IN THE DEPTHS OF WINTER, heavy snow fell, encasing the Forbidden City in ice. The sharp wind sliced like a blade, biting through the collar of anyone brave enough to step outdoors.
Consort Li sat before a plum-patterned mirror, studying her reflection. Women seemed to age more quickly after childbirth; in a few short years, faint lines had appeared at the corners of her eyes. They were like stubborn creases on fine silk, impossible to smooth. The sight stirred a quiet frustration.
Her personal maid, Zhuxia, hurried over and whispered in her ear. "Depot Chief Shen is here."
Consort Li looked to one side and saw the heavy doors creak open, allowing a sliver of daylight to spill in. A tall man entered, cloaked in snow, followed by a line of young eunuchs bearing wooden trays.
This was the most sought-after man in the Forbidden City, second only to Wei De. As chief of the Eastern Depot, he moved through the palace with an entourage as grand and imposing as the mountains and seas. He was also exceptionally handsome, with porcelain-like skin and features seemingly painted in ink. His eyes always had a faint hint of a smile at the corners, though that smile never quite reached their depths.
"Go and fetch the second prince," Consort Li instructed.
Shen Jue approached her. "Your Highness," he said, deftly taking Consort Li's hand and leading her toward a screen. "These are the new tributary furs. Her Majesty the Empress has already made her choice. Please pick one you like, and I'll have someone tailor it into a scarf. It's bitterly cold, and Your Highness must take care of your health." His words were always as warm and comforting as a spring breeze.
Consort Li swept a brief glance over the offerings—black fox and silver mink, the same as last year. The empress had no doubt already claimed the finest silver-tipped otter fur. What was left for her to choose? Pointing at a random pelt, she asked, "Does a minor issue like this really require the depot chief himself to burden himself with stepping in? What are your subordinates doing?" Sitting on her throne, she gazed up at Shen Jue, the crimson tassels of her headdress framing her flawless, jade-like chin.
Ah—why was a man so beautiful? It was truly maddening.
"Your Highness jests. It's an honor to serve you; others would beg for the privilege. How could I find it burdensome?" He glanced at the fur she'd chosen and smiled faintly. "Your Highness chose the silver mink, but your servant finds its color a bit too frivolous. I think the black sable is far more refined—it suits Your Highness much better."
As always, his words were full of reason. For years, he'd subtly guided her choices in attire, speech, and behavior. In turn, without realizing it, she developed a reputation for elegance, propriety, and virtue—so much so that even the most critical scholars spoke of her with unqualified praise.
Given her typical style, the sable was undeniably the most suitable choice. Yet today, she felt a flicker of doubt. She shot a resentful glance at Shen Jue, wondering whether he thought a bright mink fur would no longer suit her aging appearance.
Consort Li nodded, and Shen Jue gave the order. The line of young eunuchs left the room with their trays.
Only after the doors were securely closed did she let herself relax, slumping into her throne like softened clay. Shen Jue gave no sign that he noticed; his eyebrows didn't so much as twitch.
No one knew that Consort Li was merely a paper tiger. Shen Jue had crafted all of her titles—"Virtuous Consort," "Gentle and Quiet." Her perceived meekness and humility were rooted not in virtue but in timidity and fear. Even her amiable smile was nothing more than awkwardness.
"After all my waiting, you finally came, Depot Chief. Ah—you're always so busy. I was afraid that sending someone to fetch you might draw Wei De's attention, so I had no choice but to hold back and wait for you to find time to visit."
"There's no need for concern, Your Highness. If you have any worries, please feel free to speak openly."
"Did you know that the emperor visited me the other day?"
Shen Jue's eyes curved as he smiled. "That's good news indeed. But Your Highness seems worried, rather than pleased. Why?"
"Good news? Hardly!" Consort Li flung her handkerchief onto the table in frustration. "As soon as His Majesty left, the empress came over for tea and said all sorts of cryptic things. I smiled and nodded so much that my face nearly went stiff. I don't know what got into His Majesty when he insisted on staying in my quarters, but now the empress thinks I pulled some trick to win back his favor. She's probably cursing me at this very moment!"
