In the sixth year of the Qingli reign, a bleak winter sun filtered through the distant, verdant mountains as dusk approached. The weather was bitterly cold, and the dwellings in the fields were a pristine white – snow.

The clouds gradually thickened, swallowing the faint sunlight into the darkness, and the wind grew stronger, swirling the accumulated snow on the ground into the air. More snow fell from the heavens, snowflakes of different origins and colors intertwined by the power of the wind, twisting their heads in the oppressive air, displaying different shades of white and cold.

The resurgence of wind and snow made travel miserable, and people hurried to find nearby villages or inns to rest. Qing Yu Nian had not suffered floods this year, but the snowfall was substantial. Fortunately, the disaster relief efforts in the Jiangnan prefectures during the summer had been exceptionally successful, providing shelter for the affected people and reducing the likelihood of freezing to death.

This was Yingzhou, the prefecture that had suffered the most from the floods and also experienced the most rampant banditry after the disaster.

However, since the Imperial Envoy Fan Xian descended upon Jiangnan, the bandits of Yingzhou, perhaps fearing imperial authority, or perhaps dreading the rumored methods of the Little Lord Fan, had become much more docile, disappearing for a long time.

It was precisely because of this that travelers dared to walk on the roads in this snowy weather. However, now that the man-made disaster had subsided, the heavens were being uncooperative. Although the Great River was not closed to navigation, few were willing to brave such bitter cold to travel towards the capital.

Except for a convoy of all-black carriages.

...

...

The carriage windows and lower edges were sealed tightly with glue, preventing any cold air from penetrating. However, the thick cotton curtain in front of the carriage bore the brunt of the wind and snow, occasionally emitting muffled groans.

A brazier burned inside the carriage, a warm current dispersing with fragrance, creating a spring-like atmosphere within the compartment, in stark contrast to the bitter cold outside.

Fan Xian felt a little warm. He reached his right hand to his neck, loosening the clasp of his fur coat, exposing his neck, taking two deep breaths before putting down the dossier in his hand and squinting out of the carriage.

He saw a vast expanse of white, truly clean. The verdant mountains, villages, winter fields, and small ponds were all buried in snow, frozen into ice mirrors. The flood-ravaged scene he had witnessed when passing through this place earlier in the year was gone. The people who had died in the floods had long been buried, and their white bones were perhaps trembling deep beneath the snow.

In the distance, there was a row of rather simple houses, built with materials that were clearly not very sturdy or cold-resistant. However, seeing the faint lights and the hint of warmth emanating from within, Fan Xian nodded with satisfaction. As long as there was firewood to light the stoves, the people, though living in hardship, could endure. A little warmth could protect them through this harsh winter.

"Find a place to rest," Fan Xian said, frowning as he saw the snow covering the Qing Yu Nian Supervisory Council's coachman. "Traveling is important, but don't get sick from the cold."

"Yes, sir."

The convoy slowly turned a corner, driving along the widest field ridge towards the nearby village.

Fan Xian was returning to the capital to report on his duties. The court had set a return date, but he encountered the biggest snowfall in years on the way, delaying him in Shazhou for a few days. Time suddenly became tight, so his subordinates in the Supervisory Council, following his instructions, changed carriages in Shazhou City and traveled overland against the wind and snow.

Upon entering the village, the local village elder, shivering, hurried to greet them. The village elder, with his hands tucked into his thick cotton-padded jacket, looked at the convoy of black carriages with curiosity and trepidation, wondering which important figure was traveling in this snowy weather.

Naturally, an official from the Supervisory Council went to negotiate with him. Fan Xian didn't want to disturb the local population too much, so he traveled incognito. He got out of the carriage and immediately felt snowflakes and cold wind pouring into his collar. Instinctively, he tightened his clasp, draped the silvery white fox fur cloak around himself, and walked towards the village.

Hong Changqing led several Sixth Bureau swordsmen, silently following behind him.

Fan Xian glanced out of the corner of his eye and thought of Wan'er, who was still busy in Jiangnan. The Third Prince had returned to the capital a month early, so to ensure his wife's safety, he had left all seven of Gao Da's Tiger Guards in Hangzhou.

When he left Danzhou, it was early autumn. Fan Xian and his party first returned to Hangzhou. The past few months had been mainly spent cleaning up the remnants of the Junshan Society in Jiangnan, as well as other matters.

The matter discussed in Danzhou, after being approved by the palace, had been initiated by Wan'er. The development of the matter was unexpectedly smooth. The Xiong family of Lingnan and the Sun family of Quanzhou had both invested a large sum of money into the association. Even the Ming family, which was like the setting sun, had contributed something. However, Wan'er had not yet decided on the name or the true purpose of this organization, so she temporarily used the name Hangzhou Association.

