Chasing Jade (Zhu Yu)

County Government Office.

Fan Changyu was detained in a temporary interrogation room, its doors and windows tightly shut. The tables and chairs inside seemed to exude a chilling coldness.

After sitting for a long time, the cold seeped through the thick double-layered soles of her shoes, leaving her feet nearly numb. She rubbed her hands together, blew warm air into her palms, and lightly stomped her feet, trying to ward off the chill.

Outside the interrogation room stood two on-duty Yamen Runners. Changyu had tried speaking to them through the door, but the two clearly weren’t Head Constable Wang’s men—they ignored her entirely.

The wait was agonizing. Finally, the door to the interrogation room creaked open, flooding the dark room with daylight. The Yamen Runner at the door said, “You’re free to go.”

Changyu assumed that Head Constable Wang had returned from the search and confirmed her innocence. Relieved, she stepped out of the interrogation room.

When she saw Head Constable Wang, he was frantically issuing orders to his subordinates. Only then did she notice that even the ordinary Yamen Runners serving tea were armed with blades, as if everyone in the Yamen was prepared to mobilize at any moment.

Head Constable Wang spotted Changyu and dismissed the Yamen Runners with a nod. His brows were furrowed so deeply they nearly formed the character "river."” “Another report just came in,” he said. “Today, aside from Fan Da’s brutal death, several other households were also attacked. The blade wounds on the victims match those on Fan Da’s body—likely the work of the same group. But only your home was targeted afterward. We don’t know if they got any information from Fan Da. When I took my men to investigate, we found a yard full of corpses…”

At the last sentence, Changyu’s mind buzzed as if her ears were ringing. She could see Head Constable Wang’s lips moving but couldn’t make out his words.

After a long moment, she barely managed to steady herself. “My sister—”

Her voice came out hoarse, her hands and feet icy.

Head Constable Wang quickly reassured her, “We didn’t find your husband or your sister’s bodies. We searched inside and out. They might have been taken by the assailants or escaped. I’ve already ordered the Yamen Runners to search, but the heavy snow has covered most traces. There’s been no word yet.”

Changyu’s relief was only partial. She rushed toward the exit. “I’ll look for them too.”

Her parents were already gone—she couldn’t let anything happen to her sister!

Though Yan Zheng was injured, he was still a trained fighter. Even in his severely wounded state, he had managed to deal with Jin Lao San and his gang. If the corpses in the courtyard were his doing, then he must have fled with Changning. But his injuries wouldn’t hold out for long—she had to find them before it was too late!

—

The wind carried fine snowflakes, along with the scent of blood, far through the pine forest.

A flash of steel, and a spurt of hot blood gushed from a neck, splattering onto the frost-covered trunk of a pine. The man holding the blade collapsed stiffly into the snow. The sticky blood on the tree dripped slowly, leaving small crimson pits in the snow below.

Xie Zheng didn’t even glance at the fallen man. With a flick of his wrist, he shook the blood droplets from his sword.

Within ten paces of him lay nothing but corpses.

Xiao Changning and the Gyrfalcon huddled together, their faces pale from fear or cold, too stunned even to cry.Xie Zheng sheathed his sword and walked back, frowning at the sight before him. He bent down and tapped the back of the child's hand with his knuckles—it was indeed as cold as ice.

He glanced at his own padded coat, already soaked through with blood, offering little warmth. His gaze then fell on the man he had just slit open nearby.

That coat didn't look dirty.

He strode over, using his sword to flick open the man's fur coat. With a kick, he sent the corpse rolling like a burlap sack, then lifted the coat with the tip of his blade, catching it in his hand.

This sword had been taken from a masked assailant. It served him well enough, so he kept it.

Xie Zheng tossed the fur coat to Xiao Changning. His bloodstained face was paler than the snow on the ground as he leaned weakly against a pine tree, his eyes half-lidded, exhaustion evident. Yet his tone remained icy: "Put it on. Stay alive until your elder sister finds you."

In the distance, footsteps closed in on the pine forest—several groups, though it was unclear whether they were allies of the masked men or another faction.

Xie Zheng had no intention of pressing forward. His strength was spent, and with a child in tow, he wouldn't get far.

Staying put to recover some energy might buy them more time.

"Zheng'er, is the osmanthus cake tasty?"

