For the past few days, the three of them had been trekking through the Sixth Ring’s Frost Snow Wasteland.
The wind blew from the north, carrying fine ice crystals, and the temperature dropped lower with each passing day.
When Xue Yin and the others passed by a small village, they found a demi-human man with ram’s horns collapsed by the roadside outside the settlement.
Jin practically threw himself forward, his knees hitting the frozen snow with a dull thud.
He crouched down and checked the man’s breathing.
“Master, he’s alive,” he said, looking up at Xue Yin, his voice urgent.
“But his body temperature is frighteningly low.”
Xue Yin quickly assessed the situation.
“It must be hypothermia. Jin, quickly carry him into the village.”
Ailia took off her own cloak and draped it over the man.
A soft, holy light glowed in her palm as she placed her hand on him, gradually dispersing the chill from within his body.
Jin hoisted the man onto his back, and the three of them hurried into the village.
The village was small, with only about a dozen households, their roofs weighed down by thick snow.
The villagers, hearing the commotion, came out and guided Xue Yin’s group into a house.
Someone exclaimed, “It’s Fuxis! Wasn’t he supposed to go north to look for food?”
The room soon filled with a circle of people.
Some brought hot water, others carried dry firewood to start a fire.
Fuxis’s family repeatedly thanked Ailia, holding her hands.
“When Marquis Brino was still alive, things were never like this,” an old woman said, wiping her tears.
“No matter how cold it got back then, the Marquis would send people with charcoal and grain. But now? Claudius and his Black Scale Guards under him even withhold the most basic relief rations.”
“Don’t say such things,” someone next to her pulled her sleeve, lowering their voice.
“Be careful it doesn’t reach his ears. Nothing good will come of it.”
“Let it reach him!” The old woman’s voice rose instead.
“My son starved to death last month. What do I have left to fear? How long has it been since the Marquis left? And now we can’t even survive…”
The previously bustling room fell silent instantly.
Some villagers lowered their heads, others turned their faces away, a few quietly wiped the corners of their eyes.
Claudius and the Black Scale Guards, huh? Xue Yin quietly filed this information away in her mind.
The next night, the three of them took shelter in a cave out in the wilderness.
The campfire cast a warm red glow on the rocky walls.
Ailia finished the last sip of her hot soup and stood up.
“I’ll take the first watch outside.”
“Be careful out there at night, Ailia,” Xue Yin said, unable to hide her concern.
“I’ll take the second watch,” Jin quickly added, though his mind was clearly elsewhere.
Ailia turned back, winked at Xue Yin as if hinting at something, then adjusted her cloak.
With a barely perceptible smile at the corner of her mouth, she left the cave.
Xue Yin sighed in Ailia’s direction, and the cave immediately fell quiet.
Jin leaned against the rock wall.
Though his gaze was fixed on the campfire, the corner of his eye kept glancing at the person beside him.
He hesitated for a moment before speaking up.
“Master, you’ve been making excuses for days. Tonight, you have to fulfill your promise.”
Xue Yin played dumb. “What promise?”
“You’ve been finding excuses to delay the reward,” Jin said with a serious face, though a smile hid in the depths of his eyes.
Xue Yin looked up and glared at him, exasperated.
“The key point is, who promised you any reward?”
“Master said, ‘If you win, there’s a reward.’ And I’ve been studying so diligently under you recently. Doesn’t that deserve a proper reward?”
Jin naturally knew Xue Yin’s weak spot and deliberately drew out the last syllable.
“Even if I did promise…”
Xue Yin’s voice trailed off, the tips of her ears turning faintly red.
“But still, something like a lap pillow…”
“But as a master, you can’t go back on your word, right?”
Jin spread his hands, his expression innocent.
Xue Yin gave up the struggle.
In the end, she couldn’t bring herself to refuse.
She was silent for a moment, then shifted her position.
Leaning her back against the cave wall, she straightened her legs slightly before gently patting her lap.
The movement was light, as if afraid someone might hear.
“Only for a little while. And you’re not allowed to say anything unnecessary during it.”
Jin’s eyes lit up, but he didn’t dare show it too obviously.
He just pursed his lips and slowly lay down, gently resting his head on Xue Yin’s lap.
Xue Yin stiffened all over.
She instinctively wanted to shrink back, but her back was already against the rock wall—there was nowhere to retreat.
Too close.
She took a deep breath, trying to slow her racing heart.
She could smell the scent from his hair: warm, clean, mixed with a hint of lingering black flame and the crispness of frost and snow.
She didn’t dare look down at Jin, so she kept her eyes fixed on the campfire, as if the dancing flames could shoulder some of her burden for her.
Jin, true to his word, didn’t say anything more.
