On the sixth day in Han Chuan, a light snow fell over the city.
The snow fell gently, like a thin layer of gray dust brushed down from the edge of the sky.
Snow that had accumulated along both sides of the streets had yet to melt, and slender icicles hung beneath the eaves. But compared with the day Xiao Yuan first entered Han Chuan, the entire city was no longer so deathly silent.
The notice board in front of the government office had been refurbished.
The old wooden boards, which had been peeling and damaged, had been replaced. Several soldiers were putting up new notices. They listed the latest inventory results of Han Chuan’s granaries, the distribution dates for each ward, the list of grain returned by Wanfu Temple, and a notice stating that Du Wenzhou, after recovering from his illness, had been temporarily detained pending trial for negligence in grain affairs and dereliction of military duty.
The notice did not mention the Crown Prince.
It did not mention the Eastern Palace’s secret letter.
Nor did it mention the letter tube hidden beneath the incense table in the ancestral shrine.
The people of Han Chuan only needed to know that they had nearly starved to death not because of fate, nor because the Buddha had failed them, but because someone had hidden grain, someone had hoarded grain, and someone had deliberately closed their eyes. And after Prince Su entered the city, those sacks of grain were being recovered one by one, while those who had closed their eyes were being dragged out one by one.
As for the deeper blade, it would have to wait until the future to pierce the place it truly belonged.
Inside the main hall of the government office, Qin Feng handed the latest grain ledger to Xiao Yuan.
“Your Highness, all the grain discovered at Wanfu Temple and the grain shops in the Eastern Ward has been fully inventoried. Thirty percent has been returned to the people according to the registers, while the remainder has been placed into the public granary. Seven households in the south of the city, including the Lin family, voluntarily reported their grain. According to the notice, they were allowed to retain twenty percent, with the remainder incorporated into the distribution system. Adding the mixed grains from the military’s horse feed that can temporarily substitute for human consumption, as well as the medicinal meals and marching pills from Doctor Su’s batch, Han Chuan can currently last twelve days.”
Twelve days.
When that number fell into the hall, everyone fell silent for a moment.
From five days before death to twelve days of survival—it had taken only a few short days.
In those few days, they had practically dug Han Chuan out of the snow with their bare hands.
Xiao Yuan lowered his eyes to the grain ledger, showing little joy.
“Twelve days is not safety. It is only a chance to catch our breath.”
Qin Feng immediately said, “This subordinate understands. The city’s food distribution will not be relaxed. The wealthy households and merchants will continue to be inspected every day. In addition, following Chief Administrator Xia’s plan, the public grain has already been divided into three temporary storage locations instead of being concentrated in the western granary.”
Xia Lanshi sat to one side, holding a hand warmer. His complexion was better than it had been a few days ago.
Chi Banyue stood behind him, her gaze occasionally falling on the packet of nutritional solution beside the table, as though reminding him not to even think about pretending he could not see it.
Only after hearing Qin Feng mention the division of the granaries did Xia Lanshi speak.
“Dividing the granaries cannot be done merely on the surface. The city granaries, military settlement grain pits, grain returned by temples and monasteries, and grain reported by merchants must all be recorded in separate ledgers and cross-checked. Every movement of grain in or out must bear the signatures of at least two people. If one person falls ill or is transferred elsewhere, the other can still continue the work. Du Wenzhou was able to lie in bed for several days because too many matters in Han Chuan depended on a single person. That cannot happen again.”
Qin Feng listened carefully.
Over these past few days, his respect for Xia Lanshi had become something closer to awe.
This Chief Administrator appeared frail and spoke neither hurriedly nor loudly, yet every sentence struck directly at the heart of the matter. Many of Han Chuan’s past problems had not been unnoticed. It was simply that everyone thought they could put them off for a while, endure for a while, and deal with them after surviving the winter.
But it was precisely those delays and compromises that had nearly pushed Han Chuan into a snow pit.
