Chapter 133: Meeting an Old Acquaintance

Although Fang Nuo had been in a deep sleep for two days, it was not due to any physical ailment. It was merely the result of experiencing great sorrow following great joy; the surge of blood to his heart and the insufficient blood supply to his brain had caused a temporary fainting spell. He should have awakened long ago, but the exhaustion of the journey, combined with his inner reluctance to face reality, caused him to sleep for two full days.

Granny Hu came to visit him several times a day. Seeing him awake, she was overjoyed and hurried back to fetch a bowl of millet porridge she had been keeping warm on the stove. After finishing the bowl, Fang Nuo finally felt a bit of strength return to his body.

Granny Hu chattered on about what had happened after he left. At the time, Fang Nuo had left home in a panic to find his father, and the neighbors were unaware of his departure. It was only days later that Granny Hu discovered the house was empty. Thinking that perhaps Fang Nuo and his father would return before long, she helped dust and clean the place. When the weather was nice, she would open the windows to let in some air; when it rained or snowed, she would make sure the doors and windows were tightly shut.

Who would have thought that this wait would last two years? That day, she was cleaning as usual. Because the door was closed and she was a bit hard of hearing, she had not noticed the sound of the courtyard gate opening. It wasn't until Fang Nuo pushed open the door and called out for his father that she was startled. She had assumed Fang Nuo had found his father and they had returned together, but never did she expect... alas, poor child.

Granny Hu was a lonely widow. Her only daughter had married far away, and her husband had passed away several years prior. Left on her own, the Fang family had always taken pity on her and looked after her, and she, in turn, loved Fang Nuo as if he were her own grandson. That was why she had voluntarily looked after the house when it was empty.

Fang Nuo was very grateful to Granny Hu, but the fact that his father had not returned weighed on his heart like a massive stone, leaving him constantly melancholy. After resting for two days, he remained listless. Changsheng could no longer bear to watch him, so he and Chang'an urged him to go for a walk in the street.

The climate north of the Han River was much colder and drier than in the south. Though it was only November, the freezing wind was already biting. Icicles that had formed under the eaves the previous night looked like tiny crystal pillars, only slowly melting and dripping away after being baked by the sun all morning.

The three of them wore thick cotton robes, covered by cloaks with hoods, and wore high-top boots with thick soles. Compared to the somber black and grey tones of Changsheng and Chang'an’s attire, Fang Nuo’s was more elegant; his cloak was made of fine silk with silver-fox fur trim, which, against his fair complexion and delicate features, gave him the unmistakable appearance of a young nobleman.

Walking slowly down the street, seeing the passersby with their faces flushed red from the cold, shoulders hunched, and hands cupped to their mouths as they hurried along, the three of them felt very fortunate to be so well-equipped. This was all thanks to Liu Qin. In her previous life, she would always look up the weather before a long trip and prepare accordingly. While she lacked such conveniences in this life, she had anticipated the North would be colder than the South and had even consulted Fang Nuo, specifically preparing a bundle of thick cotton clothes and boots. At the time, Changsheng had grumbled, thinking it unnecessary, as they didn't even wear that much when it snowed in the South. Now, however, they had to admire the young lady’s foresight.

Changsheng and Chang'an, who had never been to the North before, were quite fascinated by the icicles hanging from the eaves. Changsheng even broke one off to play with.

The three wandered aimlessly. There were few pedestrians on the street and even fewer vendors. Although the shops were open, thick door curtains blocked the view, making it impossible to see what was being sold inside. Two years had passed, yet the streets remained the same, the shops remained the same, and even the sight of a father hurrying by while holding his son looked so familiar. And yet... the scenery remained, but the people had changed. That voice calling "Nuo'er" would never be heard again.

The dark clouds in Fang Nuo’s heart did not disperse as they walked; instead, revisiting the old haunts only deepened his melancholy. His heart felt like a sieve riddled with holes, pierced again and again by the howling north wind. Only by turning into an icicle himself, he thought, would he cease to feel the pain.

"Young Master, watch out!"

Chang'an lunged forward, gently pushing Fang Nuo back while shielding him.

"Ouch!"

Someone collided with them violently, followed by a cry of pain as the person fell to the ground. Chang'an was also knocked back two steps.

"How are you walking? Are you blind?" A short servant behind them squinted at the three of them and, hands on his hips, pointed at Chang'an and cursed: "You look like a decent person, but you walk like a rampaging crab, bumping into people. If you’ve hurt our young master, how will you compensate us?"

This was utterly unreasonable. Chang'an frowned. It was clearly the other party who had crashed into them. If he hadn't been quick to pull the third young master back, his master would have been the one on the ground. They were clearly in the wrong, yet they dared to curse first—it was nothing more than bullying them for being outsiders.

Changsheng did not have Chang'an’s patience. He stepped forward, holding the icicle and smiling, "My good man, you’d better check if your young master is actually hurt first."

The servant realized his mistake and hurried to help his young master up. The moment he lifted him, his eyes flickered. On the ground, a bulging pouch lay behind the young master’s heel. The servant pretended to brush off the back of his master's clothes, and with a swift movement, he snatched up the pouch and tucked it into his sleeve.

"Young Master, shall we..." the servant asked fawningly while supporting the man who had regained his footing.

"Forget it, consider it our bad luck." The man, the "young master" the servant spoke of, was only seventeen or eighteen. Although he wore a fine cotton robe, it was far inferior to Fang Nuo's. He was much more perceptive than his servant and realized that the people before him were either wealthy or noble, not someone he could afford to offend. As soon as he finished speaking, he bowed his head slightly and hurried away. The servant paused, clutched his sleeve tightly, and followed suit in a hurry.

Chang'an patted his chest and suddenly felt something was wrong. He reached out to touch his waist; it was gone—his money pouch was missing. He glanced at the ground where they had been standing, but it wasn't there. It must have been taken by the two of them, as he clearly remembered it hanging at his waist before.

"Wait!" Chang'an called out to the two figures already some distance away.

The servant heard him, but instead of stopping, he grabbed his young master and took off running.

"Second Brother, our money was stolen by them!" Chang'an stomped his foot and turned to chase after them.

Changsheng finally understood what had happened. Without a second thought, he flicked the icicle he was holding.

"Ouch!"

The running servant felt a sharp pain in the back of his right knee and collapsed to one knee, falling to the ground, where he was quickly pinned down by the pursuing Chang'an.

"What are you doing? In broad daylight, are you trying to rob us?" The young master was stunned by this turn of events and demanded in a trembling voice.

"Robbery?" Changsheng walked over and looked at the master and servant with disdain. "You’d better ask this lad of yours what kind of business he’s been up to."

The young master looked suspiciously at the servant. "A-Gui, what did you do?"

"I..."

Chang'an twisted the servant’s arm forcefully. With a cry of "Ouch," a pouch fell out of his sleeve.

The young master’s face turned bright red with rage. He pointed at A-Gui, wanting to vent his fury, but for a long time, he couldn't utter a single word.

Fang Nuo, who had been watching from the sidelines, suddenly stepped forward, looked at the young master carefully, and exclaimed happily: "Young Master Xu? I didn't expect it to be you!"