Since he was so obedient, Feng Lezhen didn’t make things harder for him and quietly entered the city at his side.
Their earlier commotion had already drawn the guards’ attention. Noting their refined appearances, the guards stopped them for questioning. Wenge had come prepared and answered smoothly, allowing them to pass without issue.
Though also located in a harsh region, Yingguan had developed rapidly in recent years, no longer losing out to the bustling cities of the south. Yue City, however, had stagnated. It looked much like Yingguan before Feng Lezhen’s arrival: low, tiled houses everywhere, bumpy official roads, and even now snow still clinging to the roadsides. Occasionally, children would trip and fall while playing.
At the city gate, amid the chaotic crowd, Feng Lezhen tried to spot her own people. Unfortunately, Wenge saw through her intentions and immediately left the main road, dragging her into a side alley.
As the noise faded, the chain was once again fastened to their wrists. Feng Lezhen shook the bell attached to it and looked leisurely at Wenge. “Where are you planning to take this princess?”
“Somewhere no one can find us,” Wenge replied without turning his head.
Feng Lezhen raised an eyebrow. “Let’s make this clear—I can’t endure hardship. If you dare to throw me into some random cellar, I’ll definitely cause trouble.”
“You think I’m afraid of that?” Wenge countered.
Since she’d already stated her position, Feng Lezhen didn’t press the issue further.
They wove through alley after alley that looked nearly identical. More than once, Feng Lezhen thought they were going in circles—only subtle differences told her they weren’t. Wenge, however, showed no hesitation. Clearly, he had memorized the layout long ago.
After half an hour, they entered a courtyard house.
It was a small yard with two tiled houses side by side, and a kitchen up front to the right. The property wasn’t big, but the walls were tall—clearly just recently heightened. The door had also been replaced, its lock intricately crafted. Once locked, there was no way she could escape, no matter what she did.
“You had this place prepared?” Feng Lezhen asked.
Wenge glanced at her, locked the door, then removed the chain.
Feng Lezhen smiled. “It’s only been a month since I captured your comrades. In that time, you not only dug a tunnel beneath the Princess Residence and found a way to sneak out of the city, but also quietly set up a prison like this in Yue City. Wenge, Wenge—aren’t your talents wasted on mere assassinations?”
“This alley is full of old houses. Over the past few years, people have slowly moved out. No one lives near this place anymore. Even if you scream your throat hoarse, no one will hear you. I suggest you behave these next few days and don’t get any funny ideas,” Wenge warned coolly.
Feng Lezhen neither agreed nor objected. She simply strolled around the courtyard, finally stopping at the main room. “This princess will stay here.”
Wenge didn’t care. Let her stay where she wanted.
Feng Lezhen added another request: “Go buy a few sets of clean clothes, and get a new cotton quilt.”
“That set on the bed is new,” Wenge frowned.
Feng Lezhen replied, “Don’t you think it’s too thin?”
Wenge deadpanned, “No.”
Feng Lezhen smiled, “But this princess does.”
Before he could respond, she continued, “This princess wants three new ones—two for the mattress and one for the cover. Buy the thickest ones you can find. This house is a bit old; who knows if the underfloor heating still works.”
Wenge scowled. “You’re so fussy.”
“Remember to buy some soap pods. My clothes need washing too,” Feng Lezhen leaned against the doorframe and reminded him lazily.
Wenge’s face darkened. Fearing she’d make more requests, he simply turned and left without a word. Feng Lezhen watched him go, then bolted the door from the inside and went straight back into the house. The fact that he could leave her alone here so confidently meant he was certain she couldn’t escape. Since that was the case, Feng Lezhen couldn’t be bothered to waste effort—she might as well rest.
Wenge didn’t return until midday. He’d bought everything she had asked for, along with a good amount of food. The two made do with a simple lunch, after which Wenge said he was going to take a short nap.
“Hold on,” Feng Lezhen called out. “Go make the bed for this princess.”
Wenge: “…”
“Hurry up,” Feng Lezhen urged.
Wenge took a deep breath and wordlessly went to make the bed. Seeing that he was fairly efficient, Feng Lezhen praised him a bit and then added, “Don’t forget to tidy up the room as well.”
