53 - Crazy! Criticizing the Prime Minister for Being a Servant

### Chapter 53: She is Waiting In the vast, snow-covered northern frontier, everything in sight is an endless expanse of white. The small town located in Luoyuan of the northern frontier has a sparse population, barely reaching a hundred people. However, unlike the usual poverty and dullness, the town is bustling as many townsfolk gather in front of a small inn, eager for excitement. Perhaps the townsfolk's lives were usually too monotonous, making even the slightest of incidents a cause for great interest. "That little beggar is here stealing again, so pitiful for such a small child..." one person remarked, only to be interrupted by another, "A beggar? A beggar is still a person. This creature was raised by wild beasts from the mountains, doesn't speak human language or act like one. When they can't find food in the mountains during winter, they come to our town to steal." "That little one, no more than six or seven years old. Tsk tsk, look at how dirty, you can't even tell the gender. Look! Old Zhu is beating the kid!" The townsfolk's voices carried a tinge of excitement. Old Zhu, who had two steamed buns stolen, unleashed his fury without reservation, verbally abusing the shivering little beggar curled up on the ground. His words soon turned into violent kicks and punches, showing no mercy to the small figure that was clearly just a six or seven-year-old child. The crowd's noise grew louder, mostly cheering him on. The beggar, covered in dirt, with hair matted and filthy, had her face buried tightly between her knees. She wore only a thin layer of tattered clothing, barely enough to cover her body, let alone keep her warm in the icy snow. Her exposed, dirty skin was marred with scars, and her right wrist was grotesquely swollen. Amid the chaotic scene, she whimpered like a little dog, but no one paid any attention. As night fell, the sky darkened till no stars or moon could be seen, leaving only the glow from the snow-covered streets. After having had their fill of entertainment, the onlookers slowly dispersed. Old Zhu grabbed the beggar and tossed her into the corner, spat on her with disgust, and slammed the inn door shut. In the thickening night, snow began to fall again, the large, soft flakes unique to the northern frontier drifting gently down, occasionally stirred by the north wind. The beggar huddled in the corner, resembling a lump of black garbage buried in the snow. The falling snowflakes lost their usual poetic charm and only emphasized the biting cold. The sky grew darker, and the beggar's once-constant shivering ceased, her barely perceptible breathing stilled. Everything fell silent, as though all life had drained away. In the snow-covered street of the small town, only the wind and the snow moved. Lin Yuxue swiftly kept pace, wielding a slender longsword that, though not as renowned as the Luoshuang in Ran Fan Yin's hand, was a rare treasure capable of slicing through hair. Ran Fan Yin had entangled Mo Shi's right hand, and Lin Yuxue, in perfect synchronization, brandished her sword toward Mo Shi's back. Mo Shi, with sharp reflexes, sidestepped, narrowly avoiding a fatal strike. However, the sharp blade still managed to tear a large gash in the protective soft armor on his back, revealing a thin trace of blood. With a loud roar, Mo Shi looked at Ran Fan Yin, grabbing the blade of Luoshuang with his bare hands, disregarding the blood streaming from his right hand, and swung his spiked club viciously at Lin Yuxue with his left hand. Lin Yuxue, having just retracted her previous move, barely had time to react. As she turned her head, the spiked club was already at eye level. She tried to raise her sword in defense but was a fraction too slow. Steeling her resolve, Lin Yuxue closed her eyes tightly. Come on then! At worst, I'll be disfigured. As the Young Master of Chaosha Valley, why should I fear you? The spiked club barely grazed her cheek before an overpowering force forcibly stopped it. Lin Yuxue, not feeling the anticipated pain, opened her eyes. It was Ran Fan Yin. Her left hand, bare and bleeding, had caught the spiked club bristling with spikes. Her almond-colored eyes were filled with frost, so piercing that a mere glance would send shivers down one's spine. She held Luoshuang in her right hand, which was still gripped by Mo Shi. She couldn't relinquish her sword, so in a moment of desperation, she used her left hand to intercept the spiked club aimed at Lin Yuxue. The sharp club pierced deeply into Ran Fan Yin's left hand, causing blood to flow freely. Her left wrist was still