Chapter 1: Prologue

The night was deep, and Changchun Street was cold and desolate. Only the red lanterns hanging under the eaves of a few shops emitted a faint glow, adding a touch of warmth to the snow piled on the rooftops and roadsides.

Wen Hao, dressed in black, walked lightly along the bluestone path where the snow had yet to melt. She walked and stopped, looking around cautiously, before turning into a small alley beside a cosmetics shop.

The alley was narrow, long, and deep, quiet enough to make one’s heart palpitate.

Wen Hao stopped in front of a private residence and knocked gently on the door.

The door was pulled open the moment she knocked.

The woman inside had an anxious look in her eyes; she grabbed Wen Hao by the wrist and pulled her in.

As soon as they were inside, the woman knelt and threw herself at Wen Hao, sobbing uncontrollably: "Second Miss, this servant never imagined you were still alive!"

Wen Hao’s eyelashes trembled. She patted the woman’s shoulder gently and pulled a folded piece of paper from her sleeve, handing it over.

The woman stood up, took the paper with trembling hands, and opened it to read the words by the candlelight: Lianxiang, how did my eldest sister die?

Seeing these words, tears welled up in Lianxiang’s eyes again: "Second Miss, our young lady, she—"

Wen Hao bit her lip to suppress the urgency in her heart, her slender finger poking firmly at the question.

Everyone in this circle in the capital knew that the Second Miss of the Wen family, of the Vice Minister’s manor, had been born a mute.

Lianxiang hurriedly wiped her tears and began to speak.

"That day, the son-in-law took the young lady out and didn't return until evening. Once the young lady entered the inner chamber, she never stepped out again. In the middle of the night, Xiao He got up and discovered that the young lady had hanged herself... Xiao He had accompanied the young lady out during the day. This servant pressed her to explain what happened, and Xiao He said—"

Wen Hao stared fixedly at Lianxiang, waiting for her to continue.

Lianxiang’s face turned deathly pale. She took a deep breath and struggled to spit out the rest: "Xiao He said... the young lady might have been molested by another man..."

Wen Hao braced her hands against the tabletop, taking a long moment to suppress the overwhelming rage. She pointed at the paper, then at her own mouth.

Lianxiang understood, but there was no paper or pen in the house. A sudden idea struck her, and she fetched a box of lip rouge.

Wen Hao dipped her fingertip into the rouge and wrote directly on the table: "Who?"

Lianxiang shook her head, her voice choked with sobs: "Xiao He didn't know who it was, nor did she see the man's face. She only felt from the son-in-law's words and behavior that the man's status was extraordinary... After the news of the young lady's suicide spread, Xiao He followed her mistress in death before dawn. This servant knew Xiao He had been silenced, so I took advantage of the chaos to escape the Earl's manor, and have lived under an assumed name on Changchun Street ever since..."

Wen Hao’s chest heaved, anger burning within her.

Three years ago, she had escaped the tiger's den of the Wen manor precisely because she had sensed the filthy schemes of her father and stepmother. She had not expected that her eldest sister, who had already married, would suffer a similar fate.

"By the way, Second Miss, three years ago, the Wen manor sent word that you had died of illness. How are you—"

Wen Hao dipped her finger in the rouge and continued to write: "Someone harmed me, and I escaped..."

Lianxiang covered her face and wept: "The young lady was pregnant at the time. After receiving the letter, she couldn't return, and later, in her grief, she suffered a miscarriage. At first, the son-in-law was somewhat considerate, but as time passed, he grew cold toward her..."

Wen Hao listened to Lianxiang without moving, until the candle on the stand was covered in wax tears.

"Second Miss, where are you going? Why not stay and live with me? Let me serve you from now on." Lianxiang chased her to the courtyard gate.

Wen Hao shook her head. Unable to speak, she offered no explanation, gently pushed the door open, and walked out.

The cold wind rushed at her, mixed with fine particles of snow.

It had started snowing again.

She turned back and waved, signaling for Lianxiang to close the door and go inside, then hurried away from the alley.

The wind was stronger outside the alley, cutting her cheeks like a knife. Wen Hao didn't notice, walking quickly in one direction.

The wind whistled in her ears, the extreme cold numbing her senses. When she tried her best to dodge to one side, a flying dagger had already buried itself in her back.

Wen Hao turned her head to look in a hurry.

In the wind and snow, a figure with an indistinct face gradually approached.

Wen Hao didn't have time to look closely; she stumbled forward.

She had escaped back to the capital; there was still too much to do. She absolutely could not die here.

But then, Wen Hao stopped abruptly.

A man wearing a black mask came toward her, his long blade gleaming with cold light in the snow.

Wolves in front, tigers behind.

Wen Hao took a step back, then stopped, raising her dagger to stab at the masked man.

Since she couldn't escape, taking one down with her would be enough.

The smell of blood surrounded her as she fell into an embrace.

The masked man hugged Wen Hao tightly as they fell to the ground, a flying dagger burying itself in his back.

Wen Hao opened her mouth, her thoughts frozen for a moment.

The man who had been attacking her from the front—why did he block the blade for her?

But she had no time to figure it out.

As the masked man struggled to pull her up, the person from behind had already reached them.

A long sword descended, piercing the masked man’s heart, and then piercing Wen Hao’s.

Hot blood spread across the snow, like large, blooming red plum blossoms; it was impossible to tell whose was whose.

Wen Hao used all her strength to keep her eyes open, wanting to see the person who had fallen on her.

He wore a black mask, revealing only his eyes.

They were a pair of very beautiful eyes.

Who are you...

Before falling into darkness, Wen Hao’s lips moved, silently uttering the question.

The sound of commotion came from somewhere, growing closer and closer.

The snowflakes grew larger, soon covering the two who lay quietly in the pool of blood on the snow.

Meeting everyone again. The new book is another light and happy little story. I hope I write it happily, and that everyone enjoys reading it. For those who feel it isn't to their taste, you can check out other books; this is meant to be a pastime, and having a good mood is what matters most. Then, let's begin Ah Hao's story.

(End of chapter)