In the center of the scene stood a handsome, fair-skinned young master in a Western suit.

Four or five men who looked like Nursing Home guards had him completely surrounded. Two more lay on the ground, their arms and legs bent at grotesque angles, groaning in pain.

Although it was a case of the many ganging up on the few, it was the larger group that actually looked weaker.

The four or five Huang Family Nursing Home guards all looked as though they were facing a formidable foe. They hesitated, not daring to step forward, and even showed signs of slowly backing away.

In a blur of motion, a miserable scream rang out. Another man now lay on the ground.

"Fu Juemin!"

A fat man hiding behind several Nursing Home guards desperately wiped sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. Gritting his teeth, he pointed at the young master in the suit and shouted, "If you’re unhappy, don’t take it out on other people!

If you’ve got the guts, go find the one who’s actually responsible for your misery! Do you dare?"

As he spoke, the well-dressed fat man shot a subtle, almost imperceptible glance toward a private box on the theater’s second floor.

The young master in the suit paid him no mind. He took a step forward, and with no discernible movement, one of the Nursing Home guard’s entire arms was dislocated, sending him writhing on the ground in pain.

Just then, a commotion broke out on the edge of the crowd, and someone shouted.

"The Patrol Police are here!"

The crowd quickly parted as a group of Patrol Police in dark blue uniforms filed in. The richly dressed fat man looked as if he’d been granted a pardon, and he hurriedly scurried behind their leader.

"Deputy Director Zhou!"

Zhou He strode into the center of the area with his belly stuck out, blocking the path of the young master in the suit. "Young Master Fu," he said lightly, "how about... we just let this matter drop for today."

The young master in the suit was expressionless. "No."

With that, he took another step forward, frightening the fat man opposite him into scrambling back even further.

SHK-CHK—

A row of rifles was instantly raised, their muzzles all aimed squarely at the young master in the suit.

Zhou He’s expression darkened. He spoke coldly, "Calling you Young Master Fu is a courtesy I extend out of respect for your father. But in another ten days or so... hmph, hmph..."

"What do you mean by that?"

Fury flashed in the young master’s eyes as he lunged forward two steps.

But Zhou He wasn’t intimidated, sneering, "What do you think I mean?"

The young master’s expression flickered, becoming so dark it looked like it might drip ink.

After a few breaths, he turned and left. As he passed through the crowd, he suddenly heard a soft voice call his name: "Fu Lingjun..."

The young master in the suit turned at the sound. He saw two pretty girls in the crowd wearing light-blue cloth dresses and white stockings, looking at him with complicated expressions.

The young master froze for a moment. With a flicker in his eyes, he gave the two a slight nod. Without another word, he irritably pushed aside the gawking onlookers, barked, "Get out of the way," and strode off quickly.

"Alright, everyone, back to the show!"

With a shout, the crowd gradually dispersed.

The sound of gongs and drums began to rise from the stage, but below, the audience was still buzzing with talk of what had just happened.

"That Fu Lingjun is so pitiful."

"He was a great young master from such a wealthy family, and now, in the blink of an eye... Sigh. I hear his family sold all their factories and shops just to scrape together the funds for that Donation Decree forced on them by the special commissioner..."

Zhou Yunzhi sat on a long bench, listening to Jiang Yao beside her sighing and muttering, and her own expression couldn’t help but grow more complicated.

「Meanwhile, in a private box on the theater’s second floor.」

Song Lin, dressed in casual clothes, was slouched lazily in an armchair. Two beautiful, provocatively dressed women flanked him, feeding him grapes.

"Young Master, that’s Fu Guosheng’s son. It looks like he’s practiced martial arts for a few years..."

A man wearing Soft Armor with a scar on his face squinted at the scene below. "He disturbed your viewing, Young Master. Should I go after him and take care of him...?"

The scar-faced man didn’t finish his sentence, but the aura he unconsciously emanated already felt like a chilling frost spreading through the entire box. The two women standing beside Song Lin couldn’t even stop themselves from trembling.

"You really are a cruel one."

Song Lin shook his head with a smile and said lazily, "The man’s already being forced to sell off his family’s assets. Can’t you let him live for a few more days?"

With that, he gave a grand wave of his hand.

"Watch the show!"

"Yes, Young Master."

The scar-faced man nodded, and his murderous aura gradually receded.

.....

"Home."

Fu Juemin got into the car parked at the theater entrance. As soon as the door closed, the expression on his face became completely calm again.

Having heard that Song Lin was at the theater, he had come specifically to "put on a show." He hadn’t expected to run into Zhou Yunzhi and her friend, however.

