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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 cannot go back."
The smile on his face instantly froze, replaced by a sinister expression.
"You won't come back?" His voice dropped to a low growl, carrying an undeniable command. "You know the consequences of defying me."
I looked at him, then glanced towards the inner room where Xiao Yuan lay unconscious, and at Xiao Yan, who was gasping for breath under a tattered blanket.
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 the inner room pierced through.
Xiao Yan was burning with fever, his forehead scorching hot.
My heart sank. Ignoring Liu Chu, I rushed inside and picked up Xiao Yan.
The child was burning up, his body alarmingly hot. If I didn’t find someone to save him soon, he would be lost!
Liu Chu stood at the doorway, a flicker of unwillingness and cruelty flashing in his eyes.
"Youwei Sister, you will regret this," his voice was carried away by the howling wind and snow.
I paid him no mind, clutching Xiao Yan tightly as I dashed into the raging storm outside.
The snowflakes sliced against my face like knives, and the cold wind pierced through me like ice picks.
I stumbled through the snow, my feet sinking unevenly into the cold white blanket.
As I slipped, I fell into the snow alongside Xiao Yan, the icy flakes pouring down my neck, making my teeth chatter from the chill.
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 designed armrests revealed that I was in an extremely luxurious carriage.
Xiao Yan was curled up in my arms, his face still pale, but his breathing had stabilized significantly.
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 who claimed to be a maid from the Liu Manor, saying 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 fallen for her words.
My hand unconsciously groped around until it brushed against a protrusion beneath the armrest.
Curiously pressing down on it, I heard a soft click, and a hidden compartment appeared beside the armrest.
It was empty, but at the very back, my fingertips touched some rough grains.
Bringing them closer to my nose, a familiar briny scent wafted up.
Salt.
Not ordinary table salt, but coarse sea salt, unrefined and chunky.
Why is there salt hidden here?
A warning bell rang in my heart as 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," he said, his voice soft as a feather, sending shivers down my spine.
"You shouldn't have defied me." He sat across from me, his gaze coldly fixed on Xiao Yan in my arms.
"I was very angry when you rushed out with 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 yet strong.
"Do you remember? When we were young, I was very ill, 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 didn't care for me anymore; only you did."
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