With money to support them, and Fan Xian's connections, the Hangzhou Association could easily purchase grain from Beiqi in advance, and smoothly navigate the joints of various prefectures and counties without worrying about the government causing trouble. In addition, with the Fan Liu Lin three families' network covering the world, and Xia Qifei's Jiangnan Water Village's channels deeply rooted in the people, the Hangzhou Association developed rapidly. The entire Jiangnan disaster relief effort, in addition to the court's channel, had another extremely smooth and rapid channel.

However, Fan Xian and Wan'er remained behind the scenes, and few people knew the roles this couple played in the Hangzhou Association. They all thought that this matter was being presided over by a noble in the palace in the capital, and the Internal Treasury Transport Department was merely a tool.

This winter, Jiangnan had another heavy snowfall. No one knew how many families would run out of food, how many farmhouses would be crushed, or how many people would freeze to death. Lin Wan'er would definitely have to stay in Hangzhou for a while longer, at least to help the people of Jiangnan get through this period. As the old saying goes, even if it couldn't help too much, having something was better than nothing.

Lin Wan'er was busy with this matter, and her strategic talents, which had been suppressed with helplessness, finally showed a corner. Fan Xian didn't put too much effort into this matter. His wife alone was using letters to control all aspects, driving this monster with coldness, authority, or gentleness, carefully allowing it to cultivate the fields for the people of the world, but without causing the government coachman to feel unpleasant.

However, this matter was a bit tiring. The sense of proportion and the trivial details were even something that Fan Xian feared like a tiger. But Wan'er finally found something that could prove herself, so she was unwilling to let it go easily, and worked tirelessly. When Fan Xian left Hangzhou, he was worried that she wouldn't take good care of herself. Auntie Teng, his wife, was also a servant who deeply feared the young mistress, so he simply left Sisi there as well.

As Fan Xian thought, he quickly walked towards the village. The carriage had been taken care of, and guards were left behind. All of his subordinates, more than thirty in total, followed him into the village, into the just-vacated ancestral school.

The village elder followed cautiously behind. He didn't dare to ask who this important figure wearing an expensive fox fur coat was, but he kept guessing in his heart.

Upon entering the empty ancestral school, someone had already lit a stove. After the ginger tea was cooked, the women of the village busied themselves distributing it into bowls, respectfully handing them to these government officials.

Fan Xian picked up a bowl and took a sip, saying nothing. His clear and bright eyes were gazing thoughtfully at the row of houses outside the gate. He suddenly asked, "If the snow gets heavier, will these houses be able to withstand the pressure?"

This village still belonged to Yingzhou, a pitiful place that had suffered floods last year. This row of houses was gradually built last year, and they looked flimsy, so Fan Xian was a little worried.

The village elder was stunned, not knowing if this sir was asking him. Hong Changqing coughed and gave him a look.

The village elder then woke up and took two steps towards Fan Xian with a half-bowed posture, respectfully replying, "Sir, the snow will accumulate even thicker in a few days. Whether it can withstand it, I really don't know."

Fan Xian looked at him with some surprise, thinking that it was rare for a mere village elder not to exaggerate in any way. He smiled gently and said, "Then you must be patrolling every day?"

The village elder chuckled and said, "Sir, that's what you say. As the village elder, I should naturally take a closer look every day." He then added proudly, "But I think it should be fine. Don't look down on these houses, but they were designed by the Internal Treasury's master craftsmen. I heard that the people in the Three Major Workshops all live in these kinds of houses. The snow pressure should be fine."

Fan Xian laughed, and his subordinates behind him laughed as well. The village elder was a little confused, wondering what was so funny.

After asking a few more questions about whether there was enough firewood and coal balls, Fan Xian ended his conversation with the village elder. He couldn't help but feel a complex emotion welling up in his heart. Qing Yu Nian's national strength was indeed strong, and as long as it was properly managed, it shouldn't be a problem to ensure these people a normal life. And he... seemed to be gradually getting used to the feeling of being a powerful official. Even though he was just passing through, he couldn't help but ask a few questions.

A powerful official, huh?

Fan Xian sighed and walked to the entrance of the ancestral school, squinting at the increasingly dark sky outside, the increasingly cold wind, the increasingly heavy snow, and the increasingly deep cold. His thoughts drifted elsewhere. The first time he thought he should be a powerful official in this life was to his father. The second time was in the capital of Beiqi, after drinking, to Haitang.

...

...

Haitang was gone.