bandaged, and the forceful movement reopened the old wound beneath, soaking the white cloth red. Fresh and old blood trickled down her pale wrist, staining her white clothes a vivid crimson. "Your reaction is a bit slow," Ran Fan Yin remarked coldly, glancing at Lin Yuxue. Lin Yuxue immediately snapped back to reality. With both of Mo Shi's hands restrained by Ran Fan Yin, it was the perfect opportunity. Mo Shi roared, releasing his grip on Luoshuang's blade, intending to attack Lin Yuxue. But Ran Fan Yin gave him no chance, fiercely swinging Luoshuang and completely severing Mo Shi's right hand, sending it flying! "AAAAAHHHH!!!" Mo Shi roared in madness, his eyes blazing red. Lin Yuxue plunged her sword into Mo Shi's chest, the spray of blood drenching her, then delivered a flying kick that sent Mo Shi sprawling five or six meters away. She followed up with dozens of thrusts, stopping only when Mo Shi lay motionless like a dead pig. Turning around, Lin Yuxue urgently called, "Ran Fan Yin! Your hand..." Ran Fan Yin deftly sheathed her sword, nonchalantly brushing her blood-soaked left hand into her wide sleeve, concealing the wound perfectly. She said calmly, "Just a superficial wound, no need to worry." By this time, Luo Chengyun and other disciples had finished dealing with the remnants of the Burn Dragon Fire Banner and approached them. "You handled it quite fast. Any of you injured?" Luo Chengyun asked, looking at Ran Fan Yin. Lin Yuxue, feeling guilty and about to respond, was preempted by Ran Fan Yin, who said, "These mere minions couldn't harm us." Luo Chengyun nodded. "Good. I'll continue the search elsewhere. You and the Young Master should head back." "Understood." Ran Fan Yin replied, sheathing her sword and walking away with her usual measured, leisurely steps. Lin Yuxue, lips tightly pursed, followed her back to their lodging. Watching the composed figure ahead, her slender body wrapped in ethereal white robes, ebony hair flowing gracefully, Lin Yuxue felt a complicated mix of emotions. She thought of those cool, almond-colored eyes and felt even more unsettled. Ran Fan Yin went straight to her room, closing the door behind her without a word to Lin Yuxue. Lighting a dim candle, Ran Fan Yin sat silently at the table, which was set with clean bandages, medicinal ointments, and other medical supplies. Gazing at her bloodied left hand, she sighed softly. The previously completely red bandages were slowly unwrapped, revealing wounds from the molten iron splashed during sword forging, which had healed slowly due to ore toxins. Now, after a fight, the scars had split open again. She let her injured hand hang at her side, picked up a jar of alcohol with her right hand, and poured it over the wounds with a squint. The pain made Ran Fan Yin groan and tremble, the muscles in her neck tensing. Lin Yuxue, after changing into clean clothes, decided not to rest but instead hesitated before knocking on Ran Fan Yin's door. "Master Ran Fan Yin, are you there?" Ran Fan Yin, still cringing from the pain, looked towards the door, coughed lightly to mask her discomfort, and said, "Come in." Lin Yuxue stepped in, and upon seeing Ran Fan Yin's state, frowned slightly. "Is the injury severe?… It's my lack of skill that made you suffer." "Your swordsmanship is commendable, just a bit slow in reaction," Ran Fan Yin replied, head lowered as she dried her wrist. "How can you treat your wound alone with an injured hand? Let me help you." "Thank you for your kindness, but I can manage," Ran Fan Yin replied, still in her usual flat tone. Ignoring her formality, Lin Yuxue grabbed the ointment and took Ran Fan Yin's left hand. The cold touch spread through her warm palm infinitely. How could someone’s hand be this cold? Truly from the far north, unlike the perpetual spring of Chaosha Valley, even body temperature is much lower. Ran Fan Yin was unaccustomed to the sudden warmth enveloping her hand, feeling as though it might burn her. She struggled slightly, disliking physical contact with others. "Why are you dodging? After all this time together, are you still uncomfortable with me? You were just blocking that spiked club for me," Lin Yuxue remarked. Upon hearing this, Ran Fan Yin ceased her resistance, letting Lin Yuxue take over. Lin Yuxue evenly applied the detoxifying potion to the wounds on her wrist and palm. The potion hissed upon contact with blood and flesh, like it was corroding the skin away. The intense pain from her wrist was unbearable even for Ran Fan Yin, who knew the potion's potent effect, causing her to wince and narrow her eyes tightly. Seeing Ran Fan Yin's reaction, Lin Yuxue chuckled softly. "Even the venerable Master of the Northern Punishment fears pain." Saying this, she fished out a wooden mechanical mouse from her sleeve and waved it in front of Ran Fan Yin. It was a delicate, finely crafted little mouse made of wood, with a particularly detailed head. Lin Yuxue placed the mouse on the table. "Press its head with your hand." Ran Fan Yin lifted her right hand and gently poked the mouse’s head with a finger. Immediately, the wooden mouse came to life, scurrying around the table like a real one, in a frantic, headless manner. "Pat its head," Lin Yuxue reminded with a smile, while applying medication to the wounds. 