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Qin Zhao was once a craft-register painter, trampled into the dirt. Cool and reserved, she carried a copper-clad angle ruler at her waist, using it to measure mountains and rivers, as well as the lines no one should cross between people.
Ten years ago, during the Battle of Yanhuigorge, her father was executed for "mistranscribing a military map," held responsible for the deaths of thirty thousand men. She struck out her real name and went into hiding at the Directorate of Works, determined to find out exactly which part of that map had been wrong.
Gu Wujiao is the notorious Marquis of Jingning, a border-army commander who clawed his way out of a pile of corpses. Lazy in manner and ruthless in action, he is considered unfathomable by everyone in the capital. No one knows that he has hidden the survivors and old comrades who lived through ten years of blizzards along his own escape route.
A missing-person murder tied to an old case binds together two people who should never have stood side by side. Qin Zhao thinks theirs is merely an alliance of convenience, one that could fall apart at any moment. So she guards against him, calculates his every move, and measures every escape route with meticulous care.
Until a cold arrow cuts through a dark alley, sharp iron drops beneath a carriage, and a burning roof beam crashes down. The marquis, who always draws out his words with careless ease, shields her with his own body time and time again, even placing his last escape route in her hands.
She thinks he is protecting his investigative partner, not knowing that she is the only light he has guarded through ten years of blizzards.
[Bonus Scene]
Late at night, the old Yongding post station collapses in a fire, and the two barely escape with their lives.
Qin Zhao bears the piercing ring in her ears and slowly cuts away the charred silk stuck to the flesh of Gu Wujiao's arm.
"Next time, don't shield me. I can dodge." Her voice remains steady.
Gu Wujiao lowers his eyes to her fingertips, trembling slightly from exhaustion, and gives a quiet laugh.
"Painter Qin's hands are meant to redraw the mountains and rivers. These hands of mine have been caked in mud for ages. Taking one hit for you is a bargain."
He raises his bloodied hand and pulls her into his arms, taking the initiative. In the dim firelight, the possessiveness he has always kept buried deep in his eyes finally shows its edge. "Since I've already taken a blow for you, Painter Qin, could you make a place for me in your rules?"
Theme: The truth should not be decided by those in power
