No wonder she was so easily swayed. From hundreds of years ago, Ruyi had always found those little things that called her “sister” to be quite adorable, able to soften her heart somewhat.

Back then, the reason A’jue had survived among those seventy-eight attendants wasn’t primarily because he was good-looking, but because he had knelt before her, timidly calling out “sister.”

A delicate, beautiful young man treating you as his only support, softly calling to you, always wanting to lean against your legs—who could resist that?

Hundreds of years later, hearing this address come from his mouth again today, Ruyi couldn’t help but sigh at how time flies and years pass like shuttles.

She smiled and patted Wei Zijue’s shoulder, saying to him: “I’ll have someone prepare hot water for you. Go bathe and change clothes—it will be warmer.”

There was no more sound outside. With that person’s pride, he would never stand in the snow.

Wei Zijue nodded, holding her hand and sitting for quite a while before reluctantly going upstairs.

Once the main hall was empty, the cold wind swept in from behind.

Ruyi wasn’t surprised at all. She didn’t even turn her head, allowing that person to wrap his arms around her waist and sweep her out through the window.

It was very cold outside, and she sneezed.

The person behind her, radiating anger, seemed not to hear. He obstinately carried her up to the second floor from the outer wall, but intentionally or not, his fox fur cloak wrapped her inside.

Next door was the sound of a servant pouring water into a bathtub. Shen Qiyuan latched the window and pressed her against the light-filtering decorative window.

Ruyi chuckled, lazily and calmly meeting his anger.

There was no expression on his face, but his entire being was brooding and heavy. He pressed down on her, his knuckles cracking.

“Sister,” he mockingly parroted.

Ruyi stroked the side of his face: “Good boy.”

He immediately bit down on her fingertip.

Sharp pain shot through her. She hissed lightly but didn’t dodge, only looked down at him and said softly: “They say those who achieve divinity are empty of joy and anger. Why is Your Lordship always getting angry?”

“Am I angry?” He released her fingertip, smiling without warmth. “No.”

Hot steam from the bathroom next door wafted over, misting his eyes: “The hot water heated in half an hour is only enough for one person. What should we do, sister? I’m cold too.”

Ruyi narrowed her eyes. Before she could expose his trick, she felt a chill at her waist.

“My lord,” she stopped his movement, “this matter should flow naturally. If you want to use it to compete with someone, I’m not interested in accompanying you.”

“Is it that you don’t want to compete, or are you afraid he’ll hear?” He closed his eyes, moving around her hand.

Ruyi clicked her tongue.

How unreasonable this person became when angry.

In their struggle, he pressed against her collarbone, his eye sockets somewhat moist with heat.

Ruyi was startled, then sighed helplessly.

She would always surrender to a young man calling her “sister” and to a beauty’s falling tears.

So be it.

As her consciousness gradually became hazy, Ruyi heard the person above her ask: “If both he and I were freezing to death in this cold winter, and you only had one cloak, who would you give it to?”

Even as he asked this childish question, he regretted it. But regret aside, he still stubbornly looked at her, waiting for her answer.

Ruyi smiled. She hooked her arms around his neck and pulled him to her lips, whispering: “The cloak to him, myself to you.”

Both could save a life.

Shen Qiyuan was stunned for a moment, then bit her hard in retaliation.

Cunning demon, shameless demon!

Half an hour later, Wei Zijue came downstairs still warm from his bath, only to see Shen Qiyuan already sitting calmly beside Ruyi.

He had come by carriage, naturally not suffering from wind and snow, and there was even a trace of spring color between his brows.

Wei Zijue’s face darkened. He pressed his lips together and walked over, sitting on Ruyi’s left side.

“Lord Shen came rather late,” he spoke first.

Shen Qiyuan raised his sleeve and sipped tea: “It was the Commander who bathed rather slowly.”

Their eyes met, and the air seemed to ignite with a small flame.

In such an atmosphere, anyone else sitting in the middle would inevitably feel anxious, but Ruyi sat in her chair comfortably and at ease, looking at the left side with satisfaction, then at the right side with amusement, exactly like someone who had come to appreciate flowers.

“We previously arranged to visit my manor to see plum blossoms,” Wei Zijue extended his hand toward Ruyi. “Going now shouldn’t be too late.”

Shen Qiyuan sneered: “Who in Lin’an doesn’t know that Shen Manor’s plum blossoms stretch for three li? What’s so good about seeing them elsewhere?”

Ruyi raised her hand: “Stop.”

She smiled at Wei Zijue: “I’m afraid I can’t go out today. I’m still waiting for news from Fuman and the others.”

Then she turned to Shen Qiyuan: “It’s not really about seeing flowers anyway. The flowers aren’t important.”

Shen Qiyuan looked at her, dark colors churning in his eyes, his thin lips pressed together, his appearance captivating.

Ruyi was momentarily dazzled: “I mean, the Shen Manor flowers are certainly worth seeing too.”

Only then did he nod, fingering the collar of the fox fur cloak she wore.

In the thick atmosphere of gunpowder, there was finally movement outside the door.

Ruyi stood up and saw He Tinglan running in breathlessly, grabbing her and saying, “This client is unreasonable. It looks like murder, but he insists we say it’s suicide.”

“What happened?” Ruyi poured her a cup of tea.

He Tinglan gulped it down and frowned: “Lord Yun’s wife is dead, killed by a single knife thrust from behind. The knife is one Lord Yun commonly uses. He won’t admit it, insisting he wasn’t in the main house that day, and wants to force Fuman and Yanning to testify for him. Yanning saw things going badly and had me come back first to report.”

Ruyi frowned: “He dares not report such a case to the Ministry of Justice?”

“If it were murder, it would naturally need to be reported to the Ministry of Justice, but he believes it’s suicide. A wife’s suicide is a family matter—he can indeed request private counsel for judgment.” Shen Qiyuan stood up, looking at Ruyi. “I won’t go over, lest he panic and destroy more evidence. You go take a look.”

Wei Zijue also stood: “I’ll go with you. Yuncheng wouldn’t dare do anything to me.”

Shen Qiyuan impatiently raised his sleeve to block him: “Even I can’t go—what do you think you can do? We’re both officials; it’s inappropriate to get involved.”

“But Miss Liu is, after all, a woman. If there’s danger in going like this…”

He stopped mid-sentence because the person across from him was full of mockery.

Besides mockery, there seemed to be some smugness too.

“That’s how he sees you,” Shen Qiyuan said to Ruyi.

Hundreds of years of companionship had turned to ashes in reincarnation. The current Wei Zijue understood Liu Ruyi less than half as well as he did.

Ruyi waved her hand: “Don’t worry about me. I’ll go and come right back.”

She left in a hurry, leaving Wei Zijue standing there, somewhat flustered.

He had only known Miss Liu for a few days, far from having Shen Qiyuan’s confidence.

The person beside him stood calmly, saying carelessly, “In your eyes, she’s an ordinary woman. In mine, she’s not.”

“True enough.” Wei Zijue steadied himself and smiled. “Lord Shen is somewhat older than I, so naturally has more experience. Old ginger is always spicy—I just wonder whether sister prefers the old or the young?”