"Drinking in such heavy snow - Minister's tastes remain refined!" Xue Rong emerged like winter plum blossoms in crimson silver-edged jacket and charcoal wool culottes, cheeks flushed against the monochrome world.
"Care to share a jar?" Her playful tone surprised even herself - why did this perpetually solemn official invite such girlish spontaneity?
"Miss Xue. Returning to my residence. Why brave this cold?" Bai's bureaucratic poise faltered, unused to casual conversation. A Minister of Works purchasing cheap liquor in snowstorms hardly befitted his station.
As they walked shoulder-to-shoulder beneath his tilted umbrella, he noticed her cloud-shaped bun secured by agate hairpins with silver-edged crimson beads. The ornaments chimed like distant windbells - remarkable his enhanced hearing hadn't detected them earlier.
Thirteen moons had waxed since their last encounter. Bai's spies reported her continued defiance of astrological destiny, while Xue tracked his unnatural political ascent through merchant father's gossip. Countless mysteries hung between them, yet his opening question proved absurdly mundane: "Do you favor hairpins?"
The seasoned politician mentally cursed his ineptitude.
"Father's sycophants favor them. You seem to relish power, Minister?" She tilted her head upward, fearless despite barely reaching his chest.
"Survival requires occupation."
"Yet you maim yourself for status."
"Power's acquired. What I value lies elsewhere."
He slowed, snowflakes clinging to lashes. Suddenly her crimson attire blurred into maple-red memories of rushing streams.
Xue studied his face - this snow-draped titan appeared paradoxically fragile, eyes like drowned galaxies.
"Do you believe in fate?" His voice shattered her reverie.
"You read countless destinies. Do you?" Her breath formed crystalline clouds. "I reject Eight Characters and Ziwei charts constraining lives."
Bai chuckled genuinely - perhaps his first unguarded laughter since embracing ambition. "Astute. These systems don't bind me. Your perspective?"
"At first you differed from charlatan fortune-tellers. Then spouted similar nonsense." She kicked snowplayfully, embroidered shoes spraying powder.
"What nonsense?"
"Fortune-telling nonsense!" Another kick sent snow swirling. Seizing a frosty handful, she twirled: "You peddle destiny yet disbelieve it! That proves higher truths exist - how else skyrocket through ranks?"
Her declaration echoed through snow-laden pines.
Bai smiled enigmatically. *Clever girl.*
"Then who are you truly?"
"You guess!" Grinning impishly, she dashed away. "My turn here! Thanks for the umbrella, Minister!"
He secretly dispersed blizzard winds around her retreating figure, watching crimson dissolve into white oblivion.
Returning home, his steward noted unusual color in pale cheeks. As Bai warmed hands by hearth, an envelope materialized - vermilion seal bearing "Lin'an Temple."