It's the coldest day of the year, and Luo Binghe sits in his shed, crying. The beating that day had hurt a lot more than usual. He stops his crying and scrambles quickly to his feet when he hears the door open. However, it's not who he's expecting... Instead of Shen Qingqiu, it's Shang Qinghua...

Binghe: "... Shang-Shishu?"

Qinghua: "Oh... Luo-Shizhi... Please don't tell your Shizun I'm here... I really shouldn't be doing this, but it's so cold, and the only firewood at An Ding goes to the kids first, and there's not enough even for just them... Just don't tell him I'm here, please...?"

Binghe studies his martial uncle's face. It's tired and pale, and he takes note of the way that his Shishu's hands shake. There's a lot of food shoved in his pockets, and Binghe suddenly sees himself reflected in his Shishu. He makes up his mind; he's going to help Shang Qinghua, no matter what his Shizun says...

Binghe: "I'll help, Shishu, as long as you share some of your food with me, and you let me sit with you for a bit once you light the fire."

Neither of them have been properly warm or have eaten in days...

Qinghua: "You'd really... Alright, Can you help me carry some stuff to An Ding? Someone keeps stealing all the firewood and food from An Ding, and after it happens, everywhere else suddenly has surplus food..."