The harsh cold of the Great Zhou border was accompanied by howling winds, starving people, and a landscape littered with bones and corpses.
The fortress city built in this desolate place was heavily blanketed by thick snow, presenting a bleak and eerie sight. The city gates stood wide open, with no soldiers guarding them.
Half a month ago, the barbarians had suddenly launched a massive invasion, catching the fortress city off guard and forcing it into a hasty retreat.
General Jiang, who was in charge of defending the city, fiercely resisted for ten days. When the city finally fell and he was captured, the barbarians demanded that he curse the Great Zhou.
They promised to show mercy and spare his life if he did.
General Jiang, preferring death over dishonor, chose to die by ramming his head against the city wall. With tears in his eyes, he looked at the heaps of fallen soldiers and shouted, “Though my body dies, my spirit will remain. As a ghost, I will be a hero.”
In the end, his head was cut off and hung on the city wall. The barbarians, now unchecked, wantonly slaughtered half of the city’s population.
It was said that even the snow had turned red with blood.
At this moment, He Sui’an stood in bewilderment, unsure of which direction to take.
She had opened her eyes to find herself here.
It seemed as though He Sui’an had lost her memory; she could not remember why she had come to the fortress city.
Strangely, she only remembered her name and age. Beyond that, she had no recollection—where she came from, whether she had any family—none of it rang a bell.
It hurt.
He Sui’an slowly realized that her head was injured, with congealed blood on her forehead and the back of her head.
Who had hit her?
The wound didn’t seem like it was from a mere beating; it looked like an attempt to kill her.
He Sui’an looked around in terror. The wind, carrying snow, kept blowing in, making her exposed skin ache with cold.
She dared not linger at the city gate any longer. Rubbing her hands together, she tightened her thin clothes around her body and tucked her neck into the collar, hoping to keep warm.
Should she enter the city?
Just before stepping through the gate, He Sui’an involuntarily looked up at the head still hanging on the city wall.
Why was there a head hanging there?
The rope, eroded by wind and snow over many days, suddenly snapped, and the head unexpectedly rolled to the ground.
He Sui’an jumped in fright.
An old man, hunched and in tattered clothes, limped by. Seeing the head, he seemed intent on picking it up.
She saw someone and walked over.
The old man, noticing that He Sui’an didn’t look like a local and had been frightened by the head, explained that it belonged to General Jiang, the defender of the fortress city.
When it was hanging, no one dared to take it down.
Now that it had fallen, no one dared to pick it up.
The barbarians who had breached the fortress city plundered the food and gold before returning to the grasslands. They believed it was unsafe to stay in the city and feared that the Great Zhou would send reinforcements, so they didn’t occupy the city.
However, before leaving, the barbarians warned the city’s inhabitants not to bury General Jiang’s body.
The surviving citizens of the fortress city were too afraid to properly bury General Jiang’s head, fearing the barbarians might return and bring trouble upon themselves.
He Sui’an understood.
This head belonged to the general who had defended the city, a loyal and righteous man who had given his life in its defense.
Though she was still afraid of the severed head, she felt a growing respect for him. The head had been hanging for days and had been frozen by the snow, now only faintly smelling of blood.
“Little girl.”
the old man’s voice rang out through the snow.
He Sui’an turned to look, her face reddened by the cold, with her nose equally red.
He sincerely asked, “Would you be willing to help me bury General Jiang’s head? I’m just an old man, too frail to do it alone.”
Burying the head required digging a hole.
The old man had been bedridden recently, and today, with a brief burst of strength, he came directly to the city gate, but he was still weak.
He bent down with difficulty, picking up the head with both hands. He was already half-buried in the ground himself and figured it was worth the risk to prevent General Jiang from being dishonored.
He Sui’an didn’t think the old man was deceiving her.
His frail appearance showed he could barely lift anything heavy.
She agreed.
The old man asked He Sui’an to hold the head for now while he went to borrow some tools for digging. He intended to bury the head in an empty area beside the city gate.
After speaking, the old man went to find someone to borrow tools from.
He Sui’an took out a piece of cloth from her bundle, which had been with her when she woke up. Wrapping the head in the cloth, she held it tightly, her heart pounding with fear.
After all, she was just an ordinary person.
