Chapter 4

When Fu Jing woke up, he found himself lying in a plain yet cozy room.

Outside the window, snow was still swirling down, but the warmth inside melted away any chill.

Yuanxi had brought him to an inn.

To take him with her, she still needed his agreement.

She had asked him yesterday, but before he could reply, he had fainted.

“You’re awake.”

Yuanxi was sitting by the window.

Hearing him stir, she quickly came over.

Fu Jing instinctively shrank back, eyes full of guarded wariness.

Since young, he’d been tormented in the Fu manor, long used to keeping his distance from others—especially from those who showed him kindness.

He never believed there was such a thing as kindness without a reason in this world.

Last night, he had felt too wronged.

One sentence from her had triggered a flood of tears.

He was already this grown, yet he’d cried his heart out.

Thinking back on it, he felt a little shy.

His face flushed red.

Yuanxi didn’t mind his reaction.

She simply looked at him quietly, her voice calm as ever.

“You don’t need to be scared. I won’t hurt you.”

Fu Jing didn’t answer, still watching her with guarded eyes, as if waiting to see what she would do next.

“Would you be willing to come with me?” Yuanxi asked gently.

“I’ll treat you well. I’ll raise you.”

Fu Jing froze for a second.

She wanted to take him with her? Was willing to raise him?

“Why?”

Yuanxi gave a bitter smile.

Could she tell him the truth?

She thought about it for a long while.

Though the other party was still a child, he was already eight.

Clearing her throat, she decided to come clean.

“Ahem! It’s like this—I’m the peak master of Yuqiong Peak, a cultivator. I’ve calculated that I’ll face a great calamity ten years from now, and I’ll need your help to survive it. Only then can I break free from that disaster.”

Fu Jing was stunned by her words.

Cultivator?

He’d spent most of his life hidden away in the inner courtyard.

No one had ever told him about the outside world.

He had no way of knowing.

Once, purely by accident, a servant dropped a storybook from his sleeve.

It spoke of fantastical immortal realms.

He secretly kept it and read it in private.

The tales shook him deeply.

Though he was still young, he knew well enough that those books were usually just made-up stories.

How could people possibly live forever or ride clouds through the skies?

Looking at the young girl in front of him, who looked no older than eighteen at most—she was only a few years older than he was—she said she’d raise him.

But she was still a girl from the inner chambers herself.

How was she going to raise him?

Seeing the doubt on his face, Yuan Xi looked a little embarrassed.

“You don’t believe me?”

“How do you prove you’re a cultivator?”

Luckily, over the past ten years, she had trained hard according to what little memory she had left.

She had managed to recover a bit of her spiritual energy.

A small demonstration was no big deal.

Yuanxi walked to the table, picked up the teapot and poured a cup of tea, then brought it to the bedside and handed it to him.

“Touch it. Isn’t it cold?”

Fu Jing lifted his hand and touched the teacup curiously.

It was indeed icy cold.

Yuanxi held the cup with one hand and slowly channeled her spiritual energy.

The tea inside the cup began to steam gently, then it started to boil—just like freshly boiled water.

The sight stunned him.

Fu Jing reached out and touched the cup again, but quickly pulled his hand back after getting burned.

Heavens?! She really was a cultivator.

“Now you believe me, right?” Yuanxi smiled.

Heating water like this was a trick she’d just learned not long ago.

Super convenient.

When the water cooled in winter, she didn’t need to reboil it—just used this move.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Since she was a cultivator, she wasn’t some maiden waiting to be wed, so it made sense she could take him in.

“Ask away.”

“How old are you?”

“…I don’t really know.”

“!!”

Seeing the disbelief written all over his face, she hurriedly explained, “Because I don’t age or die, I really don’t know how long I’ve lived.”

There was one more thing—she wasn’t originally the owner of this body.

Her memories were fuzzy, all she knew was that she had lived a very, very long time.

“Then… are you powerful?”

