The north wind howled chaotically at the Ferry Crossing, causing the only lantern illuminating the area to flicker on and off.
People came and went at the crossing, hunching their necks and carrying luggage as they waited for boarding time.
Amid the dense, shadowy crowd, a slender figure stood at the wind’s edge. The Bamboo Hat on her head was lifted by the northern gusts, and her frail form seemed as though it might be swept away by the wind.
Song Jin hid at the entrance, wrapping her padded coat tightly around herself. Yet, despite her efforts, the biting cold wind still seeped through the fabric.
Her face had long lost all sensation from the wind, and her bright almond-shaped eyes were watering from the gusts.
She kept her gaze fixed unwaveringly on Sister Qinghong in the distance, but the young master’s figure never appeared.
…It was already past the agreed-upon time.
Song Jin frowned—
It seemed the young master truly had no intention of coming at all.
Earlier, before leaving Donglin Lane, Song Jin had asked the young master about his plans, but he hadn’t replied. Instead, he had closed the door with an icy expression.
As if he had never met Song Jin that day.
On her way home, Song Jin couldn’t shake her unease, so she made a detour to the dock and hid in a corner.
The bitter wind blew relentlessly. Qinghong had waited at the dock for a long time, until the passengers at the Ferry Crossing began boarding one after another.
After weighing anchor, the passenger ship slowly disappeared on the river’s surface, and even those who had come to see others off had dispersed.
But the young master still hadn’t appeared.
Only that solitary, desolate figure remained at the crossing.
Indeed, he wasn’t coming.
Beneath her Veiled Hat, Qinghong lowered her eyes faintly, a self-mocking smile curling at the corners of her mouth.
What had she been hoping for?
In all these years, which man she had encountered had ever kept his word?
Suddenly, Qinghong turned and looked at the ship vanishing into the wind and snow. For a moment, she thought, why not just leave with this ship?
Just then, a gentle voice came from behind her.
“Sister Qinghong.”
Song Jin had originally planned to watch Sister Qinghong from her hiding spot and leave once she headed back, as showing herself now would only be awkward.
But then she saw Sister Qinghong take a step toward the river’s edge. A few more steps, and she might have tumbled into the water!
That wouldn’t do!
She hurriedly ran over and reached out to grab Qinghong’s sleeve.
“Xiao Jin?” Qinghong stopped abruptly, as if snapping out of a daze. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to bring you an umbrella.” Song Jin blinked, not loosening her grip in the slightest.
Qinghong naturally knew this was just a sweet excuse. Looking at her tightly held sleeve, she chuckled softly, “Then where’s the umbrella?”
“The wind and snow were too strong—the umbrella blew away halfway here!” Song Jin tugged gently on Qinghong’s sleeve, trying to pull her back from the river’s edge. “Could you help me look for it?”
Qinghong shook her head. “You go look for it yourself, Xiao Jin. I need to return to the Wang Family.”
“Go back?” Song Jin didn’t need to think hard to imagine how much effort it must have taken Qinghong to slip away, and now she was going back?
“Yes, don’t worry. They won’t do anything to me.” Qinghong replied softly, pulling her sleeve free from Song Jin’s grasp.
Song Jin wasn’t reassured. “Sister Qinghong, let me walk you back!”
Seeing Song Jin’s insistence, Qinghong didn’t refuse again.
As soon as she nodded, Song Jin quickly linked arms with Qinghong, and the two slender figures left the Ferry Crossing amid the swirling snow.
The distance from the Ferry Crossing to the Wang Family wasn’t far, but it was enough time for Qinghong to recount her story with the young master.
It wasn’t particularly complicated—just a tale of a young master who, on a whim, wanted to rescue a fallen woman, only to break his promise in the end.
Qing Hong's voice was flat, as if telling someone else's story, but she wore a veiled hat, so Song Jin couldn't see her expression.
In the wind and rain, the two walked hand in hand to the back door of Wang Manor.
Qing Hong patted Song Jin's already frost-reddened hand: "Thank you for today."
"It's nothing!" Song Jin cautiously asked: "Can I still come to deliver pastries for Sister Qinghong in the future?"
"If I want to eat, I'll send someone to notify you. It's late, hurry back."
After speaking, Qing Hong stepped toward the back door.
Two steps later, Qing Hong suddenly turned back and removed the veiled hat from her head.
