Since Lady Yun Rao had insisted on accompanying An Ziyuan with the Qilin bracelet, she had been persistently trailing behind him. Though she had been quite insistent, An Ziyuan and Wu Chang clearly disliked it, treating her with coldness. While they ensured she was neither hungry nor cold, they consistently treated her as if she were invisible—never inviting her to join them when they went somewhere or when they paused for meals. Each time, it was she who had to press forward, smiling and patiently following. Wu Chang took it; An Ziyuan didn't even glance at it, merely calmly stoking the fire. They had originally planned to reach the small town below before dusk, but unexpectedly, a winter rain fell halfway, delaying their journey. Yun Rao silently pursed her lips, holding the chicken leg and stepping closer by two paces, smiling warmly and trying to be pleasant. "Sir, please have some—this is delicious." An Ziyuan finally looked at her, still speaking with his calm, unemotional tone. "Madam Yun, I don't wish to waste time with you. You asked me to protect you, but you didn't tell me where you were going or what you intended to do. You've simply followed us day after day. When will this end?" "Yun Rao blushed slightly, rubbing her nose," I really don't know where I'm going, do I? I said I wanted to steal medicine from Master Yu's estate, but you refused to lend me a hand. Maybe, when I succeed in stealing his divine medicine, he'll be so pleased that he won't need either of you or the Unchanging to assist him anymore. Then I can return the Qilin Seal to you, can't I?" "What kind of medicine do you want to steal?" Unchanging asked curiously, chewing on his chicken leg. That day, he had heard her mention she'd like to visit the Yu family estate—she needed to steal some medicine. It was truly the first time someone had made stealing and theft sound so natural and justified. "The Purple Cloud Pill!" Yun Rao replied without hesitation, and at the same time placed the chicken leg she had originally intended for An Ziyuan into her mouth, took a big bite, and savored it thoroughly. After all, a celestial immortal doesn't need to partake in earthly life—let him continue his cultivation. "The Purple Cloud Pill?" Unchanging paused mid-chew, studying her from head to toe. "Are you ill?" "It's no wonder I've been coughing up blood all day, feeling so weak it seems like I'd collapse at any moment." Cloud Ruo gave him a dismissive glance. "Who says I'm poisoned just because I stole the Purple Cloud Pills?" "The Purple Cloud Pills are a legendary antidote, said to counteract a hundred kinds of poisons. How much could I possibly earn by selling them?" "...," Unchang stared at her. "A money-minded woman!" Cloud Ruo continued to chew on her chicken leg, then turned to the silent An Ziyuan. "Sir, you're familiar with Yu Family Manor's array. Would you assist me in stealing just a few Purple Cloud Pills? If the pills aren't tainted, I'll return the Qilin Ring to you." "No need to even think about it!" Unchang interrupted lightly. "Such a humble, quiet task—my noble lord wouldn't bother with it at all." Cloud Ruo rubbed her nose. Of course. Who would willingly undertake such a modest, unassuming task unless compelled? Especially not someone as refined and elegant as this extraordinary young lord. Gently drawing her gaze back, Yun Rao chewed on a chicken leg while stoking the fire, yet still felt unwilling. "If I die, won't you then never find the Qilin Ring again?" As soon as she finished speaking, a cold, sharp sensation settled over her head. Looking up, she saw Wuxiang glaring at her fiercely—clearly deeply displeased by her use of the Qilin Ring as leverage, and even An Ziyuan's dark eyes had subtly grown cooler. Unhappy with the situation, Yun Rao rubbed her nose and remained silent, quietly chewing on her chicken leg, eyes fixed on the fire. A dull ache had returned to her chest at night, and since receiving a single palm strike from An Ziyuan a month ago, her already frail condition had steadily worsened. Though Bai Li Kong and Qu Xiaoman had promptly used their internal energy to stabilize her heart pulse, her constitution remained weak, especially after suffering a serious injury and then falling from the roof recently, compounding her condition. If no medicine could be found, she wondered whether this journey had truly been worthwhile. Lowered her head, she casually picked up a stick and stirred the fire, gazing at the flames growing steadily brighter, yet feeling a hollow emptiness within. Suddenly, she went still, and Unchanging found himself somewhat uncomfortable—these days, she seemed to have no sense of her own dignity, always cheerful and persistently pulling at the lord’s sleeve, regardless of how coldly