Chapter 2

Interwoven shades of red and white resembled brocade roses blooming fiercely amidst the snow, while the boy standing at their center, in crimson robes with falling snow, appeared godlike in one moment and demonic in the next.

Even though Yun Miao firmly believed this was just a dream, the sight of so much blood froze her in place with fear.

The boy, like a devil, walked across the sea of blood, a blade in hand. He reached into his wide sleeves and extended fingers as clean as jade, gently lifting her chin.

Yun Miao nervously met his gaze.

He squatted down before her, observing the slight tremble in her pupils from fear and panic, studying her with intense focus, like a curious little beast inspecting its prey.

Then, suddenly, he tilted his head and smiled. “Are you that scared?”

Just then, a golden beam of sunlight broke through the clouds, falling between them.

The demonic shadow vanished in an instant, and he reverted to the appearance of a genteel young master from a noble family—polite, warm, and smiling. The surrounding atmosphere seemed to brighten along with his demeanor.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, giving a flick of the blade.

Yun Miao shut her eyes, feeling the cold steel pass across her skin. Yet, there was no pain—only a chilling sensation.

The next moment, the ropes binding her fell apart piece by piece. The boy had severed them with a deft flick of his blade, freeing her from all restraints.

When she opened her eyes again, he was crouched before her, his gaze full of gentle goodwill.

“I promised to take you to the Yun Manor to be the daughter of the minister. As long as you keep my secret, I will keep you safe.”

Noticing her long eyelashes still trembling slightly, he sighed lightly, as if in exasperation. “Am I really that frightening?”

He explained earnestly, “If I hadn’t killed them, it would have been us who died.”

“I’m not scared of you…” Yun Miao whispered faintly, her voice trembling a bit. “I’m just a little squeamish about blood…”

She pointed out quietly, “You’re bleeding.”

“Hmm?” The boy paused, touched his cheek, and glanced down at his bloodstained fingers. Only then did he notice a fine cut on his face—probably from the earlier fight.

He wiped the wound indifferently, cleaning away the blood. Then, after studying her for a moment, he suddenly extended a hand, placing his warm palm over her eyes.

Her long lashes fluttered against his palm, tickling his skin slightly and evoking a strange sensation. He paid it no mind, focused instead on gently covering her eyes.

“Don’t look.” His voice, crisp and clear as shattered jade, sounded in her ear—a soothing murmur.

With her eyes covered, Yun Miao felt his movements light and gentle. A soft ribbon settled over her eyes, plunging her into a warm darkness.

“This way, you won’t see the blood, and you won’t be scared, right?”

He clapped his hands lightly and stood up. “Alright, let’s go. We’re heading back to Chang’an.”

Yun Miao struggled but couldn’t stand up.

“What now?” His voice carried a tinge of irritation this time.

“My legs are weak,” she said softly, apologetically.

The boy sighed.

“I’ll carry you then.”

He walked over, bent down, and said, “Get on.”

Blindfolded, Yun Miao fumbled her way onto his back, resting her hands around his neck and carefully climbing onto him.

His back was slender but steady, just the right size to carry her. His clothes felt luxuriously smooth and soft against her skin. She nuzzled into them slightly, resting her chin on his shoulder.

What a realistic dream, Yun Miao thought. Even the texture of the fabric felt so genuine.

This kind of material must be expensive… As her mind wandered aimlessly, she noticed the boy stop and crouch slightly as if picking something up.

She peeked under the blindfold and saw him retrieving a small blade from one of the bandits’ corpses.

It wasn’t so much a knife as it was a thin blade, about three fingers wide and a foot long, with no hilt or sheath. Sharpened on both edges, it was a dangerous weapon. Without a hilt, holding it risked injuring the wielder. It seemed ill-suited for combat, as it was as likely to harm its user as the enemy.

“You’re watching me,” he said suddenly, without turning around.

Yun Miao jumped. His tone was more a statement than a question. It was as if he had eyes on the back of his head, knowing she had pulled off the blindfold to secretly observe him.

“Aren’t you squeamish about blood? There’s plenty of it here along with the bodies,” he said casually, discussing blood and corpses as if chatting about the weather.

“I’m only squeamish about flowing blood,” Yun Miao admitted honestly, then asked, “What are you doing?”

“Retrieving my belongings,” he replied.

With two fingers, he deftly flipped the thin blade and placed it against his wrist. The cold, sharp edge rested against his skin and veins like a serpent poised to strike.

“That’s yours?” Yun Miao peeked over his shoulder.

He nodded, not hiding anything. “This is my secret to killing.”

