“The landscape here isn’t sufficient to nurture someone like you.”

Han Xu looked down at her, his eyes clear and bright.

“I’m not a clever person, but I’m not foolish either. Moreover, I’ve been to Peach Blossom Pool in Anhui Prefecture.”

Yan Sanhe was startled. “You…”

“Think again—what other business does our Han Family Fort have?”

Han Xu flicked her forehead. “You really think I had nothing better to do than travel thousands of li to follow you here?”

Han Family Fort had another business—gathering information.

Having been to Peach Blossom Pool, he naturally knew the Yan family had no granddaughter of her age.

“Yan Sanhe, who you are isn’t important. That you’re my friend Han Xu—that’s what’s important.”

Han Xu spoke unhurriedly. “Friends are meant to be treated with sincerity.”

Friends are meant to be treated with sincerity.

Yan Sanhe repeated this phrase in her heart. After a long while, she nodded as if conceding.

“I’m indeed not Yan Xing’s granddaughter.”

Between people, there’s not only fate but also an invisible aura.

Fate brings people together.

Aura allows people to connect deeply.

From the moment Yan Sanhe met Han Xu, she knew he was someone she could trust with her heart. This journey together through wind and rain had only confirmed this belief.

Not only could she trust him with her heart—she could rely on him.

“I’m someone who shouldn’t be alive in this world.”

Yan Sanhe pointed to her own head.

“I have no memories here. I’ve been searching for my own roots all along. You’re the second person to know this.”

“Looks like I’ll soon be on equal footing with Li Buyan.”

“Are you satisfied now?”

“Not satisfied.”

Han Xu narrowed his eyes. “I want to surpass her.”

Yan Sanhe laughed despite herself. “Watch out—she’ll hit you.”

“She wouldn’t bear to. She’s only sharp-tongued.”

Han Xu’s expression turned serious. “Yan Sanhe, I’ll help you find your roots—so long as it doesn’t endanger Han Family Fort.”

Yan Sanhe looked at him steadily.

“Why help me?”

“Because you’ve also helped me.” Helped me stand up.

Yan Sanhe wasn’t someone who dealt in empty courtesies. She pointed at Han Xu’s face. “Tear off that skin, let your face breathe, and I’ll agree.”

Half a quarter-hour later.

A face as bright and beautiful as spring appeared under the lamplight. Instantly, the entire room seemed to glow with radiant light.

So beautiful!

Yan Sanhe sighed inwardly.

…

In the following days, Yan Sanhe became busy.

She shut herself in Yan Xing’s study and began sorting through his belongings.

Actually, after Yan Xing’s coffin had split open, Yan Sanhe had already organized everything once to resolve his heart demon—especially those letters, which she’d read carefully one by one.

Reading them again, she found nothing unusual, so she shifted her attention to the books.

Yan Xing loved books. When he was exiled, he’d brought all his household’s books with him—enough to fill several carts.

Besides his study, two side rooms were also packed with books.

Yan Sanhe examined each book, turned each page, hoping to find something useful.

Han Xu didn’t help. He had his own tasks.

Yunnan Prefecture was remote and distant. For this trip, he’d brought account books from the branch covering nearly five years—he needed to audit them thoroughly.

Aunt Shi and the others brought delicious food every day. Back then, not only did Yan Xing teach without charging fees, he even gave away medicine when treating patients. Everyone in the village had received his kindness.

Mountain folk had simple, honest natures. When they received kindness, they wanted to repay it.

All this repayment fell on Yan Sanhe.

Days passed one after another. All three rooms’ worth of books were searched, yielding nothing.

This time, Yan Sanhe lost all appetite for food and paced circles in the courtyard.

Han Xu couldn’t bear to watch. As someone who escorted valuables, he knew very well where precious things were safest to hide.

“Are there any secret passages or hidden compartments in this residence?”

Yan Sanhe thought carefully and shook her head. She truly didn’t know.

“I’ll search.”

Han Xu pulled out his knife and tapped every inch of the residence.

Yan Sanhe found an iron rod and, learning from Han Xu, also tapped around.

