An Zi yuan's dark eyes narrowed. "You've been too idle, haven't you, Wuxiang?" Wuxiang stomped his foot, about to offer a suggestion, but as he looked at An Zi yuan's suddenly serious expression, he was ordered, "Get out!" "Your Grace, Yun has already..." "Get out!" The tone had grown colder. Wuxiang sighed in frustration, stomping again. "Get out and then—when Yun delivers the wedding invitation to both you and Xiao Master, you'll see..." "Hmph." The sudden voice cut off Wuxiang's words. He looked up in surprise, only to see An Zi yuan having crumpled the painting on the table into a ball, his face deeply serious, making Wuxiang feel compelled to silence himself, his thoughts and complaints trapped inside. Wuxiang had never seen An Zi yuan like this before. An Zi yuan's cold gaze swept over him. "What are you still standing there for? Do you need me to personally throw you out?" "I'm leaving now—I'm leaving right away—right now!" Wuxiang managed a dry smile, quickly retreating, genuinely afraid that the furious lord might actually toss him out. Holding a warm face against a cold back, what did it matter to him whether his master liked certain women or not? Why should he go after them? What connection did it have to him? That odd woman—besides her attractive face—wasn't particularly endearing. With such a beautiful mistress, he even had to worry that she might one day cause trouble for his master, turning into a perpetual source of problems wherever she went. A man sat listlessly at the threshold, staring into the dark, still night outside, the surroundings quiet and silent. Without Yun Rao by his side, no one anymore gazed at him with those beautiful eyes, blank and entranced, nor did anyone make him feel restless or frustrated—there was something missing, though. After all, she was just an odd, quiet girl. How had he suddenly grown accustomed to her presence? "...Creak... The door suddenly swung open from inside. Unchang hurried to turn around, with a look of eager anticipation, "Master, what should I do... Hm?" His unfinished words were abruptly cut off by a lump that flew straight into his mouth. Unchang gazed down at the object lodged there, recognizing it as the painting that had been gently smoothed by An Ziyuan. He looked at An Ziyuan with a solemn, pained expression—unable to speak, even more so to remove it. An Ziyuan glanced at him once, then turned and walked away. Unchang stared at the back of An Ziyuan's figure, wanting to speak but unable to, wanting to take the paper out yet too timid to do so. He could only keep the lump in his mouth and follow with a mournful expression. "Go find out where Yun Rao is now. Give me word by tomorrow," An Ziyuan finally spoke, his voice deep and steady. "Yes, yes!" Unchang beamed with joy, pulling the paper from his mouth. An Ziyuan glanced at him briefly, and Unchang instinctively raised his hand to cover his mouth, bowing respectfully, "Subordinate will immediately attend to the matter Fled like a breeze. The next morning, as soon as it grew light, Yun Rao checked out of her room and asked the innkeeper to prepare two swift horses, heading toward the capital of Yunze, Chengzhong. "Miss, why have you decided to go to Yunze?" asked Qu Xiaoman, frowning as they both mounted and rode out of the city together. Yun Rao glanced at her. "I'd like to visit my parents." Qu Xiaoman frowned. "Miss?" Ten years ago, Yun Rao had been severely injured and unconscious when she was brought back by Xiao Run. She had never mentioned where she was originally from, and the villagers in the valley didn't know, nor did they need to know—she simply had to be considered a person from Youming Valley. "I'm from Yunze," Yun Rao offered a smile. "I once had family, but they're all gone now." Qu Xiao-man watched the smile playing at Yun Rao's lips and found herself falling silent. In the valley, most had already lost their families—or forgotten them—having survived year after year through the fierce battles and struggles. Raised in such an environment, they had to be both ruthless and resilient; the concept of "family" didn't carry much weight. Yet, the fleeting, tender smile she wore when mentioning her family stirred a sudden sense of tenderness in Qu Xiao-man. Noticing her silence, Yun Rao didn't press further. She simply smiled and said, "Well, that's enough. We'd better move quickly—otherwise, by morning we'll miss the next city and have to spend another night in the forest. I'm not sure I can endure another night of cold." Qu Xiao-man sighed with a touch of resignation, "Alright. It's been a long time since we last raced each other. Let's see who reaches the next city first." With that, she gave a graceful pull on the reins, pressed her legs firmly against the horse's flank, and with a crisp "Drive!" called out, took off first, galloping ahead. Yun Rao responded with a bright "Good!" and then followed suit, mounting Kyoto, which had seen several days of snow, finally cleared up today. Soft sunlight spilled lazily, casting a scene of serene beauty as two figures—one white and one red—rode side by side on two white horses, chasing each other in a steady rhythm along the open official road. Beyond the city, the official road stretched northward through a vast field of snow-covered wheat, bordered by the crisp green of snow and the delicate contrast of red and white silhouettes. The gentle chime of horse bells echoed in the sunlight, creating an endless sense of comfort and ease. Yun Rao felt puzzled in her heart and couldn't help turning around. Before she could fully take in the scene, her waist suddenly tightened, and a brown horse whip shot through the air, wrapping tightly around her. Startled, she pressed her palms down, exerting force to pull the whip away from her waist. But the person had moved even faster—just as the whip's end touched her waist, the person suddenly applied strong pressure, lifting her whole body. Yun Rao was swept up and carried behind the horse, where a broad, solid hand now wrapped firmly around her waist. At the same time, the horse beneath her quickened its pace and galloped forward. Everything had unfolded so swiftly that it was utterly unexpected. When Yun Rao regained her composure, she found herself securely held in the person's arms, swaying with the horse's steady motion, and the familiar scent drifting gently from above her. She turned around in a state of agitation, only to be completely stunned upon seeing the familiar, handsome face. "You... how did you end up here?" She stared at the composed, handsome face, startled into speech—his expression sent a ripple of surprise through her. The swiftly galloping, jolting horse made her feel unsteady, so she instinctively reached out and grasped at An Ziyuan’s garments. An Ziyuan maintained a cold expression, glanced down at her, then suddenly withdrew his hand from the reins, pulled her waist firmly into his arms, pressed her close, cupped her face, and firmly gripped her jaw before plunging in with a fierce, determined kiss.