《玩具送你》 ### Chapter 53: She is Waiting Ran Fan Yin reached out to touch the wooden mouse's head as instructed. Instantly, the mouse quieted down, stopping at Ran Fan Yin's fingertip. It raised its front body, two small paws delicately hugging the finger, and its intricately carved mouth gently nibbled on it. It didn't hurt at all; it even tickled a bit. Ning Song Wu, hearing the commotion, hurriedly turned her head. Seeing Ran Fan Yin's left hand wrapped in layers of bandages, she felt a deep pang of sorrow, momentarily forgetting any personal grievances. She struggled to sit up and grasped Ran Fan Yin's left hand. Seeing Ning Song Wu finally show some reaction, Ran Fan Yin cooperated quietly, curious to see what she intended to do. Ning Song Wu just held Ran Fan Yin's hand, tears streaming down her cheeks and soaking into the snowy white bandages, resembling delicate plum blossoms in bloom. She tightened her grip on Ran Fan Yin's hand. How could her master be injured? Someone as powerful as her master should never be hurt. Ran Fan Yin extended her right hand to wipe the tears from Ning Song Wu's face, sighing softly, “Silly child.” Her actions were incredibly gentle, wiping away Ning Song Wu's tears, then placing a hand on her soft hair and gently stroking it. "Creaaaak——" Suddenly, Cen Ran pushed the door open. Startled, Ning Song Wu quickly pushed away Ran Fan Yin's hand and retreated under the covers. Her guilty thoughts made her overly cautious, fearing her feelings for Ran Fan Yin might be revealed to others. Ran Fan Yin's hand awkwardly hung in mid-air before slowly forming a fist and retracting to her side. Cen Ran raised an eyebrow, glancing at Ning Song Wu, "Junior sister, you're awake? You look better than before." Luo Sheng, who followed behind Cen Ran, entered with frost and dew still clinging to his hair, not yet brushed away, and a slightly anxious expression. He walked directly to Ran Fan Yin and spoke in a lowered voice: “Master… Senior Sovereign Jiang wants to see you at the Sword Forge immediately. He has something important to discuss with you.” The first thought Ran Fan Yin had was about the sword, so she asked, "Is it about the item in the forge?" "Yes... but not only that. Senior Sovereign Jiang said, besides your requested item, there's another very urgent matter." “Very urgent?” “Yes, the Senior Sovereign emphasized repeatedly that you must go immediately.” “Alright, I will go now.” Ran Fan Yin stood up. Cen Ran couldn't help but say, "Master, how many days has it been since you rested? After seeing Senior Sovereign Jiang, come back and rest at Rongku Pavilion." Cen Ran also noticed a dark tinge on Ran Fan Yin's lips, a sign of poisoning. Although the toxin was mild, improper treatment could lead to more troubles. “It’s nothing,” Ran Fan Yin replied calmly and then turned to look back at Ning Song Wu. “However, Ning Song Wu seems to... reject me at the moment, so I won’t visit her for now. Take good care of her and make sure she takes her medicine. If there's anything wrong with her, inform me immediately.” Cen Ran glanced at Ning Song Wu in confusion. How did this little one grow bold enough to defy their master? Ran Fan Yin silently turned and stepped out, her brows lightly frosted, exuding a subtle chill. The once sunny weather outside had turned overcast, and tiny snowflakes danced in the air. A disciple waiting by the door handed Ran Fan Yin a paper umbrella and draped a thick crane-feather cloak over her shoulders. Though the thickness of clothing wasn't particularly important, her attire from Luocheng was indeed quite light compared to what others wore. Ran Fan Yin adjusted the collar of the crane-feather cloak and paused to look back at the closed wooden door, eyes downcast as she left, umbrella in hand. Ran Fan Yin remained focused on the wooden mouse, a slight smile tugging at her lips. As she moved her fingers, the mouse mirrored her movements, utterly captivating her. Gradually, she