That was, until she impulsively tried to help him up. She reached out a hand, only for him to evade her touch. It was then she remembered exactly who she was dealing with. Embarrassed, she withdrew her hand and glanced at his pale face. “Should I call a doctor for you?”

Her offer was met with a cold refusal. “No need.”

Jiang Rao hesitated, wanting to persuade him. “You should at least see a doctor—”

He lifted his gaze, his narrow eyes flashing with cold sharpness as his gaze swept over her face. “I want to go home.”

Jiang Rao was taken aback. “Where is your home?”

“West of the city.”

If he wanted to go, she didn’t insist. She instructed a maid to find the wheelchair that had been used after her father’s fall some time ago.

Meanwhile, Rong Ting glanced at her before lowering his gaze again, his eyes dark and deep.

His legs were completely useless; he could hardly stand. Yet, somehow, she had seen through his injury with a single glance. Now she was trying to find a doctor, and she had even brought out the wheelchair.

The snow in the courtyard was deep. As soon as the wheelchair was pushed out, its wheels sank into the snow.

Jiang Rao tried to push it herself, but with her strength, it was almost impossible to move forward. Just as she was about to call a maid for help, the boy suddenly opened his eyes as if he had anticipated her next move. “I only want you to take me.”

Since finishing the pastries, he had been unusually quiet, so much so that he seemed like a completely different person from the brutal figure in her dream. He was unexpectedly calm, as if he were someone entirely separate from the violent youth she had imagined.

When he asked for help, there was a trace of something like a child who, despite his age, might ask for a treat, a soft, pleading tone. His long, thick lashes were closed, and his posture conveyed a sense of helplessness and innocence that tugged at the heart.

His voice, when it softened was pleasant to the ear.

Jiang Rao was momentarily stunned, but then the memory of his future cruelty and madness returned to her mind.

Someone who had to be cautious even when drinking a sip of water—suspicious, sensitive, and deeply guarded—couldn’t possibly be as pure and innocent as he seemed now.

With the experience of the pastry in mind, it didn’t take her long to figure it out.

She was small in stature, lacking strength, and her threat was almost nonexistent. It was likely because of this that he had only allowed her to be the one to take him.

Jiang Rao placed her fingers on the wheelchair.

Immediately, the boy leaned forward, creating a clear distance between them.

As expected, his refusal to even let her touch him confirmed her suspicions.

It was clear now—he resented her.

She tilted her head slightly, feeling a sense of unspoken disappointment and sadness well up inside her.

…

In the daytime, every household in Ye City had already cleared the snow that had piled up in front of their doors.

The central road had been thoroughly cleared, and pushing the wheelchair along it wasn’t as difficult as Jiang Rao had imagined.

The boy’s home wasn’t far from her family’s estate. As they walked, Jiang Rao didn’t hurry but kept her steps steady, and she kept talking the entire time.

“I apologize on behalf of my brother. What happened today was a misunderstanding. A few days ago, our father’s horse was fed with some herb, went mad, and threw him off, injuring his right leg. He was bedridden for several days. My brother saw you holding that herb and mistook you for the one who did it so, he started a fight with you. I’ll give him a good scolding when I get back. Really, he’s not a bad person, just young and impulsive.” — She explained her brother’s actions first.

“If you ever need anything, call for me, and I’ll come.” — Then, she threw in a few words of her own, hoping to make a good impression.

The boy gave a soft “Mm,” but his tone was indifferent, making it hard to gauge his emotions or intentions.

Jiang Rao took it as a good sign and softly said, “Then remember to find me in the future.”

But there was no reply.

Suddenly, laughter echoed from behind. A group of large, burly men, dressed as servants, walked toward them.

One of them reeked of alcohol, and when he saw Rong Ting, his face twisted in disgust as he frowned.

The man staggered up to them and paused, giving Rong Ting a look. “Oh, isn’t this our young master?”

Young Master?

Jiang Rao looked down at him, back in the snow earlier from his clothes and appearance, she had assumed he was a poor child who given the right opportunity would eventually rise to success. She hadn’t expected that he already had servants.

But… why did his servant look more presentable than him?

The man noticed Jiang Rao and his eyes brightened.

Jiang Rao had come to Ye City with her father and had already been there for over three months. They had kept a low profile, not drawing attention to themselves or boasting about their identities.

Even though the county magistrate had treated them as distinguished guests, the people here, even if they didn’t know exactly who they were, could likely guess they were of high status. As a result, they instinctively carried a certain amount of politeness and deference when interacting with Jiang Rao.

