Wen Yan parked the car at the foot of the mountain.

Outside, the heavy snow continued to fall.

There were hardly any pilgrims here today.

He opened the car door, and a gust of cold wind mixed with a few snowflakes rushed in.

The cold wind was biting, and he couldn't help but shrink his neck.

Wen Yan went to the back seat, opened the car door, and Fu Xiaohan, wearing a long black cashmere coat that went past his knees, got out of the car.

He took off his outer garment and handed it to Wenyan.

Wen Yan's pupils widened. "Master Han, what's wrong?"

He said, "I pray for blessings."

Wen Yan knew it was for praying for blessings; everyone who came here was there to pray for blessings.

Master Han has traveled a long way to come here; without a doubt, he must be here for the young mistress.

The outside temperature is below -10 degrees Celsius.

Even wearing thick cotton clothes, I was shivering from the cold.

Moreover, Master Han had taken off his outer coat, revealing that he was only wearing a thin black suit underneath.

How can the body withstand that?

When Wen Yan wanted to say something.

Fu Xiaohan took a step and came to the bottom step.

Under Wen Yan's shocked gaze, Fu Xiaohan knelt on the snow-covered steps.

The black suit trousers, imprinted on the white snow, were so striking.

Wen Yan stared in disbelief as the esteemed Master Han actually bent his knees and knelt down!

Han Ye has always been unruly and rebellious. He neither kneels to heaven nor to earth, and he has never believed in gods or Buddhas. In fact, one could say he scoffs at them.

Such a noble person.

Now, for the sake of the young mistress, he actually knelt down!

Master Han went to such lengths for his young mistress; he truly loves her to the core.

Wen Yan was deeply moved by what he saw.

He took an umbrella from the car, rushed forward, and held it up for Fu Xiaohan.

All I heard were two words escaping from his thin lips: "Take it away."

"Master Han, the snow is falling too heavily..."

“I don’t want to say it a second time,” he said in a deep voice.

Wen Yan's attempts to dissuade him failed. Seeing that Fu Xiaohan's attitude was extremely serious, he had no choice but to put away his umbrella and stand silently behind him.

In no time, the man's black suit was stained with shimmering silver snowflakes, which softened his proud demeanor.

With hands clasped together, a stiff back bent, head bowed, and helplessly lying on the ground, a mixture of expectation and powerlessness swirled within him.

His attitude was extremely devout, and he prayed constantly in his heart.

He knelt from the foot of the mountain to the top, taking one thousand and eighty-eight steps, bowing his head with each step, wishing only that his wife be free from suffering.

Wen Yan, who was following behind him, already had tears in his eyes.

This was the first time he had ever seen Master Han so humble.

Such helplessness.

Wen Yan repeatedly tried to kneel down for him, and he knelt down instead.

But Fu Xiaohan wouldn't allow it.

They were afraid that their hearts were not sincere and that the gods and Buddhas would be displeased.

Every step bears the mark of his devout footsteps.

Wen Yan could only follow silently behind him, praying for the young mistress in his heart.

Pilgrims who passed by were all moved by his sincerity.

"This person has really had a tough time. I hope his prayers will come true."

"Yes, it's snowing so heavily. He knelt up step by step. Look, his clothes are all wet and his hair is still dripping. He probably came for his family. I hope he can get what he wants."

Two female pilgrims, holding umbrellas, passed by him.

Heading down the mountain.

Fu Xiaohan felt a piercing pain in his knees, but he silently endured it. His lips were frozen purple, and his body was stiff as if he had lost all feeling as he arrived at the gate.

He stepped across the threshold and entered the main hall, where incense smoke wafted and candlelight flickered.

He dragged his heavy, cold body to the Buddha, knelt on the prayer mat, clasped his hands together, closed his eyes, and began to pray devoutly.

"I implore the gods to bless my wife with peace and health, so that she may live a carefree life and be free from pain. I am willing to bear all the suffering for my wife. I pray to the gods and Buddhas for protection."

He continued to pray, kneeling quietly on the prayer mat, without moving an inch.

The sky gradually darkened, and night fell.

He knelt before the gods and Buddhas with utmost devotion, praying that they would bless his wife with peace and health.

Wen Yan stood outside the hall, watching all this. For some reason, his nose felt sore, and he raised his hand to wipe away the tears from the corner of his eyes.

He knelt all day, from morning till night, without eating a single bite. His face turned pale, his lips turned white, his vision gradually blurred, and his body became unsteady, eventually falling to one side.

Upon seeing this, Wen Yan rushed in as fast as he could.

She reached Fu Xiaohan's side and caught him in time.

When Fu Xiaohan woke up again.

In a monk's quarters.

"Master Han, you're finally awake!"

Wen Yan, who was standing by, felt relieved when he saw his master Han open his eyes and hurriedly went to help him up.

"How did I get here?" He got out of bed.

Wenyan explained to him, "You just fainted, and it was this Master Zhijian who brought you here."

As soon as he finished speaking, an elderly man wearing a red kasaya and with a white beard slowly stepped forward.

He looked at Fu Xiaohan, put his hands together and said, "Amitabha."

Fu Xiaohan bowed to the host.

"Your sincerity is appreciated by the Buddha, who guides those with affinity. This 18-bead Bodhi bead is given to you, and may all your wishes be fulfilled."

The host presented him with a bracelet made of eighteen different beads.

Fu Xiaohan accepted it with both hands, "Thank you."

The eighteen seeds symbolize the eighteen kinds of afflictions in the world, and also represent the eighteen precepts in Buddhism. Each time a seed is turned, it means removing one kind of affliction.

The host reminded, "Wear it on your left wrist for the first few days and avoid getting it wet."

Fu Xiaohan took it down carefully.

It's getting late.

If Mi'er wakes up and doesn't see him, she'll definitely be very anxious.

Fu Xiaohan and Wen Yan bid farewell to the abbot and left the temple.

The snow outside has stopped.

The car's interior lights were on.

Wenyan started the car.

The black Rolls-Royce left deep tire tracks in the thick snow and sped away.

"Let's go to Qingmi Manor first," Fu Xiaohan said from the back seat.

Wen Yan responded, "Yes, Master Han."

Qingmi Manor is a beautiful manor that Fu Xiaohan built specifically for Tang Xingmi.

It's filled with all her favorite flowers and plants, as well as various buildings, hot springs, and so on.

Tang Xingmi had been here before and even soaked in the hot spring.

He was covered in dampness and was afraid of infecting Mi'er.

Furthermore, given his current state, if he were to return, Mi'er would surely be worried.

He needed to go to Qingmi Manor to take a bath, remove the dampness from his body, and change into clean clothes before he could return to the Fu Family Manor to see his Mi'er.

Wen Yan drove attentively, while Fu Xiaohan leaned back in the back seat, closing his eyes and pretending to sleep.

Looking through the rearview mirror, I saw that Han Ye looked exhausted and haggard.

Wen Yan was quite moved.

Although Master Han is usually cold-blooded and strict with them, they have been by his side for so many years.

This was the first time he had ever seen Master Han so powerless.

If it weren't for Master Han bringing him back to the Fu family back then...

He probably starved to death on the streets long ago.

I wouldn't be who I am now.

It can be said that Fu Xiaohan is not only his superior, but also his savior.

Without Han Ye, there would be no him.

Today, I saw Master Han kneeling before the Buddha, praying devoutly for his young mistress.

He felt a pang of heartache.

The car slowly came to a stop outside the villa.

Seeing his condition, Wen Yan couldn't bear to wake him. "Master Han, we've arrived."