The old man quickly borrowed the tools, and together, they buried General Jiang’s head.
The old man thanked He Sui’an profusely before leaving. He was a wanderer who once considered the fortress city his home but had no place to shelter her.
Thus, she had to find a place to stay on her own.
There were no pedestrians on the streets.
Those who were able had fled the fortress city; those who couldn’t had no choice but to remain.
The freezing cold left them with nowhere to go.
Given that the fortress city was on the border, it would take a fast horse five days to reach the nearest city, Jin.
The city’s inhabitants lived in constant fear, knowing the chances of freezing to death on the road were high. They hoped to survive one day at a time, praying for the court to send someone to rescue them from their plight.
But as days passed, the number of deaths only increased, turning the city into a white hell.
The streets were almost empty.
He Sui’an caught a few snowflakes with one hand as she walked forward without stopping.
Broken lanterns lay in front of closed shops, giving an air of abandonment.
Buildings damaged by the barbarians had not been repaired, with splintered wood strewn chaotically on the ground, ignored by all.
Looking around, it seemed no shops were open. He Sui’an’s hope of having a hot cup of tea seemed futile.
She tried knocking on doors one by one.
In the freezing cold, spending the night outside would either freeze her to death or leave her severely ill.
After knocking on several doors without response, she saw signs of cooking smoke from two houses, indicating someone lived there.
The city’s residents, having recently endured the barbarians’ massacre, were too frightened to open their doors to strangers.
Just as she was about to give up, a door of an inn across the street quietly opened.
“Little girl.”
Someone called out to her.
He Sui’an turned around in surprise. The person inside the inn widened the crack in the door; it was an elderly woman, cautiously checking for any danger outside. “Little girl, come over here.”
Finally, someone was willing to take her in.
He Sui’an’s eyes welled up with tears.
Afraid of misunderstanding, she wanted a definite answer and carefully asked, “Are you willing to let me stay here tonight?”
The elderly woman opened the door wider and let He Sui’an in. “Yes, it’s freezing out here. A young girl like you would either be taken by wild wolves or freeze to death out there.”
“Thank you, Grandmother.”
He Sui’an shook off the snow from her clothes before stepping inside.
After she entered, the old woman closed the door securely, bolting it, and slowly walked over to the stove burning charcoal. She bent down with difficulty to push it towards He Sui’an. “I’ll get you a bowl of hot porridge.”
The stove radiated warmth, melting the remaining snow on He Sui’an’s clothes. She wiped herself with a handkerchief and took a moment to observe the inn.
The wooden tables and chairs were chipped and peeling, the windows and doors tightly shut, and the floor had stains of blood that couldn’t be scrubbed away.
The bloodstains had been there for some time.
The bottom step of the staircase leading to the second floor was broken. From where He Sui’an sat, she could see the railing and the doorways of several rooms upstairs.
The charcoal fire crackled in the stove. She reached out to warm her hands, feeling a sudden urge to cry.
She had lost her memory and had no familiar faces around her.
Half an hour later.
The old woman brought over a bowl of porridge. It was very watery with little rice, and there was a hard, dry bun. “There isn’t much to eat, young girl. You’ll have to make do with this.”
He Sui’an accepted it with both hands. “Thank you, Grandmother.”
“Why are you alone in the fortress city?” The old woman had noticed she wasn’t a local.
“I don’t remember.”
He Sui’an’s head buzzed with hunger as she gulped down half the bowl of porridge. It was so thin that it was mostly water with a few grains of rice, requiring no chewing. After finishing the porridge, she felt much warmer.
“I opened my eyes and found myself at the city gate, remembering nothing.”
The old woman’s gaze fell on the injury on He Sui’an’s head, guessing what might have happened. She sighed deeply. “Poor child…”
He Sui’an bit into the hard bun.
She asked casually, “Grandmother, do you live here alone?”
The old woman’s eyes silently filled with tears. “Half a month ago, the barbarians suddenly attacked the fortress city. My son fought alongside General Jiang, and in the end…” She couldn’t continue, “He was a good boy too.”
The barbarians had attacked the fortress city half a month ago, fighting for ten days before breaking through. It had only been five days since the city fell, but to them, it felt much longer.
As they were talking, the sound of horse hooves came from the street.
