It was unclear how much time had passed when Fan Xian slowly rose from the snow, his movements indicating that he was still struggling to shake off his earlier emotions. He had taken great care of the rifle, spending many days piecing the three components back together, discovering that each part was in excellent condition, even the optical scope was perfect. Only then did Fan Xian realize how foolish he had been to kick the box those two times.

As a military layman, he had spent days merely familiarizing himself with the weapon. After actual training, he realized that there was always a significant gap between ideal and reality. Only when sunshine intruded into his dreams did he suddenly understand that those dreams were fake.

How to range, how to aim, how to ensure smooth operation—these were knowledge unknown to the people of this world. Fan Xian had no teacher; he could only fumble along on his own. The farther the aiming distance, the harder it was to hit the target. Calculating windage and ranging were even more challenging problems.

Fortunately, many of his qualities made up for these shortcomings. First, he was very calm, possessing a calmness akin to Wu Zhu's. Second, he was very stable; the nameless, overbearing Zhenqi in his body kept his physique in a state of balance. Most importantly, he was very patient, with the patience of a hunter. This was thanks to his experiences in his previous life and the "naps" of his current one. As long as his body's energy could keep up, Fan Xian believed he could lie in wait in one place for an entire day without moving.

After getting up from the snow, he felt his body was a bit frozen, so he slowly mobilized the Zhenqi in his body, relaxing his slightly numb limbs. Then, looking at Wu Zhu standing beside him like a flagpole, he shook his head and said, "If the opponent is Yan Xiaoyi, I can't guarantee that I won't be killed by his arrows before I can hit him."

Wu Zhu said coldly, "You don't need to use that."

Fan Xian did not quite understand what he meant, holding the sniper rifle as he sat brooding in the snow, frowning. "Actually, I know that my own strength is somewhere between the upper eighth and lower ninth rank. Uncle has always concealed this from me because he didn't want me to become arrogant. But if I have to deal with those ninth-rank grandmasters in the future, it would be good to have some weapons that others don't know about."

Wu Zhu said, "In my opinion, you are still only at the seventh-rank level."

Fan Xian laughed self-deprecatingly. "Then how could I have killed Cheng Jushu and exchanged a palm strike with Gong Dian?"

Wu Zhu said woodenly, "Gong Dian has the eighth rank, Cheng Jushu is at most the seventh rank. Perhaps… in the past ten-plus years I spent in Danzhou, the entire world's martial cultivation has declined."

…

…

Fan Xian frowned, brushing the snow off his buttocks. Although he did not say anything, he felt a strange sensation upon hearing those words. As for what was strange, he could not explain it clearly for a moment. He shook his head and said, "I need to become stronger, or I won't be able to protect the people around me. Wan'er, the royal family, and the Eldest Princess. And Ruoruo? Don't forget, she is also a pitiful child without a mother."

Wu Zhu remained silent.

Fan Xian smiled slightly. The moon reflected off the snowy mountains, making the night faintly bright, illuminating his face and making it appear even more pure and flawless. He saw a few snowflakes landing on the black cloth covering Wu Zhu's eyes, and for some reason, his heart stirred, and he made a move that he had rarely dared to make since childhood.

He stepped forward and carefully reached out to pick off the snowflakes on Uncle Wu Zhu's blindfold, his movements very gentle.

Wu Zhu took a step back, the timing and measure of this step were perfect, leaving Fan Xian's right hand awkwardly suspended in the air, about half a foot away from Wu Zhu's face.

"Let's go back," Wu Zhu said, taking the sniper rifle from his hand and disappearing into the darkness.

Fan Xian looked at the place where he had disappeared, and a faint sadness welled up in his heart. Such a peerless expert who had lost his memory, possessed only a few fragments of his past, what would his future be like?

——————————————————————————

In the mountains, time was easily forgotten. Fan Xian woke up every morning with extreme discipline, practicing martial arts. He would also set aside some time in the evening to learn the skills of a night stalker from Uncle Wu Zhu in this mountain. He spent most of his days living a comfortable life with Lin Wan'er and his sister, watching the girls in the manor gather together to compete in poetry, painting, music, and cards. Days like this passed by.

In between, Ye Ling'er and Princess Roujia also came to stay for a while. The young ladies from the noble families inevitably held another small poetry gathering. The Roujia girl seemed to have gotten over the heartbreak of Fan Xian's wedding. She fluttered her pair of gentle eyes that did not seem to belong to a twelve-year-old and begged Brother Fan to write a few poems for her to listen to. How could Fan Xian fall for such a trick? He excused himself to hunt tigers on the mountain and escaped.

