Time passed slowly, day by day, as the winter showed no sign of ending.
After discussing it together, everyone agreed that Father Han and Mother Han would remain at Bo Xi's house for the entire winter. When summer arrived and the ground thawed, they would rebuild their collapsed home. For now, surviving the cold season was the only thing that mattered.
It felt as if they had incurred Heaven's wrath. The winter was harsher than anyone could remember.
Snowstorms came one after another, sometimes lasting for days. Strong winds carried heavy snow that piled up against doors and walls. Even worse were the sudden hailstorms—large chunks of ice falling from the sky like thrown stones. Many houses that had barely survived the first disaster collapsed completely during the later storms.
Food prices skyrocketed. Grain became scarce, and even coarse flour cost far more than before. Some villagers had already begun reducing their meals to only one or two a day.
Fortunately, Bo Xi had prepared early.
She had stored enough grain, potatoes, beans, and dried vegetables to last a long time. Still, she remained careful with their supplies.
She reinforced the house repeatedly, strengthening the roof beams and sealing the windows with extra boards and cloth. Whenever snow piled too high, she climbed up to clear the roof despite the freezing wind. Without constant maintenance, even this sturdy blue-brick house might not survive the winter.
It was because of this that the Village Chief came to speak with her.
The chief had asked if Bo Xi could allow several villagers to stay in her house temporarily. Bo Xi refused without hesitation.
Her decision earned her many unfavorable remarks.
Some villagers whispered that she was selfish despite having a large house. Others openly cursed her for being heartless.
Bo Xi did not care.
Kindness had limits, and survival came first.
She still clearly remembered the day Village Chief Han came to her door.
It was late morning. The wind was strong, and snow drifted across the yard in thin white sheets.
A knock sounded on the door.
Bo Xi opened it and immediately saw Village Chief Han standing outside. Behind her stood several villagers, bundled in worn winter clothes. Some carried bedding rolls and baskets, clearly prepared to move in.
Bo Xi's expression cooled slightly.
"Yes, Village Chief," she said politely.
Village Chief Han looked uncomfortable, perhaps because Bo Xi had always been cooperative and helpful before.
"You know the situation hasn't been easy," the Village Chief began. "Many houses have collapsed, and some families have nowhere to stay."
She paused, clearly hesitant.
"That is unfortunate," Bo Xi replied calmly. "Are you collecting funds to build temporary shelters? I can contribute some money."
She deliberately pretended not to understand the real purpose of the visit.
Village Chief Han's face showed embarrassment.
"No… it's not like that."
She hesitated again, glancing back at the villagers behind her.
One of them finally lost patience.
"We want to stay in your house for a while," the villager said bluntly. "Everyone should help each other in times like this."
Bo Xi's expression hardened.
"No," she said firmly. "That's not possible. There's no space left. My in-laws are staying with us as well."
The villagers exchanged dissatisfied looks.
One woman muttered, "Your house is the biggest in the village. How can there be no space?"
Bo Xi met her gaze steadily.
"A house looks big from the outside," she said evenly, "but we still need room to store food and firewood. If supplies get damp or spoiled, none of us will survive the winter."
Her tone was calm but carried no room for negotiation.
Village Chief Han sighed quietly, understanding that Bo Xi would not change her mind.
Still, she tried once more.
"They won't stay long," the chief said gently. "Just until the weather improves."
Bo Xi shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Village Chief, but I cannot take that risk."
Silence followed.
The villagers' expressions turned ugly, but none of them dared argue further. Bo Xi's reputation as someone capable and not easily bullied was well known by now.
Finally, Village Chief Han nodded reluctantly.
"Alright… I understand."
She turned and led the group away.
As they left, Bo Xi heard someone mutter under their breath.
"Cold-hearted scholar."
Bo Xi closed the door without reacting.
She did not feel guilty.
In a harsh winter like this, letting strangers into the house meant risking food shortages, illness, theft—or worse.
She would help when she could.
But she would never gamble with her family's survival.
After closing the door securely and dropping the wooden bar into place, Bo Xi turned and walked back toward the kitchen. The warmth inside felt reassuring after the biting wind outside.
In the kitchen, Han Fei, Han Bei, and Father Han were busy preparing the midday meal. Steam rose from the pot over the stove, and the smell of boiling vegetables filled the air.
Han Fei looked up first. He immediately noticed the tight expression on Bo Xi's face.
"What's the matter?" he asked with concern. "We heard voices outside."
Bo Xi sat down heavily on the chair beside the table and let out a slow breath.
"It was the Village Chief," she said. "She brought several villagers with her. They wanted to stay here."
Han Fei froze mid-motion, still holding the ladle.
"Stay… here?" he asked, both surprised and worried.
Bo Xi nodded.
"They came carrying bedding and bundles. It was obvious what they intended."
Han Fei's face paled slightly.
"Then… what did you say?"
"I refused them," Bo Xi answered calmly.
The tension in Han Fei's shoulders visibly eased.
"That's good," he said softly.
Father Han frowned deeply as he stirred the pot.
"It must be because you've always been helpful," he said. "The Village Chief probably thought she could pressure you into agreeing."
His tone carried clear displeasure.
"This winter is too dangerous," Bo Xi said seriously. "Food prices are rising every day. I heard in town that thieves have become more active. When people are desperate, they will do anything to survive."
The kitchen fell silent for a moment except for the crackling of firewood.
Han Bei quietly adjusted the fire, listening without speaking.
Father Han sighed heavily.
"I hope this cursed winter ends soon," he said. "And don't worry—we won't be the only household refusing. Many families barely have enough for themselves."
Bo Xi nodded but did not look reassured.
Just then, Mother Han entered the kitchen slowly, leaning slightly on the doorframe. Her injured leg had improved, but she still walked with a limp.
"I heard everything," she said quietly.
Everyone turned toward her.
"I think they will come again," Mother Han continued. "And next time, they may not leave so easily."
Her voice was calm, but the seriousness in it made the room feel colder.
"We should be prepared."
Father Han nodded immediately.
"Yes. We need to be ready."
He straightened slightly, his expression turning firm.
"We should keep the doors locked at night and place tools nearby in case we need them."
Bo Xi nodded in agreement.
"I'll reinforce the doors and windows again," she said. "And from now on, we shouldn't open the door easily unless we know who it is."
Han Fei looked uneasy but determined.
"I'll keep watch in the evenings," he said. "At least until things settle down."
Bo Xi glanced at him and shook her head gently.
"You still need rest," she said. "We'll take turns if necessary."
The wind howled faintly outside, rattling the shutters.
Inside the kitchen, the warmth of the fire could not fully chase away the growing sense of unease.
Everyone understood that the worst part of winter might still lie ahead.