he or the lord treated her, until it became tiresome and yet impossible to let go. An Zi yuan glanced at her, fixing his eyes on her pale, firelit profile, slightly furrowed his brows, then spoke calmly, "Madam Yun, at least one of your injuries is mine—far from minor. I shall treat them for you. Return the Qilin bracelet to me, and I shall no longer hold you accountable for the theft. How does that sound?" Yun Rao lifted her head, offering him a smile—just as she had that day—and replied, "Thank you, Lord An." Yet she made no indication that he should treat her. Unchang grew impatient, sighing with mild displeasure. "How ungrateful! My lord hasn't even pressured you, and yet you think he's easily manipulated? He offered to heal you as a goodwill gesture—what do you think he's capable of? Don't think he'll merely let you run your course. If we're truly incensed, I've plenty of ways to make you suffer—ways that will leave you begging for life and pleading for death. Then we'll see whether you're more stubborn in body or in speech!" Yun Rao blinked her eyes, still smiling warmly, the earlier sense of melancholy completely gone. "Then go ahead and try, for I'm not sure what else I could possibly do to make you suffer beyond your wildest expectations." "You..." Unchang, stirred by her words, narrowed her eyes and swiftly snapped her fingers. Yun Rao felt a sudden numbness in her arm, which then gradually spread like a gentle stream throughout her body. At first, it was only a soft, soothing tingling, but soon it intensified into a sensation like countless ants crawling through her chest, tightening and pulling painfully at her heart. “Pfft…” The chicken leg she was holding slipped from her grasp, limp and lifeless, as if struck by the revelation. Her slender body involuntarily curled into an arch from the pain, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead, her face pale as paper. Yet she only clutched at her chest, silent, not even a sigh escaping her. An Zi yuan glanced at her calmly, raised his hand, and fed a pill into her mouth. The pill, struggling through her saliva, slid down her throat with difficulty—where the pain had previously been as intense as a hundred ants crawling through her chest, it suddenly vanished entirely. Yun Rao pressed her fingers against her forehead, tracing them from her temple down through her hair to the ends, wiping away the cold sweat that had gathered. She didn’t mind the disorder of her hairdo, simply swallowed hard, and when she lifted her head, a delicate, weak smile broke across her face. "Thank you, Mr. An!" Then, she glanced at the chicken leg already charred in the fire, inhaled softly, and silently rose, walking toward a nearby tree. "You're afraid of death!" Wuchang stared at her quiet, solitary figure, and the words spilled out without conscious effort. Yun Rao paused, then turned to him, offering a gentle smile—slightly blurred, as if uncertain. "Are you not afraid of death?" "...?" Wuchang stared at her, at a loss for words. Yun Rao had already set aside her smile, now turning her gaze toward An Ziyuan. The lively, cheerful demeanor of yesteryear was gone; she spoke quietly, “Master An, I know you don’t particularly enjoy this feeling of being at the mercy of circumstances. I don’t either—I even detest it. But there’s no choice. Not everyone can enjoy the smooth, unbroken fortune you’ve had. To survive, one must often do things that deeply offend and even repel them.” As she finished, she managed a smile, but it faded as quickly as a lotus blossom in the wind, then silently walked toward the great tree, climbed up, found a sturdy branch, and leaned against it to rest. Mysterious in origin, mysterious in destination—sometimes she's cheerful and lively, utterly unserious, with a thickness of resolve that rivals a wall of bronze and iron; at other times, she seems drowned in endless sorrow, hazy and indistinct, as if seen through a veil of mist. Having traveled with the lord through countless journeys since childhood, she had never encountered a woman so odd! After venting her frustration, she lifted her head only to find An Ziyuan now gazing at her, his gaze clear and cold, making her feel awkward and exposed. "Constant, when did you finally learn to treat my words as mere wind?" Her voice was soft yet carried a quiet authority, and the remark carried an undercurrent of displeasure—clearly referring to her unauthorized act of administering medicine to Yun Rao. "Constant is at fault!" she bowed her head, humble and contrite. An Ziyuan glanced at her, then said nothing, shifting his gaze back to the slowly fading fire. His eyes lingered on the chicken leg, now nearly unrecognizable in shape, before finally drifting away with a composed indifference.