Unable to make sense of his thoughts, Adam Spencer pulled his attention back and only then noticed that the pair of small feet in his arms still hadn’t warmed up—they remained as cold as ice, chilling even his own chest and abdomen. He couldn’t help but furrow his brows in worry.

The little maid Lily Spencer had suffered greatly as a child, spending days wrapped in the foul air of corpses by the roadside, and after Adam Spencer found her, she fell gravely ill and didn’t recover for months.

The military doctor in Weicheng had examined her, and he had even taken her all the way to Kaiping Prefecture for treatment. All the doctors gave the same opinion: congenital deficiency, a constitution of extreme cold.

Because of this extremely cold constitution, Lily Spencer rarely sweated, so the waste and toxins produced each day couldn’t be expelled. Over time, this made her health worse and worse. That’s why, following the doctors’ advice, Adam Spencer made sure she exercised vigorously every day to slightly improve her internal condition. This was the real reason why, in the eyes of outsiders, he always seemed to treat this thin, dark little maid like a beast of burden.

Even with such hard work every day, it didn’t always help Lily Spencer’s condition. Just like now, her feet were as cold as if lying on a sheepskin mattress in an ice cellar.

Adam Spencer sat up, rubbed his nearly frozen stomach, fumbled in the corner for a leather wine pouch, woke Lily Spencer with a pat, and then brought the pouch to her lips.

Lily Spencer opened her eyes drowsily, took the wine pouch naturally, deftly unscrewed the stopper, and tilted her head back to drink. Not a drop of liquor was spilled, yet the tent was soon filled with the pungent aroma of strong spirits—it must have been the throat-burning liquor from the grasslands.

The petite maid gulped down the strong liquor that could knock out a grown man in two bowls, drinking nearly half the pouch until her belly bulged slightly. This scene was hard to describe as bold—if anything, it was a bit bizarre.

She wiped her lips, her willow-leaf eyes shining even brighter in the darkness, showing no sign of drunkenness. She smiled at Adam Spencer, then lay back down and went right back to sleep.

The room was filled with the scent of strong liquor, and the cold little feet in his arms gradually warmed up. Seeing the beads of sweat forming on her nose, Adam Spencer finally relaxed and wiped the sweat from his own forehead.

Wrapping himself tightly in the sheepskin mattress, Adam Spencer slowly closed his eyes. Not far from his face was the well-worn scroll of the “Taishang Response Classic.” Every night before sleep, he would read a few pages, or silently recite it in his mind even if he didn’t read. It was a habit he’d kept for years.

“May all beings attain the practice that frees them from aging and death, and may all disasters and poisons not harm their lives.”

“May all beings be free from aging and illness, always possess the root of life, and bravely advance on the path of wisdom.”

In his light sleep, his mind followed the words of the scroll, those seemingly simple yet actually obscure methods of perception, and began to move slowly.

Gradually, the sheepskin mattress covering him and Lily Spencer disappeared, the shabby little tent vanished, the grass outside the tent faded away, and the brook turned into a swirl of white mist before dissolving into nothingness. The whole world became a realm where you were in me and I was in you. In this world, one could vaguely sense a mysterious rhythm of breathing; with each breath, the air between heaven and earth swelled like a warm ocean.

This magical sensation was not unfamiliar to Adam Spencer. Many years ago, after he first read the “Taishang Response Classic,” he often felt it before falling asleep. But he was painfully aware of one sad fact: this was not a real perception after meditation, but only a dream.

The warm ocean was probably just an illusion in the dream, because the pair of small feet wrapped in thick socks in his arms gradually grew hot. Still, it was a beautiful illusion.

Comforting himself this way, Adam Spencer drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When he woke the next morning, Adam Spencer had slept very well, but his expression was as if he desperately wanted to sleep for another three days and nights—full of surprise and dissatisfaction.

“Why change the route at the last minute?”

He looked at the cold-faced maid in front of him, suppressed his emotions, and tried to speak as gently as possible: “Going straight through Minshan to Huaxi Dao, the route I chose has no problems at all.”

No one in the tent, including the maid, answered his question.

“I’m the guide, and you all aren’t familiar with Minshan at all.” Adam Spencer looked at the maid, paused for a moment, and said, “I know you’re worried about an ambush, but I can assure you, as long as you listen to me, no one can stop you.”

The maid glanced at him as if looking at a stone, her meaning clear: what right do you have to demand an explanation from me?

Back in his own tent, Adam Spencer watched Lily Spencer packing their luggage and said, “Once we get them onto this main road, we’ll leave immediately.”

Taking out the simple hand-drawn map from years ago, he pointed to a spot and said, “At most, we can only follow them to this point. Any farther, and the other side just needs to send a few cavalrymen to wipe out the whole group.”

“You should persuade them,” Lily Spencer said, looking up at him.

“I’m guessing there’s a unit waiting to meet the princess up ahead, so they won’t listen to me,” Adam Spencer replied. “I’m not good at persuading a bunch of pig-headed companions.”

Lily Spencer said nothing, but her eyes asked: if there’s someone waiting for them, why are you still so worried, even planning to slip away halfway?

“I just have a bad feeling.”