“And those who have seen me kill,” he added with a smile and a casual tone, “are mostly already dead.”

Yun Miao’s first reaction: What a ridiculously edgy line!

But… she had to admit, it did sound cool.

She watched as he pulled a red ribbon from his hair, carefully wrapping the blade around his wrist and then tucking it neatly into his sleeve. His movements were so precise and focused it reminded her of a diligent student completing homework.

Noticing her gaze, he turned his head slightly. In this moment, he had no trace of killing intent—just the demeanor of a polite and thoughtful young man, with long lashes fluttering gently and a faintly endearing air about him.

“Let’s go.” He stood up again, carrying her on his back. Gazing into the pale light falling from the sky, he murmured softly to himself, “…It’s getting dark.”

The wind rose and fell. A corner of his deep crimson robe fluttered, silently concealing the glint of hidden steel.

---

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

The mountains loomed green, layered with clouds and stone. The wind swept through the endless wilderness, rustling in waves. Amidst this silent expanse, the boy trudged through the rugged terrain, carrying the girl on his back.

“Because you’re the minister’s daughter,” he answered lazily. “When we reach Chang’an, don’t let anyone think otherwise.”

“But you know I’m not,” Yun Miao pointed out, looking at him.

He laughed softly.

“Maybe because you said I was good-looking,” he replied casually, changing the subject. “Not many people compliment me. It made me happy, so I’m being nice to you.”

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you you’re handsome?” Yun Miao exclaimed; her tone incredulous. “You’re the best-looking person I’ve ever seen!”

He laughed again.

“If you had met my…” He paused briefly. “My older brother and sister, you’d understand. Standing next to them, no one pays attention to me.”

“My family doesn’t like me very much,” he added with a smile, as if talking about someone else’s troubles. “Even now, I’ve been kidnapped by bandits, and no one will come to save me.”

“But,” he continued, turning his head slightly, “when you meet my family, make sure you never reveal my secret…”

“Otherwise…” He smiled faintly, leaving the sentence unfinished.

“I won’t tell!” Yun Miao raised four fingers to swear, then curiously asked, “By the way, I don’t even know your name yet?”

“You can call me Ah Yuan,” he said casually.

Yun Miao: “?”

So insincere! I told you my full name, and you give me such a vague alias?

“Too lazy to even make up a surname? Tell me, is there anyone in the world whose surname is ‘A’?”

“Fine, then I’ll call myself A-Miao.”

She seemed a bit annoyed, her rebellious streak surfacing. “I’m not some Yinchuan Yun clan member, nor am I the daughter of Yun Shangshu. I…”

“Xie.” The boy interrupted her.

Yun Miao didn’t quite understand and tilted her head to look at him, seeing him turn his face toward her and say softly, “My surname is Xie.”

“Your name is Xie Yuan?” Yun Miao scratched her head.

The name sounded somewhat familiar.

But where had she heard it?

…She couldn’t recall.

The two of them chatted sporadically as the sky gradually darkened. The bustling hum of summer insects filled the air, and the chorus of cicadas boiled over the mountains and valleys.

When Xie Yuan passed by a crooked tree for the third time with Yun Miao on his back, she couldn’t help but point out that they had passed it three times already.

Reluctantly, the boy admitted, “We’re lost.”

He stopped, set her down under the tree, and pulled a small bundle of bamboo sticks from his sleeve. Sitting on the ground covered in fallen flowers, he propped his chin on one hand while fiddling with the sticks in the other, a look of focused concentration on his face.

“What are you doing?” Yun Miao asked, staring at him.

“Divining.” His answer was curt, with no intention of elaborating.

But Yun Miao pressed on, “Divining for what?”

“For directions,” Xie Yuan replied nonchalantly.

Yun Miao took a moment to process this.

“You’re finding the way using divination?” She widened her eyes at him.

…Divination is unreliable, young man!

Just as she was about to sternly point out the fallacy of pseudoscience, he had already packed up the sticks and stood up. “Got it. Let’s go.”

Xie Yuan walked quickly, with no intention of waiting for her. Yun Miao had no choice but to trot after him.

As she chased after his silhouette, she suddenly recalled that he had seemed to stagger slightly when he stood up earlier.

---

By the time they reached a cave suitable for shelter, the sky had turned completely dark.

The swaying grass and trees rustled in the wind, and long wolf howls echoed among the mountains.

A night wind, carrying the coolness of the mountain air, swept through, and Yun Miao hugged herself, shivering as she hopped around in the chilly cave. “It’s so cold, so cold.”

Before she could finish her sentence, a coat landed on her head. The soft satin fabric draped down her hair. She shook her head to free herself and peeked out, clutching the coat.