Shen Jue hid a faint smile, lowering his head. "When His Majesty is here, Your Highness should focus on serving him well—it's your rightful duty, and even the empress can't fault you for it. Remember, lying low doesn't mean constant compromise or letting others think you're weak—it's about avoiding confrontation and conserving your strength. Your Highness should simply remain composed and act with decorum, leaving the empress no reason to pick a fight. His Majesty's visit was a good thing—it showed the empress that you still hold a place in his heart, so she won't dare to move against you recklessly."
"Is that so?" Consort Li let out a sigh of relief, slumping back into her seat. "Serving as a noble consort is exhausting. I'm constantly worried that the empress will hold more offenses against me. I've been so on edge these past few days, too afraid to eat or drink. I even have Zhuxia inspect the incense in my room repeatedly each day."
"Your Highness is like someone who, having been bitten by a snake, flinches at the sight of a rope. There's no need for concern. With me here, nothing impure will enter Chengqian Palace. If such matters still required your attention, I would have myself caned."
Consort Li smiled, the dark clouds in her heart finally dissipating. "Then I leave it to you, Depot Chief."
Right after she finished speaking, Zhuxia entered, the second prince in her arms. The child was as delicate as a jade sculpture, his cheeks rosy like a plump doll in a New Year's painting. Wrapped snugly against the cold, he resembled a little snowball. Zhuxia brought him closer, and the spirited child beamed at Shen Jue, reaching out eagerly to be held.
Consort Li smiled warmly as she placed the child in Shen Jue's arms. "Depot Chief, look at this child. Even at such a young age, he can tell who truly cares for him. See how fond he is of you! He treats you with as much warmth as if you were his second father. We, mother and son, are alone in this vast palace with no one to rely on but you, Depot Chief. We hope you'll keep looking after us."
The dim lamplight flickered, casting shadows over Shen Jue's downcast eyes. Consort Li caught the faintest curl of a smile at the corners of his lips—but it was too shallow, too cold. Shen Jue held the second prince with care, the child's soft hand resting in his own, as light as a tuft of cotton. "Your Highness is a noble woman with boundless prospects. I'm merely a humble servant. How could I ever dare call myself his second father? Please, Your Highness, don't say such things again."
Consort Li murmured quietly in agreement.
Relinquishing the second prince, Shen Jue accepted a cloak from a young eunuch, secured its gilded clasp, and bowed slightly to Consort Li before striding out into the swirling snowstorm. Consort Li watched from afar as he stepped through the palace gates, then heaved a soft sigh.
"What did he even mean by that?!" Zhuxia pouted. "Is our second prince not good enough for him? Really."
"A man's heart is as elusive as a needle lost in the ocean," Consort Li said wistfully. "Especially the heart of such a beautiful man."
Zhuxia clicked her tongue. "True, there's nothing to complain about when it comes to his appearance."
Consort Li looked at her askance. "You silly girl! Don't tell me you've fallen for him?"
Zhuxia's face reddened as she quickly protested, "What are you saying, Your Highness?! Even if Your Highness has no shame, your servant does!"
Consort Li giggled and tickled the maid under the arms. "If you marry him, we'll become a family. Then he'll have no choice but to assist us further!"
Outside, the snowstorm raged on. Shen Jue sat in his carriage, his hands cradling a heater, and closed his eyes to try and rest. Lately, peace was a luxury he couldn't afford. He found himself darting around constantly—tending to Consort Li, handling Wei De, and navigating the emperor's demands. Below, a throng of scheming officials had lined up to speak to him, and he couldn't just turn them all away.
Shen Jue frowned as he lifted the curtain to gaze at the snow outside. Thick flakes coated the ground, and the distant mountains stood crowned in white. As Shen Jue leaned against the carriage wall, his mind wandered back to his days at the Xie residence, when he and Xiahou Lian had been punished and forced to kneel in the cold. He recalled how Xiahou Lian had carried him back to Qiuwu Courtyard afterward—that day had also been full of swirling snow.