“This subordinate will carry it out,” Qin Feng said.
Chi Banyue smiled from the side.
“General Qin is getting better and better at answering these days.”
Qin Feng gave a bitter smile.
“If I still hadn’t learned after these past few days, this subordinate probably wouldn’t deserve to stand here.”
He meant it sincerely.
Xiao Yuan glanced at him.
“You are not Du Wenzhou. Don’t be afraid to act, and don’t be afraid of making mistakes. If Han Chuan still has filth hidden away, I want you to dig it out, not cover it up for them.”
Qin Feng’s heart shook.
He dropped to one knee and clasped his fists.
“This subordinate accepts the order.”
◆◇◆◇◆
After being imprisoned in the government jail, Du Wenzhou requested to see Xiao Yuan for the first time.
When the jailer came to report it, Xiao Yuan was checking a copy of the Eastern Palace’s secret letter with Xia Lanshi.
After hearing the report, he only asked indifferently, “What does he want to say?”
The jailer lowered his head.
“General Du says he knows something else related to Qingstone Village losing contact.”
The moment the words “Qingstone Village” were spoken, the atmosphere in the hall suddenly became heavy.
Although Han Chuan had stabilized for the moment, there was still no news from Qingstone Village. It had originally been an important transfer point along Han Chuan’s military route to the north. If it had truly been cut off by an avalanche, that would still be manageable.
What they feared most was that it had already become another piece on the chessboard.
Xiao Yuan stood.
“Lead the way.”
The government jail was cold and damp, with a thin layer of ice covering the walls. Du Wenzhou was locked alone in the innermost cell. He had already changed out of the inner garments he had worn while pretending to be ill and now wore only a gray prison uniform.
He looked much older than he had yesterday. His formerly respectable face was filled with defeat.
When he saw Xiao Yuan enter, he immediately knelt.
“Your Highness.”
Xiao Yuan did not tell him to rise. He merely stopped outside the cell.
“Speak.”
Du Wenzhou’s throat moved. It seemed extremely difficult for him to speak.
“The loss of contact with Qingstone Village was probably not simply a snow disaster. Half a month ago, in the secret letter the Crown Prince sent me, aside from the matters I mentioned earlier, it also said that if Prince Su managed to stabilize Han Chuan, I was to have the grain route from Qingstone Village to the Northern Watchpost cut off. At first, I thought it was merely a threat. Later, when news came that Qingstone Village had lost contact, I realized…”
He could not continue.
Chi Banyue stood behind Xiao Yuan, her eyes cold as a blade.
“If you knew, why didn’t you say so earlier?”
Du Wenzhou prostrated himself on the ground, his voice trembling.
“I was afraid the Crown Prince wouldn’t spare me if I spoke. And I was also afraid that if I waited too long, Your Highness wouldn’t spare me either.”
Chi Banyue gave a laugh.
“So you intended to wait until everyone in Qingstone Village was dead before deciding which side would be easier to explain yourself to?”
Du Wenzhou’s face turned deathly pale. He could not utter a single word in defense.
Xia Lanshi stood beside them, the collar of his cloak covering half of his pale face, leaving only a pair of faintly flushed eyes visible.
After looking at Du Wenzhou for a moment, he suddenly asked, “Who is moving against Qingstone Village?”
Du Wenzhou trembled.
“Not anyone from Han Chuan. The letter only said there would be bandits near the Northern Watchpost cooperating with a group of people disguised as refugees. I don’t know who exactly they are.”
Bandits.
Refugees.
Qingstone Village.
Han Chuan’s grain route.
Those words strung together were already enough to make the situation clear.
The Crown Prince had not merely intended to use Han Chuan’s food shortage to force Xiao Yuan to reveal the source of his supplies.
If Han Chuan stabilized, he had prepared another move.
Make Qingstone Village descend into chaos.
Cut off the grain route completely.
