Chapter Three: Meeting Again

“Miss, do you think the person this woman is calling for will actually come? Should we try to help her?”
Wen Xian had been abducted, and Xue Fanzhi was hiding on a nearby hillside. She had originally run away, failing to encounter Wen Xian, but by chance she spotted some refugees hiding up ahead. Unexpectedly, Wen Xian had not managed to hide.

Should they help or not?

She had only three people with her, plus Wen Xian’s six, while the other side had eight men. The odds weren’t good, and she still needed to be sure Wen Xian was on their side.

But they could at least buy time; Xiao Yi should be nearby and likely wouldn’t suffer much.

But should she really help? That person was Wen Xian, after all. Don’t think she didn’t know—every plot against the prince, every harm to palace concubines, had been Wen Xian’s doing, and she always shifted the blame onto Xue Fanzhi. If not for Xiao Yi standing by her, she would have been killed by Wen Xian long ago.

“Don’t help!”
Xue Fanzhi said resolutely.

But in the next instant, she rushed out.

Hong Lian and Hong Xiao: “…”

Hong Lian called out, “Miss, weren’t we going to stay out of it?”

Down below, the refugees had already started tearing off a maid’s clothes. If they didn’t intervene now, the girl would be ruined; Xue Fanzhi couldn’t care about anything else. She grabbed a stick and swung it while their guard was down.

Seeing this, Hong Lian and Hong Xiao followed suit.

By the time Wen Xian noticed the refugees hesitating, she saw Xue Fanzhi.

Wen Xian: “…”

Xue Fanzhi, stick in hand, made her way to Wen Xian’s side, keeping the refugees at bay while saying, “Grab a weapon! Don’t just stand there!”

Wen Xian finally came to her senses and, together with her maid, started searching for sticks.

Zhang San and his men recovered quickly after being hit. Seeing that only three girls had joined, Zhang San, clutching his head, threatened, “Nine—excellent. We thought there weren’t enough. Now none of you will escape.”

Eight grown men charged at them. Xue Fanzhi was only thirteen; her earlier success was thanks to their surprise. Now, small and weak, she was quickly seized around the neck and lifted by Zhang San.

Zhang San laughed heartily, “This one, with a face like a bun, is mine.”

As she struggled, Xue Fanzhi saw Wen Xian holding a stick right in front of her and shouted, “Do something!”

Wen Xian’s gaze sharpened, then she turned and ran.

Xue Fanzhi: “…”

As expected, that ingrate was beyond saving.

Watching as Zhang San was about to drag her into the woods, Xue Fanzhi’s heart sank. What if Xiao Yi wasn’t nearby? She had already survived one lifetime—if she died, so be it—but she’d implicated Hong Lian and Hong Xiao.

Suddenly, a voice as cold as ice rang out from ahead: “Put her down!”

Xue Fanzhi’s heart leapt with joy. She looked up, and her vision cleared—a young man, no more than seventeen or eighteen, stood behind them. He had sword-like brows and bright eyes, a straight nose and thin lips, strikingly handsome, and his close-fitting blue robes accentuated his tall, dignified stature.

His steps were urgent, but his brows held a calm composure in the face of danger, instilling a sense of mature reassurance in those who saw him.

His clothing was ordinary, matching those behind him, but at his waist hung a piece of priceless mutton-fat white jade, especially eye-catching against the blue fabric—a value unmistakable.

Even in the forest, a faint, pleasant fragrance emanated from him, the scent of “Unparalleled,” the most famous incense from Warm Fragrance, a renowned old shop in Jinling.

This incense was produced only a hundred or two pounds each year, more precious than gold, not merely bought with money but reserved for favored clients—prominent families with close ties to the proprietor.

This was also Xiao Yi’s preferred incense.

At first, Xue Fanzhi didn’t know how rare it was; she simply liked the scent and asked Xiao Yi for some to ward off mosquitoes, only to be scolded by the knowledgeable Xue Jiaoyue for wasting such a treasure.

So the newcomer was none other than Xiao Yi, who disliked drawing attention but whose looks, bearing, and tastes always betrayed him.

Now, he was staring at Zhang San with eyes as icy as his voice.

Zhang San, however, was unafraid, snorting, “I can’t stand you aristocrats…”

He hadn’t finished the words “young master” when a flash of white light sliced through the air. Xiao Yi raised his sword and brought it down; Zhang San’s body was split in two before he could utter a sound.

Naturally, Xue Fanzhi was dropped to the ground.

She cried out, but no one came to help her up. Xiao Yi looked down at her, his gaze not much warmer than it was for Zhang San.

Xue Fanzhi: “…”

In private, Xiao Yi was a rather cold person, but at least in their past life, they’d fallen in love at first sight, and he had always been gentle with her, asking, “Are you all right? If you are, let’s keep moving!”

Suddenly, Xiao Yi sneered, “Weren’t you playing the hero? Why can’t you stand up on your own?”

Did he resent her for taking the lead?

Slowly, tentatively, Xue Fanzhi pushed herself up from the ground. As she rose, their eyes met, and she realized that even though she had grown accustomed to him, even though he was familiar beyond measure, Xiao Yi at sixteen or seventeen was still breathtakingly handsome.

But hadn’t she just desperately tried to avoid him?

Only now did Xue Fanzhi realize that, as she rushed to save Wen Xian, she had already sensed Xiao Yi would appear, and she hadn’t run away. Wasn’t it because she couldn’t let go of seeing him?

No, no, no—Xiao Yi had ordered her death. In this life, she would never cross paths with him again.

She hadn’t run because she simply couldn’t turn a blind eye.

Understanding this, Xue Fanzhi resolutely turned away.

Xiao Yi: “…”

He reached out and grabbed her by the collar, forcing her to turn back, her face full of anger. “What are you doing?”

Xiao Yi narrowed his eyes, “You’re going the wrong way.”

Xue Fanzhi: “…”

Ahead was a cliff; she couldn’t exactly say she lived on the edge.

She followed behind Xiao Yi as they moved forward, and soon, the bedraggled Wen Xian came to meet them.

Seeing the two together, Wen Xian’s eyes flashed with a near-mad jealousy that Xue Fanzhi caught immediately. She thought, this was their first meeting—what was wrong with this woman?

Wen Xian seemed especially displeased by Xue Fanzhi and Xiao Yi together. Though she tried to act casual, it was obvious as she forcefully separated them, then stepped before Xiao Yi and smiled, “My lord, thank you for saving me. I am Wen Xian, the legitimate daughter of the Wen family of Huaian. If my father and brother learn that you’ve rescued me, they will surely be grateful!”

General Wen was a rising star in the court, renowned for snatching Emperor Hongde from the barbarians during the capital relocation campaign. Since then, he commanded seventy thousand troops along the Yangtze and was so distinguished that only families of the highest rank could stand as his equals.

Xue Fanzhi sensed Wen Xian was trying to tempt Xiao Yi with something.

Xiao Yi replied gently, “It’s nothing worth mentioning.”

Then he looked at Xue Fanzhi and said, “Let’s keep moving.”

With that, he strode ahead.

Yet Xue Fanzhi felt that, when Xiao Yi looked at her, there was a kind of caring disappointment in his gaze.

She must be mistaken, she told herself. After all, this was their first meeting today—Xiao Yi was not one to act without profit!