This was clearly not a good sign, and the old woman’s face changed immediately.
She hurriedly extinguished the stove, fearing the smoke might seep through the door cracks and reveal that someone was inside the inn. She whispered urgently to He Sui’an, “Young girl, go upstairs and hide. Don’t let anyone find you.”
He Sui’an asked, “What’s happening, Grandmother?”
The old woman kept glancing at the locked door.
Her voice was filled with helplessness. “No, it must be those bandits taking advantage of the chaos. These people are as bad as the barbarians. After the city fell, they often sneaked in, robbing and killing.”
“People who survived the barbarians were killed by them instead.”
The old woman pushed He Sui’an upstairs. “Unless I call for you, do not come down.”
At that moment, someone kicked the inn’s door open, breaking the lock. Hearing the commotion downstairs, He Sui’an pulled the old woman back. “You stay upstairs. I’ll go down.”
A voice yelled from below, “I know someone is in there. If you’re smart, come out now, or we’ll burn this inn down.”
He Sui’an understood.
When the old woman cooked the porridge earlier, some smoke must have escaped through the roof.
“Don’t worry. As long as I don’t provoke them, they won’t bother killing an old woman like me.” The old woman pushed He Sui’an’s hand away and hurried down the stairs, holding the railing for support.
The bandits, having broken the door, let the cold air rush in, dispelling what little warmth was left in the inn. They sat down carelessly, brandishing their swords.
The old woman, trembling, walked up to them.
She earnestly explained that the inn had been ransacked by the barbarians recently and now had neither food nor gold. She pleaded for their mercy.
The bandits, impatient, slashed a table with a sword. “Old hag, stop wasting time and get us something to eat, or we’ll kill you with one strike.”
Their swords still had traces of blood on them, indicating they had already killed.
She hurriedly agreed and prepared to get some food.
Before the old woman could leave, one of the bandits, still wary, looked up at the second floor. “Is there anyone else alive in this inn besides you?”
“No.”
The bandit snorted and attempted to go upstairs. The old woman tried to block them. “Sirs, there’s really no one up there.”
They ignored her and insisted on going up.
Pushed to the ground, the old woman faced a drawn sword. The bandit intended to kill her.
The blade touched her neck, drawing blood.
Just as they were about to strike, a girl, seemingly in her teens, appeared on the stairs. She wore an orange long dress, wrapped in a not-too-thick winter coat, her cheeks slightly red.
Her hair was styled in butterfly buns, tied with bright-colored ribbons, the ends mingling with her dark hair, making her fair skin stand out. Her eyes shone, reflecting the light like a mirror.
“Grandmother.”
He Sui’an shouted.
The bandits temporarily relaxed their grip on the sword.
The old woman, not wanting He Sui’an to get hurt, tried to shield her but was stopped by the bandits. “Little girl, why did you come out!”
Even though He Sui’an was timid, she couldn’t stand idly by and watch the old woman die in front of her.
The bandits pressed the bloodstained long sword against her pale neck.
The cold blade made He Sui’an shiver.
The bandit squinted at her. “So this old hag didn’t want us to go upstairs because she was hiding someone…”
Before he could finish speaking, they noticed another person upstairs. “And who are you?”
He Sui’an looked up as well.
A young man slowly descended the creaky old stairs.
He Sui’an was surprised by his appearance, as she hadn’t seen him upstairs earlier.
The young man was tall, with long black hair braided into several strands mixed with loose hair. Small bells and delicate silver ornaments hung from the ends of his braids, jingling as they swayed behind his slender waist.
His clothes were different from theirs.
Distinctly unique.
He wore indigo attire with intricate and complex embroidery. On closer inspection, the patterns appeared twisted. A blue-green sash cinched his waist, also adorned with bells.
His long boots were wrapped with a string of silver ornaments, coiling around like snakes.
He Sui’an’s gaze settled on his face.
A face so beautiful it was hard to tell if he was male or female.
Standing on the stairs, he looked down at them, his lips curling into a smile. “You’re too noisy.”
He Sui’an’s eyes moved downwards.
At the young man’s feet was a red snake, flicking its tongue, giving an impression of being both slimy and cold. She could also see scorpions and centipedes emerging from his wrist guards.