Force Xiao Yuan to leave Han Chuan to rescue another location—or force him to choose between Han Chuan and Qingstone Village.
Xia Lanshi gave a soft cough.
Chi Banyue immediately looked at him.
He waved his hand, indicating that he was fine, then said to Xiao Yuan, “Your Highness, we cannot stay in Han Chuan for long.”
Xiao Yuan’s gaze was cold and heavy.
“Mm.”
Han Chuan had been pulled back from the deadlock, but the true killing move in the northern border was still waiting deeper ahead.
Du Wenzhou suddenly said hoarsely, “Your Highness, this subordinate is guilty and does not dare ask for mercy. But Qin Feng… he knew nothing. Neither did the Han Chuan soldiers. I beg Your Highness not to implicate them because of me.”
Xiao Yuan looked at him.
“If I intended to implicate them, I would not have given Qin Feng command of the military affairs yesterday.”
Du Wenzhou’s eyes reddened. He slammed his forehead heavily against the ground.
He knew his crimes were grave and did not dare say anything more.
Xiao Yuan did not look at him again.
When he left the government jail, the wind blew in beneath the corridor, making his fingertips cold.
Chi Banyue said quietly, “He knows how to regret it now.”
“People always remember a little conscience when they have nowhere left to retreat,” Xia Lanshi said.
“Is it useful?”
Xia Lanshi looked toward the gloomy sky in the distance.
“Perhaps not for him. But it is useful for Han Chuan.”
The information Du Wenzhou had revealed about Qingstone Village had at least allowed them to see the next blade before it struck.
That was enough.
◆◇◆◇◆
That afternoon, Han Chuan officially closed one of its porridge stations for the first time.
Not because porridge was no longer being distributed, but because the people in that ward had recovered enough to collect grain and cook for themselves.
The government office delivered public-granary rations to each ward, where the ward head, soldiers, and two civilian representatives jointly recorded and distributed them. This prevented everyone from crowding around the porridge station and also prevented people from repeatedly lining up to claim extra rations.
This was written in Su Muchen’s plan for “transitioning from emergency relief to stable distribution.”
The first time Xia Lanshi saw it, he was silent for a long while.
It was not that he had been unable to think of these things. It was simply that Su Muchen had broken every step down far too precisely.
From porridge stations that saved lives, to wooden tokens for food collection, to ward-based distribution, and finally back to individual households cooking for themselves—the most important thing in the entire arrangement was not the grain.
It was allowing the people to gradually return from “waiting to be rescued” to “living their own lives.”
Han Chuan could not rely on Prince Su to distribute porridge forever.
Nor could people remain forever in a state of being rescued.
When the first batch of ward-based rations had been distributed, an elderly woman tremblingly held her grain sack and suddenly asked the soldier responsible for registration, “Can we still collect it tomorrow?”
The soldier glanced at the wooden board and answered according to what was written there.
“According to household size, it is distributed once every three days. If there is a sick person or young child in the household, report it at the ward entrance.”
The old woman froze.
She seemed unable to believe there would be a next time.
The soldier thought for a moment, then added, “His Highness Prince Su said Han Chuan isn’t at the point of dying yet.”
The old woman’s eyes immediately reddened.
Clutching the grain sack, she slowly knelt.
Many people on the street saw this and knelt as well.
But this time, the soldiers did not let the people remain kneeling for long. Following the new rules, they helped them back to their feet and urged them to hurry home, light their fires, and cook.
Chi Banyue stood not far away, watching somewhat absentmindedly.
“Han Chuan feels like it has come back to life.”
Xia Lanshi sat inside the carriage, a snow fox blanket covering his knees. Beside him was an empty nutritional-solution bag.
He said softly, “It has only just woken up.”
“As long as it’s awake,” Chi Banyue said. “That’s better than lying there waiting to die.”
Xia Lanshi smiled.
“Yes.”
He looked at the wisps of cooking smoke rising through the city.
The smoke was very faint.
