Junior Sister is skilled in subduing demons.

Chapter 194 Encountering a Blizzard
The blizzard struck suddenly in the afternoon.

Shen Anzhi wrapped her cloak tighter, but the chill had already seeped into her bones through the fabric's seams, making even channeling her spiritual energy difficult. She secretly glanced at Ge Wensong beside her; the young man's back was ramrod straight, his hand gripping the sword hilt as steady as a rock. For some reason, seeing him like this lessened her anxiety.

Ge Wensong, who was standing beside her, suddenly stopped and looked at the swirling snow mist in the distance with a furrowed brow: "Sister Anzhi, something's wrong with this snow." Before he finished speaking, a gust of wind suddenly rose, and the swirling snowflakes instantly blurred their vision.

Shen Anzhi staggered back half a step, and the snow under her feet suddenly loosened. She exclaimed in surprise, but Ge Wensong grabbed her wrist: "Follow me, don't let go!" His fingertips were a little rough, thin calluses from years of sword practice, but the rough touch made her feel extremely at ease at this moment.

The two huddled behind a protruding rock. The wind howled like a ferocious beast, whipping up snow walls as tall as two people, emitting a dull rumble that made their eardrums buzz.

Shen Anzhi had never seen such a terrifying sight. In the vast white world, heaven and earth seemed to be swallowed by the wind and snow. Only Ge Wensong's calm voice rang in her ears: "Don't be afraid. I learned how to deal with avalanches in Huangshan. First, find a stable shelter." His voice carried a hint of deliberate calmness, but she could feel him gripping her hand slightly.

She gazed at Ge Wensong's profile, its outline barely visible in the wind and snow, and watched the icicles clinging to the tips of his hair shimmer in the dim light. Suddenly, she recalled the scene by the campfire in Yading Village, where he stood in the firelight, handing her a baked flatbread, his ears as red as if singed by embers. At the time, she had dismissed it as youthful shyness, but now, she realized it concealed a subtle tenderness.

"Wen Song, look over there!" An Zhi suddenly pointed to the snow-capped peaks in the distance, his voice trembling with tension.

Ge Wensong followed her gaze, his pupils suddenly contracting. The snow on the mountaintop was visibly creeping and collapsing, rolling down like a giant white wave with the force of a thunderbolt. "Oh no, an avalanche!" he shouted, grabbing Anzhi and running towards the lower-lying snow valley. "Quick! Find a depression!"

The deafening roar of shattering ice and snow grew closer, like a stampede of horses, and the ground beneath her feet trembled violently. Icy snowflakes seeped into her collar, sliding down her neck and into her clothes, making Anzhi shiver involuntarily. Just then, a tremendous force struck from behind; Wen Song suddenly shoved her forward, but was himself thrown to the ground by the force.

"Wen Song!" An Zhi exclaimed, her heart clenching suddenly. She turned to pull him back, but the snowstorm crashed down like a high wall, instantly engulfing her. In the last moment before darkness fell, she only saw Ge Wen Song's outstretched hand, his eyes shining brightly in the wind and snow, filled with undisguised anxiety.

……

After an unknown amount of time, Shen Anzhi awoke with a violent cough. The biting cold made her body stiff, her eyelids felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, and every breath was painfully sharp with ice shards. She struggled to open her eyes and saw a dimly lit snow cave, the walls of which were slightly warmed by the campfire.

"Sister Anzhi! You're awake!" A surprised voice rang out from the side.

Ge Wensong leaned closer to her, his face covered in snowflakes, a raw wound on his forehead still unhealed. "Eat something quickly. You were buried in the snow for half an hour; it scared me to death," he said, his voice still slightly strained. Anzhi then noticed she was covered with two cloaks—one hers, the other, faintly scented with pine, belonged to Ge Wensong. His body heat still lingered on the cloaks, keeping the chill at bay. She moved her fingers, touching the palm of his hand that offered her the provisions; it was covered in newly formed calluses and tiny wounds.

"You..." Shen Anzhi's throat was dry, and his voice was so hoarse that it was almost inaudible: "You saved me?"

"Otherwise what?" Ge Wensong scratched his head, his ear tips turning red again, like maple leaves scorched by fire. "How could I leave you alone? Besides, if Sister Lingxuan knew I hadn't taken good care of you, she would definitely poke me with Emei daggers." He deliberately spoke lightly, but the lingering fear in his eyes was undeniable.

Ge Wensong spoke casually, but Anzhi recalled his outstretched hand before she was swept away by the snowstorm, and the anxiety in his eyes at that moment. A corner of her heart suddenly softened, like snow melting in the spring sunshine, warm water flowing out. She lowered her head and took a bite of dry rations. The warm wheat aroma mixed with a subtle sweetness spread on her tongue. He had specially heated it up, carefully blowing away even the crumbs.

"Thank you so much for just now," Anzhi said softly, her voice carrying a dependence she herself was unaware of.

Ge Wensong suddenly leaned closer, reaching out to brush the snowflakes from her hair. His fingertips brushed against her earlobe, bringing a slight tickle, like a feather gently scratching her heart. "Why are you thanking me? If you encounter danger in the future, just hide behind me, understand?"

Anzhi's heart skipped a beat, as if struck by something heavy. She looked up and met Ge Wensong's gaze—those eyes, always brimming with youthful spirit, were now devoid of their usual playfulness, filled only with earnest concern, and a hint of emotion she couldn't decipher, yet which made her cheeks burn.

The sound of wind and snow pounding against the snow cave seemed to have faded away, leaving only the soft crackling of the campfire and the gradually warming silence between the two. The air was filled with the sweet scent of burning pine resin and the faint aroma of cedar emanating from him, intertwining to create a reassuring atmosphere.

“Wen Song, you…” An Zhi was about to say something, but his throat felt blocked, and the words that were about to come out of his mouth suddenly became difficult to say.

He seemed to see through her embarrassment, suddenly looked away, stood up and added a piece of pine resin to the campfire. The firelight suddenly blazed up, illuminating his reddened ear tips: "The snow outside hasn't stopped yet, rest well first. When the snow subsides, I'll take you somewhere." He deliberately kept busy, but his slightly trembling fingertips betrayed his nervousness.

Watching his busy figure, Anzhi suddenly remembered the shyness that Kui Ran couldn't hide when she mentioned Kang Qing at Sanqing Mountain; she remembered the longing in Zi Lingxuan's voice when she talked about the swordsmen of Shu Mountain by the Five-Colored Pool. She suddenly understood that this feeling of feeling heartache when she saw him injured, blushing when she heard his gentle words, and her heart racing when she thought of his eyes must be... love.

She touched her burning cheeks, the warmth from her fingertips making her smile involuntarily. Outside the snow cave, the wind and snow continued, but her heart felt as if it were filled with sunshine, warm and cozy.