prove to be just another dream. Yet the shadow stopped before his kang, and cold fingertips reached out, touching his cheek.

He awoke with a start, sitting up to look at the person before him, exclaiming in surprise: “Ding Yi? Is this a dream?”

She pressed her finger to his lips, turning to sit on the edge of the kang, moving closer: “It’s not a dream. I’ve returned. Earlier, I was searching for you among the dance troupe but unexpectedly went farther and farther away. Later, trying to return, I encountered some difficulties.” She pointed to the watermarks on her knees, pouting: “Look, even my skirt and shoes are wet. I’m feeling cold.” She pushed him. “Move over a bit. Let me warm up against you.”

After spending so much effort searching without finding her, she had just returned like this, without alerting anyone outside. Hong Ce was puzzled, but he didn’t care about that now. She was back—that was good. His heart could finally rest. Still suspecting he was dreaming, he moved over in a daze, making space for her. Watching her remove her outer garment, her delicate shoulders faintly visible beneath her undershirt, he was at a loss but still extended his hand to help her.

Without any coyness, she slipped into his embrace like a swimming dragon, as if long familiar with it. She tightly embraced his waist, taking a deep breath and smiling: “So warm. I love your scent… Hong Ce, do I look like a wild spirit to you?”

Her behavior was somewhat strange, but she was hardly a spirit. Since she was already in his arms, not knowing how to release the emotions filling his heart, he turned over, pinning her down, pressing his forehead against hers, on the verge of tears: “Where did you go? I nearly turned Suifenhe upside down. Do you know how I spent this night? Without you, I was going mad… I was going insane…” He kissed her wildly. “Never leave me again. Stay by my side. You’re not allowed to go anywhere.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him away, not responding to his words. She turned to unfasten the gilt buttons on his jacket: “Why didn’t you take off your clothes before sleeping? Lying down fully dressed will make you catch cold.” She continued softly, “I didn’t have an easy time either. I missed you too. Not finding you made me afraid. It was so dark outside, the land so vast. Alone, I couldn’t tell directions, so I walked for a long time… But I’m back now. I’m sorry. It was my fault. I was confused.”

She kissed his earlobe, warm body temperature, trembling slightly beneath two layers of thin clothing due to nervousness. The first ray of sunlight of the new year refracted through the Korean paper on the window, falling directly on her bright brow. She looked at him more intently than ever: “When will we marry? I can’t wait.”

His heart pounded rapidly, a thin layer of sweat forming on his face. Striving for self-control, he said: “Once we return to Beijing. I’ve submitted a memorial. I’ll welcome you into my home with proper matchmaking.”

She smiled, pressing her lips together: “Truly proper matchmaking?”

He nodded: “Definitely.”

She sighed deeply: “Having your word is enough for me. After drifting for over ten years, I can finally have a home. I’m happy.”

She extended her finger to trace his brows and eyes, committing every detail to memory. As she traced, tears welled up. She quickly turned away, burying her tears in the pillow.

He embraced her waist, feeling alarmed at not seeing her face. Everything felt like a dream, hazy yet undeniably real. He found her hand, intertwining their fingers, squeezing firmly: “What’s wrong? What happened to you tonight? We still have a lifetime to spend together. If something’s troubling you, don’t hide it from me. Did I disappoint you last night? I’ll be more careful in the future. I will never let you be alone again.”

She shook her head, her hair tips brushing against his face, tickling him. After a slight pause, she said: “It was just an accident. How could there be a next time? You don’t know—being separated from you made me feel like I would never be well again. I wonder if you might marry someone else in the future. If I were lost and one day returned, standing at the street corner watching a grand wedding procession entering your home… You deserve someone better. As long as she respects and loves you, I wouldn’t be jealous.”

“What nonsense are you talking?” he rebuked her softly. “If you were lost, I would still submit the memorial. The position of Princess Consort would always be reserved for you. I will wait for your return. I know you would come back because you can’t bear to leave me.”

She laughed at his words, though it was hard to tell whether the flavor in her smile was joy or sorrow. “I don’t think that way. If I couldn’t return, I hope you would forget me. Life is so long—you need a companion to care for you. There are many brilliant girls in the world. Someone of your worth should choose someone of equal status. A father-in-law with high standing would be a support to you… Someday, sitting in the shade of a great tree, if you suddenly remember that once there was a girl disguised as a boy who crossed paths with you, it would be enough that I loved you.”

He grew increasingly alarmed, trying to find answers in her face: “What’s wrong with you? Why do you keep saying such strange things?”

She fell silent, unable to go back on her promise to Third Brother. She trusted the Twelfth Master, but Ru Jian couldn’t. She couldn’t risk the life of her last remaining brother.

“I’m just too afraid, overthinking things, being superstitious. Don’t take it to heart,” she said, stroking his temples, repeatedly and patiently. “My dearest people are you and my master. After we marry, will you help me take care of my master?”

He readily agreed: “Of course. The old man has worked hard. We’ll gradually repay these years of kindness, ensuring his twilight years are free from worries about food and clothing.”

She nodded with a smile. If that was the case, there was nothing more to worry about. She wasn’t important—as long as everyone else was well, there was nothing she couldn’t sacrifice.

Lying so close, a woman’s body and a man’s body were each half-circles, only complete when joined together. The beauty and trembling of the first time could be remembered for a lifetime, though she never expected it would happen here. This small inn in a border town carried all her joy, hesitation, and sorrow.

The dawn light moved over, dancing as it fell on his shoulder. Her tears flowed endlessly as she sobbed, pressing her lips against his neck: “Hong Ce, don’t be sad…”