The sunlight and pine trees blurred before his eyes. For a moment, the gentle, dignified voice of a woman seemed to whisper in his ear, warm with laughter.

Xie Zheng's eyelids trembled.

Xiao Changning, seeing him covered in blood and slumped against the tree with his eyes closed, feared he was dead. With a hoarse, tearful voice, she sobbed, "Brother-in-law..."

"Quiet."

His consciousness sharpened again. Xie Zheng frowned, his limbs heavy as lead, his eyelids unbearably weighted.

This feeling was familiar. The last time he'd escaped the Martial Assassins of the Wei family, he'd collapsed unconscious in the snow just like this.

Forcing his eyes open, he gripped the blade with his blood-soaked, bandaged hand and dragged it downward.

The sharp edges sliced deep into his palms, soaking the bandages anew. Blood dripped from his clenched fists onto the snow like scattered plum blossoms.

The pain cleared his mind somewhat.

As chaotic footsteps drew near, a glinting blade thrust straight toward the child. Xie Zheng's sword swept up in a reverse block, the clash ringing out with a sharp "clang."

Sparks flew as steel met steel.

His gaze turned fierce. As his blade slid to the hilt, he twisted his wrist and carved a vicious gash across the masked attacker's shoulder, then kicked the man back several paces.

"Hide behind the tree," he ordered coldly, the whites of his eyes now streaked with red, like a lone wolf cornered.

A dozen masked men stared at their fallen comrades, visibly shaken. After exchanging glances, they surged forward, swords aimed at Xie Zheng with lethal precision.

Xiao Changning ducked behind the tree. Though Xie Zheng had scolded her repeatedly for crying, she couldn't stop the tears from falling as she instinctively pulled out the whistle hidden beneath her collar and blew it with all her might.

Her sister had made this whistle for her long ago. Once, while playing hide-and-seek with the neighborhood children, she'd fallen into a dry well. She'd cried until her voice gave out, but no one had found her.When her family came looking for her, she had cried herself hoarse and couldn't make a sound.

Later, her elder sister made her a whistle, telling her to blow it whenever she was in danger so the family could find her.

During the escape with her brother-in-law, she had blown it once out of fear, but it only attracted the wrong people. After being scolded harshly by her brother-in-law, she hadn't dared to use it again.

Now, in this urgent situation, Xiao Changning no longer cared about his warning.

The sharp whistle pierced through the pine forest like a fledgling bird crying blood.

A masked man noticed Changning and strode toward her with a blade in hand. Changning scrambled to her feet to run, but the oversized fur coat she had wrapped around herself—taken from one of the masked men—tripped her after just a few steps.

As the masked man raised his blade to strike, a gray falcon suddenly swooped down from nowhere, slamming straight into him. Its iron-hooked talons missed his neck but tore his face to shreds, ripping off the black cloth covering his face in the process.

From the dense woods in the distance came the faint but ferocious barking of dogs—more than one, it seemed—growing louder and more vicious. The birds nesting in that part of the forest took flight in a panic, darkening the snowy sky like a rolling storm.

Changning's eyes brightened, and she quickly puffed her cheeks, blowing the bamboo whistle several more times with all her might.

The masked man swung his sword to fend off the falcon and was about to grab Changning when a sharp whistling sound cut through the air behind him. Instinct made him jerk backward just in time to avoid the cleaver hurled straight at his skull.

The black iron blade buried itself deep into the trunk of a pine tree behind him. The impact shook the tree, sending snow piled on its branches cascading down in a flurry, momentarily obscuring vision.

In that split second, the masked man felt a sudden chill in his chest. As the blade was yanked free, blood gushed from the wound.

Though he had killed many people himself, the masked man still froze for a moment at the sight of the blood pouring from his chest.

What a ruthless strike.

This wound would drain a man's blood in the shortest time possible.

Through the falling snow, he struggled to lift his gaze, his vision settling on the black iron weapon dripping with fresh blood.

A butcher's cleaver?

His fading eyes could no longer make out the face of the person holding it.

But it was unmistakably a woman.

The masked man slumped to his knees in the snow, his head drooping weakly. The blood pooling beneath him melted the snow, the sheer volume nearly double that of the other masked men who had died here.

Fan Changyu had never killed a person with her butcher's cleaver before. In her panic, she had used the same technique as when slaughtering pigs—aiming to drain as much blood as possible.