became engrossed in playing with it. "All done," Lin Yuxue said unexpectedly. Ran Fan Yin raised an eyebrow, looking at her wrist. Several layers of ointment had been meticulously applied, covering every small wound in perfect order. Lin Yuxue picked up a clean bandage and began wrapping Ran Fan Yin's hand with great care and gentleness. The dim candlelight cast a soft glow on her face, accentuating her delicate features, making her look even more gentle and charming. “What is this thing exactly? What is it for?” Ran Fan Yin asked, pointing at the wooden mouse. Lin Yuxue glanced at Ran Fan Yin with a playful smile. “Just a common toy, something to amuse children. If you like it, it’s yours.” Ran Fan Yin felt her face heat up with embarrassment, her ears turning red. “The esteemed Master of the Northern Punishment can get shy? Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” Lin Yuxue’s laughter was soft and light, her voice as gentle and soothing as a cool breeze flowing in through a window on a stifling summer night, bringing a sense of comfort. Ran Fan Yin turned her head, looking out the window. A white pigeon perched on the window sill, its head tilted, observing her. Ran Fan Yin’s heart skipped a beat: it was a pigeon from the Northern Punishment. She raised her hand, and the pigeon flew over, landing on her hand with a letter tied to its leg. Ran Fan Yin took the letter, puzzled. Why had a pigeon arrived suddenly? What was happening in the Northern Punishment? Opening the note, she found a simple message: Ning Song Wu gravely injured, hovering between life and death. Ran Fan Yin’s eyes widened in disbelief. She squinted, rereading the message several times. The few words stood out starkly on the paper, as solid as iron. Holding the paper, her hand began to tremble slightly, her breathing becoming erratic, and her brows furrowing tightly. “What happened?” Lin Yuxue, having finished the bandaging and tidying up, asked curiously. Ran Fan Yin’s voice suddenly turned icy: "I must return to the Northern Punishment immediately. Please inform my senior brother." With that, Ran Fan Yin stood up abruptly and leaped out of the window in one swift motion, leaving Lin Yuxue behind in shock. Leaving just like that... so abruptly? Ran Fan Yin’s ears were still red from the earlier intimate moment when she met Ning Song Wu's intense gaze. After a long while, Ran Fan Yin spoke hesitantly, “What... what are you doing?” Ning Song Wu's fiery eyes seemed to burn into Ran Fan Yin’s soul: "Master, you haven't come to see me for nine days. I’ve been waiting for you every day, missing you terribly." "Missing me... doesn't justify... such behavior..." Ran Fan Yin felt she was stuttering too much, coughed twice to clear the awkwardness, "You’re no longer a child; you should be mindful of such contact. I am your master..." Ning Song Wu clung desperately to Ran Fan Yin’s shoulder, crying her heart out as if she wanted to shed all the tears of her life. She promised herself it would be the last time she cried so freely; from now on, she would never cry easily nor hide behind Ran Fan Yin seeking shelter. Ran Fan Yin carefully lifted Ning Song Wu and placed her on her own bed. Despite her sobs, Ning Song Wu cooperatively moved with Ran Fan Yin. Ran Fan Yin gently removed Ning Song Wu's outer garments, revealing undergarments soaked in blood, making patterns on the moon-white fabric. She meticulously undressed the undergarments, exposing tightly wrapped bandages underneath. “The wounds have fused with the bandages. Removing them will hurt a lot. Are you afraid of pain?” Ran Fan Yin softened her tone, looking at the tear-streaked face of Ning Song Wu. “N-no, I'm not afraid.” Ning Song Wu replied steadfastly, meeting Ran Fan Yin's gaze. A small smile appeared at the corner of Ran Fan Yin's lips. She turned her head to the tray of medicinal supplies and began searching for something. She found a wooden box, opened it with one hand, revealing a collection of small white pellets. Ran Fan Yin took one out and placed it in Ning Song Wu's mouth. The intensely sweet flavor spread through her mouth, making Ning Song Wu's eyes close in enjoyment. "Not crying anymore? Brace yourself." Ran Fan Yin patted Ning Song Wu's head, then meticulously started unwrapping the bandages. The thin layers were soaked through with blood, fortunately, the wounds were mostly on Ning Song Wu's back, leaving the front relatively unscathed. Layer by layer, the bandages were removed, gradually revealing the ten-year-old girl's barely developed body, her chest already showing signs of growth. The slight tearing of