He closed his eyes, relaxing completely to savor this moment of peace.
His master’s lap was softer than he’d imagined.
Her silver hair cascaded down, the ends brushing against his face—ticklish, fragrant, and pleasant.
“Don’t try to weasel out next time. I never promised any reward,” Xue Yin muttered in a voice only she could hear.
“If you want something, you can tell me directly. Don’t beat around the bush. It’s not like I’ll agree to everything anyway.”
“Mhm,” Jin responded, finally opening his eyes.
His right hand, however, quietly turned over, palm up, hovering just beside her dangling hand.
Xue Yin didn’t pull her hand away, her eyes holding only indulgence.
Xue Yin’s ears grew even redder under his gaze.
She turned her face away, as if steeling herself with great resolve, and took something out from her pack.
It was a gray scarf.
She had knitted it herself during this time, after asking Ailia for guidance.
It was as soft as a cloud.
She had infused magic into every stitch, making the yarn more resilient and warmer.
She had originally planned to give it to him when it got colder, or find a more casual moment to toss it over and say, “I knitted it incidentally. Throw it away if you don’t want to wear it.”
But now, the two of them were alone in the cave, with the weight of his head on her lap.
Xue Yin suddenly didn’t want to wait any longer.
What moment could be more fitting than this?
Xue Yin didn’t speak.
She simply gently unfolded the scarf and wrapped it around his neck.
Jin instinctively wanted to lean back but forcibly held himself still.
He knew Xue Yin was trying to get closer in her own way.
So he just held his breath, letting her slightly cool fingertips brush against his skin.
But when her finger accidentally caught on an old scar on the side of his neck, a barely audible, soft hum escaped his throat.
Xue Yin froze abruptly, her finger hovering in mid-air, the tips of her ears reddening to near-transparency.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” he immediately shook his head, though his voice was terribly hoarse.
“It’s just a little ticklish.”
“Look at you, covered in scars. And now we’re in the Frost Snow Wasteland; the weather has turned very cold,” she muttered softly.
“The scarf is woven with my magic. It can block wind and cold.”
“It’s simply because I’m afraid you’ll catch a chill. Don’t overthink it.”
Xue Yin’s voice was light, as if trying to convince Jin, or perhaps herself.
“It’s my first time knitting, so there are bound to be many flaws. If you dislike it, just say so.”
“Dislike what? If Master knitted it, even if it’s ugly, it’s a treasure,” Jin said dismissively.
Xue Yin was well aware of the “masterpiece” she had produced, so she didn’t dwell on the word “ugly.”
She had been worried he was only putting it on to make her happy.
Jin didn’t move, letting Xue Yin wrap the scarf around him, loop by loop.
The scarf carried her body warmth and the lingering resonance of her magic, emitting Xue Yin’s unique herbal scent.
It perfectly subdued the restlessness of the black flame.
The yarn against his skin felt as if his master’s hand was still resting there.
The crooked stitches, the stray threads poking out, the uneven edges of the scarf—all of it had now become Jin’s most precious possession.
He suddenly remembered how, during this period, his master had always been huddled with Ailia, whispering about something.
So she was secretly knitting a scarf all along.
Jin smiled, reaching up to touch the scarf, his eyes shining brightly enough to sprout stars.
“Since Master gave it to me, I’ll wear it always.”
Hearing this, Xue Yin blushed, though her voice lacked any real force.
“Are you an idiot? Why wear it all the time? It’s for you to wear when it’s cold. When the weather warms up, I’ll put it away.”
Just at that moment—
Ailia stood at the cave entrance, her cloak dusted with frost, her breathing slightly labored.
She approached quickly, lowering her voice.
“Five miles to the south, two forces are engaged in battle. One side has fewer than twenty people, protecting a carriage with ice crystal patterns.”
“And the other side?”
Jin was already sitting bolt upright beside Xue Yin, asking with concern.
In contrast, Xue Yin beside him was still slightly flustered by Ailia’s sudden appearance, fumbling awkwardly…
“Black Scale Guard elites, roughly a hundred and fifty of them,” Ailia said rapidly, ignoring Xue Yin’s fluster.
“They are well-equipped and were shouting the whole time, ‘We, the Black Scale Guards, act on the Count’s orders to purge the surrounding bandits.'”
Xue Yin and Jin exchanged a glance, a chill running down their spines.
As the two stood up, Jin instinctively reached out a hand toward Xue Yin, wanting to help her up.
Xue Yin was stunned for a moment, then almost without thinking, placed her hand in his palm.
Ailia continued, “The carriage guards won’t hold out much longer. Any later, and there will only be corpses left.”
The three of them rushed out, their figures swallowed by the wind and snow.
In the distance, flames shot into the sky, staining half the night sky red.