Wenge acted like he didn’t hear, but he still did every task. By the time he finished, he wasn’t sleepy anymore. He went ahead and swept the courtyard too, patched the holes in the windows. He had originally intended to get the underfloor heating going, but after several failed attempts, he had to admit Feng Lezhen was right—
This old house was too run-down. The underfloor heating was no longer functional.
After buying the house, he’d been busy digging tunnels back in Yingguan and had been staying with someone else, not spending a single night here. He hadn’t inspected it thoroughly. Now that he was sure the underfloor system was unusable, he wiped off his sweat and looked up at the sun overhead. It was early March—he figured that even without heating, the nights shouldn’t be too bad.
The afternoon passed in a flash. They’d eaten store-bought food at noon, but by evening they had to cook themselves. Wenge hadn’t expected any help from Feng Lezhen. He spent nearly half an hour in the kitchen, and only when dinner was ready did she slowly show up and take a seat at the small courtyard table, waiting for him to serve her porridge.
“You sure eat with a clear conscience,” Wenge grumbled. He hadn’t stopped working all day, and the wound on his side was throbbing badly, leaving him with a sour expression.
Feng Lezhen, on the other hand, was calm: “You invited this Buddha, so of course you should offer incense properly.”
Wenge kept a stony face, ignoring her.
After dinner, Feng Lezhen stood up to head back inside, but paused as if remembering something. She handed him the wound medicine: “Be sure to change your dressing tonight.”
Wenge was holding a stack of dishes to carry back to the kitchen. He froze at her gesture. Feng Lezhen smiled and slipped the medicine bottle into his collar: “Consider it your compensation for serving this princess. Don’t forget to heat water later—I need to wash up and rest.”
Wenge: “…”
He didn’t want to be bossed around like a servant, but he didn’t want to owe her a favor either, so he said nothing and went into the kitchen.
After he washed the dishes and boiled a pot of hot water, a gust of cold wind hit him head-on, making him shiver. He felt a drop of moisture on his face.
Startled, it took him a moment to realize—it was snowing.
Feng Lezhen was inside combing her hair. When she heard someone enter, she instructed him to place the basin beside the bed. Wenge silently set it down. She sat on the edge of the bed, removed her shoes and socks without a care, and bent her legs slightly to test the water temperature.
Her pale feet stirred the surface of the water, sending ripples across it. Wenge instinctively wanted to look away but stopped himself—there was no point avoiding it. So he stayed where he was.
Feng Lezhen didn’t miss his hesitation. She let out a small laugh and asked, “For someone like you—a deathsworn assassin—you’ve probably seen all kinds of things. Why do you still act like a shy little boy?”
“Stop fishing for information,” Wenge shot her a warning glance.
Feng Lezhen curled her lips: “It was just a casual question. Why so defensive?”
“When has Her Highness the Eldest Princess of Hengkang ever done anything casually?” Wenge countered.
Feng Lezhen raised her brows slightly but didn’t deny it.
The water warmed to the right temperature, and she placed both feet into the basin. The steaming heat reached past her ankles, bringing a mild ticklish feeling. The warmth spread from her soles to her entire body. She narrowed her eyes in comfort, like a cat basking in the sun.
She was now dressed in the sleepwear Wenge had bought. The fabric was fine, but there wasn’t even a single embroidered flower on it. Her face was bare of makeup, and her hair loosely draped around her shoulders. Compared to the glamorous robes of the day, she now looked much more harmless. Wenge knew he shouldn’t stare, but couldn’t help sneaking another glance.
“Does it look good?” Feng Lezhen suddenly asked.
Wenge stiffened, then quickly turned his head away, face tense: “Who’s looking at you?”
That awkward tone—very much like how he was in their previous life. Feng Lezhen laughed and teased, “Could it be that we met in a past life? Why else would you feel so familiar to me?”
Wenge paused, then replied coldly, “You’re imagining things.”
“Really?” Feng Lezhen raised an eyebrow. “Maybe we really did meet.”
Wenge shot her a glance but said nothing.
Feng Lezhen didn’t notice the slight flicker of emotion on his face. She simply kept her head down, focused on soaking her feet.
