Although his mind was muddled from the fever, he still remembered—before he fell into a deep sleep last night, he had already broken out in a cold sweat. His body had felt hot and sticky, unbearably uncomfortable. Yet because of the fever and delirium, his limbs were heavy, his mind clouded, and he hadn’t been able to get up to change his clothes.

But now, he was clearly wearing a set of clean, dry garments!

The buttons were neatly fastened, smooth and tidy, while his original robe had been thrown aside at the foot of the bed.

…And not only that.

Lu Huan’s uncertain gaze fell to the pillow beside him—two pieces of cold, damp cloth had been folded into strips. They were still wet, as though they’d been made from melted snow.

Lu Huan instinctively reached up and touched his forehead—it was no longer hot!

If at this moment he still hadn’t realized what had happened, when his gaze shifted to the bowl of medicine by the bed, his pupils suddenly contracted. It was as if he had seen something utterly astonishing—he froze, unable to react for a long while.

An empty bowl.

The bitter scent of medicine still lingered faintly in the air. Even between his lips and teeth, there was a trace of its taste.

This was…?

He had finished the remaining medicine?

Someone had entered during the night—and force-fed him medicine while he was unconscious?!

Lu Huan’s heart instantly tightened with alarm. He lifted the quilt and leapt out of bed on instinct. Because he hadn’t fully recovered his strength, he staggered a little, barely steadying himself by gripping the bedpost. Holding his breath, he quickly examined himself—but discovered—

No sign of poison at all?! Nor any hint of discomfort.

…On the contrary, compared to last night, the fever was completely gone. His body felt much lighter.

Lu Huan turned back, bent down, and examined the few packets of medicine still left unopened. It seemed they had been intentionally left behind for him—to continue taking until his cold was fully cured.

He opened the packets one by one, sniffed them, pinched a few herbs between his fingers to inspect. All of them were nourishing, restorative, or for treating cold-related illnesses—not a single harmful ingredient.

“……”

How could this be…?

Someone had entered, but not to harm him. They had come only to deliver medicine… and even taken care of him through the night?

Stunned to the core, Lu Huan gripped the medicine packets tightly in his hand, standing motionless in the room, his mind blank.

Lowering his eyes to the bits of spilled herbs scattered on the floor beside the bed, his heart gave a faint tremor. He didn’t even know what kind of emotion he should be feeling.

He didn’t know how long he stood there.

The first ray of morning sunlight streamed through the small window of the firewood shed, landing across his dark lashes and slightly pale face. For that brief instant, the expression of cold indifference he always wore softened—tinged with an uncharacteristic confusion.

───♡───

Lu Huan still had many matters to attend to today.

Three or four taels of silver weren’t much. It could buy a few things, but it wasn’t enough to sustain him for long.

Yesterday, he had purchased some leek roots and early spring zucchini from the market—winter crops that, with careful tending, would yield harvests soon enough. In addition, the eggs laid by his hens could also fetch a good price.

Since this plot of land now belonged to him, he had to make proper use of it. Before the Princess Consort of Prince Ning took further action, he needed to secure his livelihood and earn some extra silver in the meantime.

Now that street performances and sword dances were restricted in the capital, Lu Huan couldn’t make money through those means. Moreover, as a concubine’s son of Prince Ning’s Manor, he wasn’t often permitted to enter or leave freely. Every time he did, they guarded him as though he were a thief.

So, after thinking it over, he could only grow more produce—and secretly bribe the guard at the side gate to help sell them in exchange for silver.

With silver, Lu Huan could change his current plight—

Lu Yuan and Lu Wenxiu were legitimate sons. They could study at the Imperial Academy alongside the princes, train at the royal riding grounds. Born with golden spoons in their mouths, they didn’t cherish their fortune at all—especially Lu Wenxiu, who spent his days idling, skipping lessons, and sneaking about like a petty thief.

The concubine-born Lu Huan had, since childhood, been confined to a remote corner of the firewood courtyard.

He rarely had the chance to leave Prince Ning’s Manor, let alone have a teacher of his own.

When the imperial guards’ instructor had once been invited to the manor, Lu Huan had secretly observed from outside the courtyard wall, managing to pick up a little riding, archery, and the Four Books and Five Classics. But he knew well—this was far from enough.

His ambition and his vengeance went far beyond this!

He understood clearly that only by reading and learning the ways of the world could he attain the means to influence it.

He needed silver—silver to buy books, silver to buy a strong bow and sharp arrows.

If he had even more money, he could slip away in secret, find a private school, and finally be free from Prince Ning’s Manor.

But now——

The sudden appearance of that person had clearly disrupted his plans a little.

Lu Huan stood beneath the eaves, looking at the roosters and hens fluttering all over the yard.

Then his gaze moved to the grape trellis covered in last night’s snow, and to the sacks of crop seeds stacked by the wall.

He went over and scattered feed inside the fence.

At once, twenty-six chickens gathered excitedly around, pecking busily at the ground.

When Lu Huan went to check the nesting boxes, he found—perhaps because there were too many hens—some had already started laying eggs during the night. Reaching inside, he felt around and pulled out two warm, freshly laid eggs.

