Little Ice Cub, Old Father's Mixed Feelings

The side room wasn't particularly remote, yet its surroundings were eerily quiet. The central courtyard must have once been filled with exotic flowers and rare herbs, but now everything had withered, leaving only a lingering cold fragrance.

"Bing'er, it's time for lunch."

Ying's mother gently knocked on the door. Hearing no response from inside, she pushed it open.

Li Mo shivered—he hadn't felt this cold in a long time—but he still peered into the room.

Sunlight poured through the window, dust motes dancing in the beams, illuminating the freshly finished game of chess on the tea table.

A little girl sat quietly before the board, dressed in a festive red dress that somehow exuded an air of noble elegance and breathtaking beauty.

Little Bing's delicate face carried a serenity beyond her years.

Though she lacked the ethereal grace of an immortal, there was a faint, elusive aura about her. If not for the slight flutter of her lashes, one might mistake her for an exquisitely crafted porcelain doll.

She turned her gaze toward them, a trace of confusion in her eyes.

"This is Li Mo, from the Li family. You've met before," Ying's mother introduced as she opened the food container.

Little Bing didn’t seem to remember him?

Li Mo pondered this.

At this point, they had only met once. If she recalled him now, would it mean her subconscious was awakening—and that the dream would soon end?

"Bing'er, I made your favorite dishes."

"Mother, I'm not hungry."

The little girl’s voice was soft and crisp.

"You barely ate anything yesterday," Ying's mother fretted.

Little Bing nodded and took a small bite, then immediately frowned.

After just two mouthfuls, she pressed her lips shut, refusing to eat more.

"Auntie, who was she playing chess with?" Li Mo hopped onto the tea table and sat opposite the board.

"Herself. No one in the family can beat her anymore."

"Then how about a game with me?"

Little Li Mo wore an inscrutable, cool expression.

"?"

She lifted her eyes, the frost in them seeming to pause mid-fall.

A perfect image of a dazed Little Bing.

Li Mo stifled a laugh. To others, Ying Bing’s childhood demeanor might seem odd, but to him, there was an inexplicable charm in her aloofness—especially when she spaced out.

Adorable.

"Want to try? I know a new game—connect five stones in a row to win. How about it?"

Little Ying Bing said nothing, but her small hands began clearing the black and white pieces from the board.

Seems the ice block had always been competitive...

Ying's mother was stunned. She had never seen her daughter show interest in anything before.

But what shocked her even more was what happened ten minutes later.

Her daughter, who had humbled even seasoned Go masters, actually lost!

Though this wasn’t Go, connecting five stones in a row was far simpler.

"Impressed?"

Little Li Mo radiated the same icy aura as his opponent.

Little Ying Bing narrowed her eyes slightly.

"The first player is guaranteed to win in this game."

"!"

Li Mo leaned back slightly.

He’d lost countless rounds before figuring that out himself. Truly terrifying—even as a child, the ice block was formidable!

"Jiejie, eat."

Little Ying Bing nodded reflexively and picked up her chopsticks.

Only after tasting the food did her beautiful eyes flicker with momentary confusion, as if she didn’t understand why she’d obeyed so naturally.

Ying's mother covered her mouth in astonishment.

Her daughter had always been cold, even more so after falling ill. She rarely showed emotion, even toward her parents.

Yet now...

"Auntie, can I take Bing Jiejie out for a walk later?"

Li Mo kept his tone neutral, but inwardly, he rejoiced.

Little Bing’s subconscious still remembered him.

It was working!

"Bing'er?" Ying's mother looked at her daughter searchingly, her voice trembling with excitement.

The girl hadn’t left the house in ages. At this rate, she’d fall ill from sheer isolation.

"Jiejie, take me out to play."

Little Li Mo spoke earnestly.

Truth be told, though he’d been a troublemaker in school, his delicate, doll-like features made even his serious expressions endearing.

"Mm..."

Little Ying Bing’s cheeks pinkened slightly as she answered in a near-whisper, then resumed eating in small bites.

After the meal, Li Mo was the first to step outside. The threshold was a bit high, so he gave a little hop.

Little Ying Bing set down her bowl and chopsticks. Under her mother’s encouraging gaze, she lifted the hem of her rose-red brocade skirt, preparing to step onto the threshold before jumping down—when a small hand appeared before her.

She looked up in surprise to find the boy bathed in courtyard sunlight, his smile bright and warm.

"Let’s go."

"Mm."

Little Ying Bing hesitated, her mind still processing, but her body had already responded.

By the time she realized it, her small hand was snugly enveloped in another, slightly larger one.

Ying's mother: "?"

She’d only taken a moment to clear the table—what had she missed now?

And since when did Bing'er quietly let another child hold her hand?!

The three returned to the lively clamor of the ancestral hall.

"Little sister actually came out?"

"Am I hallucinating? Or still asleep?"

"Ouch—if you’re asleep, why are you pinching me?!"

"And she’s being led out by another kid!"

"Isn’t that the Li boy?"

Though Little Bing was young, her seniority in the Ying family was high. Some of her peers already had children her age.

The Ying clansmen outside rubbed their eyes in disbelief. They’d all heard of this little sister’s reclusive nature.

Seeing her emerge now was rarer than New Year’s festivities.

"Husband, look."

"Hm?"

Ying Xuliang had been deep in conversation with a friend when he turned to see the two children walking hand in hand.

They looked like a pair of golden boys and jade girls.

It was good that his daughter had ventured outside.

But while people said daughters were their fathers’ little cotton-padded jackets, his was not only drafty—it was made of ice.

Counting on his fingers, she’d spoken fewer than ten words to him in three days. Worse, her razor-sharp intellect often made him feel intellectually outmatched.

Yet now she was letting another family’s boy lead her around, looking serene and obedient?

The old father’s heart was a mix of joy and inexplicable gloom.

"Uncle Ying, is something wrong?"

Little Li Mo stood before the couple, still holding Ying Bing’s hand.

For some reason, Ying Xuliang’s stare made him nervous.

"Nothing. Go play, but don’t wander too far."

"..."

Li Mo’s lips parted slightly as he surveyed the bustling ancestral hall, but in the end, he simply nodded.

Tonight, during the Ying family’s ancestral rites, everyone would die.

But what child would be believed if they spouted such ominous words during New Year’s? At best, he’d be chased out.

Besides.

This was a dream.