A day passed with still no abnormalities.

Han Xu: “Looks like tomorrow we’ll have to dig three chi deep.”

The next day.

They found shovels and under cover of night dug through all the flower beds in front and back of the residence. Still nothing.

On the third day, Han Xu looked at the large beams in the main hall and had another idea.

“What about the beams? What about the gaps in the roof tiles?”

Yan Sanhe looked up, feeling the possibility was slim. “Grandfather didn’t know martial arts, and he was old… but you could go up and check.”

“I’ll go up and check.”

Han Xu jumped onto a chair, gathered strength from his lower abdomen and leaped upward. His arms reached out, and he was on the beam.

He looked around in all directions, and his gaze suddenly fixed.

“Yan Sanhe, there seems to be something.”

Yan Sanhe gave a violent shiver. “Bring it down quickly.”

Han Xu gathered his qi and walked over. “It’s a Diamond Sutra. Looks quite old.”

He picked up the book and casually flipped through it. A yellowed letter suddenly fell out.

The letter was tucked in the book, the book hidden on the beam.

For some reason, Yan Sanhe had a feeling that this letter might contain the secret she was seeking.

She stepped forward to pick up the letter but didn’t open it immediately. “Han Xu, search again and see if you can find anything else.”

Han Xu searched another circuit, checking even the corners and crevices, but found nothing else.

His feet touched the ground, and he dusted off his clothes. “Go to the study and look. I’ll tend to my own business.”

…

Yan Sanhe entered the study, closed the door, and sat down at the desk. Even with the letter in her hand, her heart still felt waves of confusion.

After taking several breaths to steady herself, she unfolded the letter bit by bit.

My brother Wenzhong:

Years have passed since we parted. Are you well?

At the start of the year, I learned of your demotion. I was shocked and surprised.

After much inquiry, I learned you had settled by the Nujiang River. Beyond sadness, I vaguely felt this might be a kind of liberation for you.

When I first met you, you were in your prime, full of vigor. Despite years navigating official circles, your eyes showed not a trace of murkiness.

I marveled then—such a person is rare in this world.

That day at the banquet, around a round table sat several colleagues, all sycophantic types.

You sat among them, back straight, expression cold, not even picking up chopsticks. Halfway through, you left in a huff.

Watching your retreating back, I immediately wanted to befriend you.

So I grabbed two jugs of wine, caught up, and asked: Will you drink?

You looked at me and answered: I will.

I asked again: Why did you agree?

You answered: You look agreeable.

One phrase—”agreeable”—led us to drink wildly for three days and nights. Drunk, then sober; sober, then drunk.

Much was said over wine, many things discussed—all passed through without staying. Only one phrase entered my heart.

You said: The great sickness of the world has but one word—pride. My condition is terminal. But this thing was given by parents at birth—only when lying in a coffin can it be changed.

I’ve spent half my life in military service, killed countless enemies, and can say my spine is straight—I need look at no one’s face to live. Yet for the sake of family, I too must do things against my heart, speak words against my will.

Your temperament—I cannot emulate it. I can only admire it in my heart.

I speak at length, not to flatter, but because I have a favor to ask.

I have a child under my knee. I want to protect her safely for life, but worldly affairs are unpredictable. If one day I cannot protect her, I ask you to help me.

Why approach you?

It’s almost laughable—I occupy a high position, looking around I see countless friends, two or three confidants, yet truly thinking about who I can entrust this to, who I dare entrust this to, after much thought there is only you.

You possess talent throughout your life, pride for half of it.

Your brows hold mountains and rivers, yet not me.

One who stays sober alone is actually a fool; but a fool’s promise is worth a thousand gold.

So Wenzhong, you absolutely cannot refuse me.

I have the courage to cross the water with sword drawn, to fight and die in one battle, but I cannot bear to hear you say “no,” because this child is truly too important to me.

For this, no thanks are needed.

If thanks are due, it will be in the netherworld when we meet—I will kneel and bow to you.

Your foolish elder brother: Qi Ming

Yonghe year one, Winter Solstice.