For Lu Huan, who had been mistreated by the Princess Consort of Prince Ning since he was young and had rarely eaten a hot meal, an egg was a delicacy only received during New Year’s or festivals—perhaps as a small kindness from Fourth Concubine.

And yet now, thanks to that person’s help, he was actually holding two smooth, round, warm eggs in his hand.

A feeling he could not quite describe welled up inside Lu Huan, and his expression grew complicated.

Could it be that person truly bore no ill intent?

If they had truly meant him harm, they could have done so easily.

The person moved freely in and out of the firewood courtyard. Last night, while he was feverish and unconscious, that person could have simply plunged a dagger into him and he would have had no strength to resist!

Not only last night—even before that, they could have struck at any time. Yet they had held back again and again, only sending him the things he needed most.

But then—if not out of malice, what was their purpose?

If they were not plotting something, why had they delivered items time after time? Could they truly mean to help him—kindly, selflessly, as if bringing warmth into his bitter winter?

But—how could that be—?!

From the day he was born, Lu Huan had never known such kindness.

In Prince Ning’s Manor, no one ever helped him.

Those who didn’t fawn over Lu Wenxiu or trample on him already counted as the rare few who “did him no harm.” Even Fourth Concubine merely cast him pitiful glances out of cautious self-preservation.

There was no kindness for him within Prince Ning’s walls, nor beyond them!

So why would someone suddenly appear, unseen yet unfailingly, again and again, to rescue him from his hardships?!

……He couldn’t think of anyone who would treat him so well.

Lu Huan stared at the eggs in his hand. In his palm, there still lingered the faint chill of melting snow—the same coldness left behind from the cloth that had cooled his fever. The ripples in his heart grew wider and wider.

If such a person truly existed…

If such a person really existed, his heart—strangely—began to race with nervous anticipation.

——And along with that, a faint dryness caught in his throat, a secret, trembling hope he himself had not noticed.

But the next instant, Lu Huan found his thoughts absurd—laughable, even.

What if not?

What if that person, though not seeking to harm him, harbored no genuine care either—what if they merely saw him, a concubine’s son locked within these walls, as an amusing and pitiful toy to be played with in their hands?

After all, his background was clear for all to see—he was indeed born of Prince Ning and a courtesan from outside.

There could be no secret about his parentage.

Which meant it was impossible that some hidden relative might be helping him in secret.

Then aside from those idle pranks, those condescending acts of charity—

Lu Huan truly couldn’t think of anyone who would, without reason or purpose, treat a mere concubine’s son like him with kindness.

At that thought, it was as though a basin of cold, mocking water had been poured over his head.

Lu Huan pressed his lips together, forcing himself to quash every stray, foolish thought—smothering all the fragile expectations and yearning that had just begun to stir.

His gaze cooled.

No matter what, he would simply remain unmoved and wait for whatever might come.

───♡───

That day, after feeding all the chickens and collecting the eggs, he began planting the winter crops he had bought.

Until now, he hadn’t touched the clothes and other things that person had sent—because he had suspected hidden motives.

But after last night’s illness, though he still didn’t know that person’s intent, he had, at least a little, lowered his guard—temporarily deciding they meant him no harm.

So he began sorting through the produce that had been left by the wall.

The potatoes, carrots, and other vegetables already grown he divided into twenty-three sacks and carried them all to the kitchen.

The remaining seeds he left where they were. Those that could be planted that day he sowed; those that could not, he cleared a small room beside the firewood shed to use as storage, devising a few methods to keep them preserved.

Once everything was done, Lu Huan went to the kitchen.

He knew how to chop firewood and fetch water—naturally, he was skilled at cooking and boiling noodles as well.

Otherwise, in this vast Prince Ning’s Manor, he might not have survived these years at all.

He lit the stove fire, rolled up his sleeves, revealing clean, slender forearms, and chopped the carrots and potatoes finely. Mixing them with flour, he spread the dough into the pan.

White steam rose in curls; in the dim yellow glow of the flames, a flatcake soon took shape.

His appetite stirred, and his eyes shone with a faint brightness.

It was the first time in years he had eaten something warm—rather than cold leftovers.

Lu Huan swallowed down the flatcake in a few bites, enough to fill his stomach, then cut up more carrots and potatoes, stoked the fire higher.

He made another flatcake—larger this time, its aroma richer, more tempting.

But he didn’t eat it.

He placed it carefully on a plate and set it on the stove, letting the stove’s fading warmth keep it hot.

His hands stilled. He glanced uncertainly toward the doorway.

Night had already fallen. Snowflakes drifted from the sky; the world was utterly silent.

That person… would they come tonight?

He had left the freshly made flatcake here—would that person see it? Would they like it?

A faint nervousness stirred in Lu Huan’s chest.

But then—he suddenly thought—if that person had merely been toying with him, showing him charity for amusement…

…then when they saw he had eagerly made a flatcake in anticipation of their visit, would they laugh at him—for being such a pitiful fool, grasping desperately at the smallest shred of kindness?