Fukang'an looked up and saw Yan Ning. His steps faltered, and he stopped abruptly. He stared directly into Yan Ning's eyes. He wasn't deliberately hiding his smile, but rather he didn't want it to hurt Yan Ning.

Regarding the child, he had always favored her and believed that Yan Ning's child should be the legitimate heir. However, Wu Chun's pregnancy lessened his guilt towards De Jia considerably, and he could only assume that Buddha had recognized his sincerity and bestowed De Jia upon him again.

Wu Chun followed Fukang'an's gaze and saw Yan Ning. A hint of smugness flashed across her face, but it was fleeting and impossible to pinpoint.

She pulled up the handkerchief at the waist of her cheongsam and slowly curtsied, but Fukang'an grabbed her and said, "From now on, except for my mother's place, all other formalities are exempt!" His tone was light, but to Yan Ning's ears, it was as sharp as a cold wind.

Yan Ning slightly raised her exquisitely beautiful face, looking directly at Fukang'an's expressionless face. She was not one to crave others' obeisance, but Fukang'an's words were addressed to her. Throughout the manor, apart from the Old Madam and Fukang'an, Wu Chun only needed to bow to Yan Ning.

Lifting her crimson cheongsam, Yan Ning turned and walked back, her steps hurried and unsteady. Several times she nearly stumbled and fell, but Zhu Xiang caught her each time.

In her panicked escape, Yan Ning passed by Xi Ying's Long Pavilion Garden, but the pavilion had been shortened to half its original length. The courtyard gate was tightly closed, and the atmosphere was cold and eerie.

The paths in the east courtyard had been thoroughly trodden, yet Yan Ning still didn't want to return to Jian Gong Zhai. A thick wall separated the east and west courtyards, the grass on the wall already withered and yellow. A dark red, arched gate opened in the wall, and at its base grew withered perilla vines and some unmelted snow.

On ordinary days, people from the east courtyard rarely come to the west courtyard. The servants who clean here are not very diligent either; the melted snow water mixed with the mud makes it a filthy place.

Yan Ning looked up, but could not see the west courtyard beyond the wall. The sky was blue and the clouds were clear, with only a gentle red sun hanging in the sky, radiating a cool glow.

Zhu Xiang, accompanied by two maids, followed closely behind Yan Ning, fearing she might go to the west courtyard. No one was allowed to go to the west courtyard without the General's and the Old Madam's orders.

But Yan Ning simply stood in front of the arched doorway, staring blankly at it, her figure motionless.

As Fukang'an's footsteps approached, Zhuxiang and her two maids immediately turned and knelt down. Just as they were about to speak, Fukang'an waved his hand to stop them. He wrapped his hands around his black cloak, tying it behind his back, and watched Yan Ning's retreating figure from afar, his expression complex and indescribable.

At Zhao Xing's signal, Zhu Xiang left with two maids dressed in light purple cotton clothes. The four of them stopped and looked at Yan Ning, who was wearing a black cloak and a pearl-white cloak.

Under the cold light, they were surprisingly well-matched.

Zhu Xiang glared at Zhao Xing, her oval face full of anger. "Didn't you say that the general spends his days and nights in the study of Chunying Garden?" The day she went to Chunying Garden, Xiang'er was having a difficult childbirth, and she hadn't had a chance to tell Yan Ning about it.

Zhao Xing scratched at the animal-fur hat on his head, looking completely bewildered. He didn't quite understand matters between men and women. "Perhaps it was after Aunt Lian's accident, that time the General was drunk..."

After Xiang'er's child died, Fukang'an often got drunk. Fearing to upset Yan Ning, on one occasion, Dingming, while heavily drunk, still soberly instructed Zhao Xing to help him to Chunying Garden. The next day, he didn't emerge from the main room of Chunying Garden until dawn. Upon leaving, he told him that Yan Ning must not know about this!

Although Zhu Xiang was Zhao Xing's betrothed, he dared not speak carelessly about what his master had ordered. Besides, although Wu Chun was not a concubine in the mansion, she was nominally Fukang'an's person.

What's done is done, and there's nothing Zhu Xiang can do. Although Yan Ning is gentle by nature, she hates it most when Fu Kang'an gets close to other women. Now, who knows how many more cold nights she'll have to endure. She sighed softly as she watched Yan Ning and Fu Kang'an's contrasting black and white figures disappear into the distance.

The hot water bottle that Yan Ning was holding, which had been brought back with bamboo fragrance, had also lost its warmth. As the warmth from her hands gradually transferred to the bottle, Yan Ning realized that she had been standing there for a long time. As soon as she lifted her foot, her soles ached and went numb from the uneven soles of her flowerpot shoes.

She bent down, lifted the crimson hem of her skirt, and looked at her pink satin platform shoes with a cluster of blue tassels at the toes, which seemed out of place in the winter, and even more so incongruous with her.

She bent down and took off her platform shoes, a chill running from the soles of her feet to her very bones. She shivered, furrowing her slightly frozen brows; the makeup on her face had been dried by the winter wind. A dry, cracked pain lingered.

She slowly moved her body, turned around and went back, her watery eyes meeting Fukang'an's complicated expression.

"Smack!"

Yan Ning dropped the flowerpot-shaped shoes she was carrying to the ground, the wooden soles hitting the cold stone slab. She had no idea how long Fukang'an had been standing there; his nose was red from the cold, his thick, dark eyebrows were furrowed, and his lips were tightly pressed together.

Fukang'an loosened his hands from behind his back, took off his black riding boots and left them together with his white silk stockings. Then, barefoot, he walked towards Yan Ning and swept her up in his arms, still in shock.

Zhao Xing and Zhu Xiang each carried the shoes and socks left behind by their masters, following behind Fukang'an who was holding Yan Ning without daring to speak.

Near the west courtyard, snow and water mingled. The mixture of ice and water was extremely cold. Yan Ning wrapped her arms around Fukang'an's neck, only inches away from him. She stared at his unchanging expression, which was icy cold.

She knew that Fukang'an wanted her to know that she was his wife. No one could replace her in his heart, and he would stand by her through thick and thin, growing old together. Yan Ning rested her head on Fukang'an's chest; because they had stood in the cold wind for so long, his chest was a little cold, making her ears ache.

Having a child is a joyous occasion for any father, especially for Fukang'an, who has just suffered the pain of losing his son. However, Yan Ning was unhappy, and so was he. With many emotions tangled together, he could only look at Yan Ning with this unmoved expression.

Fukang'an carried Yan Ning from the boundary between the east and west courtyards all the way to Jiangongzhai. The two remained silent as they faced each other.

Upon seeing this, the servants in the manor all lowered their heads under Zhao Xing's reprimand. They were already used to Fukang'an's excessive pampering of Yan Ning. But Yan Ning's current state—her white silk stockings were covered in mud, and Fukang'an was also walking barefoot.

This scene makes it easy to imagine that Yan Ning is acting this way because Wu Chun is pregnant. The lady is jealous, which makes all the servants in the mansion worry about the child in Wu Chun's womb.

Upon returning to Jian Gong Zhai, Zhu Xiang immediately had hot water brought up for Yan Ning and Fu Kang An to soak their feet, and also ordered someone to brew hot ginger tea to dispel the chill from their bodies, fearing they might catch a cold again.