This was the first time Song Jin saw her face tonight. Her eyes were blood-red, yet her gaze carried a resigned stillness.
She looked at Song Jin, as if instructing her younger sister: "Little Jin, there aren't many people in this world who keep promises. If you meet one, hold onto him tightly. Even if he doesn't like you, he must be an excellent person. You won't lose out."
The reasoning wasn't hard to understand, but coming from Qing Hong now, it was golden advice.
Song Jin took the words into her heart: "Yes, yes, I understand!"
Qing Hong smiled at Song Jin, then turned to knock at the door. After a few knocks, the door opened, and Qing Hong entered Wang Manor.
The courtyard was dark and quiet, only the lanterns hanging at Wang Manor's entrance swayed in the wind.
Song Jin stood in the wind, gazing at that unfathomably deep mansion.
It was too cold.
She wanted to go home.
The way back was harder than the journey here, but Song Jin's mind dwelled on another matter.
She hurried back to Chunliu Lane, gently pushing open the door, as her husband should be resting at this hour.
Yet just as she pushed open the door, creaking over the snow back to the house, Xie Qiao's originally tightly closed door suddenly opened.
Xie Qiao's cool voice came: "Ah Jin, the wind and snow are so heavy, where did you just go?"
"Husband, you haven't rested yet?"
Song Jin turned upon hearing this, seeing Xie Qiao standing at his doorway, a sliver of light leaking from the door illuminating his face.
In the haze, his facial contours were distinct, his tall stature nearly level with the doorframe.
Such a figure, truly befitting the description of tall and graceful.
But he hadn't slept yet, appearing here waiting for her.
Was he worried about her?
Thinking this, Song Jin lifted her already stiffened lips, smiling gently as she explained: "I just went out to meet a sister. She married today, I went to bid her farewell."
Song Jin blinked, smoothing the tears frozen in her eyes.
She stood obediently at the doorway, only wanting to speak a few more words with her husband.
But—
Xie Qiao nodded: "Mm, then rest early."
Just…
that?
The snowflakes falling on Song Jin's shoulders drooped like Song Jin herself. She lowered her head, sniffing: "Alright."
Then feeling insufficient, she added: "Then husband, you too."
"Good."
After one word, Xie Qiao turned back into his room, closing the door tightly.
Song Jin stood alone at the doorway, stunned.
That's it?
Looking at that tightly closed door, her heart felt blocked.
After a few breaths, Song Jin entered her room alone, despondent. She lit a candle, wanting to pour herself some water, but the tea was icy cold.
Song Jin sat weakly at the table, propping her chin with her hand.
This isn't right.
They are husband and wife. In such cold weather, they should sleep together warmly. What kind of husband and wife are they now, separated by two doors!
And Sister Qing Hong was right today.
When you meet a good man, you must seize him!
Xie Qiao is so trustworthy, he must be a good person, and he is so handsome, exactly the type she likes.
But, how can she get into his room?
Song Jin changed her posture, lying on the table, her small face like a sunflower seed buried in her arms.
The room only had one small stove. In the past, she hadn’t felt particularly cold, but perhaps today the wind and snow were strong, and the room was still chilly, even as if gusts of cold wind were blowing in.
Cold wind?
Song Jin suddenly sat up. She followed the direction the wind was coming from and indeed saw a crack that had opened in the corner of the wall.
The bricks inside were scattered haphazardly, as if one kick could break them open.
One kick?
Break open?
Suddenly enlightened!
A flash of insight!
Song Jin was quite clever and even more a girl who dared to think and act.
Just as she thought this, her green embroidered shoes kicked against that wall.
One kick.
Shaky and wobbling.
Two kicks.
Crooked and uneven.
Three kicks.
Crash—
It had been some time since Fu Cang left, but Xie Qiao still waited for Song Jin to return.
Fu Cang had already found this place. If someone revealed his whereabouts, Song Jin might not be safe.
Now, he went out less, and no one had seen him, so his identity would not be exposed.
But it was so late, what was a young girl like her doing out?
As he thought this, he heard the sound of Song Jin returning.
His heart settled slightly. After going out to look and confirming Song Jin had safely returned, he came back to sleep.
But just as he lay down on the bed, he heard a "crash" sound.
Xie Qiao, who was half asleep, was startled by this noise