Night had fully fallen. The previously quiet courtyard now echoed with howling wind. Though the doors and windows were shut tightly, the single candle inside flickered wildly, as if about to go out.
Feng Lezhen glanced at the window sealed with thick paper. “The wind’s picking up outside.”
“Mm. And it’s snowing,” Wenge replied casually.
Feng Lezhen nodded: “The weather here is always unpredictable. Cold snaps in spring are common.”
“By now, the capital’s probably already switched to summer clothes.” The mood felt somewhat peaceful, so Wenge added a comment.
Feng Lezhen smiled. “Yes, summer clothes in the capital already.”
Without the underfloor heating, the water in the basin quickly cooled. Feng Lezhen dried her feet and crawled into bed. The bedding had been prepared just as she’d requested—three of the thickest quilts from the market, all sun-dried and warm. It was impossibly comfortable.
Seeing her squint her eyes in contentment, Wenge left the room with a blank expression, carrying the basin.
“Don’t forget to shut the door tightly,” Feng Lezhen reminded lazily.
Wenge’s answer was a loud bang as he slammed the door shut.
After serving Her Highness the Eldest Princess, Wenge returned to his own side room. His quarters were on the north side, clearly colder than Feng Lezhen’s. It wasn’t until he climbed into bed that he understood why she had said the quilt was too thin—
The quilt was actually fairly thick, but that was assuming the underfloor heating was functional. Without it, in a bitterly cold place like Yue City or Yingguan, such a quilt obviously couldn’t retain warmth.
If he’d known, he would’ve bought two more blankets at the market earlier. Wenge turned over, intending to tough it out for the night. But as the blanket grew colder and his hands and feet started to ache from the chill, he realized that in a place like this, once the temperature dropped, “toughing it out” simply wasn’t an option.
There were still two or three hours until dawn. If he kept lying there like this, he might freeze to death before morning.
Rubbing his stiff, frozen hands together, Wenge got out of bed after a moment of thought and headed for the door.
The moment he opened it, a gust of wind and snow swept in, stealing what little warmth he had left. His fingers were so cold he could barely move them, and it took him quite some time to shut the door again. Just as he was about to head to the kitchen, a voice came from the master room.
“Little Bell?”
“What do you want,” Wenge snapped, ignoring the nickname.
“Come in,” she said simply.
Assuming she wanted him to do more chores, Wenge pushed open the door and entered. “What do you want now?”
“Shut the door—do you want it to get even colder?” From the small bed, only Feng Lezhen’s head was visible.
Wenge fell silent for a moment, then turned around and shut the door tightly.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked again.
Feng Lezhen gave him a glance. “That’s what I should be asking. What are you doing out of bed in the middle of the night?”
“Boiling water. To bathe,” Wenge replied bluntly.
Feng Lezhen paused, then chuckled. “You want to use hot water to warm yourself?”
“Can’t I?” he shot back.
Feng Lezhen smirked. “Of course you can. Just don’t blame me when your fingers fall off.”
Wenge frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What do you think? You’ve been in Yingguan for some time now—don’t you know that exposing cold limbs to hot water can cause necrosis?” she replied.
Wenge had been here for some time, but the places he stayed always had working underfloor heating, and he was careful to dress warmly when going out. He’d never run into that issue before. This was actually the first time he was hearing of it.
He fell silent.
Noticing his lips had turned blue from the cold, Feng Lezhen finally softened a little. “Come here.”
Wenge paused and looked at her in confusion.
“If you don’t come now, I might change my mind,” she yawned sleepily.
Wenge walked over without another word, took off his shoes, and climbed into the bed.
The bed wasn’t warm to begin with, and with him getting in, it became even colder. Feng Lezhen scooted to the side in disgust and warned him not to touch her.
“Everything else can be negotiated. But if your icy body touches mine, I will be angry,” she warned.
Though his body hadn’t warmed up yet, the heat trapped in the quilt still made him feel a little better. Hearing her complaints, Wenge replied calmly, “If you’re so disgusted, why are you helping me?”
“Because if you freeze to death, who else would serve me?” she mumbled drowsily. “Besides, I owe you a favor. I can’t just watch you die.”
