Victory and defeat were the common fate of war. Yet how could a battle, seemingly certain to win—seven hundred thousand troops against Cao Cao’s mere tens of thousands—end in such a crushing defeat? The great fire at Wuchao not only incinerated Yuan Shao’s ambition to unify the north but also shattered his once formidable physique.
After fleeing to Ye City, the once proud and vigorous lord of Hebei seemed to have aged twenty years overnight. He refused to meet most of his ministers, often staring blankly at maps, sometimes murmuring to himself, sometimes erupting in rage, smashing objects, followed by long periods of despondency. Imperial doctors diagnosed “excessive worry, liver stagnation, internal damage,” prescribing countless medicines, but his condition worsened instead of improving.
Yuan Shao’s illness hung over Ye City like a massive shadow, making the powerful families tied to the Yuan clan’s fortunes increasingly anxious. The Zhen family, ancestral home of Zhen Mi, suffered heavy losses as well.
The Zhens were among Hebei’s wealthiest families. In Yuan Shao’s heyday, they had not only married the extraordinarily beautiful Zhen Mi to Yuan Xi but had also invested immense wealth and provisions to support Yuan Shao, essentially giving their all for anticipated political gain.
But after the disastrous Battle of Guandu, Yuan Shao’s elite forces were annihilated, his strength drained, and the dream of unifying the land shattered. The Zhen family’s investments were gone without a trace—the losses staggering. Their maternal clan declined, and Zhen Mi’s status in the Yuan household became increasingly precarious and awkward.
Yuan Shao’s principal wife, Lady Liu, had always been magnanimous. But seeing her husband gravely ill and the family fortunes declining, her heart brimmed with anxiety, resentment, and a need for security. She had to worry about the Yuan household’s future while also safeguarding her own position and seeking outlets for her frustration.
Yuan Shao had three sons: Yuan Tan, Yuan Xi, and Yuan Shang. Zhen Mi’s husband, Yuan Xi, was the second son. Though defeated at Guandu, the Yuan clan was still powerful; historically, it was internal succession disputes after Yuan Shao’s death that allowed Cao Cao to seize the north.
At this moment, Yuan Xi’s concubine Wu Nian saw an opportunity. Wu Nian was high-born and attractive, skilled in flattery and intrigue, and long jealous of Zhen Mi’s beauty and lineage. Even though Zhen Mi was favored by Yuan Xi, her noble background still gave her the status of principal wife. Now, with the Zhen family financially ruined, Wu Nian sensed her chance had arrived.
She carefully dressed and went to Lady Liu’s quarters to pay respects, seeing the lady troubled over Yuan Shao’s health and Yuan Shang’s future. She feigned concern:
“Mother, you’ve lost weight; it must be from worrying about Father and the family. You’ve worked so hard.”
Lady Liu sighed:
“How can one not be troubled in these times?”
Wu Nian leaned closer, voice lowered, filled with a seemingly sincere mixture of worry and suggestion:
“Mother, there’s something I think you should know… but only if it’s appropriate to speak…”
“Speak plainly! Why beat around the bush?” Lady Liu’s patience showed.
Wu Nian hesitated, then spoke cautiously:
“It… concerns Sister Zhen. Mother, consider this—since Father’s defeat at Guandu, Sister Zhen seems increasingly melancholy. I’ve heard that her maternal Zhen clan suffered heavily and harbors grievances. Some even privately blame her for not fully supporting Father, leading to today’s misfortune…”
Lady Liu’s expression darkened instantly.
Wu Nian continued, adding fuel to the fire:
“That aside, I’ve also heard that Sister Zhen often cries alone in her quarters, sometimes looking at old keepsakes… I merely worry… could it be that she harbors resentment toward the Yuan family because of her maternal clan? Or… does she still… think of… someone else?”
Lady Liu, low-born and always wary of the Zhen family, was now highly sensitive due to Yuan Shao’s illness. Hearing Wu Nian’s carefully planted words of slander, she was instantly enraged:
“Enough! The Zhens! The audacity of Zhen Mi! We treated her well, yet now she dares harbor resentment? Dare think of another? Preposterous!”
Wu Nian inwardly rejoiced but outwardly feigned panic:
“Mother, calm yourself! I merely relay what I’ve heard, perhaps it’s untrue… I only thought you should know…”
“Hmph! Making waves without cause!” Lady Liu’s eyes glinted with sharpness. “Their losses are their own folly. To complain at us? Zhen Mi is a femme fatale, shifting the misfortune of Yuan Shao’s defeat onto her head!”
She ordered Wu Nian:
“Keep an eye on her! Should she act out, report immediately! Also, cut her allowances to the minimum!”
“Yes, Mother,” Wu Nian replied, suppressing her delight, bowing respectfully and withdrawing.
From then on, Zhen Mi’s life in the Yuan household declined sharply. Her allowances were harshly reduced; even meals were often meager leftovers. Lady Liu constantly scolded her, words sharp and cruel. Servants, seeing the mistress pleased, neglected and sometimes secretly harassed her.
In her secluded courtyard, Zhen Mi sat alone. Autumn winds blew, leaves scattered, the corridors empty and cold.
She gazed at the withered courtyard plants, wearing a faded simple gown. Even without makeup, her incomparable beauty remained.
Wu Nian arrived with a handmaid, dressed splendidly, makeup precise, her voice preceding her presence:
“Oh Sister, why sit alone in the wind? The chill cuts to the bone—take care not to catch cold.”
Zhen Mi slowly lifted her gaze, calm and unreadable, merely nodding:
“Madam Wu.”
Wu Nian seated herself nearby, feigning reproach:
“Sister, always so formal—just call me your younger sister. In these hard times, if anything is lacking, just speak up; we can manage a little. Don’t let yourself suffer too much.”
Zhen Mi’s lips curved into a faint, slightly ironic smile:
“Thank you for your concern. Everything is fine.”
Wu Nian lowered her voice, feigning heartfelt counsel:
“Sister, I came to advise you. Life must move forward, yes? I know the Zhen family suffers… it’s unforeseen misfortune. You’re distressed—I understand.”
Zhen Mi finally looked up, eyes cold as autumn waters:
“Madam Wu, what is it you truly wish to say? Speak plainly.”
Wu Nian, unsettled by her composure, forced a dry laugh:
“I have no ill intent. I only wish the best for you… for the family. But if Mother overhears rumors or sees you unhappy, it could be… dangerous.”
Zhen Mi listened silently, expression unchanged, then slowly rose:
“Is that all? If there is nothing else, I wish to be left in peace. You may leave.”
She dismissed Wu Nian with the same haughty grace that emanated from her very bones, even amidst adversity.
Wu Nian’s face turned pale and dark by turns, angry and frustrated:
“You! Hmph! You’ll regret it if you don’t heed good advice now!”
She huffed and swept away.
Zhen Mi, already despondent over Yuan Xi’s neglect and her family’s plight, now felt as if she were in a living icehouse, surrounded by coldness and malice. She became more silent, rarely leaving her quarters, like a flower gradually wilting away.
Occasionally, she would take out the jade pendant Cao Zhi had left behind, clutching it tightly. Its icy touch was her only connection to a world that had once offered her warmth and hope—a faint, yet tenacious, reason to continue living.