Stephen Brooks saw the young man reading by the campfire turn around, his features strikingly handsome. Her face flushed suddenly, and she performed a curtsey: “We are relatives of the Hu family, traveling and have arrived here. The city gates are not yet open, and there is wind and snow. May we come in to rest and take shelter from the snow?”

　　It was rare to see people traveling through the night, so Edward Jr. Sutton looked them over a few more times, making the maid’s face turn even redder.

　　“Come in, this is a shrine after all, and I am only staying here temporarily,” Edward Jr. Sutton replied.

　　Stephen Brooks went back to report to the madam, and a voice came from the carriage: “Then let’s go over and rest.”

　　The carriage slowly made its way over, circling in the open space at the shrine entrance. A few entered the main hall, while most took shelter from the wind and snow in the side rooms. A female guard watched Edward Jr. Sutton warily—young, handsome, a scholar—highly dangerous!

　　Then the women got off the carriage. The young married woman and the young girl in the center both wore veils, surrounded by several maids and old women. To avoid suspicion, they sat far away in the opposite corner, started a fire, and took out food to roast. As they passed by, he showed proper manners, lowered his head, and did not look at them, but could smell a faint, delicate fragrance.

　　“Though I do not know the faces of the two women, with just a glance, I can tell their bearing is excellent and their background distinguished. But this has nothing to do with me. Better to keep reading; experience points are what truly belong to oneself.”

　　Thinking this, Edward Jr. Sutton began reading aloud again, not noticing that both the young woman and the girl suddenly frowned, their noses twitching.

　　“Let all under heaven dress in splendid attire to receive the rites. Grand and magnificent, as if above, as if to the left and right.”

　　“Shun was truly filial! His virtue made him a sage, honored as Son of Heaven, wealthy within the four seas. The ancestral shrine offers sacrifices, and his descendants are protected.”

　　The young woman and the girl glanced over, fixing their gaze on a spot of blood. Others saw the cooked wild pheasant and assumed it was chicken blood, but the two exchanged a look, their expressions changing.

　　Soon, Stephen Brooks came over carrying a plate of pastries: “My lady wishes to express her gratitude and sends some pastries. Please do not refuse.”

　　She smiled, but inside she was a bit puzzled. Her own lady and young miss were not usually like this. She glanced at Edward Jr. Sutton—could it be his charm?

　　Edward Jr. Sutton, unaware of her thoughts, declined politely, but seeing her insist, had no choice but to accept and thank her, then continued reading.

　　For a while, no one spoke. The young woman closed her eyes in satisfaction to rest, feeling that repaying this small favor was enough; she did not wish to have any further connection with this young man.

　　The girl quietly took out a wooden block and began carving. Edward Jr. Sutton glanced over and saw it seemed to be a carriage, and she was striving for perfection.

　　Sensing Edward Jr. Sutton’s gaze, the girl turned slightly and asked in a low voice, “Are you a scholar?”

　　“No, I’m just preparing for the county exam, which is in two days.”

　　The girl looked him over a few times. She did not react like the maids, only shook her head: “I see a cloud of bad luck hanging over you. You won’t pass.”

　　Edward Jr. Sutton didn’t believe it, but recalling the words of the wandering Taoist, he was moved and deliberately said, “We scholars believe that talent can overcome fate. All it takes is hard work.”

　　“Perhaps talent can, but you don’t have quite enough.” The girl suddenly realized she had said too much, covered her mouth, and stopped talking. The young woman then opened her eyes and looked at her: “Is your carving finished?”

　　“Yes, mother.”

　　After resting for a while, the group left again. As they departed, the sound of rolling carriage wheels could be heard.

　　“No, I have to ask what she meant by those words just now!” Edward Jr. Sutton hesitated for a moment, then chased after them.

　　But to his surprise, though they had just left the shrine a moment before, when he rushed out the door, there was nothing outside—not even a shadow of the carriages or a single person.

　　“How strange, could they have flown away?” Edward Jr. Sutton felt a sense of absurdity rise within him. He turned to go back, but when he looked again, the shrine where he had just rested was gone as well!

　　In the wind and snow, only a pile of firewood was still crackling, and on one side, the book he had casually set aside now lay in the snow.

　　“Could this really be a world of ghosts and spirits?” Edward Jr. Sutton was utterly bewildered. Such things were truly shocking. He hurried to pick up the book, looked around, and stood in a daze for a long time.

　　The meat bun was still inside!

　　Well, just consider it food for the dogs. Adjusting his mood, Edward Jr. Sutton stood there for a long while, his expression gradually darkening: “If this really is a world of ghosts and spirits, then it’s truly possible that my family’s ancestral tomb was damaged, ruining the feng shui… Damn those grave robbers, they deserve to die.”

　　“According to what the girl said, even if there’s bad luck, enough talent can suppress it—it’s just harder than usual. But there are only two days left before the exam, what should I do?” Edward Jr. Sutton pondered. Level 3 in the Four Books and Five Classics might not be enough!

　　He needed to think of a solution.

　　Linhua County · City Gate

　　In ancient times, the city gates usually opened at the hour of mao and closed at the hour of you. As the time arrived, the city gate creaked open, and snow began to fall again under the gloomy sky. In the biting cold wind, travelers hurried inside, among them a low-key yet luxurious convoy of carriages.

　　No one saw when they had appeared outside the city, nor did anyone notice anything unusual about the convoy. Occasionally, someone would glance over, only to see that the servants escorting the carriages were strong and solemn, and even the horses pulling the carriages were exceptionally robust—clearly not from an ordinary family.

　　The carriage curtains fluttered gently in the morning breeze. Inside one of the carriages, a warm fragrance lingered, and the interior was lavish, in stark contrast to the low-key exterior.