“When did you ever owe me a favor?” Wenge asked, confused.
But Feng Lezhen had already fallen asleep.
The night was long. The bed gradually warmed up. Wenge laid still for a while, then finally drifted off. Since he had taken her from Yingguan until now, he hadn’t had a proper night’s rest. Now, lying in the house he had prepared long ago, the cold receding from his limbs, all his accumulated exhaustion hit him at once.
He slept deeply.
Feng Lezhen, however, drifted in and out of dreams. In the haze of sleep, she dreamed again of her past life.
Since leaving the capital, she had rarely dreamt of the past. She didn’t know if it was because Wenge was beside her, but this time she dreamt of when she had first been sent to the Cold Palace.
It had been bitterly cold then too. She would kneel for hours on the meditation mat in the main hall, often until her knees were frostbitten. She wasn’t sure when it started, but eventually there was a cotton pad on the mat. Then later, a basin of charcoal. At some point, a bowl of golden kumquats appeared on the table before her.
Time in the Cold Palace dragged endlessly, to the point that days blurred together. But after those things appeared, her days felt a little less unbearable. She began to pay attention to the person who brought her meals and sometimes stood guard outside.
“I haven’t seen you before in the palace,” she said to him once.
The boy looked at her, calmly laid out the food from the meal box, and replied, “Your Highness is noble. It’s only natural you wouldn’t know someone lowly like me.”
“Everyone in the palace should be known to me. If I don’t know you, it means you’re either not from here, or…”
“Your Highness, it’s time to eat,” he interrupted.
Feng Lezhen stared at him for a while. “What’s your name?”
He didn’t reply, just handed her a pair of chopsticks.
As he moved, the bell on his waist jingled, bringing a rare hint of life to the dead silence of the palace. For no reason at all, her mood lifted. She accepted the chopsticks and smiled faintly. “Since you won’t tell me, I’ll just call you Little Bell.”
Little Bell.
Little Bell.
“I’m not called Little Bell.”
“What’s your name then?”
“…Wenge.”
In her sleep, Feng Lezhen turned over and instinctively hugged the source of warmth beside her.
That was how Wenge was suddenly jolted awake in pain. When he opened his eyes, he thought for a moment that an assassin had attacked him. Instinctively, he grabbed the intruder’s wrist—but before he could exert any force, he realized something was off—
There was no assassin. It was just someone who moved restlessly in her sleep and happened to touch his wound.
It was still dark outside, with the cold wind howling, but inside the blanket was warm and steamy. In the darkness, Wenge frowned and pushed Feng Lezhen’s hand aside—only for her to grab hold of him again.
Her soft, warm body suddenly pressed against him, her curves molding to him like a landscape map. Wenge’s entire back stiffened in an instant, and his whole body froze. The culprit was completely unaware, blindly groping him a few times before slipping a hand down his collar.
Wenge finally came to his senses and once again caught her wrist.
“Little Bell,” she mumbled, then fell back into deep sleep.
Wenge laid stiffly for who knows how long before finally falling asleep again.
When he next woke, he was the only one left in bed. He instinctively tried to get up but paused when he noticed something unusual about his body. His brows furrowed.
“It’s already this late and you’re still in bed?” Feng Lezhen walked in from outside, holding half a radish in her hand.
Wenge met her gaze, his expression even more unnatural. “What are you doing with a radish?”
“You should be asking yourself that.” Feng Lezhen sneered. “You only bought this and didn’t even cook it for me. I was so hungry I had to eat it raw.”
She took a bite as she spoke.
Though she did it elegantly, it was still an absurd sight: Her Highness the Eldest Princess gnawing on half a raw radish. Wenge had been tending to her this whole time, and seeing her eat like this actually made him feel guilty. “…Stop eating. I’ll cook for you.”
“Mm, hurry up,” Feng Lezhen ordered.
But Wenge stayed sitting on the bed.
“You’re not going?” Feng Lezhen looked at him.
After a brief pause, Wenge said, “Can you step out first…”
Feng Lezhen laughed. “What, are you shy?”
To his credit—or shame—Wenge actually nodded.
