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墨書 Inktalez
I shook my head desperately, my voice dry. "Liu Chu, I am already a woman of the Xiao Family. I can't go back."
The smile on his face instantly froze, replaced by a sinister expression.
"You won't come back?" His voice dropped, carrying an undeniable command. "You know the consequences of defying me."
I looked at him, then at the unconscious Xiao Yuan in the inner room, and at Xiao Yan, who lay under a tattered blanket, coughing and gasping for breath.
Choices have always been so cruel.
Liu Chu's threat and Madam Liu's malice felt like a massive cage, intent on suffocating me.
Suddenly, a pained cry from Xiao Yan echoed from the inner room.
He was burning up, his forehead scorching hot.
My heart sank. Ignoring Liu Chu, I rushed inside to pick up Xiao Yan.
The child was burning dangerously; if I didn't find someone to save him soon, he would be lost!
Liu Chu stood at the door, a flicker of unwillingness and cruelty in his eyes.
"Sister Youwei, you will regret this," his voice was carried away by the wind and snow.
I paid him no mind, holding Xiao Yan tightly as I dashed into the raging storm outside.
The snowflakes cut against my face like knives, and the cold wind pierced through me like ice.
I stumbled through the snow, my feet sinking unevenly into the white blanket.
As I slipped, I fell into the snow alongside Xiao Yan, the cold powder pouring into my collar and making my teeth chatter.
Xiao Yan's cries grew fainter.
Despair washed over me like a tidal wave.
Just when I thought that both the child and I would be buried in this blizzard, a tall figure emerged from the depths of the storm.
He was draped in a thick cloak, resembling a moving snow mountain.
That familiar scar stood out starkly against the swirling snow.
Xiao Yuan.
How could he be here?
The snow blurred my vision, and my consciousness struggled against the cold.
When I awoke again, warmth enveloped me.
It was not the damp decay of a wood shed, nor the biting chill of the storm.
What I felt was smooth, soft satin, and a faint scent of incense lingered in the air.
I opened my eyes to see a canopy above me, embroidered with golden threads depicting auspicious clouds.
The gilded window frames and the intricately carved armrests revealed that I was in an extraordinarily luxurious carriage.
Xiao Yan curled up in my arms, his face still pale, but his breathing had steadied considerably.
I looked around in confusion, a sense of unease growing within me.
How did I end up here?
Fleeting memories flashed through my mind—Xiao Yuan's blurred figure in the snowstorm, followed by a woman claiming to be a maid from Liu Manor, who said she would take us to a warmer place, arranged by Madam Liu out of nostalgia.
I had been burning with fever at the time, my mind clouded; perhaps I had believed her words.
My hand unconsciously groped around and brushed against a protrusion beneath the armrest.
Curiously, I pressed down on it. With a soft click, a hidden compartment appeared beside the armrest.
It was empty, but at the very back, my fingertips touched some coarse granules.
Bringing them closer to my nose, a familiar briny scent wafted up to me.
Salt.
Not ordinary table salt, but coarse sea salt that had not been finely processed.
Why is there salt hidden here?
A warning bell rang in my heart, and I realized I might have fallen into another trap.
The curtain of the carriage was suddenly lifted, and a chill swept in with Liu Chu's frail figure.
His pale face wore a sickly smile, and he still fiddled with the old handkerchief embroidered with rabbits.
"Youwei Sister, I knew you would come back," his voice was soft as a feather, yet it sent shivers down my spine.
"You shouldn't have defied me." He sat across from me, his gaze dark and fixed on Xiao Yan in my arms.
"I was very angry when you rushed out holding him that day." He coughed, covering his mouth with the handkerchief, and when he moved it away, a shocking splash of crimson stained the fabric.
He coughed up blood.
Yet Liu Chu seemed unfazed. He leaned forward and grabbed my sleeve, his bony fingers cold but strong.
"Do you remember? When we were young, I was very sick, and everyone in the house just let me wait to die." He clutched my sleeve tightly, his knuckles turning white.
"Only you fed me medicine and gave me water every day." His eyes grew obsessive. "Even my mother ignored me; only you cared."
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