The minister of the Court of Judicial Review had invited Shen Jue over for a casual lunch. At the dining table, spittle flew everywhere as the portly man rambled on about patriotism, world unity, and other such lofty ideals. He also heaped praise on Shen Jue, calling him a pillar of the nation, a peerless official. The meal was tasteless, and Shen Jue listened with a blank expression, letting the words flow in one ear and out the other.
When the lunch finally ended, Shen Jue declined the man's invitations to dinner and future meetings. He gestured for Shen Wenxing, who was standing by, to follow him out. The minister of the Court of Judicial Review hurried after them, his back hunched as he snatched the umbrella from Shen Wenxing's hand in order to hold it for Shen Jue. Shen Jue subtly stepped away, leaving his outer shoulder exposed to the snow. Soon, he was half dusted in white.
As they reached the courtyard, Shen Jue prepared to politely ask the minister not to escort him farther. Then a disheveled girl burst through a side gate and rushed toward the main entrance. Everyone was startled, and several servants stepped forward to stop her. When she spotted Shen Jue, she froze in her tracks, then dropped to her knees and threw herself at his feet.
"Your Excellency, save me! Save me!"
The minister's face darkened. "Who is this? Take her away! Don't let her disturb the depot chief!" he barked at the servants.
Several servants stepped forward to seize the girl, but she clung desperately to Shen Jue's leg, sobbing. "My name is Zhu Mingyue. My fiancé, Situ Jin, is a captain in the Five Armies Camp. Earlier today, the eldest son of the minister of the Court of Judicial Review abducted me and brought me here! My fiancé is stationed at the military camp just outside the capital. I beg you, Depot Chief, please! Please save me!"
Shen Wenxing was horrified. Shen Jue's fastidiousness was well known—he never let anyone come too close. The young eunuchs who served him bathed three times a day, and they dared not approach him if they so much as broke a sweat. Now, this girl had grabbed Shen Jue's leg! Shen Wenxing was certain Shen Jue would take off her head.
The minister's eldest son hurried over, pale at the sight of Mingyue clinging to Shen Jue. "Please don't listen to her nonsense, Depot Chief. She's just a madwoman—the daughter of one of my servants. They failed to watch her today, and now she's ended up bothering you. I'll take care of this immediately. Someone come drag her away!"
Mingyue panicked and shook her head. "He's lying! He's lying! He took advantage of my father's death and the fact that my fiancé is stationed at the military camp to abduct me and bring me here! Depot Chief, you're good and just—please help me! I beg you!"
This would be her only chance. She'd finally escaped the woodshed. The mansion was heavily guarded, but she was only steps away from the gate. As long as Shen Jue helped her, she could escape. She looked up hopefully, only to be met with a cold, indifferent man's icy gaze.
"You dirtied my shoes," Shen Jue said.
Mingyue felt as though he'd dumped a bucket of icy water over her, chilling her from head to toe. She loosened her grip, numb.
His brow deeply furrowed, Shen Jue stepped into the waiting carriage; meanwhile, the minister's elated eldest son gestured to the servants. They seized Mingyue's legs and began dragging her back toward the inner courtyard. Mingyue thrashed and wailed, clawing at the ground until her nails broke. Her hands left ten trails of dark-red blood in the snow.
***
SITU JIN STROLLED ALONG the street. It was Mingyue's birthday, and he'd requested leave a month in advance to ensure he would be free. He'd also saved three months' wages to purchase a gilded hairpin from Liulichang. The hairpin, originally from the palace, was to be his betrothal gift. The matchmaker was ready; today was the day Situ Jin planned to propose to Mingyue.