The coat still retained the boy’s warmth and a faint, pleasant scent. It smelled like snow falling on treetops on a winter morning or dew-laden leaves after rain—crisp and clean.

Wrapped in the warm and soft satin, her body quickly warmed up.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“No need to thank me.”

Without even lifting his head, the boy’s voice was cold. “The journey is long. If you catch a cold and get sick, I’ll have to take care of you. It’s troublesome.”

The next moment, he unexpectedly chuckled lightly and looked at her with a warm and friendly gaze. “But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.”

This guy was as unpredictable as the weather in May—rainy one moment and sunny the next.

After spending more time with him, Yun Miao sometimes felt his smile was somewhat hollow, like a soulless mask that didn’t even seem to bother with convincing pretense.

Yet his eyes were so clear and pure that it was impossible not to believe his words.

The night deepened.

The cold wind from the mountain peaks carried moisture, sweeping into the cave.

Yun Miao, clutching the coat, waited inside as Xie Yuan stepped in from outside, the wind tugging at his fluttering robes.

He threw down a bundle of dry firewood, started a fire, and sat down, leaning back against the cave wall. Closing his eyes, he said, “Sleep.”

And just like that, he fell asleep.

After a while, the fire popped, sending a spark flying into the darkness.

Yun Miao turned her head and looked at the boy sleeping beside her.

His head tilted slightly, and he rested quietly. Beneath the coat was a clean undershirt, with snowy white sleeves cascading down. The slightly disheveled collar revealed a delicate collarbone and neck line, almost translucent in the firelight.

The still light fell on his hair tips. His thick, dark lashes drooped low, casting slender shadows under his eyes. His pale skin appeared almost fragile, like snow about to melt.

Yun Miao finally realized something was wrong with him.

“Xie Yuan?” she whispered, “Are you feeling unwell?”

The boy beside her didn’t respond. Lost in a deep, hazy sleep, his breathing grew rapid, his body trembling slightly with every breath. A few stray strands of hair slipped down his face.

He silently gritted his teeth, seemingly enduring some unknown pain.

The fire cracked again, and the flames were extinguished by the wind. Outside the cave, pairs of green lights suddenly flickered to life, like ghostly lanterns in the frigid mountain wind.

Yun Miao shivered and turned her head tremblingly.

—Wolves!

In these remote mountains, wolf packs often roamed, hunting lone animals or travelers for food. They feared fire, so they wouldn’t attack when the fire was burning.

But the fire had gone out.

“Xie Yuan? Xie Yuan?”

Yun Miao shook the boy’s shoulder, trying to wake him.

With a light push, he coughed violently, his knuckles whitening from his clenched fists. Beneath his pale skin, faint blue veins surfaced, and his breathing and heartbeat became chaotic.

Yun Miao realized she couldn’t rely on him now—his condition was too dire to fend for himself.

She bit her lip and turned to look at the wolves outside the cave, poised to attack.

She could run deeper into the cave and abandon him; the wolves, distracted by a person, might not chase her.

After all, she still firmly believed this was just a dream. The lives of people in a dream shouldn’t matter to those outside it.

But…she turned back to the boy lying beside her.

He had been unbelievably kind to her. Though his kindness seemed to have ulterior motives, it was still genuine.

Even in a dream…it had been real.

Yun Miao gritted her teeth, leaned down, and gently grabbed the boy’s pale wrist, remembering the blade wrapped around it.

She unwrapped the red silk from his wrist layer by layer, pulling out the small knife. Wrapping the silk around its end, she gripped it tightly with both hands.

Then, she stood up and faced the wolves outside.

The extinguished firewood made a faint crackling sound, and a gust of mountain wind lifted her robes and hair.

The next moment, the lead wolf leapt!

Yun Miao tightly shut her eyes, raising the blade high.

…But the anticipated attack never came.

“Plop.”

A drop of warm blood fell onto her forehead.

Suddenly, she was pulled into an embrace that carried the scent of snow and dew.

A hand, slightly cold, reached over her shoulder and took the blade from her hands.

Yun Miao tilted her face up.

Clad in fluttering robes, the boy had awakened at some point. He stood, holding her tightly with one arm and wielding the short blade with the other.

The blood-stained blade pierced through the lead wolf’s heart.

The splattered blood was vivid, like the most brilliant ink wash painting a painter could create. The boundless wind swirled his bloodied white robes, making him appear like an asura returning from the depths of hell.

A hand gently covered her eyelids, wiping away the blood on her forehead with a touch as tender as a brother’s or a lover’s.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. “I promised, I’ll protect you.”