The sheer tension and protective fury sent all the blood in her body rushing to her head. Her fingertips tingled and burned, leaving no room for any other emotion about taking a life.

The moment Changning saw her elder sister, her lips trembled as if she were about to burst into tears. But the situation was far too urgent.

Fan Changyu saw Yan Zheng, severely wounded and outmatched, his arm slashed open. Without a word to her younger sister, she yanked the cleaver from the tree trunk and hurled it at one of the masked men.

Unexpectedly, the man was pulled aside by a companion, dodging the blade—only for it to fly straight toward Xie Zheng behind him. Fan Changyu's heart leaped into her throat.

Thankfully, Xie Zheng reacted swiftly, tilting his head just in time as the heavy cleaver embedded itself into the pine tree behind him.

When he looked over, Fan Changyu's face flushed with embarrassment.As the snow from the tree cascaded down, she had no time to think further. Repeating her earlier tactic, she closed the distance instantly, stabbing several men in quick succession using her pig-slaughtering technique, while Xie Zheng slit throats with his sword.

What scattered across the snow-covered ground alongside the frost were splashes of fresh blood.

When the last of the snow had fallen from the branches, Fan Changyu met Xie Zheng’s gaze and awkwardly explained, “I was just… throwing that masked man earlier.”

Xie Zheng remained silent.

More than half of the dozen masked assailants had already fallen, giving him a moment to catch his breath. Leaning on his sword, his disheveled hair hung loosely, his face as pale as snow, blood staining the corner of his lips. Though he looked so weak it seemed he might collapse at any moment, the remaining masked men hesitated, not daring to act recklessly.

The barking of dogs grew closer. Three or four hunting hounds leaped out from the dense woods, baring their fangs and snarling at the masked men.

These hounds had been borrowed by Fan Changyu from a local hunter in town. Thanks to them, she had been able to follow the scent of blood to this pine forest outside the city.

Upon hearing Changning’s whistle, she had left the hounds behind and rushed ahead.

Fan Changyu shouted at the attackers, “The County Government Office’s officers will be here soon!”

The masked men exchanged glances, seemingly deciding that continuing the fight against Fan Changyu and Xie Zheng would be futile, and quickly retreated.

Xie Zheng said, “Capture one alive.”

Almost the moment he spoke, Fan Changyu charged forward.

These men, dressed like bandits, had killed Fan Da and broken into her home—they might very well be the same group responsible for her mother’s murder.

She untied a length of rope from her waist, swiftly forming a lasso as she ran. With a powerful throw, the loop caught around the neck of the last masked man. Fan Changyu yanked back with all her strength, tightening the noose instantly.

The masked man clawed desperately at the rope strangling him as Fan Changyu dragged him backward through the snow like a sack of refuse.

Xie Zheng’s expression shifted slightly at the sight.

Bracing one foot against a snow-laden pine, Fan Changyu hauled the rope with all her might, explaining, “This is a lasso used for wild horses or cattle. Once caught, it’s nearly impossible to escape—the more you struggle, the tighter it gets.”

Thankfully, Head Constable Wang, worried she might encounter danger during the search, had instructed the yamen runners to provide her with a constable’s equipment.

A constable’s standard gear consisted of just a blade and a coil of rope—the blade for self-defense, the rope for restraining criminals.

The yamen’s blade didn’t suit her as well as her own butcher’s knife, but not wanting to refuse Head Constable Wang’s kindness, she had taken the rope instead.

Xie Zheng fell silent for a moment. Despite the life-or-death situation, her words somehow eased the tension in the air.

Seeing their comrade captured, the remaining masked men exchanged brief glances before one of them suddenly hurled his sword at the trapped man.

Blood sprayed instantly as the lassoed man fell dead.

Fan Changyu cursed furiously, immediately dropping the rope and charging after them with her butcher’s knife.

Xie Zheng coughed up blood, but fearing she might be outmatched, he ignored his own severe injuries and moved to follow. As he stepped forward, however, his boot struck something hard in the snow. Shifting his foot, he saw a waist badge.

The moment he recognized the insignia engraved on it, his phoenix eyes sharpened like blades.He picked up the waist token and tucked it into his robe. When he looked at the masked men being pursued by Fan Changyu, his gaze was as indifferent as if they were already dead.