Following the second prince's birth, the emperor had proclaimed a general amnesty, and Situ Jin was pardoned and reinstated. Still, for Mingyue, the past few years had been nothing short of a nightmare. Shortly after Situ Jin's departure three years earlier, her father had passed away, leaving her to fend for herself in the capital. She managed to survive by foraging herbs in the countryside to sell to local apothecaries, supplementing her meager income with rough needlework.
A stunning woman, she was widely known as the "Xi Shi5 of Herbs," and often drew unwanted attention from ruffians who came knocking on her door in the dead of night. Mingyue lived in constant dread; she barricaded her doors with tables, chairs, and anything else within reach. She even stacked chests and crates against the door of her room, sealing it securely. Matchmakers came by frequently and urged her to marry, but she always declined, saying that she was still in mourning. Yet everyone knew the truth—she was waiting for a man who might never return.
Situ Jin still recalled the day he'd gotten back. Mingyue was standing in the doorway, a basket of herbs strapped to her back, silently watching him from a distance. As he drew closer, tears spilled down her face. She'd grown so thin that her already delicate face was sharp and angular, almost pointed.
"Lord Situ, my father is gone," Mingyue had cried. "My father is gone. I'm all alone."
Situ Jin, who was terrible with words, took a long, awkward pause before finally managing, "That's fine. I'm by myself too. But if we're together, two 'me's will make an 'us.'"
Mingyue wiped her tears with the back of her hand, still weeping, then suddenly sputtered a giggle.
The truth was, Situ Jin had wanted to say more. He wanted to say that, if she was willing, they could be more than just two; their family could grow to three, four, even five in the future.
Earlier that year, Mingyue had at last completed her mourning period. Situ Jin had been preparing for that moment for a long time. With no family of his own, he took care of all the arrangements himself: finding a matchmaker, calculating the best dates, and preparing betrothal gifts. His priority was to give Mingyue the very best he could provide.
The winter sun was pleasantly warm, snow glistening on the ground. A pear tree bloomed at the alley's entrance, the white petals drifting gently in the wind to blend seamlessly with the snow. For once, Situ Jin's normally expressionless face radiated a trace of cheer, prompting several passersby to turn and stare.
As he turned the corner, he saw the matchmaker pacing anxiously at the door.
"Oh, Lord Situ, you're finally here!" The matchmaker rushed over, her face full of worry. "The son of the minister of the Court of Judicial Review has kidnapped Miss Mingyue! You must do something!"
Situ Jin felt as if a thunderbolt had struck him, numbing his scalp. His vision flickered, winking with stars as he steadied himself against the wall. "When did this happen?"
"Noon. It's been almost two hours!"
Situ Jin said nothing more. He pressed his lips together and returned home to grab a saber from the altar. He'd obtained the blade during his apprenticeship to a blacksmith on the northern frontier. It was long and slightly curved like a crescent moon—a hallmark of northern craftsmanship.
The matchmaker had followed on his heels, and as she watched him draw the blade, her face paled with alarm. "What are you thinking? You can't fight him head-on! You'd be outnumbered—and you'll just end up under arrest by the authorities!"
"There's no other way. If I don't go now, it'll be too late." He dared not say that it might already be too late.
His face grim, he marched toward the residence of the minister of the Court of Judicial Review, saber in hand. He radiated murderous rage. Watching Situ Jin's resolute figure fade into the distance, the matchmaker sighed deeply and stomped in frustration—but ultimately didn't follow.
***
SHEN WENXING HELPED Shen Jue into the carriage, then hurried back, waving his horsetail whisk. "Wait, wait!"
The minister of the Court of Judicial Review quickly approached. "Did the depot chief still need to say something?"
"The depot chief said that the woman dirtied his boots and cannot be forgiven. She must be taken to the Eastern Depot and kept there until she cleans them."
"That's…" The eldest son managed a strained smile. "Why don't I present the depot chief with a pair from Xingyun Pavilion? The most comfortable boots you can find!"
Shen Wenxing looked at him askance, snorting. "Does our depot chief lack shoes?" he sneered. "This woman offended him, and you still try to shield her?"