As the year approached its end, Fan Sizhe, who had finally gotten rid of the troubles of the clan school, happily rode in a carriage up Mount Cang, excitedly pulling his sister-in-law, whom he had not seen for over a month, to play mahjong. In his opinion, finding Lin Wan'er at the mahjong table was like a peerless swordsman finding a master who could rival him. As the saying goes, life is lonely as snow…

Of course, while the Fan siblings were gathered at the manor, as the young master, he would not forget his wife's elder brother. He had already sent Teng Zijing, who had recovered from his injuries, to pick up Da Bao. Wang Qinian's team secretly escorted him along the way, so there should be no problems.

One day after lunch, Fan Xian had the servants hitch up the carriage and went with Lin Wan'er and two servants to meet Da Bao ten miles down the mountain. Before long, they saw the convoy coming. After the convoy stopped, Teng Zijing quickly stepped forward to greet Fan Xian and the Princess Consort. Lin Wan'er knew that this man was Fan Xian's first confidant after entering the capital, so she responded quite gently, but her heart had long since floated to the carriage.

"Little Xian Xian."

Needless to say, as soon as they heard this address, they knew that Da Bao had gotten out of the car. Fan Xian smiled wryly, cupped his fist in a salute, and then went up to meet his brother-in-law, whom he had not seen for several months and whose figure was still obese. Da Bao looked around at the mountain scenery with some curiosity, opened his mouth wide and smiled foolishly: "The snow in the capital is much smaller."

There was heavy snow on Mount Cang, and a lot had accumulated on the road. Lin Wan'er looked at the snowflakes in her brother's hair and walked forward with heartache, wiping them off for him, putting the fox fur cloak she had prepared on him, and complaining: "Father is also true, knowing that it is cold on Mount Cang, he did not know to prepare a few more pieces."

Fan Xian smiled slightly, thinking that Prime Minister Lin was a man after all, and there were not many women in the Lin residence now. Even if he loved Da Bao again, he could not take care of everything. He then turned to Teng Zijing and asked: "Did anything happen on the road?"

"No," Teng Zijing replied calmly, "It was at the entrance to the mountain, we competed for the road with another family's carriage that came to spend the winter, and the other party let us go when they saw that we were sitting in the Prime Minister's carriage."

Mount Cang was a place to enjoy the snow scene and avoid the hot summer. It was what the nobles in Kyoto liked to do most, and there were some local soldiers guarding the entrance to the mountain. This was just a small matter, and Fan Xian did not take it to heart. After exchanging a few pleasantries, he prepared to go up the mountain.

Unexpectedly, at this moment, they heard a burst of rapid hoofbeats coming from behind. Before long, a team of carriages drove up aggressively. This place was a fork in the road, so it suddenly became very crowded and difficult to go up.

"It's them," Teng Zijing said with some embarrassment, "Young Master, I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to be angry."

When the servants in the carriage saw that it was blocked here, they had already started cursing. Fan Xian squinted his eyes and looked over, only to realize that it was the carriage of Guo Youzhi, the Minister of Rites. He could not help but smile slightly, wondering what he was thinking.

They did not react, but the other party understood that it was the Prime Minister's carriage that had competed for the road once at the foot of the mountain. No matter how powerful the Guo family was, they did not dare to compete with the Prime Minister's residence for the road, so their arrogance was greatly reduced.

"The Prime Minister's carriage can't always block the road and prevent people from passing, we have already given way once, can't you hurry up?" A voice that Fan Xian was familiar with came from the Guo family's carriage.

Immediately afterwards, a richly dressed young master got out of the carriage and pointed at Teng Zijing and his party and shouted: "Why don't you hurry up and get out of the way? Prime Minister Lin is still in Kyoto, you people don't even know what you are doing on Mount Cang."

"Brother Guo?" Fan Xian was overjoyed and greeted him with a cupped fist.

Guo Baokun heard someone calling him and seemed particularly kind, thinking that he had met an acquaintance. He turned around with a smiling face, but when he saw that it was Fan Xian, the black boxer, the smile on his face suddenly froze, and he could not let it go for a while, looking extremely embarrassed. There was even more fear than nervousness in his eyes. Who is this? This is Fan Xian...

Once at the poetry meeting, once at the Kyoto government office, and once at the palace, he had offended the other party miserably. However, the other party was now thriving in Kyoto. He wanted to harm the other party once, but the other party would take advantage of this to rise another level. And the other party is now married to that girl, the pomp of the wedding made Guo Baokun know that he had been extremely unlucky for eight lifetimes, and only asked not to run into the other party in the future, but he did not know that it would be so coincidental today!