The masked men were being chased and bitten by three or four hunting dogs while simultaneously being pursued by the freakishly strong Fan Changyu. For a moment, they were utterly overwhelmed.

However, they quickly discovered Changyu's weakness. She often relied solely on brute strength and speed, lacking real combat experience where life was on the line. When they surrounded and attacked her, she couldn't defend properly and soon bore several wounds.

The burning pain from the sword cuts slowed her movements considerably. Though she was trying hard to learn how to block, this minor improvement wasn't enough to instantly match several skilled opponents.

When she saw another masked man swing his sword straight at her wrist, Changyu panicked but couldn't dodge in time—her stance was already committed.

If her wrist was injured, at best she'd lose grip on her weapon; at worst, she might lose the entire hand.

Gritting her teeth, she prepared to fight to the death.

At the critical moment, a large, bony hand gripped hers from behind, the one holding the cleaver. Compared to the warmth of her own skin, his touch was as cold as lake ice.

With some inexplicable finesse, he guided her wrist in a twist. The blade of her butcher's cleaver flipped upward and slashed fiercely at the masked man's elbow from below. Then, with overwhelming force, the blade scraped along bone and flesh upward until it reached the tendons and cartilage beneath the armpit—before giving a sharp flick.

The masked man's sword clattered to the ground, his entire arm now a bloody, limp mess. A heart-wrenching scream tore from his throat.

Though Changyu was used to scraping bones and cutting flesh, even she shuddered at the brutality of that move. She turned her head slightly and caught only a glimpse of the man's pale jaw before he guided her hand again, blocking the killing strikes from the remaining masked men.

His movements felt more like he was teaching her how to evade attacks, yet when it came to striking, Changyu didn't hold back her raw strength at all.

With her sole weakness now gone, the masked men were quickly overpowered.

Changyu did have some talent for martial arts. While memorizing the defensive moves Xie Zheng guided her through, she still found openings to land kicks on the masked men.

One of them was sent flying by her kick, crashing into a snow-laden pine. The impact shook the tree, sending a cascade of icicles crashing down in a flurry of snow.

At the same time, the man behind her guided her hand in a fluid motion, driving the butcher's cleaver straight into another masked man's heart.

Changyu could distinctly feel the wound on his palm reopening—warm blood seeped out, wetting the back of her hand where their skin touched. Yet his palm remained cold.

Watching the chaotic flashes of swordplay before her, her chest trembled faintly, as if resonating with the fallen icicles.

"Don't lose focus." His voice, cool and slightly hoarse, brushed against her ear. Their proximity—due to the way he guided her grip—allowed her to feel the faint warmth of his breath.

Her entire ear tingled strangely.

Suppressing the urge to rub it, she forced her attention back to the fight.

By the time the bloodstained butcher's cleaver pressed against the last masked man's throat, Changyu finally had a moment to catch her breath.She had noticed earlier that this man was likely the leader of the group—the masked man she had ensnared had been finished off by his sword.

Fan Changyu pressed her blade harder against his neck, drawing a thin line of blood, and demanded coldly, “Who are you? What grudge do you hold against my Fan Family?”

Yet the man didn’t look at her. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on Xie Zheng, who stood behind her, as if struggling to recognize something. When Xie Zheng lifted his eyes to meet his stare, the man seemed to finally place him, his pupils contracting violently as a look of defeat washed over his face. Then, abruptly, he seized the butcher’s knife Fan Changyu held to his throat.

Standing so close to Xie Zheng, Fan Changyu hadn’t realized the man was looking at him. Startled by the sudden movement, she thought he was trying to wrest the blade from her and immediately pressed down harder to restrain him. But instead of resisting, the man gripped the knife and drove it deep into his own neck.

A spray of blood splashed across the trampled snow.

The masked man collapsed, his throat slit.

Fan Changyu stared at the scene, too stunned to speak for a long moment.

She gazed at the bloodied butcher’s knife in her hand and murmured, “Why would he…?”

He’d rather take his own life than say another word—just who were these people?

Could they be enemies her father had made during his years as a caravan escort?

As she looked at the dead leader, thoughts of her parents’ deaths tangled like a knot in her chest.

Xie Zheng had frowned when he saw the masked man’s suicide, but his injuries had pushed him to his limit. With the danger gone and his willpower spent, the world spun violently around him.

