The first person Leah saw when she woke up was Delphine. Back then, Delphine was called Little Dumpling, a name given by Griffith Squire. He said it was a name he came up with when he rescued her from a group of human traffickers; she looked so obedient and mute, so he casually gave her that name.

The climate in the Golden Triangle is truly punishing, both hot and dry with lots of mosquitoes. Leah, being seriously injured, felt like her back was covered in heat rash. Whenever she tried to turn over to scratch, little Delphine would pale, shaking her head nervously.

In fact, she didn’t even have the strength to turn over. She remembered many things, like Griffith Squire being her brother, this place being the Golden Triangle, and that it seemed like her first time here. She was clear on common sense questions, even remembering what she liked and disliked, but she had completely forgotten her previous life.

Griffith Squire said she was bombed into a stupor, affecting her intelligence, and advised her to stop overthinking, just lay back and focus on recovery.

To this handsome but wicked, sharp-tongued, and brutal brother, Leah only wanted to say, destined for solitude.

"Little Dumpling, there’s a mosquito biting me." Leah blinked her beautiful almond eyes, looking at the girl daydreaming by the window of the small wooden cabin, wanting to act spoiled.

This is deep in the jungle, with a small village nearby, peaceful and secluded. Griffith Squire left a team to protect her, leaving only Little Dumpling and a middle-aged woman who cooked. Leah couldn’t understand what the woman said, so she tried every way to talk to Little Dumpling daily.

The girl sitting on the ground by the window, daydreaming at the shadows of the dense trees outside, shivered, then quickly got up, found some mosquito repellent, and sprinkled it around the bed. Then she lit a circle of mosquito coils, frowning at the old-fashioned anti-mosquito measures. The living conditions here were really poor, not at all like South Asia. Had Leah been recovering in South Asia, she might have been up and about by now.

"Delphine, my name is Delphine Carter." Delphine hoarsely stated her name, fearing she was hot, fetched a wet towel, and wiped Leah’s face and limbs.

"There is a flavor in the world that is Delphine. Little Delphine, what flavor are you?" Leah looked at her palm-sized small face, strikingly white, with delicate features, but she was too thin, expressionless, and without much emotion. She seemed about her age, but Leah felt Little Delphine had experienced even more.

"Bitter, probably bitter," Delphine thought, stuttering slightly.

Upon hearing this, Leah couldn’t help but chuckle, then pulled at her wound, causing tears to spring from her eyes due to the pain.

"Don’t laugh, it’ll hurt." Seeing her lips pale from pain, Delphine quickly said seriously, Leah’s body was too fragile, a slight touch hurt, let alone a laugh that tugged at her insides.

Leah’s forehead was sweating from the pain; this shattered body didn’t feel like her own. Moving even a little caused piercing pain. Griffith Squire never told her which bastards bombed her. She was clearly an innocent civilian, probably caught in the crossfire when Griffith Squire was hunted by enemies. It must be that, damn those scoundrels.

"Tell me a story, or I’ll be in pain." Leah said weakly.

"Once there was a little girl living in a small town, depending on each other with her grandmother. One day, after her grandmother passed away, her mother took her to a big city, where she lived in a red house." Delphine wasn’t good at storytelling; seeing Leah about to faint from pain, she hurriedly said, "That red house was like a beast, devouring people, then one day it swallowed the little girl whole."

As she spoke, her eyes reddened; she had been swallowed by that red house.

Leah was stunned, thinking this storytelling ability was really at preschool level. Yet, seeing Delphine nearly crying, Leah opened her mouth resignedly, "Then did the little girl get spat out into the deep jungle?"

Delphine paused, then gently smiled and nodded, "Swallowed, but she didn’t die."

Leah: "..."

After a while, the two of them, one too injured to move, the other emotionally scarred into isolation, exchanged a smile, forming a deep revolutionary friendship in this God-forsaken corner afflicted with mosquito bites.

*

The night grew deeper, and snow softly fell, tapping against the window. Snowflakes drifted in through the half-open window, waking the man from a dream. He sat up, looking at a world turned white.

It’s snowing. Northern snow always arrives so unexpectedly.

The man got up, moved to his wheelchair, pressed the remote, and left the room, sitting in the courtyard under the eaves, watching the snow falling softly.

In his dream, he saw eight-year-old Crystal Landon, with neatly cut bangs and big, bright eyes, sweetly following behind him, calling out, "Little Richard, when I grow up, can I marry you?"

The thirteen-year-old’s earlobes flushed slightly; he didn’t dare to look at her pretty face, admonishing with some annoyance, "You’re too young to know what marriage is!"

The little girl pouted her cherry lips, coquettishly saying, "Of course I know, all the boys in our class say they’ll marry me when they grow up. I only want to marry you, okay?"

The boy ran off like a shot and didn’t come home from boarding school for a month after that.

The man sat under the eaves, snow gradually covering his shoulders until dawn.

Early the next morning, Shuangzi came to clear the snow with tools. Seeing the Major General sitting under the eaves, covered in snow, his face cold and pale, Shuangzi’s expression changed suddenly. He quickly and anxiously brushed the snow off the man’s shoulders and body. Feeling the man radiating cold, not knowing how long he had been sitting in the snow, Shuangzi pushed the wheelchair inside and hurriedly started a fire in the stove.

"Major General, news just came from the Southwest Military Zone. Things aren’t peaceful in the Golden Triangle. The territory of Shiva was ambushed, in his rage, he led a bloodbath on the Western temporary alliance warlords. Now both sides are hurt." Shuangzi dared not mention the Major General sitting in the snow, only reporting the important military affairs.

Richard Shaw remained silent.

"Major General, how about returning to the Shaw Mansion for this year’s New Year? The young master can now call for dad. Soon he should be able to walk."

The man still said nothing.

Shuangzi lit the stove, moved it beside him, reluctantly said, "Isn’t it time to arrange the madam’s funeral?"

Months had passed, and the deceased soldiers were honored as martyrs and buried, yet the Major General acted like he forgot about the madam’s matter; his mother also couldn’t bring it up. But it couldn’t remain unaddressed.

Richard Shaw’s tall frame trembled slightly, after a long time, he spoke in a hoarse, dry voice, "Let’s do it on a snowy day; she liked snowy days."