On a certain morning in the month of Gengzi, snowflakes drifted over Liuzhou City. A biting chill seeped into every corner—the ancient stone steps, the long embankment, the withered trees—all dusted with a layer of white.
Nearly two years had passed since he arrived in Liuzhou. Bai Changming rose and opened his wardrobe. One side was stacked with luxurious garments, the topmost being a crimson official robe. His fingers brushed against the cold jade, the gold and silver threads, the embroidered beasts and birds. On the day he was appointed Minister of the Department of State Affairs, beaming officials had knelt in solemn reverence as they presented it to him, and the entire court seemed to celebrate as if he were a trophy.
When he unfolded the robe, he finally understood—the embroidery, too, depicted monsters.
Beneath it lay several other garments, seemingly gifted as accessories. As his rank rose, the exchange of presents naturally grew frequent, forcing him to meticulously record the titles, names, and faces of each giver. Most were dark-colored robes, symbols of authority and opulence, adorned with gemstones like dazzling concubines meticulously inlaid.
He shut the wardrobe and opened another beside it, which held only black and white garments—alternated for day and night outings.
As a white fox demon, he still preferred his original colors.
Pulling out a white robe, he stepped to the window. Outside, the snow fell steadily, and even the warmth of the stove could not dispel the cold in the room.
Over the past year, his official rank had climbed steadily through his meticulous scheming. Power, prestige, and wealth—his cunning, focus, and the ruthless, covert use of sorcery—had propelled him to the highest seat of authority in just two years, allowing him to once again look down upon the masses.
If a man were free from greed, hatred, and delusion, undistracted by desire, and utterly unconstrained by affection—coupled with the aid of magic—he could conjure something from nothing, sow discord, and turn a treasure into a crime. *Share a golden cup with you today, but show no mercy when the blade is drawn.*
He had drunk many rounds of wine with all manner of people, from mediocre yellow rice wine to the legendary Tai Xi Bai, hailed as the nectar of the gods. Yet despite all those heated cups of warming liquor, he only grew colder.
Back in Saher City, two thin layers had been enough for scaling rooftops on midwinter nights. Now, with just a light snowfall, he had to bundle up in thick cotton robes to ward off the chill.
Rubbing his hands together for warmth, he leaned against the desk to review documents. The vast estate was nearly silent. The front hall, where guests were received, was lavishly decorated with exquisite furnishings. His inner chamber, however, resembled nothing more than a simple study, devoid of any excess ornamentation.
Even the servants—his acute hearing picked up the slightest noise wherever people were present, so in one fit of temper, he had reduced their number to four. Later, in another fit, he dismissed them all, leaving only a steward who reported messages and received orders. A *"keep away"* demeanor.
The common folk praised his incorruptibility. Mid-to-low-ranking officials took him as a model and emulated him. High-ranking officials, though offering surface-level admiration, privately kept their distance. As for the Emperor... for now, he seemed at ease.
In any case, for a Minister of the second rank to have such a sparsely populated residence was, in this dynasty, practically unheard of.
Holding an umbrella against the snow, he walked the near-empty streets. Once again, he went out to buy wine. Though his estate's cabinets were stocked with expensive vintages, none could dispel his chill.
Tossing out a few pieces of silver, he dealt with a shopkeeper who, living in a quiet corner of Liuzhou, knew nothing of court affairs and treated him like any other customer, pulling out two jars of plain white wine and offering a few ordinary, everyday pleasantries.
Just as he walked back, umbrella in one hand and wine in the other, he suddenly heard footsteps behind him. The sound paused not far away, and a woman's voice, like the clear note of a flute in the cold wind, called out—
"Minister Bai... is that you?"