flesh adhered to the bandages brought tingling pain. Ning Song Wu, momentarily forgetting her tears, blushed deeply and buried her face into Ran Fan Yin's cool robes. Holding Ning Song Wu close, Ran Fan Yin skillfully applied the hemostatic medicine. The scene brought her a fleeting sense of déjà vu from three years ago. The child had grown, both physically and mentally. After applying the medicine and rebandaging the wounds, Ran Fan Yin took out a clean set of undergarments for Ning Song Wu to wear. By the time they finished, it was already deep into the night. Sending her back to Hongfei Pavilion was a bit late, so Ran Fan Yin decided to let Ning Song Wu stay at Rongku Pavilion. "The room you stayed in before has been kept clean. Go to sleep there." Ning Song Wu replied hesitantly, "I-I don’t want to go there... It's cold and lonely..." Ran Fan Yin smiled slightly without saying a word. She just helped Ning Song Wu lie down, meticulously tucked her in, and then returned to her desk to continue her work. “Master, aren’t you going to sleep?” Ning Song Wu asked, peeking through the light veil. Ran Fan Yin met her gaze, “You sleep first. I’ll join you after finishing this.” Reluctantly, Ning Song Wu lay down, still looking towards Ran Fan Yin’s direction. After a long time, while Ran Fan Yin remained busy at her desk, Ning Song Wu finally succumbed to exhaustion and slowly closed her eyes. From time to time, Ran Fan Yin glanced at Ning Song Wu, her gaze softening. A surge of unspeakable feeling often rose in her throat, but she forcefully suppressed it, not wanting to disturb Ning Song Wu's sleep. The night grew deep, and only then did Ran Fan Yin put down her pen. Ning Song Wu had long fallen soundly asleep, bundled tightly with just her little head peeking out. Since Ran Fan Yin only had one quilt on her bed, she inevitably had to share it with the young girl this night. Ran Fan Yin often felt cold and found it hard to warm her bed when sleeping alone. On the other hand, the child was warm, soft to the touch, and far more effective than a warming stove. --- The next day, Ning Song Wu woke up around midday, greeted by rare, beautiful weather. Sunlight streamed in through the window, casting a golden glow that made everything look warmly inviting. Reaching to the side, Ning Song Wu found the bed empty and the sheets neat, as if no one had slept there. She sighed, her small face wrinkling in disappointment, and rolled over, burying her face into the adjoining pillow. A faint, cold plum fragrance filled her nose. The pillow was still slightly warm. Ning Song Wu smiled, rubbing her nose against the pillow, admitting to herself that her master must have risen early and neatly tidied the bed. A soft voice disrupted her thoughts: "Awake?" Ning Song Wu bounced up from the bed, accidentally tugging at her wound, wincing in pain. She quickly leaned out, seeing Ran Fan Yin still sitting at the same spot as the previous night, her eyes fixed on her writing. "Good morning, Master," Ning Song Wu said, rubbing her swollen eyes from last night's tears, her voice tender and affectionate. Ran Fan Yin glanced at Ning Song Wu amidst her tasks and said coolly, "Since you're awake, get up and tidy yourself." "Okay," Ning Song Wu replied, obediently picking up the clothes Ran Fan Yin had prepared for her and carefully putting them on. Dressed, Ning Song Wu lingered on the bed for a bit before quietly getting up. She walked to a neatly arranged bookshelf, which housed the books Ran Fan Yin usually enjoyed—some of which were about Daoism and sword techniques. She picked a book and sat down quietly on a mat, resting her chin in her hand as she started to read intently. Ran Fan Yin was mildly surprised. Usually, when Ning Song Wu was around, she would cling to her, constantly chattering without a moment’s peace. Now, she was quietly reading. The atmosphere in the room was serene and harmonious, time seeming to have come to a gentle halt with one busy at tasks and the other engrossed in her book. After an unknown amount of time, Ran Fan Yin suddenly said, "I am hungry." Ning Song Wu put down her book: "I'll go to the kitchen right away." She hurried out of the room. After a while, about twenty minutes later, she returned, balancing a tray of food. "The kitchen made boiled bread today, simmered in a rich lamb bone broth. Would you like some, Master?" Ning Song Wu carefully placed the oversized tray next to Ran Fan Yin. A large steaming bowl with soft-cooked bones poking out and crystal shrimp dumplings floating in the broth permeated the room with mouth-watering aroma. Ran Fan Yin nodded slightly: "Very well. Serve me a bowl to try." Ning Song Wu ladled half a spoonful of the broth, adding shrimp dumplings, meat, and fungus with chopsticks. Holding the bowl, she balanced it carefully and stood on tiptoe to feed Ran Fan Yin. Ran Fan Yin leaned slightly, eating from the spoon Ning Song Wu held. Seeing no signs of displeasure from Ran Fan Yin, Ning Song Wu smiled: "Master, this dish is very warming for winter. Here, eat this with it.” She picked up a small dish of translucent brown garlic cloves from the tray. Ning Song Wu peeled one and offered it to Ran Fan Yin. Ran Fan Yin glanced at it: sugar garlic. Knowing Ning Song Wu’s love for such treats, she wasn't particularly fond of such strong flavors herself. But seeing the expectant look in Ning Song Wu’s eyes, she accepted it and bit into the clove. "You can have the rest," Ran Fan Yin said, swallowing the bite of garlic reluctantly. She gave Ning Song Wu all the face she could. Ning Song Wu pulled her hand back, her eyes fixed on the half-eaten garlic clove. Master had bitten into it, Master’s lips and tongue had touched it, and now she was told to eat the remaining half… With a flushed joy, Ning Song Wu placed the clove into her mouth, savoring it slowly. This piece tasted infinitely better than any she had eaten before. Ran Fan Yin put down her pen, intending to have some tea to wash away the lingering taste of lamb and garlic. But as soon as she glanced at Ning Song Wu, she noticed a problem and hastily covered Ning Song Wu’s nose with a handkerchief. “Why are you… having a nosebleed in the depths of winter?” --- The next day’s snow-covered world remained calm, soft footsteps broke the silence. A pair of white brocade boots softly pressed into the fresh snow, their steps slow and even. Ran Fan Yin walked through the northern frontier town, holding a paper umbrella. Her calm, clear eyes, like a bowl of shimmering tea, naturally cool and indifferent, gazed straight ahead. Her demeanor belied her young appearance, exuding a tranquility akin to an old sage who had witnessed many vicissitudes of life. This serenity lent her an air of cold remoteness, unapproachable and aloof. Her steady steps suddenly halted. Sharp senses detecting something unusual, she squinted, spotting a small form buried in snow at the corner of a wall. Upon closer inspection, it was a child. Ran Fan Yin hesitated, shook her head, and continued her path, but paused again just as she was about to pass by. Her elegant brows knitted slightly. Letting out a sigh, she turned towards the wall, her voice whispering through the cold air like a brook in a silent valley: "There’s still a breath left." Her gaze softened as she knelt beside the snow-covered child, placed the umbrella down, and touched the ice-cold back. Her eyes were gentle, brimming with compassion akin to that of a benevolent deity—sacred and untouchable. However, the beggar child surprisingly lifted her head suddenly. Her dark eyes met Ran Fan Yin's, eyes pure and unaffected by the filth on her face. Her left hand, still unharmed, clenched into a little fist, filled with vigilance and fear. Ran Fan Yin took the child's small fist in her warm hands, feeling it as cold and stiff as a piece of ice. Observing the right hand hanging limply, twisted and painfully swollen, she noticed it had been cruelly tendoned. Furrowing her brow, Ran Fan Yin could not fathom how anyone could be so cruel as to harm such a young child in such a way. The innocent, rounded black eyes of the beggar child flickered with apprehension, but this stirred Ran Fan Yin's hidden empathy. After a long pause, Ran Fan Yin softened her tone, speaking as gently as she could, “Would you like to come home with me?” The child, having been abandoned in the mountains and raised by wild animals, did not understand Ran Fan Yin’s words. Memories of the twisted faces and relentless beatings she had endured during the day filled her with instinctive fear. Though she shrank back, the warm presence of this stranger began to slowly soothe her animalistic wariness. Realizing the child would not respond, Ran Fan Yin understood her mental state was undeveloped. She made the decision for her, lifting the filthy girl into her arms without a second thought, uncaring of the dirt staining her own clean white robes. With her other hand, she held the umbrella, carefully shielding them both from the snow. Unlike her previously casual stroll, Ran Fan Yin now moved quickly, using her finely honed lightness technique, vanishing swiftly into the snow-covered landscape of the northern frontier. --- The site was free of pop-up ads, a permanent domain.