"No, no!" The minister glared at his son, then pointed at his servants and snapped, "Let go of her! Quickly!"
The servants hesitated, but they finally let go. Mingyue kicked free and scrambled to Shen Wenxing's side. Her once-delicate hands were bloodstained, and her almond-shaped eyes brimmed with tears.
She really was a beauty, Shen Wenxing noted. No wonder his godfather wanted to save her.
In the years following Shen Jue's rise to power, many had offered him beautiful women. Some even sent over young men. Shen Jue showed no interest, however, and turned them all away. Over time, people came to the conclusion that, since he was still a eunuch—and thus missing a certain piece—such gestures only rubbed salt in the wound. From then on, the offers quietly ceased.
Shen Wenxing had thought that Shen Jue simply had no interest in such things, but now it seemed more likely that he'd just never met the right person. Giving Mingyue a reassuring smile, Shen Wenxing led her to the carriage.
Mingyue wiped her tears. "Thank you for saving me, Depot Chief."
There was no reply from within the carriage besides Shen Jue tossing a cloak out.
Picking up the cloak, Shen Wenxing muttered to himself about how stubborn the depot chief could be, making even the simple rescue of a maiden into something that seemed begrudgingly coerced. Handing the cloak to Mingyue, he said, "There are no women's garments in the carriage, so I'm afraid you'll have to make do with a cloak for now."
"Thank you, Depot Chief! Thank you, Your Excellency," Mingyue called, tears in her eyes. "You're truly kindhearted!"
Shen Wenxing smiled. "Remember that, miss. Once we return, be sure to serve the depot chief well."
Mingyue was stunned. "What…what do you mean?"
"What else could I mean? Our chief doesn't save people for free."
Just as he finished speaking, a shoe flew out of the carriage window and struck Shen Wenxing squarely on the forehead. Startled and terrified, Shen Wenxing raised his head to meet Shen Jue's icy gaze.
"Your name already has one mouth. Perhaps I should remove the one on your face."6
"Spare me, Godfather!" Shen Wenxing covered his mouth.
Mingyue and Shen Wenxing followed the carriage as it rolled through the bustling streets of Andingmen. Mingyue pulled the cloak tightly around herself. Her hair was tangled, and her clothes were filthy—she couldn't bear the thought of being seen like this.
As they reached Haizi Bridge, a man approached, radiating bloodthirstiness. Mingyue's heart skipped a beat. "Lord Situ!" she called out.
Situ Jin looked up and saw the girl he loved running toward him, wrapped in a cloak. Behind her was an unassuming carriage, a slick-looking eunuch with a smiling face standing beside it.
"The man in that carriage is the chief of the Eastern Depot," Mingyue whispered to her fiancé. "He saved me."
Situ Jin approached the carriage and bowed. "Situ Jin, at your service. Thank you for saving her, Depot Chief. If you ever need anything, just say the word. I'll do whatever it takes, no matter the cost."
A hand lifted the carriage curtain, and Situ Jin heard a cold voice.
"Situ Jin—the top scorer in the imperial military exams in the eighteenth year of Xuanhe. You're renowned for your ability to shoot with both hands, and to strike any target within a hundred paces. The emperor awarded you a golden bow, and you served in the right-hand army of the imperial guard. But three years later, during Qiye Garden's assassination of the late noble consort, you abandoned your post and were demoted to the Five Armies Camp. Afterward, you shot the first prince's horse, causing him to fall and permanently injure his leg. You were sentenced to a hundred lashes and exiled thousands of miles away, but you were eventually pardoned and reinstated. Still, after six years in office, you remain a mere captain."
Situ Jin lowered his head in silence.
"Raise your head."
Situ Jin did as he was told and saw a familiar face in the carriage. Years ago, Shen Jue had been a young eunuch caught on the cusp between boyhood and adolescence, but now a refined and elegant young man sat there.
"I owe you my life," Shen Jue said. "The Eastern Depot is currently short one company commander. If you're interested, report to the Eastern Depot tomorrow."