In the dead of winter, the whole world seems to be shrouded in a cold and heavy veil. The biting cold is like countless fine needles hidden in the air, penetrating everywhere, wantonly piercing through clothing and reaching the bone marrow.

With each breath, I could feel the icy coldness rushing into my lungs from my nasal cavity, as if even the exhaled air would instantly freeze into frost.

The biting north wind, like a sharp whistle, carrying endless cold and desolation, roared and howled from the distant horizon, sweeping in with overwhelming force.

The wind howled wildly across the open plains, its sound like a thousand horses galloping past, making one's eardrums ache.

The wind made the withered yellow grass by the roadside tremble and rustle softly, as if it were a painful groan under the bullying of the cold wind.

Every withered blade of grass swayed helplessly in the wind. Their fragile forms appeared so small and vulnerable under the whirlwind's relentless manipulation, as if whispering the bleakness of winter and the hardships of survival.

They struggled desperately, but could not escape the control of the cold wind, and could only let their fate dictate their actions.

At this moment, Xia Wan and her brother Xia Tao were hurrying along the winding path, their figures appearing somewhat thin and small against the backdrop of the cold wind.

This path is their only way home. Over the years, they have traveled back and forth on this path countless times. Every blade of grass and every pothole along the way is etched deep in their memory.

In spring, wildflowers bloom by the roadside, and they would stop to pick them; in summer, the puddles washed out by the rain were where they used to play; in autumn, golden fallen leaves covered the path, rustling underfoot.

But at this moment, their hearts were filled with anxiety, and they had no leisure to appreciate the scenery along the way.

Their steps were hurried and heavy, each step firm and powerful, yet tinged with a hint of panic, as if something terrible was chasing them closely behind, or as if something of utmost importance was urgently calling them from ahead.

As they drew closer, the village's outline gradually became clearer in their view.

The familiar scene rushed towards me like a tidal wave: wisps of smoke rising from chimneys, carrying the warmth and aroma of home, drifted leisurely into the cold sky, adding a touch of coziness to this icy world.

The smoke from the chimney rose slowly, mingling with the cold air to form a light mist, as if the warmth of home was warding off the harsh cold outside.

The houses, arranged in a charming, staggered pattern, hold countless memories and stories. Each house has witnessed their growth, with laughter, tears, arguments, and reconciliations.

Behind that mottled wooden door, the joyful laughter of a family sitting around a table for meals once drifted out; through that small window, their figures could be seen studying late into the night.

However, Xia Wan's mind was not on the long-lost beauty of the countryside. Her brows furrowed slightly, like two small hills, and her eyes revealed a hint of anxiety and unease—a deep worry about the unknown and a sense of helplessness about the future.

Her steps were hurried and frantic, as if driven by an invisible force, and she dared not stop for a moment, as if if she stopped, she would be completely swallowed up by some terrible predicament.

"Brother, I just saw something." Xia Wan finally broke the long silence, her voice filled with barely concealed urgency.

The north wind was like a mischievous child, tearing her words into fragments. By the time they reached Xia Tao's ears, they were already somewhat indistinct, as if veiled by a thin gauze.

Her hair was disheveled by the wind, with a few strands flying wildly around her face, sometimes obscuring her worried eyes and blurring her vision, adding to her sense of panic.

She raised her hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, but as soon as she put it down, new strands of hair were blown up by the wind.

Xia Tao turned his head slightly, his gaze, which had been focused on the rugged road ahead, slowly shifted to his sister's face.

His eyes were full of concern, as if he could see through his sister's unease. His gaze was like warm sunshine, trying to dispel the gloom in his sister's heart.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, his voice deep and steady, like a calm lake that could encompass all ripples, providing his sister with a solid support no matter what difficulties she faced.

On this cold winter day, his voice was like a warm flame, bringing Xia Wan a bit of comfort and calming her flustered heart.

He subconsciously moved closer to his sister, trying to shield her from the cold wind with his own body.

“I went to Liu Cuilan’s house. After that man left, she was all alone in the house. But she seemed to be doing well and was in good spirits.”

As Xia Wan spoke, she unconsciously quickened her pace, as if trying to dispel all the unease in her heart with her rapid steps.

She spoke very quickly, as if afraid that if she stopped, the thoughts that troubled her would overwhelm her like a tide.

His words carried a hint of barely perceptible doubt, as if he were pondering whether there was some unknown secret hidden behind Liu Cuilan's seemingly peaceful life, and whether there was an undercurrent of turmoil beneath that calm.

She kept replaying the scene she saw at Liu Cuilan's house in her mind, scrutinizing every detail, trying to find some clues.

"It doesn't matter, does it?" Xia Tao nodded gently, his expression relaxing slightly, his tense shoulders drooping as if he had let go of a heavy burden. "Anyway, our father isn't back, so they can't plot against us."

He squinted slightly, gazing into the distance, as if trying to see the truth through the layers of mist.

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