The winter of the twentieth year of the Jinghe era was exceptionally cold.
As the end of the year approached, snow fell on Jingdu for seven days and seven nights straight.
The snowflakes fluttered down, burying the entire capital under ice and snow. As far as the eye could see, the world was a vast expanse of white.
At dawn, as the sky began to lighten.
In a remote, shabby alley in the southern part of the city, a rickety wooden gate creaked open from the inside, and a woman emerged.
The woman did not look old, perhaps in her early thirties. Her lush, striking features still held a faint trace of her former, breathtaking beauty.
Had any noble lady from Jingdu’s high society been present, she would have recognized this woman as the one who had once been the laughingstock of their entire circle, the infamous Empty-headed Beauty: Gan Cai’er.
But the Gan Cai’er of today could no longer be called a “beauty.”
Her face was now covered in fine lines, her skin coarse, dry, and sallow. Her complexion was dull, giving her an aged appearance that far exceeded her years.
A cheap, blue-patterned kerchief was wrapped around her hair bun, with a few strands escaping at the edges. A mix of withered yellow and pale white, they further highlighted her destitution and plight.
She had to stop and catch her breath every few steps, looking extremely frail and ill. The clothes on her body were also thin, just a single layer of a floral-print padded jacket. When the cold wind blew, she couldn’t stop shivering.
Despite the cold and her physical discomfort, Gan Cai’er braved the wind and snow and continued onward.
After seven days and nights of snow, the streets and alleys of Jingdu were all covered in a thick layer of it.
Every step for Gan Cai’er was a struggle. It took her two full hours to walk from the south of the city to the west.
In Jingdu, “the east is for the rich, the west for the noble, the south for the lowly, and the north for the poor.” Those who lived in the western part of the city were either princes and dukes or members of powerful aristocratic clans—all of them from high and noble households.
Gan Cai’er hugged the base of a wall, winding her way through the streets until she skillfully entered a back alley behind a grand estate.
She walked straight to the end of the alley, squatted down, and scraped at the ground with her foot a few times, revealing a small doggy door at the base of the wall.
She took a small, fresh cypress branch from her bosom, stuck it into the doggy door, and then gently shook it.
Before long, a voice came from the other side of the wall.
“Mother, is that you?” The voice was very young, that of a little boy about eight or nine years old, still tinged with a bit of childishness.
That single word, “Mother,” tore Gan Cai’er’s heart to shreds. Her eyes instantly reddened, and tears began to drip down, one after another.
“Xing’er, it’s me,” she said, her voice choked with sobs.
“Mother, can you come and get me?” The small voice was filled with hope.
Hearing this, Gan Cai’er’s heart felt as if it were being twisted by a knife, and her tears fell even more fiercely.
That was the son she had carried for ten months; how could she ever want to be separated from him?! But she was a person of low status with no power to her words. How could she possibly fight against the Weiguo Duke’s Mansion?
She steadied herself and forced her voice to sound as cheerful as possible. “Xing’er, once you’re a little older, you can apply to the Clan School to study at an Academy. When that time comes, we’ll be able to see each other.”
“No, you’re wrong! Mother won’t let me go out to study. She won’t even let me go to the Clan School anymore!”
“Mother, please just take me away. You were able to take my little sister, why can’t you take me too?” The voice from the other side of the wall grew agitated, a sob hidden within it, laced with deep grievance.
Her son’s words were like a slow, torturous death, slicing away at Gan Cai’er’s heart. How could she not know that the venomous woman who had schemed to ruin her reputation and drive her to a dead end would never treat her son kindly?
But…
“Xing’er, you are the eldest son of the Weiguo Duke’s Mansion. Your name is in the family registry. Mother can’t take you away…”
Gan Cai’er covered her mouth, breaking into uncontrollable sobs.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to take her son; it was that it was simply impossible.
Hearing her cry, the voice on the other side of the wall grew frantic.
“Mother, don’t cry. I won’t go. I won’t go.”
“Mother, I’ll listen to you. I’ll study hard! If they don’t let me study, I’ll study in secret. When I grow up, I will definitely get justice for you!”
Wiping her tears, Gan Cai’er took out a small pouch from her bosom and shoved it forcefully through the doggy door.
“The mansion is full of wicked servants. Take this silver. If the Grand Madam has people make things difficult for you, use the money to bribe them a little. Don’t be reluctant to spend it. Mother asks for nothing else, only that you and your sister can be safe and sound.”
“Mother, I understand.”
A pair of small hands took the pouch, clutching it tightly.
“Young Master, we should go. Don’t let anyone find you,” a young servant’s voice called from a distance.
“Alright. Xing’er, hurry back to your room. It’s cold today, be careful not to catch a chill,” Gan Cai’er also urged.
“Mother, when will you come again?”
“The fifteenth of the first month, how about that? I’ll bring you a candy figure then.”
“Mm, okay.”
Meng Beihai stood up from the ground and tugged at his robes. The fabric was of the finest Cloud-pattern Brocade inlaid with fox fur, but it was too worn and clearly much too small, not even covering his wrists.
Ever since his father had died in battle and his mother had been driven out of the Weiguo Duke’s Mansion, his life in the residence had gotten worse by the day. He pressed his lips together, tightened his grip on the pouch in his hand, and turned to leave.
Only after the footsteps on the other side of the wall faded into the distance did Gan Cai’er push herself up, leaning against the wall. A sudden wave of dizziness washed over her, and she dug her fingernails tightly into the wall to keep from collapsing into the snow.
Four years ago, she had suffered a difficult childbirth with her daughter, which had left her with chronic health problems. In the last two years, her body had deteriorated even further. She was terribly weak, spending her days either coughing or gasping for breath.
Gan Cai’er rubbed her numb, frozen hands and suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to cry. She, too, had once been a charming and beautiful young woman, the wife of a top scholar envied by all. How had she ended up in such a state?