The blood he’d been forcing back surged up, and he could no longer keep his grip on his sword.

Hearing the commotion behind her, Fan Changyu turned just in time to see him collapse into the snow, his face and lips drained of all color. Without another thought, she rushed to check his wounds.

Not only had his old injuries reopened, but he had also sustained several new ones.

The guilt weighed heavier on her heart knowing he’d nearly died again because of her family.

She didn’t have any wound medicine on her, but she reasoned that these bandits might carry some. Searching the dead leader’s body, she indeed found a small bottle of powder.

Unsure if it was truly a coagulant, she tested it first on the leader’s still-bleeding wound. When the blood clotted, she applied it to Xie Zheng’s injuries.

The moment the potent medicine touched his flesh, the searing pain—like knives and fire—jolted him back to partial consciousness, though he remained too weak to even open his eyes.

After hastily bandaging him, Fan Changyu hoisted him onto her back and set off to retrieve Changning.

Her arms bore shallow cuts from her earlier skirmish with the masked men. Though not serious, the wounds burned fiercely now as she strained under his weight.

Hoping to distract herself from the pain, she joked weakly to the man on her back, “This is the second time I’ve carried you out of the snow.”

There was no response—he seemed to have passed out again.

Beads of sweat formed at her temples from the pain, and she whispered, “Thank you.”

Thank you for saving Changning.

Without her little sister, she would have lost her last remaining family in this world—left with nowhere to go.The blizzard raged as she carried the man on her back, leaving deep footprints in the snow.

Xiao Changning waited under the conifer tree, clutching the Gyrfalcon. Seeing Fan Changyu return with Xie Zheng on her back, she hurried forward. "Sister."

Burdened with her load, Fan Changyu couldn't embrace her younger sister. A drop of sweat trickled down her temple, stinging the scrapes on her face. She looked Changning over and asked, "Are you hurt, Ning Niang?"

Changning shook her head, her eyes reddening when she saw the unconscious figure on her sister’s back. Choking back a sob, she said, "Brother-in-law got hurt protecting Ning Niang..."

The blood from his palm when he broke the move for her still stained her hand, searing like a burn. A pang of bitterness rose in Fan Changyu’s chest. "Don’t cry," she said. "We’ll take him back to see a doctor."

She always seemed calm and steady.

Yet whenever Changning heard her elder sister speak like this, her heart settled, and fear melted away.

When their parents passed, she had cried herself into a fit, gasping for breath. It was Changyu who held her by the bedside and whispered, "Don’t be afraid. You still have me."

Xiao Changning watched her sister’s bent back, wiping her eyes clumsily with her sleeve before clutching the Gyrfalcon and trudging through the snow after Fan Changyu.

"This is the second time I’ve carried you back from the snow."

"Thank you."

In his haze of delirium, Xie Zheng heard someone speaking to him. The voice was familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

His eyelids were too heavy, his mind a swirling mess, unable to form a coherent thought. It felt as though he were sinking endlessly into darkness, the cold seeping into the very marrow of his bones.

Resisting the pull was exhausting. Surrendering to it brought an instant lightness.

"Zheng’er."

Someone was calling him again.

He could no longer clearly recall the gentle woman’s face or voice, but in his dreams, he always knew it was her.

Why was she visiting his dreams now?

Hadn’t she abandoned him?

Xie Zheng didn’t want to answer her, yet his gaze was drawn forward against his will. The woman stood in the back garden of the marquis’ estate, smiling as she held a child’s hand, watching a martial man practice his forms in the courtyard.

"Zheng’er’s father is a true hero. One day, you must become just like him."

Only when the woman turned her radiant smile toward him did Xie Zheng realize he had become that child.

Still, he remained silent, staring at her face—so vivid in the dream, yet fading into a blur upon waking.

He missed her. But she had left too soon, so soon that even her face had slipped from his memory.

The man practicing in the courtyard vanished, replaced by a coffin carried back from the battlefield in Jinzhou.

The woman, clad in mourning white, collapsed before the coffin, her wails of grief piercing the air. Maids and servants rushed to restrain her, but none could hold her back.

The scene shifted. She wore fresh robes, sitting before a bronze mirror as she traced her brows—delicate as distant mountains. Her face was exquisite, yet unmistakably sorrowful. "Why did he break his promise?" she murmured. "He said he’d return to paint my brows for me."

