Chapter 3: Kneeling in the Snow, Sick and Dying

The snow was falling more and more violently.

At first, there were only scattered snowflakes, hitting the face like fine sand, and then it turned into heavy snow, falling down in clumps and clusters. In less than half an hour, the bluestone slabs in the courtyard were covered tightly, and even the red lanterns under the corridor were wrapped in a layer of white frost, revealing an indescribable desolation.

Yun Zhi knelt in the snow, her thin, light-blue skirt soaked through. The damp, cold fabric clung to her body, like countless ice needles piercing the cracks between her bones. Her knees pressed against the frozen, hardened ground. At first, she felt a piercing pain, but then it went completely numb, leaving only a deadly chill that crawled up her calves and even her heart, as if frozen solid.

The burns on the back of her hand hadn't healed yet, and several blisters had broken open. The blood and snow mixed with the icy water, forming a thin crust of ice on her wrist, which hurt when she moved. She tried to raise her hand to smooth her wind-torn hair, but her arm felt heavy as if it were filled with lead. She fell halfway, landing in the snow with a small splash of snow foam.

"Cough cough..." A gust of cold wind blew snow into her throat. Yun Zhi couldn't help but cough violently. Her chest was shaking and aching, and the pain in her lower abdomen also surged up, as if something was stirring inside. The pain made her forehead break out in a layer of cold sweat, which instantly turned into ice.

There were no servants walking around anymore. Perhaps it was because the weather was too cold, or perhaps they were afraid of being contaminated by the bad luck of being a "criminal slave". Even the nanny who was in charge of looking after her had hidden in the side room next to her, only occasionally poking her head out and casting a look of contempt.

Yun Zhi lowered her head, looking at her frozen purple fingertips. Snowflakes landed on them and quickly melted, leaving behind a few cold stains. She recalled the look in Xiao Jin's eyes last night in the wedding hall as he pinched her chin and fed her medicine. It had been so cold, so cruel, as if she were an unforgivable enemy.

What did she do wrong?

Her father was a loyal minister, and the Imperial Tutor's family had been clean for generations. Suddenly, they were accused of treason and executed. She managed to survive, but was used as a substitute by Xiao Jin, suffering endless humiliation. She didn't even know where Xiao Jin's hatred for the Imperial Tutor's family came from.

The snow fell heavier and heavier, and her vision gradually blurred. Yun Zhi felt her eyelids growing heavier, and the sound of the wind in her ears seemed to be far away, yet also near, a buzzing sound that made her drowsy.

No...I can't sleep...

She bit her lower lip, trying to use the pain to wake herself up. Her lips had long been numb from the cold, and with a little force, a crack appeared. The smell of blood filled her mouth, bringing with it a hint of warmth, slightly dispelling the chill.

At this moment, out of the corner of my eye I seemed to catch a glimpse of a familiar figure standing by the window on the second floor of the main hall.

Is it Xiao Jin?

Yun Zhi's heart skipped a beat, and she instantly forgot the pain. She struggled to raise her head and look in that direction.

The snow was so heavy that a layer of white mist covered the windows. Only a tall figure, dressed in a dark robe, could be vaguely seen. His figure was exactly the same as Xiao Jin's. He stood there, as if looking at the snow in the courtyard, but also as if looking at her.

A faint glimmer of hope suddenly emerged in Yunzhi's heart.

Maybe... maybe he felt a little distressed when he saw her like this? Maybe he was just confused for a moment and didn't really want her to die?

She opened her mouth, wanting to call him "Prince," but her throat felt like it was clogged with cotton, and no sound came out. She could only stare at the figure, her eyes filled with a hint of pleading and expectation.

The figure stood by the window for a moment, neither moving nor speaking.

Yun Zhi held her breath and stared at him closely, forgetting to wipe the snow off her face. She felt that time was passing so slowly, and every second seemed like torture.

But the next second, the figure moved. He didn't open the window, nor did he go downstairs. He just turned around and disappeared behind the window.

As if it had never appeared.

The hope that had just been ignited was instantly extinguished by cold water, and even my heart felt cold.

Yun Zhi looked at the empty window, a bitter smile curling her lips. She was so foolish to still hold out hope for Xiao Jin. He only had Shen Qingyue in his heart, and only hatred for the Imperial Tutor's Mansion. She was just a substitute, and if she died, it would only mean another one.

Her consciousness grew increasingly hazy, and her body began to tremble uncontrollably, not from the cold, but from extreme weakness. She felt the snow begin to spin before her eyes, and the sound of the wind in her ears grew fainter and fainter, until it disappeared completely.

