Liyu's POV
The sky was a velvet blue when I stood beside Han Rui's bed, adjusting the corner of his quilt. The scent of herbal medicine lingered in the room. His wound was healing slowly, though the pain still cast faint shadows over his otherwise unreadable expression.
> "I have to go back," I said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "But… I'll return to check on you."
He met my gaze, something tired but patient in his eyes.
> "Okay. I'll wait for you."
With a final glance, I left his personal residence. The cold air hit me immediately as I stepped out, but it couldn't compare to the chill growing inside me.
Fengxi's POV
I was just closing the gates of Bao Lai when I heard hurried footsteps crunch through the frost.
> "Master, I'm back."
My breath caught. I turned sharply—and there she was. Liyu. Her figure stood beneath the archway, her silhouette outlined by the falling snow, cheeks flushed from cold.
Without hesitation, I stepped forward and embraced her.
> "Finally," I whispered against her shoulder. "You came back."
She returned the embrace, briefly but silently. Her eyes lowered.
From behind, Yilin's voice carried faintly.
> "Miss Liu, I've locked the shop."
> "Good," I said. "I'm taking Liyu to my room."
Inside, I closed the door with a firm thud and turned to face her.
> "How are you? Is everything alright?"
> "Don't worry, Master. I'm fine. Everything's done," she replied, eyes avoiding mine.
> "Then explain," I said, folding my arms. "You said it would only take a few hours. You've been gone for three days."
She didn't answer. Then, without warning, she dropped to her knees.
> "Master… I deserve punishment."
My heart tensed. I stepped closer.
> "Why? What happened?"
Still on her knees, she looked up—eyes heavy with guilt.
> "I made a mistake."
> "Tell me everything."
And she did. Every word. What happened between her and Han Rui. Her tone was soft but steady. She didn't defend herself.
The blow I delivered wasn't premeditated. It came from somewhere deeper—hurt, disappointment.
> "The first time wasn't your fault," I said, voice low. "But this time… you lied. You chose to cross the line."
She bowed deeper.
> "I won't ask forgiveness. Just give me punishment."
> "Then go," I said, coldly. "Wait outside. Kneel. Don't move until I call for you."
She didn't hesitate. She stood, bowed again, and left.
Snow had started to fall.
I opened the window. A sharp wind swept through the room, laced with winter's first bite. I could feel the cold through the thin silk of my sleeve. Outside, white blanketed the courtyard. Silence fell with the snow.
I didn't light the brazier.
A knock came at the door.
Yilin's voice followed, worried and urgent.
> "Miss Liu! Why is Miss Liyu outside? It's snowing. She'll get sick!"
I opened the door just enough to meet her eyes.
> "Go to your room."
> "Miss Liu, that's cruel! Liyu always protects you. She obeys every order. And you're punishing her like this?"
> "Silence!" I snapped. "If you care that much, go kneel with her. Or leave Bao Lai."
Yilin's lips parted, ready to argue—but another voice rose from the courtyard.
> "Yilin. Go back to your room," Liyu called out, her voice clear despite the snow. "Don't speak to Master that way. I deserve this. Don't worry about me."
Yilin hesitated… then with a sigh, she walked into the snow and knelt beside Liyu.
> "What are you doing?" Liyu asked without turning.
> "If you kneel, I kneel," Yilin said stubbornly.
> "You're ridiculous."
> "Then I guess I am."
I closed the door slowly and sat on the floor, back against the cold wall. My limbs felt heavy.
I wished she would give up. I wished she would walk back inside so I could pretend to stay angry.
But I knew her too well. If I didn't punish her now, she'd carry the guilt forever. And I… I didn't know how to deal with this feeling inside me.
Liyu's POV
The snow kept falling. My shoulders were dusted white. But I stayed still.
Beside me, Yilin shivered quietly.
> "You should go in," I said.
> "Not unless you do."
> "This is my punishment, not yours."
> "What did you do that made her so angry?" she asked.
I didn't answer.
> "Then why take it so seriously? We could sneak back in and she'd never know."
I turned slightly, eyes soft.
> "Because I know her. If I don't take this seriously, she'll never forgive me. And she'll never forgive herself either."
Yilin stayed quiet, hugging her knees for warmth.
> "Let's go to my room," she said eventually. "In the morning, before she wakes up, we'll come back out and sit. She won't know."
I didn't move.
> "I can't betray her," I said. "You think she's sleeping peacefully inside?"
She blinked.
> "Isn't she?"
I looked ahead, voice low but firm.
> "Go to the window. See for yourself."
Yilin hesitated, then stood and hurried quietly to the corner of the inn. When she came back, her eyes were wide—filled with something between disbelief and sorrow.
> "Liyu… she… Miss Liu is sitting on the ground," she said softly. "No blanket. Just her inner robe. No fire. She's freezing too…"
I closed my eyes for a moment.
> "She's not the type to give pain without sharing it," I whispered.
Yilin looked at me, concern swimming in her eyes.
> "You really love her, don't you?"
> "She's more than my master."
The snow thickened. Wind curled around the courtyard like a breath held too long.
> "Go back to your room, Yilin."
She hesitated, then nodded, and silently stood and disappeared through the hall.
I stayed.
And the snow did too.