On a snowy morning in Gengzi Month, Liuzhou awoke beneath swirling crystals. The chill seeped into ancient stone steps and withered willows along embankments, painting the world in monastic white.
Nearly two years had crystallized since Bai Changming's arrival. He opened his wardrobe - crimson official robes dominated the upper tier, embroidered with mythical beasts in gold and silver thread. The jade-adorned garment, presented with obsequious ceremony upon his ascension to Minister of Works, now felt like a trophy from vanquished prey.
Beneath lay darker robes studded with gemstones - tributes from climbing bureaucrats. Each jewel recorded a briber's face and title in his mind. Closing this cabinet of vanities, he revealed another containing only monochrome garments preferred for their fox-fur simplicity.
Selecting white robes, he gazed through frost-etched windows. The hearth's glow couldn't thaw the cold permeating bones that once braved Sahar winters in mere linens. Now even light snow demanded heavy quilting.
Through methodical scheming and judicious magic, he'd ascended bureaucratic ranks like a chess grandmaster - power and wealth accumulating as naturally as icicles forming. Cruelty unsoftened by desire, intellect sharpened by immortality, he manipulated mortal affairs with glacial precision.
The ministerial compound stood eerily silent. While reception halls glittered with ostentation, his private quarters remained spartan - a scholar's cell containing only essential tomes. Even servants had been dismissed until only one steward remained, perpetuating rumors of eccentric asceticism that lower officials emulated as virtue.
Venturing into snow-silenced streets, he traded silver for common rice wine. The shopkeeper's mundane chatter about snowfall felt almost comforting.
As he walked homeward, twin jars swinging from frostbitten fingers, footsteps halted behind him. A woman's voice rang clear - a melodic flute note piercing winter's silence:
"Minister Bai... is that you?"