It had been snowing for several days in a row, covering the entire city of Bianjing in a vast expanse of white. From a distance, it looked like a city made of snow.
The weather was too cold, and it was still the festive season. Every household was celebrating the New Year, and even the peddlers and vendors who made a living through business had stopped working, intending to take advantage of the festival to rest at home for a while. The streets and alleys were deserted, with only those truly destitute, who had no food at home and no family to rely on, choosing to set up stalls on such a day.
But even they were few in number.
The streets were cold and empty, but the homes with their doors shut, red lanterns hanging, and upside-down “Fu” characters pasted were filled with warmth and liveliness.
Whether it was the noble families of officials or the common folk, on such a day of family reunion, they all sat together, munching on snacks, warming themselves by the fire, and chatting. As they talked, they inevitably brought up the most widely spread news in the city—
The heir’s wife from the Chengbo Manor, the eldest legitimate daughter of the Marquis of Changxing, was caught red-handed having an affair with a man at the Dali Temple in the outskirts of the city. She had already been repudiated by her husband, and it was said that she had been driven out of her husband’s house on New Year’s Eve. Her own family, thinking she had disgraced them, refused to take her back. No one knew where she was now.
At that moment, on a street in the western part of the city, a night watchman, wrapped in a tattered cotton coat, huddled in a wind-sheltered spot, talking about the incident with an old man selling roasted sweet potatoes. The old man found it hard to believe.
“That heir’s wife always seemed dignified and elegant before. How could she possibly have an affair in such a place? Could it be that people mistook what they saw?”
“How could they have mistaken it?”
The watchman took a bite of his roasted sweet potato as he spoke. The weather was too cold; the breath he exhaled turned into white mist, lingering in the air for a long time before dispersing. “I heard that day was an important day for Buddhist worship. Many wealthy families had gone to the Dali Temple, and numerous people saw it with their own eyes. Such prominent families care the most about their reputation—if it had been a misunderstanding, they would have clarified it long ago. Besides, I personally saw that former heir’s wife being thrown out of the house.”
“This…”
The old man still found it unbelievable. He hesitated and said, “I’ve seen the heir of the Chengbo Manor before. Not only does he have striking sword-like brows and starry eyes, but he is also one of the emperor’s personal guards. He is considered one of the outstanding young men of his generation. Why would the heir’s wife be so foolish as to abandon such a husband and go have an affair?”
“You don’t know, do you? The man she had an affair with is also quite the important figure.”
“Who?”
The watchman glanced at him. “Do you remember the top scholar from the ninth year of Jingde?”
“It was him?”
The old man exclaimed in shock, clicking his tongue. “If it was that esteemed gentleman, then it truly is hard to say who stands higher.”
One was the heir of a noble residence and an imperial guard, while the other, despite being of humble origins, was a distinguished scholar. At the age of nineteen, he had consecutively ranked first in all three levels of the imperial examination, then went on to solve numerous strange cases at the Court of Judicial Review. In less than five years since entering officialdom, he had already become the Minister of the Court of Judicial Review. It was said that the current Chief Ministers held him in high regard, and even the emperor looked upon him favorably. The rumors circulating in the city claimed that if nothing unexpected happened, Lord Qi would soon be promoted to the Executive Council.
“But with what’s happened now, can Lord Qi still rise in rank?”
The old man suddenly thought of this question.
Upon hearing it, the watchman also fell into silence.
Lord Qi was not only an idol to aspiring scholars from humble backgrounds but also a figure of admiration for common folks like them. Most officials either did nothing or only knew how to exploit the people’s wealth. A rare, upright official like Lord Qi, who protected and benefited the people, was someone they naturally hoped would rise higher and go further—so that they could have better lives.
But now, with this incident—
“Forget about promotion. I heard that for the past few days, those scholars from humble backgrounds have been cursing outside Lord Qi’s residence, and the censors at court have submitted countless memorials against him. Lord Qi is probably—”
“Cough, cough.”
The quiet street was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a woman coughing.
The watchman and the old man both looked up and saw that, at some point, a horse-drawn carriage had appeared on the thick snow-covered road. The coughing came from inside the carriage, sounding weak, accompanied by the careful murmurs of a maid attending to her.
“At this hour, why is there still a carriage on the road?”
The watchman watched the carriage disappear into the distance, his eyes filled with curiosity.
The old man also glanced at it and sighed, “It’s probably someone with nowhere to go.” He shook his head, watching as the green cloth curtain fluttered in the wind before the carriage quickly disappeared into the alley. Only then did he withdraw his gaze and look at the watchman. “Go on, what will happen to Lord Qi in the future?”
…
“In a while, take my letter and seek out Grand Preceptor Qin. Ask him to help look after Lord Qi.”
Inside the carriage, Gu Lanyin, wrapped in a fox fur coat, instructed her senior maid, Shi Yu. “Although Grand Preceptor Qin is no longer in charge of affairs, he still holds the rank of one of the Three Excellencies and has some influence before His Majesty. If he steps in, he should at least be able to protect him.”
Her body was too weak—she had barely spoken a few words before she started coughing again.
Shi Yu was worried about her health and cared for nothing else. With reddened eyes, she choked up, “You still have the heart to care about others? I already told you, I will take care of those two myself. Why must you personally make this trip?”
“Be obedient. This is something I owe him.”
“He was dragged into this conspiracy because of me, misunderstood, and lost a bright future. How can I just sit by and do nothing?” Gu Lanyin held a brocade handkerchief to her red lips and coughed for a while before finally raising her head. The ram’s horn lantern hanging on the carriage wall cast a faint, flickering glow, illuminating her face hidden within the hood.