Fan Xian looked at his appearance and sighed in his heart, thinking that this person was also unlucky to the point where humans and gods sympathized with him, how could he meet him again?

—————————————————————————

Watching the Guo family's carriage speed down the mountain like a dozen rabbits, Fan Xian rubbed his wrist. Lin Wan'er walked over and said in a low voice: "Why drive others down the mountain for no reason? Although he is just a compiler in the palace, he is after all a close aide of the Crown Prince's brother, and he will always enter the cabinet one day. What's more, Mount Cang is not Fan... our home, if others find out, they will say that we are too domineering."

"I didn't drive him down the mountain." Hearing his wife change her words quickly, a strange smile appeared on Fan Xian's beautiful face: "I just said I would go find him for tea in the middle of the night, who knew he would run away."

Lin Wan'er couldn't help laughing when she heard him say it so gently: "You, who in Kyoto doesn't know that you are a black boxer, if you go to him in the middle of the night, Guo Baokun will naturally run away because he has a guilty conscience. He is not as famous as you, and his fist is not as big as you, what else can he do except run?"

Fan Xian said with a smile: "I also sympathize with him."

Chapter 49

Teng Zijing brought another letter, in which Baron Sinan Fan Jian seemed a little worried, as if something had happened in the court that made him a little worried, but judging from the words, this matter was not related to the Eldest Princess. Fan Xian frowned and wondered what it could be? When he opened Wang Qinian's letter, the contents of the two pieces of paper were compared with each other, and the matter became clear.

"Managing business affairs, now it's the affairs of the Supervisory Council, how long will this process take?" Fan Xian looked at the dark snowy sky outside the window and shook his head with a wry smile.

He knew that the mission to Northern Qi would eventually fall on him, the Deputy Envoy of Reception. On the one hand, it was because he had made too much of a splash after drinking too much wine at the palace banquet that time. Even if he hid in Mount Cang, it would not be enough to calm the lake.

Secondly, Chen Pingping, whom he had never met, his mother's close comrade-in-arms, clearly wanted him to take over the Supervisory Council, which was also confirmed by Teacher Fei Jie. And if he wanted to take over the Supervisory Council, this difficulty was even greater than becoming the Prime Minister. He could not just rely on his family background and his little talent to deter the thousands of dark and secretive agents in the council.

The Supervisory Council was not an ordinary six-ministry yamen. People without ability could only muddle through for a while and could not control it for a lifetime. The Supervisory Council, as the most trusted secret service agency of His Majesty the Emperor, needed stability the most. Therefore, Chen Pingping entrusted this task to him. If he could successfully rescue Yan Bingyun, then he could gain Yan Ruohai's favor in one fell swoop, and that Young Master Yan would be promoted as soon as he returned to Kyoto. With Fei Jie and Chen Pingping's secret arrangements, he could gain the support of at least half of the heads of the council.

The problem was that his father Fan Jian seemed to want him to accept the internal treasury safely and be a rich man.

Fan Xian knew that he did not have much say in how to choose between the two. It all depended on what His Majesty the Emperor thought. Thinking of that Majesty, Fan Xian frowned even more severely. If he really gradually took over the Supervisory Council, it seemed that he could only prove one of his terrifying conjectures.

The mission to Northern Qi was an opportunity for gilding, but Fan Xian knew that if he was just brass, no matter how much gilding he did, he could not become gold. Although he still did not know the most dangerous part of the Supervisory Council's plan, he could guess that this trip to the north would be very unusual.

Outside the window, the wind and snow were mixed together. At the end of the long corridor, there were faint sounds of laughter, and there were also red lights. In this snowy night, it made people feel extremely warm.

Fan Xian put the two letters in the palm of his hand, and without changing his face, he rubbed them into powder, opened the window and threw them onto the snow. The powder mixed with the powder snow, and it could no longer be found. The night wind outside blew in, and it was cold.

After the bright candle in the room dimmed, it became brighter.

…

Clouds disperse, rain stops, fog dissipates, flowers bloom and close, there is always a time.

"You... you... your hands are not clean." Wan'er turned her head away in shame and anger.

Fan Xian smiled gently: "Where is it not clean again? Every part of our good Wan'er's body is clean."

Lin Wan'er was afraid that her husband would say something even more embarrassing, so she quickly changed the subject: "Are we going to Northern Qi or not?"

