Prince Kang's Manor
Because the lingering cold poison from last time still hadn't been fully purged, Yi Junlan's constitution remained frigid. He had been confined to bed for days, not daring to go out, with two braziers burning in the room.
At the moment, Yi Junlan sat propped against the pillows, wrapped in a thick brocade cloak. In his arms was A-Mu. The corners of his lips curled slightly.
"A-Mu? That's a good name. Did she give it to you?"
A-Mu ignored him completely, clutching a bundle of dried meat and chewing with gusto.
Gu Qing and Han Feng had noticed it the last time they saw this little creature at Miss Mo's place: their lord truly seemed to like it. Even more unbelievable was what happened afterward—after returning that day, His Highness had actually dispatched shadow guards to protect Miss Mo.
Even if they were slow, they could still understand what that meant.
If he liked her, why not ask His Majesty to grant the marriage?
And besides… Miss Mo was the general's daughter. Did she really need protection?
"Your Highness," a servant reported softly. "The shadow guard protecting Miss Mo has returned."
"Let him in."
"Yes."
The shadow guard entered and knelt. "This subordinate greets Your Highness."
"Speak."
The guard hesitated, then said, "Yesterday, General Mo returned to the Mo Residence with a subordinate—Captain Wu. The general specifically had Miss Mo meet him and take a look."
Yi Junlan's hand, which had been absentmindedly stroking A-Mu's fur, froze.
The smile in his eyes drained away. A dark chill settled over his gaze as he lowered his lashes, making his expression unreadable.
The guard broke out in a cold sweat and hurried to add, "However, it seems Miss Mo did not like him. Yesterday, Miss Mo… made her hair a mess—black, sticky, and filthy. Captain Wu looked rather disgusted. Early this morning, he made an excuse and left."
Yi Junlan was silent for a long time.
His hand resumed its slow, steady motion over A-Mu's fur. The room held only the faint crackle of the braziers.
Gu Qing, Han Feng, and the kneeling guard all felt a chill crawl up their backs.
When Yi Junlan finally lifted his head, his brows were calm as still water—yet the lazy, languid ease he'd worn while recuperating had vanished. Between his brows spread a heavy, severe coldness.
"…Mm. You may go."
"Yes!"
Yi Junlan's voice was indifferent, almost gentle.
"Snow falls every day. The roads are icy and slick." He paused, then spoke as if making casual conversation. "Captain Wu must prefer staying in the barracks."
The guard's scalp went numb. He forced himself to answer, "Yes, Your Highness."
After the guard retreated, Gu Qing and Han Feng exchanged a quick look, both swallowing hard.
Yi Junlan lowered his eyes to A-Mu again, his fingertips still brushing its fur.
"Since you like her," he murmured, almost to himself, "you'd better be obedient."
A-Mu continued chewing, utterly unconcerned.
The faintest curve returned to Yi Junlan's lips—except this time, it wasn't warm at all.
Mo Residence
Mo Lixia had been busy these past few days. She was preparing to open the fragrance shop, and at the same time she was experimenting with a new batch of goods.
In the small courtyard, she stood over a pot, stirring a pale mixture as it simmered.
Hongshang and a few maids watched with wide eyes. The smell was odd—oily, yet not unpleasant.
"Miss, what is this supposed to be?"
"A cleaning cake," Mo Lixia said lightly. "It can wash away oil and grime. This batch is for washing dishes. Once it sets, I'll make a gentler one for the face."
Hongshang blinked. "It can even wash off oil?"
Mo Lixia only smiled and didn't answer. It would be easier to believe once they tried it themselves.
"Hongshang," she asked, "is the wooden mold ready? The one I asked Elder Pi to make?"
"It's ready. I'll go pick it up in the next few days."
While Hongshang went to fetch it, Mo Lixia sprinkled in a little salt to help the soap set firmer.
The mold itself was simple—a wooden board with a neat square cavity carved into it. She brushed a thin layer of oil inside, then poured in the cooked soap mixture.
"Alright," she said, setting it aside. "Let it dry for a few days and it'll be usable."
Hongshang looked worried. "But Miss, the shop opens tomorrow…"
"It's fine," Mo Lixia said calmly. "We'll sell the balms first. And while we're at it, I'll make some medicated incense."
She leaned closer, eyes bright with confidence. "Let me tell you—what your young miss makes is not ordinary."
Hongshang immediately grinned. "Of course! Everything you make works better than anyone else's."
Mo Lixia laughed softly.
She thought of the skills her grandmother had taught her in her previous life. In another era, those same crafts could become a goldmine.
Glancing out the window, Mo Lixia realized something: aside from lacking modern tools, this world was far better in many ways. With real craftsmanship in hand, she would never starve here.