The frost came early this year. By the time the first snowfall kissed the forest floor, the garden had been harvested and winter stores sealed away. The house was warmer now, expanded with an insulated kitchen, a proper storage barn, and two additional rooms built with prefab materials Song Lian had retrieved from her spatial storage.
Song Lian sat near the hearth, threading wool yarn through her fingers, the rhythmic pull soothing. Across from her, Yun Zhen was drafting a more refined map of the surrounding area, brushing ink across fresh parchment with careful, practiced strokes.
"Once the snow melts," he said, not looking up, "we'll start on irrigation lines and terraced plots."
Song Lian raised an eyebrow. "You're already planning for spring?"
"Survival demands foresight," Yun Zhen replied simply. She didn't argue. Not when he was right. But before she could comment, a sound pierced the air.
Knocking.
Three quick raps. Then silence. Then another.
She froze. Yun Zhen's brush stopped mid-stroke. They exchanged a glance—alert, wary.
"No one comes this far," she murmured.
Yun Zhen was already on his feet, his hand reaching for the hunting spear he kept near the door. He nodded once, and Song Lian moved quietly toward the back wall, where her crossbow rested against a shelf.
He opened the door cautiously. A figure collapsed into the snow.
The girl in the snow was no older than fourteen. Her clothes were threadbare, her cheeks sunken, her lips cracked from cold. Her hair, matted and tangled, clung to her face. Blood stained her tunic—old, dried in some places, fresh in others.
Song Lian dropped to her knees beside the girl, checking her pulse. "Alive," she said quickly. "Barely."
They carried her inside and laid her on a cot near the fire. Song Lian retrieved a heated compress and began to clean her wounds, her face grim.
"Cuts, bruises… looks like she ran for days," she muttered. "Frostbite in her fingers."
Yun Zhen poured water and unwrapped a travel ration. "Who is she? A runaway?"
As if to answer, the girl stirred and opened her eyes, wild and frightened.
"No… please," she whispered hoarsely, "don't send me back. I… I didn't steal anything…"
"You're safe," Song Lian said gently. "You're safe now. What's your name?"
The girl's lips trembled. "Jia… Jia Mei. From XiangVillage…"
Yun Zhen tensed.
"XiangVillage was in the SouthernBorderlands," he said. "A farming settlement under Yue Town's jurisdiction."
"Was?"
"It was razed," he said grimly. "I saw the reports before I was exiled. The imperial tax collectors raised the quotas last autumn. When the village couldn't pay, they branded the locals as rebels. Troops were sent. Those who resisted were executed. The rest scattered."
Jia Mei let out a sob, curling into herself.
"They… they came for my father. He was the village head. They said he lied about the harvest. I saw them hang him…"
Her voice cracked. "I ran. I ran into the forest. I thought I'd die. But I remembered my uncle once mentioned an old ghost house in the woods. I just kept walking…"
Song Lian wrapped a blanket around her. "That house is mine. And you're not dying today."
Jia Mei clutched her sleeve like a lifeline.
"Please. Don't tell them I'm here. I have nowhere else."
That night, as Jia Mei slept, Song Lian and Yun Zhen sat in the kitchen in silence, the fire crackling between them.
"She won't be the last," Yun Zhen said eventually.
Song Lian nodded slowly. "I know."
"You saw her feet. She walked through frost and thorns for days. Desperation will drive more like her here."
"They'll need food, warmth, shelter…" she trailed off. Then she looked at him. "They'll need a place to belong."
He met her gaze. "We can give them that."
Song Lian stood and walked to her storage shelf. With a deep breath, she reached into her spatial space. This time, she didn't hesitate.
She withdrew more prefab wall panels, wool blankets, a collapsible stove, a water purification kit, and two sealed crates of supplies labeled Emergency Camp Relief, type IV.
Yun Zhen's eyes widened. "That's... more than I thought you had."
"I was preparing for disasters back home," she said. "But maybe this is the disaster I was meant to prepare for."
By morning, Jia Mei awoke to warmth. Clean clothes. A bowl of porridge. And most shocking of all a bed.
Tears slid silently down her cheeks as she ate.
By noon, the back of the house was already being cleared for new shelters. Yun Zhen worked without pause, hammering frames into the earth while Song Lian dug out heating pipes and wired solar cells under camouflage covers.
When Jia Mei asked how they had all this, Song Lian only smiled and said, "Magic from another life."
Jia Mei didn't ask further. She didn't care. What mattered was that for the first time in weeks she was safe.
And Beyond the Forest…In the snow-covered ruins of Xiang Village, a patrol captain knelt beside a burnt hut. His eyes scanned the frost.
"Footprints," he said to his men. "One child. Southbound."
He rose and narrowed his eyes toward the Wuyuan Forest.
"No one escapes imperial justice. Track her."