Yet it was the most human sight Han Chuan had seen in these past few days.
◆◇◆◇◆
Inside Guichen Studio, Su Muchen was in an online meeting with a lawyer.
The lawyer’s surname was Liang. She was a lawyer Xiang had found for him, in her forties, and spoke briskly without much unnecessary courtesy.
After reviewing the debt documents Su Muchen had organized, the recordings of the Sheng family’s legal adviser visiting him, and the recent documents questioning his sources of funds, she was silent for a moment before asking:
“Mr. Su, the Sheng family’s target isn’t the debt, is it?”
Su Muchen sat behind the counter, his fingers lightly tapping against the side of his cup.
“Probably not.”
“They want Guichen Studio?”
“Yes.”
Lawyer Liang nodded, apparently unsurprised.
“Then don’t handle this merely as a debt dispute. You need to do three things. First, preserve complete documentation for every source of funds, especially transactions listed under names such as consignment sales of old objects, antique purchases, and private collection transfers. Every one of them must correspond to the physical item and the contract. Second, do not respond privately to any pressure from the Sheng family or its cooperating creditors. Handle everything in writing. Third, the relationship between Guichen Studio’s property rights and your father’s estate needs to be reviewed again. If this shop does not entirely belong to assets your father was entitled to dispose of, they cannot treat it as an ordinary debt collateral and proceed against it.”
Su Muchen immediately raised his eyes.
“Doesn’t entirely belong to my father?”
Lawyer Liang said, “You mentioned before that this is an ancestral shop and that the family rules prohibit its sale. Such a statement may not be directly enforceable under the law, but if it involves a family trust, historical property rights, joint inheritance, or a special agreement, there may be room to work with. I need to see the earliest land deed, transfer documents, your grandfather’s will, or any written records he left behind.”
Su Muchen fell silent.
It was only after Su Jiancheng’s death that he learned Guichen Studio had been mortgaged by him, and the title deed was no longer in his hands.
Most of the things his grandfather had left behind were still piled in the old boxes on the second floor.
He had never seriously gone through them before.
At the time, he had simply thought they were old things from the past, dust, a family history he did not want to touch.
But now, it seemed that what his grandfather had left behind might not merely be old possessions.
There might very well be the true lifeline that could save Guichen Studio.
After the meeting ended, Su Muchen sat for a long time.
He pondered how he could find those documents.
Xiao walked out from behind him, holding an old wooden box.
“Looking for this?”
Su Muchen looked at the wooden box, and his brows twitched.
“You knew all along?”
Xiao smiled.
“I just happened to remember that the old master used to keep some important documents here.”
“You always happen to remember things at very subtle moments.”
“Thank you for the compliment.”
“I wasn’t complimenting you.”
Su Muchen took the wooden box with a cold expression and, while doing so, gave him an eye roll.
The box was not large, and there was an old lock on it.
Xiao took out a key and handed it to him.
Su Muchen stared at the key, endured it again and again, but ultimately could not hold back.
“You even have the key?”
Xiao said innocently, “I’m a shop clerk.”
Su Muchen: “…”
Su Muchen was utterly speechless. What shop clerk in the world would have the key to an ancestral secret box?!
When the lock was opened, the lid of the box made a soft sound. There was no gold or silver inside, nor any mysterious magical artifact. There were only several yellowed ledgers, a few old deed papers, and a letter that had never been sent.
On the envelope was his grandfather’s familiar handwriting.
—To be opened by Muchen.
Su Muchen’s fingertips stopped.
He stared at those four characters for a long time, and his chest suddenly tightened with an indescribable feeling.
When his grandfather died, he was still young. Many of his memories had already become blurred. He only remembered that the old man’s palms were very warm, that he spoke slowly, and that he often held his hand and stood before that door that could never be opened, speaking softly of things he could not understand at the time.
On the day the door opens, do not be greedy or afraid.
If someone comes from within the door…
He had never been able to remember what came afterward.