Before she completely lost consciousness, she seemed to hear someone talking in her ear, but it seemed like an illusion.

"What a miserable life... He's still alive even after being frozen like this..."

"Who cares about her? It was the prince who made her kneel. She deserves to die..."

Then, I knew nothing.

…

In the study on the second floor of the main hall, Xiao Jin stood by the window, holding a cup of cold tea in his hand.

Just now, by the window, he had indeed seen that frail figure in the snow. Her blue skirt was stained white by the snow, and she huddled there like a weed about to freeze to death, unable even to lift her head.

For some reason, I felt like something was blocking my chest, making me feel stuffy and a little irritable.

He told himself that it was just because Yun Zhi looked like Qing Yue, and he didn't want to lose this face. After all, it was not easy to find a substitute who looked so much like Qing Yue.

But when he saw her raise her head with such humble expectation in her eyes, he subconsciously turned and left.

He didn't like that look, didn't like the way she looked at him, as if he was her lifeline, as if he was very important to her.

This made him feel irritated.

A sin slave, a substitute, no one deserves to have any expectations of him.

"Your Highness." The butler's voice came from outside the door, with a hint of caution, "Outside... Miss Yun... seems to have fainted."

Xiao Jin's fingers tightened around the teacup, their knuckles turning white. He was silent for a moment, his voice as cold as the snow outside the window: "Drag him to the abandoned courtyard."

The housekeeper was stunned for a moment, then asked tentatively, "Your Highness, do you want to ask a doctor to take a look? The snow is so heavy, if we delay any longer, I'm afraid..."

"No need." Xiao Jin interrupted him, his tone calm, "Just don't let her die."

The last few words were spoken in an exceptionally cold and harsh voice, but if one listened carefully, one could detect a subtle hint of irritation, as if he was suppressing something.

The butler didn't dare to ask any more questions, and quickly replied "yes", turned around and walked out.

Silence returned to the study. Xiao Jin walked to the desk and picked up a painting. The painting showed a woman in a pink dress with gentle eyes. It was Shen Qingyue.

He stared at the painting for a long time, his fingers gently brushing the cheek of the woman in the painting, his eyes full of tenderness, completely different from the coldness he had shown towards Yun Zhi just now.

"Qingyue," he whispered softly, his voice trembling slightly, "I will definitely find the person who hurt you and avenge you. That Yunzhi is just a substitute. I won't let her affect us..."

But for some reason, the thin figure in the snow and her eyes full of expectation when she looked up kept flashing through my mind.

He frowned, threw the painting back on the table, and picked up the memorial beside him, trying to use official business to dispel those inappropriate thoughts. But when his eyes fell on the memorial, he couldn't read a single word. The irritation in his heart became more and more intense.

…

The abandoned courtyard was located in the farthest corner of the palace. No one had taken care of it all year round. The weeds in the yard were taller than people, and several tiles on the roof were broken. The cold wind wrapped in snow poured in through the holes, fell on the ground, and soon accumulated into a layer.

Two servants pinched their noses and dragged the unconscious Yun Zhi into a dilapidated room and threw her on the cold wooden bed.

"It's so unlucky! I feel dirty just touching it." A maidservant spat and patted the snow off her hands. "Your Highness, why keep such a sickly thing around? It would be better if he died."

"Don't talk nonsense, or the prince might hear you." Another maid pulled her aside and said, "Let's just leave her here and leave it to fate."

After they finished talking, they turned around and left without even closing the door, letting the cold wind and snow pour into the room.

Yunzhi lay on the cold wooden bed, her body scalding, her consciousness still hazy. She felt like she had fallen into a boundless black hole, all around her cold, only occasionally a faint glimmer of light would appear, like a mother's hand, gently stroking her forehead, saying, "Zhi'er, don't be afraid."

But that little light soon disappeared, leaving only endless darkness and coldness.

Her breathing became weaker and weaker, her chest rose and fell slower and slower, and her face was as pale as paper. Only the teardrop mole at the corner of her eye still showed a faint bright color, like the last stubborn red in the snow.

The snow was still falling, and the room in the abandoned hospital was freezing cold.

No one knew whether this woman who was thrown into the abandoned hospital could survive this cold night.

No one knew that at this moment in the study, the cold and hard man was facing a table full of untouched memorials, his fingers unconsciously stroking the edge of the teacup, his eyes full of irritation and anxiety that he himself was not aware of.