The carriage slowly made its way toward the National Preceptor's Residence.
A little later, the unconscious girl in the carriage seemed to start mumbling again. Jiang Yourning tugged the cloak covering her farther up, hiding her head beneath it too.
"Cold... so cold."
Helpless, Qing Qianxue lit another brazier in the carriage, then carefully judged her position from the lump beneath the cloak and tucked his own hand warmer into her arms.
Then.
The instant he bent down and lifted the cloak, a little invisible hand suddenly appeared and slapped him across the face.
"You bastard! Die!"
That shout, at least, was full of vigor.
The slap wasn't particularly hard. It landed on Qing Qianxue's mask, leaving him frozen in bewilderment for quite some time.
In all his life, this was the first time he had ever been slapped.
Qian Yan's ears twitched as he drove the carriage. Hearing the sound, he quickly brought it to a halt.
Listening closely, he also heard somewhat labored breathing, completely unlike his master's light breaths.
But after his master's earlier instructions, he didn't dare open the carriage door without permission.
"Master! Why did I hear the Jiang Family's young lady? She didn't sneak into your carriage because she's lusting after your body, did she?"
"Shut up. Return to the residence."
Clarity returned to Qing Qianxue's eyes. He tucked the hand warmer beneath Jiang Yourning's cloak and spoke in an indifferent tone.
"Yes!"
Qian Yan felt so wronged he could cry.
The carriage traveled all the way to the gates of the National Preceptor's Residence and stopped.
Qing Qianxue picked up the huddled bundle inside the cloak and walked inside, step by step.
Watching this somewhat familiar yet different scene, Qian Yan's eyes reddened.
Once upon a time, his master had merely hugged empty