Now, this letter lay quietly at the bottom of the box, as though after so many years, it had finally waited for him to reach out.
Su Muchen picked up the letter but did not open it immediately.
Xiao stood beside him, and the smile on his face had also faded.
“Not going to read it?”
Su Muchen said quietly, “I’ll wait until Xiao Yuan comes tonight.”
Xiao was somewhat surprised.
Su Muchen placed the letter on the table, his finger still resting against the edge of the envelope.
“Since this letter is related to Guichen Studio, it is most likely related to the door as well. Since the door connects both sides, I shouldn’t be the only one who knows about it.”
Xiao looked at him.
After a moment, he said softly, “Muchen, you’ve really changed.”
Su Muchen did not look up.
“A person can’t keep being pushed along forever.”
After saying that, he sorted out the title deed and old ledgers from the wooden box, scanning and backing up each one.
The Sheng family was forcing him with modern rules.
Then he would dig out every useful thing he could find from Guichen Studio’s oldest past, one by one.
He would not hand over the shop.
He would not hand over the door.
And he would not let Han Chuan and Xiao Yuan be left without help on the other side.
◆◇◆◇◆
When Xiao Yuan came that night, he brought the latest situation from Han Chuan.
“The city’s grain can last twelve days. The porridge sheds have begun gradually transitioning to neighborhood-based distribution. Du Wenzhou is temporarily detained, and Qin Feng has taken over military affairs. Qingshi Village may have undergone a change. I need to head north as soon as possible.”
When Su Muchen heard Qingshi Village, the pen in his hand paused.
“You’re leaving Han Chuan?”
“Yes.” Xiao Yuan said, “Han Chuan can’t be stayed in for long. The Crown Prince’s situation here has already been broken, but Qingshi Village has lost contact. It may be the next place.”
Su Muchen frowned.
He had actually known long ago that Xiao Yuan could not remain in Han Chuan forever.
The Northern Frontier was not just one city.
Stabilizing Han Chuan did not mean the entire Northern Frontier had been stabilized.
Knowing that was one thing. Actually hearing Xiao Yuan say he was leaving was another.
At least Han Chuan had a government office, storehouses, and a relatively stable gateway. If they went to Qingshi Village or farther north, would the gateway still be able to open steadily? Could supplies still be sent over? Would Xiao Yuan encounter another ambush?
These questions surfaced one after another.
Su Muchen disliked this feeling of being unable to control things.
He lowered his head and opened a new form, keeping his tone as calm as possible.
“Then a system has to be left in place here in Han Chuan. Everything can’t become chaotic again the moment you leave. The grain warehouse records, distribution rules, patient registry, crop-testing arrangements, and Qin Feng’s military handover all need to be made into standardized documents.”
Xiao Yuan looked at him.
“I’ve already arranged it.”
Su Muchen nodded, but could not help adding, “Xia Lanshi can’t travel too hurriedly with you over a long distance. His health has only just stabilized somewhat. If you’re leaving, make sure the carriage is properly heated, and don’t let the nutritional solution run out.”
Xiao Yuan hummed.
“I know.”
“You too.” Su Muchen looked up at him. “You agree to everything every time, but once you get busy, you may not remember.”
A very faint smile appeared in Xiao Yuan’s eyes.
“I’ll remember this time.”
Su Muchen clearly did not believe him.
He took a new supply pack from beneath the counter.
“This is for the journey. A trauma kit, fever medicine, oral rehydration salts, compressed dry rations, heat patches, and a simplified guide to epidemic prevention and frostbite treatment. Once you leave Han Chuan, if the gateway becomes unstable, at least you’ll be able to hold out for a while.”
Xiao Yuan accepted the package, his fingers tightening slightly.
“You prepared this quickly.”
“Not quickly.” Su Muchen said, “I knew from the beginning that you wouldn’t stop at Han Chuan.”
The words left a moment of silence between them.