When Lang Tao arrived in Suzhou City with the Beiqi delegation, Fan Xian knew that Haitang would definitely return to Beiqi with her eldest brother. On the one hand, it was the decree of the Beiqi Empress Dowager. On the other hand... Haitang couldn't find any excuse to convince herself to stay. She was the Holy Maiden of Beiqi, not a princess of Nanqing. Why should she live in the Fan family's Hua Garden every day? Moreover, her most important task in coming south was to monitor Fan Xian's implementation of the secret agreement on behalf of the Beiqi Emperor. But now, with her relationship with Fan Xian, it seemed that the young Beiqi Emperor was also having a headache, so he would naturally follow the Empress Dowager's wishes and summon this little aunt back.

Fan Xian didn't see that scene with his own eyes, but his mind seemed to be able to see that scene all the time. That floral cloth dress, that village woman, swaying her body, carrying a basket, left Suzhou so freely, without even looking back.

However, although Haitang was gone, the agreement between Fan Xian and Beiqi was still proceeding steadily. The smuggling on the Northern Route, under the joint efforts of Fan Sizhe and Xia Qifei, had entered a stable phase. The channels between the two sides had been opened up, and goods produced by the Internal Treasury were continuously being imported into Beiqi, at a price that was naturally much cheaper than the market price. The Qing Yu Nian Imperial Court lost a lot of money because of Fan Xian's secret mischief... but the Hangzhou Association gained a lot of money.

It was all the people's money, so why care who was holding it or who was using it?

And the Ming family, under Fan Xian's attack, had really fallen into a stalemate. Although the Ming family still had tens of millions of taels of silver in assets, assets were not liquid. The Ming family was reluctant to sell those fields and properties to revitalize their business, so they had to borrow from outside to turn things around.

The problem was that after Lady Ming was strangled to death by Ming Qingda, this master of the Ming family didn't have time to fully accept the Old Madam’s position in the Junshan Society. Although the Taiping Qianzhuang of Dongyi City was still supporting the Ming family, the strength was obviously much weaker.

So Ming Qingda had to go to the... Zhaoshang Qianzhuang, which had extended a helping hand when he was in trouble.

Fan Xian stood at the door, thinking with his head down. The more he borrowed, the better. He wanted to take all of the Ming family's assets bloodlessly, according to His Majesty's wishes, so he had been dragging it out for so long.

He raised his head and looked at the heavy snow in front of him, his heart full of satisfaction and pride. He had restrained himself for so many years, but being able to settle Jiangnan, he should allow himself an opportunity to be proud.

Just then, his pupils suddenly shrank.

In the heavy snow, a black line broke through the wind, like a black lightning bolt. It seemed to have crossed the interval of time and space, using the wind and snow to cover up the sound of breaking through the air. In an instant, it arrived in front of him!

It was an arrow, a black arrow.

Fan Xian narrowed his eyes, not dodging or avoiding. The tyrannical Qi in his body suddenly surged. His left hand pulled, and the long sword at his waist swung up, the tip of the sword slashing straight out!

With a muffled sound.

Fan Xian's seemingly simple but actually ruthless sword struck into empty space.

In front of him, a cyan banner suddenly appeared, with a person in cyan clothes under the banner. That person had a cyan cloth belt tied in his hair.

That soul-devouring arrow was shot into the middle of the pole of that banner, the arrow feathers trembling non-stop.

On the banner were written two large characters.

"Tie Xiang."

The Supervisory Council's spies had already reacted. Six swordsmen held hard crossbows, surrounding the person in cyan clothes. The other Sixth Bureau swordsmen had followed the snowflakes in the darkness, heading towards the location where the arrow was fired from, disappearing into the darkness.

Fan Xian looked at the person in cyan clothes, his eyes calm, not knowing what he was thinking. He suddenly said, "Return."

With that simple word, all of the Sixth Bureau swordsmen who had gone out to pursue the archer returned to their posts, standing silently on the snow-covered square in front of the ancestral school, surrounding the person in cyan clothes.

Fan Xian looked up at the cyan banner and suddenly said, "Fortune teller, did you predict that someone would come to assassinate this official?"

The person in cyan clothes lowered his head, his face not visible. Only his smiling voice could be heard: "How could a mere small arrow hurt Little Lord Fan?"

Fan Xian said calmly, "So this official doesn't understand, if a big arrow doesn't move, why does a small arrow come?"

The person in cyan clothes said gently, "The small arrow is young and has a fiery temper, so it's always a little impulsive."

Fan Xian was silent.

The person in cyan clothes continued: "I am not a fortune teller..." He put two fingers together, pointing diagonally at the two characters on the cyan banner he was holding, and said, "My surname is Tie, and my name is Xiang."

...

...

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