“What’s there to be shy about? It’s not like you’re not wearing anything.” As she spoke, she walked toward him and—before he could stop her—lifted the blanket.
In an instant, Wenge instinctively tugged his clothes down to cover himself, but he couldn’t hide a certain… suspicious bulge.
Feng Lezhen hadn’t expected that this was the reason he hadn’t gotten up. After a beat of silence, she laughed. “Ah, youth.”
Wenge stormed out with a dark expression.
After nearly freezing to death and the morning’s embarrassment, Wenge hired craftsmen that afternoon at great expense. They worked until late into the night before finally repairing the underfloor heating. Once both rooms warmed up, the blankets he had originally bought were sufficient. The next morning, he went back to the market to stock up on groceries, then locked the doors securely.
Feng Lezhen hadn’t expected that, after being kidnapped, she’d end up quietly living in a random house in Yue City. Sweeping, cooking, fixing things—Wenge did it all. She, meanwhile, continued playing the part of a well-behaved hostage.
The gown she had worn while escaping the Princess Residence had been made of fine material, with intricate full embroidery—more delicate than she was herself. But after being soaked in blood and dragged along stone paths, it was already in tatters. Once Wenge tried to wash it, it was completely ruined. Now, she could only wear the floral jackets he bought.
Yes, floral jackets—paired with heavy cotton skirts. Sometimes, her cheeks would flush from the cold, and she looked just like a chubby New Year baby doll. The first time she wore it, she laughed in disbelief. But after a while, she found it oddly amusing—
If nothing else, the slim-fit narrow sleeves were surprisingly convenient.
Every day, she either sat indoors daydreaming or wandered the courtyard. When she got really bored, she’d build a snowman—but every time, it came out looking terrible. Not like Chen Jinan’s, which were always perfectly round and lovable.
After she’d completely destroyed all the snow in the yard, only three days had passed. There were still more than twenty days to go until the month was up. Just thinking about how boring the next twenty-some days might be, Feng Lezhen went to Wenge again.
“Go boards?” Wenge looked at her suspiciously. “Why do you want a Go board?”
“I’m bored. I want to pass the time,” she replied simply.
“No,” Wenge refused.
Feng Lezhen took a step back. “Then get me a calligraphy set. I’ll practice writing.”
“No,” Wenge refused again.
This time, Feng Lezhen grew unhappy. “Why not?”
“Who knows if you’ll use it to send secret messages.” Wenge gave a straightforward answer.
Feng Lezhen laughed in anger. “I don’t even know where my people are—how could I send messages?”
“Doesn’t matter. Still no.” Knowing he wasn’t as clever as her, Wenge decided to just deny everything outright and avoid trouble.
Feng Lezhen narrowed her eyes but quickly calmed down. “Then tell me what I can have. I still have to stay here for over twenty days. I need something to pass the time.”
Wenge paused, seemingly convinced.
By that evening, he came back with a sandbag, a leather ball for cuju, and a feathered shuttlecock.
“Go play,” he said.
Feng Lezhen: “…”
After a moment of silence, she picked up the shuttlecock, bounced it a bit, and asked, “Do you know how to play?”
“I do,” Wenge replied.
“Then join me?” she invited.
Wenge looked at her with a blank face.
Feng Lezhen didn’t take that as a refusal. After all, with everything they had been through—both in this life and the previous one—she knew him well enough.
He seemed cold and aloof, hard to approach, but in truth he was simple at heart. The fact that he would buy such things for a princess said a lot about his nature. Sure enough, after a long silence, Wenge agreed.
“What’s the point in just playing? Why not add a little wager?” Feng Lezhen smiled.
Wenge: “Give it up. I’m not letting you go.”
“Did I say you had to let me go?” Feng Lezhen chuckled. “We’ll only bet on things that can be done inside this courtyard.”
Wenge’s expression relaxed slightly—he was agreeing.
“Alright, then let’s compete in shuttlecock kicking. One turn each, whoever kicks more wins. If I win…” Feng Lezhen’s lips curved, “you have to run ten laps around the courtyard shirtless.”
Wenge: “I’ve trained in martial arts since I was young—my agility is far above yours. Are you sure you want to bet?”