She was not a striking beauty, yet she had the kind of face that, once seen, was hard to forget—her features were cool and refined, like a solitary lotus blooming in a moonlit pond, admiring its own reflection. From the inside out, she exuded an air of detachment. Even now, with a slight flush on her cheeks from coughing and a faint mist in her eyes, she remained composed and distant. Her deep, black eyes held no trace of excess emotion.
Shi Yu bit her lip as she looked at her. “…I understand, Mistress.”
Gu Lanyin did not speak further on the matter. She simply lifted the carriage curtain to take a look outside, but Shi Yu immediately pressed her hand down. “The wind is strong outside. Allow me to check instead.”
Gu Lanyin smiled faintly and did not insist. She leaned back against the cushion behind her, pulling her fox fur cloak tighter around her body. Seeing how swiftly Shi Yu had closed the curtain again before even a breeze could sneak in, she couldn’t help but chuckle. “Where are we now?”
Shi Yu turned back and replied, “We’ve entered the alley. In about the time it takes to steep a cup of tea, we’ll arrive.”
Gu Lanyin nodded and closed her eyes again, intending to rest a little.
She was too exhausted.
Ever since that incident at the Dali Temple, she had not had a single good night’s sleep. At first, she had stayed awake anxiously trying to explain herself. Later, she stopped trying but fell ill and still could not sleep well. She had spent countless nights tossing and turning. Now, in this swaying and jolting carriage, listening to the occasional sound of firecrackers outside, she finally began to feel a bit drowsy.
“Mistress.”
Shi Yu’s voice sounded beside her ear.
Gu Lanyin drowsily opened her eyes and glanced at the still and silent carriage curtain. Her voice was hoarse as she asked, “Are we there?”
“Yes.” Shi Yu was still worried about her health and suggested, “Why don’t you rest here? Everything has already been arranged, and I can go inside on your behalf.”
She really did not want her mistress’s eyes to be tainted by such filth and vile people.
Gu Lanyin shook her head.
Shi Yu knew her temperament and said no more. She stepped forward and helped her mistress down from the carriage, supporting her foot onto the mounting stool.
The carriage had stopped in front of a civilian residence. Compared to the liveliness along the way, this place was utterly desolate. Darkness shrouded the surroundings, giving the impression that no one lived there.
Shi Yu stepped up and knocked on the door—three long knocks followed by two short ones. Soon, someone opened it from the inside. A man dressed in a black combat outfit stood behind the door. Upon seeing them, he immediately cupped his hands in greeting. “Mistress.”
He stepped aside. “The person is inside.”
Gu Lanyin looked at him and spoke warmly, “You’ve worked hard this time.”
Song Yue hurriedly bowed and said, “I dare not take credit. The old madam once entrusted us to protect your safety, yet you fell into the schemes of villains and ended up in this state. It is our failure to protect you!”
At the mention of her maternal grandmother, Gu Lanyin suddenly fell silent.
If her maternal grandmother were still alive, she would never have fallen to such a state. No matter what, her grandmother would have believed her and never allowed such filthy accusations to be thrown upon her.
She would not have been left without a home.
Shi Yu always said her mother was heartless. The Xiao family was one thing, but her mother—her own birth mother—chose to believe the words of outsiders, refusing to let her return home and forbidding anyone in the family from looking for her. As a result, even now, during the New Year festival, she had nowhere to go.
She had nothing to say about it.
Her relationship with her mother had never been good since the year Gu Qing went missing when she was six years old. Over the years, because of Gu Qing and Xiao Ye, they had quarreled countless times. She had cried, felt hurt, and endured endless frustration, but so many years had passed. No matter how much pain she felt, it should have faded by now.
To her, her mother was barely more than a stranger. And as for that household, she had never intended to return in the first place.
The northern wind howled, slapping against her body.
The white fox fur trim on her hood was tousled by the wind, tufts of it floating in the air. Gu Lanyin suppressed the emotions in her heart and spoke to Song Yue, “There’s a saying—‘A thief may steal for a thousand days, but no guard can defend for a thousand days.’ If someone has set their sights on me, no matter how well you protect me, they will always find an opportunity to strike.”
Seeing that Song Yue was about to speak again, she raised her hand. “Enough. Stand guard outside. I’m going in to take a look.”
“Yes!”
Shi Yu supported her as they walked forward.
Before they even got close, they could hear muffled sobbing and cursing from inside.
This place was known as Ghost Alley, infamous in the city. Let alone now, during the festive season—even on normal days, few dared to come here.
The moment the door was pushed open, the noise inside suddenly ceased. But after a brief silence, a voice shrieked,
“Who’s there? Who’s pretending to be a ghost outside? Do you know who I am? I am a princess of Liao! How dare you tie me up!”
No matter how well she tried to conceal it, Gu Lanyin could still hear the tremor in her voice—
That was fear. Terror.
Gone was her former arrogance.
Gu Lanyin had no interest in playing ghostly tricks. As soon as the door was opened, she stepped inside.
Two or three candles were lit in the room, making it relatively bright. But as the wind blew, the candle flames flickered, casting shadows that made the room feel dim and eerie. The howling wind outside, the rustling of dry leaves—everything added to the ghostly legend surrounding this place.
As soon as Gu Lanyin entered, she heard suppressed sobbing.
She didn’t need to look to know it was her twin sister, Gu Qing.
Gu Qing was still the same—timid to the core. She didn’t even dare to scream or threaten. No matter how terrified she was, she could only sob quietly.
Gu Lanyin glanced in her direction.
Her subordinates must have truly despised her. They had shown no mercy, tying her tightly to a wooden pillar with no room to struggle.