It sounded like the lament of a maiden whose lover had stood her up.

She noticed him and beckoned him over. Xie Zheng didn’t move. Instead, a child of about four, wearing a small golden crown, dashed past him toward her. She handed the boy a plate of osmanthus cake, her voice as tender as ever. "Zheng’er, is the osmanthus cake tasty?"

Finally, he spoke, his voice laced with resentment. "No. It’s not."

The woman seemed not to hear him. She lifted the child onto her lap, her gentle voice growing distant. "Zheng’er, you must grow up to be a hero like your father."

"Be good now. Go eat your osmanthus cake outside."Then she applied her makeup, dressed in her finest clothes, leaving only her brows bare, and hung herself from the beam with a white silk ribbon.

Her general had broken his promise and not returned to paint her brows, so she went to find him.

The servant women broke down the door, wailing in grief. The child stood at the threshold, seeing only the vibrant hem of a skirt dangling in midair.

Struggling awake from this nightmare once more, Xie Zheng was drenched in cold sweat.

The numbing bitterness of medicine lingered on his tongue as his eyes focused on the patched bed curtains. A figure stood silhouetted against the light by his bedside.

Turning his head slightly, Xie Zheng saw Fan Changyu staring at him with a mix of shock and bewilderment, holding a medicine bowl in her hands. The spoon she had been holding was nowhere to be seen.

His gaze lowered to the shattered porcelain spoon on the floor.

She stammered, "Medicine never tastes good..."

Xie Zheng: "..."

His breathing, still rapid from the nightmare, gradually steadied. The lingering gloom from the dream dissipated miraculously at her words.

Frowning, he gave the woman sitting by his bed a complicated look, then forced himself upright and extended a pale, slender hand. "Give it to me."

Even in illness, his face was strikingly handsome.

Fan Changyu hesitated before realizing he meant the medicine bowl. Glancing at the bandages on his hand, she reminded him gently, "You have two deep sword cuts on this hand, and your palm is torn. The physician said you shouldn’t exert it yet."

He switched hands, and only then did she pass him the bowl.

Xie Zheng downed the foul-tasting concoction in one gulp and handed the empty bowl back.

Fan Changyu recalled forcing the medicine down his throat while he was half-conscious, and his gritted-teeth roar of "It’s disgusting!" So this usually silent man was actually afraid of bitterness.

She rummaged in her sleeve and pulled out a piece of candy meant for Changning. "Have some sugar. It’ll help with the bitterness."

After countless doses of medicine, this was the first time she’d offered him candy. Even a fool could guess why. His expression darkened, and he closed his eyes. "No need."

But the next moment, a firm grip on his jaw forced his mouth open, and the candy was popped inside.

"You—!" He glared at her.

Fan Changyu retreated to her seat with a grin. "Sweet, isn’t it? There’s no shame in disliking bitterness. You’re always so needlessly stubborn!"

Perhaps it was the faint winter sunlight streaming through the window behind her, but her smile seemed especially bright and warm.

—At least far warmer than the smile of that woman in his dreams, whose face he could no longer recall.

The melting sweetness of the candy gradually overpowered the medicinal bitterness, like sunlight breaking through a damp, moss-covered gloom.

Xie Zheng suddenly fell silent, turning his head away and pressing his lips together.

He hadn’t eaten sweets in years—not since that woman coaxed him outside with a plate of osmanthus cake, only to hang herself with a white ribbon upon his return.

All these years, resentment and self-loathing had festered in his heart.

If only he hadn’t taken that plate of osmanthus cake outside. If he’d stayed by her side, maybe she wouldn’t have left.He detested osmanthus cakes, detested sweets, and over time, those around him stopped offering them to him altogether.

Fan Changyu noticed his low spirits but couldn't discern the reason, so she simply advised, "This injury of yours is no less severe than the last one. The physician repeatedly emphasized that you must rest properly—at least until you're healed, you shouldn't be lifting heavy objects. Many in our family have died, and the authorities are investigating the case. We can't return home for now, so stay in this loft at Aunt Zhao's place to recover."

Xie Zheng had already recognized this loft in the Zhao family where he had previously recuperated when he woke up. Hearing her words, he gave a slight nod.

Fan Changyu paused, then added, "Thank you for protecting Changning."