This man was no different.

He quickly shed the previous lazy, mischievous demeanor and, with quick movements, wheeled the chair toward himself. He spoke to Jiang Rao in an overly friendly manner. “My name is Wang Zhou. I serve the young master. The young master wasn’t at home today, and I’ve been looking for him all day. I was so worried. Thank you for bringing him back.”

However, Jiang Rao didn’t immediately believe his words.

He’d been out searching all day, yet he reeked of alcohol?

Lying.

She glanced at the young man sitting in the wheelchair, waiting to hear what he would say.

But he remained silent, cold and unyielding as hard as a stone.

Jiang Rao felt a lump in her throat.

He didn’t speak, and she couldn’t take it upon herself to discipline his servant.

But she couldn’t shake her unease about this unexpected servant either.

So, she refused the servant’s offer, and personally escorting the young man to his doorstep before stopping.

Wang Zhou opened the door first and quickly pulled out a worn-out wheelchair, clearly rarely used.

He brushed off the cobwebs and smiled, saying. “Let the young master use this one.”

Jiang Rao shook her head, about to suggest leaving her own wheelchair behind since it looked sturdier, but before she could speak, Rong Ting nodded in agreement.

Jiang Rao: “…”

Most of the people around her spoiled her, but this was the first time she encountered someone so cold and difficult to approach.

Before leaving, she turned to give one last instruction to the round-faced man who had followed them the entire way. “Your young master’s legs are injured. Take good care of him—be mindful of his food, clothing, and all his needs. Don’t leave him on the streets again.”

Wang Zhou responded with a constant, obsequious smile.

Up until now, Jiang Rao still had no positive impression of this man.

She stopped paying him any more attention and turned to Rong Ting, saying. “I’m leaving now. Remember, if you need anything, call for me, and I’ll come.”

After pushing the wheelchair all the way, her face had become flushed with warmth, as if a layer of rouge had been applied.

Once she left, she couldn’t help but glance back. She saw that the young man was watching her and, to her surprise, his lips curled into a small smile.

His pale, soft face, still round with baby fat, had a dimple that deepened as he smiled, bathed in the bright light of the day, as sweet as plum wine.

Rong Ting’s gaze flickered for a moment, and he quickly realized he had lost his composure. He awkwardly turned his face away.

…

After Jiang Rao left, Wang Zhou, the servant, sneered as he watched her retreating figure.

He released the grip on the wheelchair and strutted into the house, rummaging through the last bits of loose silver, quickly exiting again. He completely ignored Rong Ting and made his way toward the commercial district in the city to seek out pleasure.

He had never considered Rong Ting his master.

Though he knew that the young man he served came from some prominent family in the capital, sent to the quiet town of Ye City to recuperate after injuring his legs, Wang Zhou had little regard for him.

Especially after he had heard that this guy was just a illegitimate son, his biological mother had died early, and he was not favored by the main wife, making him very unloved.

With two severely injured legs, he had been dumped in Ye City, a remote place where even finding a doctor or medicine was difficult. They called it “rest and recuperation,” but in reality, no one had paid him any attention for months. It was clear they wanted him to fend for himself and die here.

Being with such a master meant no future at all. It was better to take advantage of him while he was still alive and scrape off whatever benefits he could.

Once he was dead, they would simply roll up his bedding and collect his body. That would be the extent of their loyalty as master and servant—doing what they could, nothing more.

Wang Zhou slammed the two doors shut, and the icy snowflakes splashed onto Rong Ting’s face, just a step away.

The broken snowflakes clung to his eyelashes and the bridge of his nose.

Not a flicker of emotion stirred in his eyes. No surprise, no anger—nothing.

He didn’t even lift a hand, letting the snowflakes rest on his long lashes.

He was simply used to it.

His gaze remained calm, and with a slow movement of his long fingers, he turned the wheelchair, pushing himself forward.

But as his gaze inadvertently drifted to his waist, his expression changed.

His pouch was gone.

And so was the jade token.

The jade token was the only valuable thing he had on him.

It was the last keepsake his mother had left him. When he had no money to his name, he had never once considered parting with the jade token.

Rong Ting’s mind immediately flashed to the image of Jiang Rao.

He… should have known.

He closed his eyes in weariness, a self-mocking curve appearing on his lips.

As he reflected on his brief lapse in attention, he could only feel how absurd and laughable it was.

=^_^=