Seven days had passed, and news that the Fu Family had been hit with the "Sky-High Donation Decree" from the Governor’s Son, Song Lin, had long since spread through every street and alley of Luan River County.

Everyone knew that the Fu Family, once the wealthiest in Luan River, was about to become a thing of the past. The banks, factories, and shops under the Fu name were all shutting down and being sold off. To scrape together the donation quota set by Young Master Song, they had even begun to sell off long-impounded goods at the pier for dirt-cheap prices.

And he, the great young master of the Fu Family, was acting like a cornered, rabid dog, picking fights and causing trouble in the streets every day.

This was precisely the effect Fu Juemin wanted to achieve.

The car drove unhurriedly through the streets as Fu Juemin observed the scenery outside his window.

After reaching Blood Refining, his physique had been enhanced, and his perception of hot and cold was no longer as sensitive as it used to be.

Only now, as he looked up, did he notice that nearly every pedestrian on the street was wearing a thick coat to ward off the wind and cold.

"What’s the date today?" Fu Juemin suddenly asked.

The driver in the front seat glanced at the rearview mirror and replied, "It’s the Start of Winter today, Young Master."

"The Start of Winter..."

Fu Juemin murmured. Suddenly remembering something, he said urgently, "Uncle Zhang, turn around and head to the pier."

"Hm?"

The driver was taken aback, but before he could respond, Fu Juemin frowned and changed his mind. "Actually, no. Go home first. I need to get something.

And step on it, Uncle Zhang."

"Yes, Young Master."

On the street, the car that had been driving at a leisurely pace suddenly roared to life and sped away, startling pedestrians on both sides into scrambling out of its path.

...

「Luan River Pier.」

Su Hui stood quietly in the wind, watching the men below load trunks and luggage onto the boat, piece by piece.

She was wearing a short, pink qipao embroidered with plum blossoms today. A hint of its snow-white fur lining was visible at the fastened mandarin collar. To guard against the biting river wind, she had put on a light-colored overcoat, which made her look all the more elegant and noble.

"Miss, we can board now."

The middle-aged woman, still dressed like a handmaiden from a previous dynasty, came up and carefully helped Su Hui onto the boat.

Inside the cabin, a charcoal brazier burned brightly. Su Hui found a place to sit, took off her overcoat, and began to warm her slightly stiff, frozen fingers by the fire, all while listening to the middle-aged woman chattering in her ear.

"...When we get back, I’ll be sure to report this to the Grand Dowager. That man, Song, has really gotten used to being the local tyrant in Yangping. To think he even dares to provoke our Su Family."

"Thankfully, you are safe, Miss. If you had suffered even the slightest harm, taking a hundred heads from his Song Family wouldn’t have been enough to atone for it..."

Suddenly, the door curtain was lifted. The boat captain poked his head in and cautiously handed over a neatly wrapped gift box.

"Just as we were about to set sail, someone delivered this. They said it’s for Miss Su..."

"Who sent it?"

The middle-aged maid took the box and asked in a cold voice.

The boat captain replied, "He said he was Young Master Fu of the Fu Family."

"The Fu Family..."

The middle-aged maid frowned. Just as she was about to say something, the box was gently taken from her by a pair of delicate hands.

"Miss."

Su Hui ignored her and opened the box herself.

Inside was a box of pastries as white as jade, nestled on a bed of fine, golden soybean powder. They were still warm, and a soft, sweet, glutinous fragrance wafted up from them.

"Start of Winter cakes?!"

Su Hui’s beautiful eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and an indescribable delight.

She eagerly picked one up and placed it in her mouth, savoring the soft, sweet, glutinous flavor. Suddenly, she noticed something tucked underneath the pastries in the box...

"The Fu Family... The Fu Family..."

Beside her, the middle-aged maid looked at the gift with a face full of disdain. "All because of the Fu Family’s trivial little mess, we’re returning late this year, Miss. We’ll definitely miss seeing the maple leaves on Purple Cloud Mountain outside Shenghai..."

"We certainly won’t make it in time for Shenghai’s..."

Su Hui murmured softly. She reached out and gently took the object from beneath the box of pastries, a trace of tenderness appearing in her shimmering eyes.

"But this year... I suppose I have seen them after all."

In her hand was an exquisite, book-sized picture frame. Inside it, several oil-painted maple leaves burned a fiery red.

「Meanwhile, on the riverbank at the Luan River Pier.」

Fu Juemin watched the boat carrying Su Hui until it was a distant speck on the water. Finally, he withdrew his gaze, turned, and gave a quiet command:

"Let’s go. Time to head back."