Her voice overlapped with the one he had heard before losing consciousness, confirming it hadn't been an auditory hallucination.

At the time, she seemed to have said one more thing.

"This is the second time I've carried you back from the snow."

During his first injury, Xie Zheng had been completely unconscious. This time, though dazed, he had been vaguely aware.

He could feel how slender the back carrying him had been.

Now, as he looked at Fan Changyu again, noticing her thin shoulders and the faint glimpse of bandages beneath her sleeves, his chest tightened as if stuffed with damp cotton—stifling and moist.

When she had carried him back, she had been injured too.

He moved his pale, cracked lips and said, "You saved me first."

That was all he said, as if subconsciously unwilling to settle the debt of gratitude too clearly.

When those men had broken in, he had thought the Zhao family had been exposed, drawing assassins. But apart from trying to kill him and the child, they had nearly turned the Fan family's home upside down—clearly searching for something.

Thinking of the waist token he had picked up from the snow, Xie Zheng's eyes darkened further.

He asked, "Has the County Government Office uncovered anything?"

Fan Changyu shook her head and told him about the other families who had suffered similar tragedies that day.

Fan Da's death had nothing to do with her now, and the County Government Office had smoothly transferred all the property deeds left by her parents to her.

With more financial leeway, this was probably the only thing that brought her comfort—at least she wouldn't have to scrimp to pay for Yan Zheng's medical treatment.

Hearing that others in the county had also been targeted, Xie Zheng frowned in thought before suddenly asking, "Did those killed alongside Fan Da share any common traits?"

Fan Changyu pondered for a moment before shaking her head. "Seven households were attacked. The dead included men and women, old and young. There were no commonalities."

Xie Zheng remained silent, his brow furrowed.

Those men had targeted seven households but ultimately focused on Fan Changyu's family. Clearly, they had been searching widely for something at first, only narrowing it down after extracting information from Fan Da.

Using the Fan family's situation as a reference, he ventured a guess: "Did any of those households have members who once worked outside Lin'an Town and later returned?"

Fan Changyu felt that if this were true, it was likely revenge directed at her parents. But she couldn't understand why those people wouldn't stop even after her parents' deaths. "I'll ask Head Constable Wang later," she said.

After Fan Changyu left the loft, Xie Zheng mustered his strength to sit up. From the pile of bloodstained clothes on the bedside stool, he retrieved the waist token he had picked up from the snow.He held it in his hand, frowning as he examined it for a while before clenching it tightly in his palm.

That waist token belonged to the Wei family's Martial Assassins.

Heaven, Earth, Mystic, and Yellow—this time, it was actually the Mystic-ranked Martial Assassins who had come.

But these men weren’t here to kill him. In fact, they hadn’t even noticed him hiding here. Their leader had only recognized him at the very last moment.

Yet why had that man worn such an expression upon recognizing him and immediately taken his own life?

The mystery before him grew deeper. The only way to unravel it seemed to lie in uncovering the true identities of that woman’s parents.

Her martial skills were already so formidable—her father must have been no ordinary man either. It was likely he hadn’t died at the hands of common bandits but rather Martial Assassins disguised as such.

Was there also more to the name without a surname on her mother’s memorial tablet?

Xie Zheng pressed his fingers to his brow, considering sending word to his former subordinates to secretly investigate the origins of the woman’s parents. His gaze flickered to the Gyrfalcon, its wing bandaged, lying on the floorboards as it voraciously devoured a bowl of minced pork.

The bowl of minced meat had been prepared by Fan Changyu. Since the Gyrfalcon had saved Changning, its meals had been upgraded from offal to fresh minced meat.

After rolling in the snow several times, its feathers had finally regained their white sheen. At that moment, it had just opened its beak wide to snatch up a large chunk of meat when it suddenly noticed Xie Zheng staring at it.

The Gyrfalcon’s beady eyes locked onto its master’s. After a tense standoff, the meat at the edge of its beak finally plopped back into the bowl with a soft thud, leaving the bird looking both foolish and innocent.

Xie Zheng coldly averted his gaze.

Never mind. The Wei family’s hounds had already taken notice of this place. There was no point in relying on this stupid creature to deliver messages anymore.

If that merchant surnamed Zhao truly had come to seek refuge with him, he could use the man’s shops to discreetly send out letters without anyone noticing.