Feng Lezhen gave a soft laugh. “By the time I learned to kick a shuttlecock, you probably weren’t even born yet.”
In that case, there was nothing more to say. Wenge thought for a moment. “The lunch dishes haven’t been washed. If I win, you go wash them.”
“Deal.”
The two exchanged a look, then headed into the courtyard together.
Perhaps they had been bored for too long—now that they had something to do, both were especially focused. Wenge went first. Not knowing Feng Lezhen’s skill level, he took it very seriously. On the final kick, he even used light footwork, ending with over fifty kicks.
When it was Feng Lezhen’s turn, she only kicked three times before dropping it.
Wenge: “…” All that effort he’d just made felt like a joke now.
True to her word, Feng Lezhen rolled up her sleeves and went into the kitchen.
This was probably her first time washing dishes in her life. Despite being very cautious, there was still a lot of clattering. She managed to finish them—barely.
“Want to bet another round?” she asked.
Wenge: “What’s the bet?”
“Still shuttlecock kicking.” Feng Lezhen seemed determined to outdo him.
Wenge didn’t care: “Name your terms.”
“If I win, you skip dinner tonight.” Feng Lezhen crossed her arms.
Wenge: “Then if I win, you eat three steamed buns for dinner.”
“Deal.”
Dusk had already fallen. This time, Feng Lezhen went first. She looked solemnly at the shuttlecock in her hand as though it were some priceless treasure. Watching her so focused, a faint smile crept up on Wenge’s lips—but when he noticed himself smiling, he quickly wiped it away and returned to his cold expression.
“Begin!” Feng Lezhen tossed the shuttlecock up, lifted her skirt slightly, and started kicking. “One, two, three, four…”
She stopped at six this time.
“Improving,” said Wenge, the previous round’s champion who had kicked over fifty. He didn’t sound very sincere.
Feng Lezhen gave him a glance. “Don’t get cocky. You might not do better.”
Wenge shot her a sideways look, grabbed the shuttlecock, and started.
“One, two, three…” Feng Lezhen did the counting. On the fourth kick, she suddenly looked up toward the high wall. “Ah Ye!”
Wenge’s gaze sharpened, and he instantly turned to look.
There was nothing on the wall. And the shuttlecock fell to the ground.
“You cheated,” he said darkly.
Feng Lezhen remained calm. “Was there a rule that said no cheating?”
Wenge: “…”
“Go make dinner,” Feng Lezhen said with a smile. “And remember—just one serving.”
Wenge went into the kitchen with a dark expression. As soon as he picked up the pot to cook, his hand came away greasy.
…Didn’t she say she washed them? He stood silently for a long while, then ended up re-washing everything himself.
By the time dinner was ready, two quarters of an hour had passed. True to his word, he only made one portion.
Feng Lezhen took a sip of the porridge and looked surprised. “Did you add sugar?”
“Mm.” Wenge was still upset about being cheated and responded lazily without looking at her.
Feng Lezhen smiled and took another spoonful. “So sweet. Perfectly cooked, too. I’d say this is the best porridge you’ve made these past few days.”
Wenge’s stomach rumbled loudly, but he said nothing.
“So sweet…” Feng Lezhen sighed again.
Wenge knew she was deliberately teasing him. He stood up to walk away—but before he could take a step, his robe was tugged.
“You should eat some too. It’s not right to stay hungry in this cold,” Feng Lezhen said gently.
Wenge looked down at her from above. “I only cooked one bowl.”
“Then I’ll share half with you.” Feng Lezhen said, going to fetch a bowl and dividing it evenly.
Wenge hadn’t expected her to actually do it, and for a moment, his heart softened. But that stubborn pride of youth still lingered: “I lost, so I should stick to the bet.”
“The bet was ‘no dinner’—this is porridge, not rice,” Feng Lezhen said, arguing shamelessly.
Wenge was about to refuse again when Feng Lezhen suddenly brought a spoonful to his lips. “Ah—”
He opened his mouth reflexively. As the warm porridge slid over his tongue, he looked up and met Feng Lezhen’s smiling eyes.
“Is it good?” she asked.
“…Mm.”