Thinking about how she had only recovered 20% of spiritual energy, and had been hiding from everyone in the immortal sects out of fear that old enemies might come knocking… Right now, she was someone who could be pinched to death at any moment, completely unable to win against anyone.

She replied honestly, “Not powerful.”

“……”

Fu Jing had always thought that anyone who practiced cultivation would be immortal and invincible.

It wasn’t until he grew up and heard people talk that he realized Yuan Xi was the only one—yes, the only one—who cultivated to true immortality.

She was also the only one who, back in that battle at the Summit of Gorges, had defeated the eight great sects.

“Do you want to live with me?”

Fu Jing nodded quickly, even his voice was a little excited.

“I do!”

He felt a kind of warmth he hadn’t felt in ages.

That feeling—it was irresistible.

Yuanxi was overjoyed.

She called a carriage and took him away from that place, heading toward her own wooden house.

On the carriage, it was Fu Jing’s first time experiencing what people meant when they said something was fragrant, warm, and soft.

The seats were padded, so even when the road jolted them about, his butt didn’t hurt.

The carriage was well sealed, and outside, the snow was falling in light, fluttering flakes, as gentle as goose feathers.

Inside, it wasn’t cold at all.

He looked out and saw the land blanketed in thick, spotless white—like someone had rolled out a giant snow-colored velvet carpet.

The faraway mountains were wrapped in endless white, blending into the sky.

Cold wind howled through the woods.

The branches were heavy with glistening icicles, each like a delicate work of art.

In this world of swirling snow, everything looked unusually peaceful and beautiful.

People on the roads bundled in thick cotton coats, wearing hats and gloves, treading carefully.

Children, on the other hand, were cheerfully building snowmen and throwing snowballs, reveling in winter’s joy.

Fu Jing looked at those smiling faces and, for the first time, felt what it meant to be happy.

He realized… he could also feel happiness.

He could also hide from the cold in a warm, cozy carriage.

Along the way, Yuanxi was afraid he’d be cold or hungry, so she had prepared thick cotton clothes, and all kinds of pastries and sweet treats.

If the child got thirsty, she’d heat water for him.

If he was hungry, there’d be roasted chicken, roast duck, grilled fish—all fed to him nonstop.

The coachman kept his eyes on the road.

Yuanxi would hand food to him from time to time.

They chatted and laughed along the way.

The whole journey was light and cheerful.

After five days of travel, they finally reached a wooden cabin deep in the forest.

She’d discovered this place five years ago while passing through.

This rustic little house looked just like a beautiful painting.

It sat nestled in a quiet mountain forest, surrounded by lush trees and a gently flowing creek.

The architecture was distinct, built in traditional woodwork style, with green tile roofing that gave off a timeless, elegant feel.

Yuanxi loved it here.

She insisted on buying the place from its original owner.

Just to add—her remaining fortune had all been stored in a storage pouch.

She wasn’t broke.

That money was enough for her to live extravagantly for decades.

After bidding farewell to the coachman and paying him handsomely for the journey, Yuanxi led Fu Jing inside.

A faint fragrance of wood filled the air, calming and refreshing.

The interior was simple and tasteful, decorated with antique-style furniture and ornaments.

The walls were hung with beautiful calligraphy and paintings, creating a scholarly, refined atmosphere.

In the main hall, there was a carved wooden table in the center, surrounded by a few elegant chairs.

On the table sat a set of blue-and-white porcelain tea ware, exuding the faint aroma of tea.

Yuanxi poured two cups of tea and handed one to Fu Jing.

“Treat this as your own home. No need to be polite.”

Fu Jing didn’t say anything, just took the cup and had a sip.

It was warm—so warm.

So good.

Sunlight streamed through the window, lighting up the whole room.

It felt especially cozy.

Yuanxi brought him into his room.

“This one’s for you.”

There was a traditional-style bed by the wall, covered in soft bedding.

A painting of a court lady hung on the wall, adding a touch of elegance.