With only a few days left until the New Year, he had instructed the merchant to exchange the silver notes for two hundred thousand dan of grain before the year’s end. A reply would likely arrive soon.

The malt candy in his mouth had melted away, leaving only a faint sweetness on his tongue.

Only then did he glance out the window. The candy was gone, but the one who had given it to him still hadn’t returned—

Fan Changyu had gone to the County Government Office to share Xie Zheng’s reasoning with Head Constable Wang. However, after hearing her out, the constable merely shook his head in silence and said, “This case has already been closed.”

Fan Changyu was stunned. “How can it be closed when the mastermind behind it hasn’t even been found?”

Head Constable Wang replied, “Those who died in the pine forest were the culprits. They were bandits from Clear Breeze Stronghold. Bandits killing for loot during the New Year is nothing unusual.”

Fan Changyu thought to herself, How could they have been bandits? They had clearly come prepared. She wanted to argue further, but when she met the constable’s gaze, she swallowed all the words on the tip of her tongue.

It wasn’t hard for her to guess why the County Government Office was in such a hurry to close the case.

The New Year was approaching, and with so many murders suddenly occurring, not only were the common people discontent, but the county magistrate would also have a hard time explaining things to the prefectural authorities. They needed a quick resolution.

Since the masked men had been dressed as bandits and were now dead with no way to verify their identities, pinning the crimes on them as bandits killing for loot was naturally the best excuse.

All the magistrate had to do was post a notice warning the townsfolk to be cautious when going out due to rampant bandit activity, and public sentiment would be appeased. Then, he could draft a petition requesting a bandit suppression campaign to be sent to the prefecture, neatly shifting all responsibility elsewhere.

After all, the Clear Breeze Stronghold’s banditry had plagued Jizhou for years without resolution—it was already a chronic issue.Head Constable Wang was just a minor constable. With the county magistrate pressuring him to close the case, what else could he say?

Fan Changyu felt heavy-hearted as she bid farewell to Head Constable Wang. When he escorted her to the door, he said, "Why don't you sell your pigpen and land in the countryside and go somewhere else to lay low for a while? I suspect your father might have offended someone during his earlier years as a traveling escort."

Fan Changyu knew Head Constable Wang meant well. She thanked him and said she would consider it carefully, but for a moment, she felt lost.

Leave?

She had lived in Lin'an Town for over a decade. From a rock at the eastern end of the town to a tree on the western side, she knew every inch of it.

Staying here might give her a chance to uncover the truth behind her parents' deaths, but if another assassination attempt came, she couldn’t guarantee she and her younger sister would survive.

She wasn’t afraid of leaving home and venturing out into the world. But her parents were buried here, and so were her and Changning’s roots. The thought of leaving pained her.

By the time she stepped out of the County Government Office, her chaotic thoughts had settled. She gazed at the vast sky after the snowfall and exhaled deeply.

As long as the green hills remain, there will always be firewood to burn.

Once Yan Zheng’s injuries improved, she would discuss leaving Qingshui County with him. If he wasn’t afraid of more enemies seeking revenge and was willing to follow her, she’d take him along. If he had other plans, she’d write him divorce papers and give him some travel money—then they’d be even.

After returning to town, Fan Changyu went to the butcher shop to pack up some things. The best time to transfer the shop would be after the New Year. Since she planned to leave, she might as well sell the shop, along with the pigpen and farmland in the countryside.

She decided to keep the house—if she ever returned, she’d have a place to come back to. It was where she and her parents had lived for over a decade, and she couldn’t bear to sell it.

As she clattered around packing things up, passersby thought the Fan Family Butcher Shop had reopened. Seeing nothing on the counter, some even poked their heads in to ask when business would resume.

Not wanting to complicate matters, Fan Changyu didn’t announce her plans to transfer the shop yet. She simply said she’d reopen after the New Year.

While she was busy organizing, someone knocked at the door. Without looking up, Fan Changyu said, "We’re not open today."

A hoarse voice replied, "Not even for an old man’s business?"

Fan Changyu glanced up and saw it was Chef Li from the Overflowing Fragrance Pavilion. Apologetically, she said, "Sorry, Master Li. Some things have happened at home recently, and I don’t plan to open the shop until after the New Year."

Chef Li waved his hand. "Our boss wants to see you."