Xiao sat in the distance without making a sound.
Xiao Yuan looked at Su Muchen.
“Don’t you want me to go?”
Su Muchen did not answer immediately.
Of course he could say he did not want him to go, but he could not bring himself to say it.
Xiao Yuan was the Prince Su of Dasheng, and currently the only person in the Northern Frontier who could truly suppress the situation. He could not stay in the already stabilized Han Chuan just because Su Muchen said he did not want him to, while watching Qingshi Village and the places farther north continue to perish.
So in the end, Su Muchen merely lowered his head and organized the forms.
“I don’t want you to go to your death.”
Xiao Yuan’s gaze deepened.
“I’m not going to die.”
“I know.” Su Muchen’s voice lowered slightly. “But all I can do from here is increase the chances that you all come back alive.”
Xiao Yuan’s heart felt as though something had given it a gentle tug.
He suddenly wanted to reach out and ruffle Su Muchen’s lowered hair.
But he did not. He held himself back.
He merely said quietly, “This is already a lot.”
Su Muchen raised his eyes.
Xiao Yuan looked at him, his tone steady. “Without you, Han Chuan wouldn’t have survived until today. I might not have been able to make it this far either.”
Those words were too direct.
For a moment, Su Muchen did not know how to respond, so he could only push the documents on the table toward him.
“Stop being sentimental. Look at this.”
It was an old letter.
Xiao Yuan’s gaze fell upon the envelope.
“What is this?”
“My grandfather left it behind. He wrote it to me. It should be related to Guichen Studio, and possibly to the door.”
Xiao Yuan’s expression immediately turned solemn.
Xiao also put down the coffee in his hand.
The shop fell quiet beneath the gentle light, which illuminated the yellowed letter.
Su Muchen pushed the letter to the center of the table and took a deep breath.
“I want to read it now.”
Xiao Yuan looked at him.
Su Muchen’s fingertips pressed against the edge of the envelope, exerting slight force, but they did not tremble. It was not that he was unafraid. He had simply decided not to run away anymore.
Xiao Yuan said quietly, “I’m here.”
Those simple two words were like a lamp shining into Su Muchen’s heart.
He lowered his eyes and opened the letter that had been delayed for so many years.
When the paper unfolded, his grandfather’s vigorous yet gentle handwriting came into view.
—Muchen, if you are reading this letter, it means the door has already opened.
Su Muchen’s breathing hitched slightly.
Xiao Yuan’s gaze also darkened.
Xiao stood in the shadows, his expression unusually devoid of any smile.
There were only a few short lines in the letter.
—The Su family guards the door, not to seek immortality, nor to seek wealth, but only to keep cause and effect from falling into disorder.
—On the day the door opens, the blood of an emperor will surely come from within. This person may bring calamity, or may bring a chance for life. He must never be judged solely by good or evil.
—Muchen, do not covet the wealth within the door. Do not fear the people within the door.
—If you are willing to save him, then save him. If you are unwilling, you may retreat.
—But if you choose that person, remember: the door connects two realms, and it also connects two lives. It is not that their lives and deaths are bound together, but that their causes and effects are carried forward together.
—The Su family cannot choose for you, and the door cannot choose for you. What truly opens the door has never been blood, but the heart.
The final line was written somewhat hastily, as though the person writing the letter had already been very tired when he put pen to paper.
—If someone comes from within the door, ask him first whether he is hurting.
Su Muchen stared at that final sentence and suddenly froze.
A very, very long time ago, he seemed to have heard those words.
At that time, his grandfather had held his hand and stood before that door that could never be opened, speaking softly to him:
“If someone comes from within the door, don’t be afraid of him, and don’t covet the things he brings. Ask him first whether he is hurting.”
So it was this sentence.
So he had not forgotten it.
That memory had simply been buried too deeply beneath time and dust, until this moment, when it finally resurfaced.
Su Muchen held the letter, his throat suddenly tightening.