Fan Xian hugged her even tighter and asked rhetorically: "Are you willing to spend your whole life with me?"

"Huh?" In the darkness, Wan'er's expression could not be seen, but it must be very nervous about why her husband asked such a question. In this world, a woman follows her husband after marriage, how can there be a reason to turn back halfway, and she said angrily and anxiously: "Why does my husband ask this?"

Fan Xian then realized that he had asked an inappropriate question and explained with a wry smile: "I just asked casually." In fact, he still had some habits from his previous life after all. Although he and Wan'er had worshiped the heavens and earth and drank from the same cup, he always wanted to hear something from this adorable girl.

"Asked casually?" Lin Wan'er said with suspicion and tenderness: "Is my husband thinking about Miss Sisi?"

When she said this, Fan Xian remembered Sisi, who had been deliberately left in the Fan residence in Kyoto. Teng Zijing had said that she was doing well in Kyoto, but his grandmother had made such a fuss, and he had to resolve it after all.

He comforted Wan'er and said: "How can I have the heart to think about these things, it's just that the two of us are going to be in business together for a lifetime, of course we have to plan for a long time, you don't know, your mother has always been unhappy with me."

This was a new and interesting thing to say, and the words "being in business together for a lifetime" fell into Wan'er's ears, making her feel warm and very satisfied, and she responded quietly: "I have to follow my husband after marriage, what else can I do?"

"Then that's settled." In the darkness, Fan Xian smiled slightly, the lines of his lips were very gentle, and he said softly: "The nobles in Kyoto are playing a big mahjong table, I wonder if I can win."

Wan'er replied with a smile: "I'm not as good as you at black boxing. I'm not as good as you at playing cards." This was the sentence that Fan Xian used to make Zhuang Mohai vomit blood in front of the palace, and it had already spread throughout Kyoto.

…

…

Outside the window, the wind and snow were heavy. Fan Ruoruo, who could not sleep, held up an umbrella, looking at the distance in the dark night, carefully keeping a distance from the edge of the stone slab. With a faint smile on her face, she felt a little empty in her heart. Her most admired brother had already been married, where was her future? Her brother had said that she should be like Sizhe, finding something worth dedicating her life to, perhaps it was love, perhaps it was poetry and painting, but she really did not know what she should pursue.

Snowflakes rustled and fell on the umbrella, hitting her heart.

Wu Zhu, who was wearing that eternal black cloth, quietly came behind her, and a voice without any emotion rang in Fan Ruoruo's ears: "Can you keep a secret?"

————————————————————————

The next morning, Fan Xian came back from practicing his skills and was surprised to find Da Bao wearing a fox fur coat and looking at the cliff below the manor with a satisfied look. Fan Xian was worried that he would accidentally fall off the Qingping and quickly walked over and asked softly: "Da Bao, what are you looking at?"

Da Bao grinned foolishly and pointed to show him: "Little Xian Xian, there are big white birds there."

In the mountains in the distance, there was a faint white fog rising up. Several black-necked and black-tailed white cranes were bending their necks to look for food there. Suddenly they raised their heads and sang, which was extremely crisp and continuous. In the call, the white cranes spread their wings and danced, which was very beautiful.

Fan Xian was slightly stunned, thinking how could he still see cranes staying on Mount Cang in this cold winter weather, could there be hot springs there? Cranes are free by nature and do not like restraint, so the crane dance in the distance looked very free and easy, and Fan Xian could not help but take a deep breath, and his spirit was refreshed.

"Da Bao, do you like those birds?"

"Don't like."

Fan Xian was slightly surprised and asked with a smile: "Why? Don't they dance well?"

Da Bao pursed his thick lips and said: "Old jumping is too tiring, Da Bao feels flustered when he looks at it."

Fan Xian laughed and patted his brother-in-law's thick shoulder. He did not know why, but the three conversations he had with Da Bao after entering Kyoto made him feel the most relaxed, perhaps because the other party was really like a child, so he did not need to worry about anything?

Crane dance is beautiful, but it is too tiring.

"Da Bao, how was playing these days?"

A trace of loss appeared in Da Bao's broad eyebrows, as if he did not know how to answer this question, but he was still trying hard to answer clearly, stuttering and saying: "Pretty... pretty... good, playing mahjong... little fat man gets angry, pretty... fun."

Fan Xian chuckled and looked at the thick snow forest below the bluestone ping, the distant fog, and the white cranes in the fog, and was silent for a long time.

End of Volume 3 Cangshan Snow