Xiao Yuan said nothing.
Because he, too, remembered the night they first met.
He had been covered in blood, his sword pressed against Su Muchen’s throat, believing that the person before him was either a pursuer or some demonic entity.
Yet the first thing Su Muchen had asked him was concern expressed in the most clumsy way:
—If you don’t stop the bleeding, you’ll die in ten minutes.
At this moment, inside and outside the door, past and present, suddenly seemed to be connected by some invisible thread.
Xiao let out a soft sigh.
“The old master really did leave a letter.”
Su Muchen looked up at him.
“You knew?”
Xiao did not deny it.
“I knew there was a letter. I didn’t know its contents.”
Su Muchen looked at him.
“What exactly does it mean that the Su family guards the door?”
Xiao was silent for a moment.
“The literal meaning.”
Su Muchen frowned.
“Are you starting again?”
Xiao gave a bitter smile.
“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s that if some things are said too early, the door will hear.”
The shop suddenly fell silent.
Su Muchen instinctively looked toward the door.
It was closed at that moment, appearing to be nothing more than an ordinary old door.
But everyone knew that it had never been ordinary.
Xiao Yuan asked quietly, “The door will hear?”
Xiao looked at him, then at Su Muchen.
“You think the door is merely a passage?”
No one answered.
Xiao smiled, but the smile was very faint.
“The door isn’t a dead object. It can choose, it can see, and it can hear.”
Su Muchen’s fingers tightened. Internally, he cursed Xiao dozens of times. How could he only mention something this important now?
If the door was a living thing, then everything they had discussed in front of it had been seen and heard by it.
“…Then what did it choose me for?”
Xiao did not answer immediately.
After a long while, he finally said softly, “Perhaps it wasn’t the door that chose you.”
Xiao looked at the letter.
“You chose a long time ago.”
Su Muchen lowered his head and looked at the final sentence on the letter.
If someone comes from within the door, ask him first whether he is hurting.
Suddenly, he felt as though something had touched his heart very, very lightly.
As though many years ago, someone had placed a lamp in his hands, yet had never forced him to walk toward any particular place.
He could choose not to save him.
He could retreat.
He could also close the door.
But that night, when Xiao Yuan had entered Guichen Studio covered in blood, Su Muchen had still chosen to save him.
Not because of the Su family.
Not because of the door.
Simply because that person could hurt, and could die.
Xiao Yuan looked at him and said quietly, “Muchen.”
Su Muchen raised his eyes.
In that instant, neither of them spoke.
Some things were still separated by the door, by the wind and snow, by two different worlds.
Yet some things, as if finally emerging from the letter, from their memories, from those words Does it hurt?, slowly settled between them.
Su Muchen folded the letter again and placed it back on the table.
“Once Han Chuan is settled, you have to go to Qingshi Village.”
Xiao Yuan nodded.
“Yes.”
“Then go.” Su Muchen looked at him. “I won’t stop you.”
Xiao Yuan gazed at him.
Su Muchen said quietly, “But remember, I didn’t save you because of some duty of the Su family to guard the door.”
He paused, as though weighing those words, or as though he finally no longer wanted to retreat so far.
“I chose it myself.”
Xiao Yuan’s heart jolted violently.
Those words were very light, yet they shook him more than any vow could have.
Because Su Muchen had not said that he loved him, had not said he would wait for him, and had not said that he would always be there.
But he had said—
I chose it myself.
Xiao Yuan looked at him. After a long while, he said quietly, “Then I will not betray your choice.”
White light gently flickered through the crack of the door.
The wind and snow of Qingshi Village were waiting ahead.
And inside Guichen Studio, the letter that had been delayed for many years had finally been opened.
It did not provide an answer.
But for the first time, it made Su Muchen clearly understand that he had not been pushed by the door into reaching this day.
From the moment he reached out and saved Xiao Yuan, this path had been one he chose for himself.