Winter Snow

But—

Wen Chan was shocked and asked herself: 'Do I have a grudge with the Crown Prince?'

In her past life, the Crown Prince's greatest enemies were clearly Yuan Shuye and Consort Xu. Wen Chan had not stood against him; she had merely watched safely from the sidelines as the two factions fought. She had even pleaded for him before the Emperor after his downfall. Even if they weren't allies, he wouldn't hate her to the point of wanting her dead... Yuan Shuye was still alive and kicking.

In that case, this incident really had nothing to do with the assassination, and was the work of another group of people?

Or perhaps it had nothing to do with factions, and it was just someone who hated both her and Consort Xu... But if she didn't start by looking at the factions, it would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. She might not find it even by the time the killers arrived at her door.

Wen Chan's heart could not find peace, and the palace was not quiet either. The news of Meng Wenqiong striking the drum to air his grievances had spread throughout Pingjing, alarming the Emperor in his lap of luxury. He had not previously known of Xu Yingluo's background. Given time, once Xu Yingluo's favor was more secure, she could have slowly told him of her past. The Emperor not only wouldn't have disdained her for her humble birth but would have felt even more pity for her. After all, men loved the drama of saving a damsel in distress. But Xu Yingluo's position was currently unstable. Her illegitimate birth and her past as a courtesan were mercilessly exposed for the entire city to know. The Emperor couldn't stand the loss of face and deeply resented Xu Zhaoyun for his incompetence, naturally giving Xu Yingluo the cold shoulder as well.

According to the dynasty's custom, since Meng Wenqiong had struck the Dengwen Drum, the case had to be tried. As he was accusing the local Prefect, the case could only be judged by the Censors. The Vice Censor-in-Chief, Wu Yongxin, was a shrewd man who pretended to be obtuse. He knew very well that this case was not for the Censorate to decide. After having his subordinate Censors inquire into the details, he presented the matter unchanged at the imperial court, asking for the Emperor's sacred judgment.

It was at such awkward moments, when the Emperor was too embarrassed to speak and the officials could not intervene, that someone adaptable and with a special status was needed to save the day.

Princess Chiming did not originally attend court. However, after the imperial court moved to Pingjing, the grand court assemblies were changed to regular court sessions held once every five days. Daily government affairs were sent to Zhanglu Palace to be decided jointly by Princess Chiming, key officials of the Three Departments, and other imperial confidants. The Emperor had grown accustomed to the Princess participating in decisions and sometimes wanted to hear her opinion during court sessions. Thus, he ordered Princess Chiming to enter Lizheng Palace to attend the regular court, which gradually became a convention.

Receiving the Emperor's gaze, Wen Chan pondered for a moment before stepping forward. In the silence of the hall, she spoke: "Reporting to Your Majesty, in your daughter's opinion, Meng Wenqiong and Lady Song were not properly married. Although they have children, Lady Song was cast out and fell into the lowly register, severing the bonds of husband and wife. Xu Zhaoyun removed Lady Song from the lowly register but did not take her as a wife or concubine, only adopting her children as his own, providing them with food, clothing, and education. If this is also considered forcible seizure, then I wonder how many people in Pingjing will go knocking on Prefect Xu's door, begging him to forcibly seize them."

The Emperor couldn't help but smile. The palace attendants and eunuchs standing by all pursed their lips, trying to hide their laughter. The tense atmosphere in the hall suddenly eased.

Wen Chan, however, turned serious and said: "Meng Wenqiong's demands are untenable, whether in terms of sentiment, reason, or law. Ultimately, he is merely taking advantage of Xu Zhaoyun's position as a court official to raise a banner of 'the strong bullying the weak' to win the sympathy of onlookers. The only thing he can truly present is his unwilling status as a 'birth father.' He gave them life but did not raise them; he is a father but not a kinsman. If Lady Song and her children are awarded to him based on this alone, then in the future, all those who sell their wives and daughters can come strike the Dengwen Drum. If this continues, how will the laws of the court be any different from a piece of empty paper?"

"The court established the Dengwen Drum to give the common people a way to voice their grievances and seek redress, not for those with ulterior motives to casually sling mud at others," Wen Chan said. "This case is now known throughout the court and the country, and the common people are all watching for the outcome. Your daughter believes we must cut this tangled knot with a sharp blade and put a stop to this unhealthy trend. What Meng Wenqiong said is untrue. For falsely accusing a court-appointed official, he should be punished according to the law."

In truth, everyone knew that the Emperor was simply displeased that a good fruit had grown on a rotten vine. Xu Zhaoyun should have handled these matters beforehand, but he made a misstep and had the chessboard overturned on him. Between the birth father and the adoptive father, the Emperor naturally favored Xu Zhaoyun. But as the one picking the fruit, he could not appear too biased, so some things had to be said by his ministers.

Wen Chan's stepping forward at this moment was to state the Emperor's position for him. Without mentioning a single word about the inner palace, she had grandly elevated the issue to the level of court law. With her taking the lead, the other ministers immediately followed suit and echoed her sentiment. Together, they produced a result that satisfied the Emperor. Sure enough, the Emperor's expression softened slightly, and he nodded. "What my ministers say is quite right. Punish Meng Wenqiong according to the law. His intentions were sinister, so add one degree to his crime. In the future, for anyone who strikes the Dengwen Drum, if the accusations are found to be false, they will be punished for the crime of false accusation."

Her task accomplished, Wen Chan retreated, quietly returning to her original position and chanting along with the assembled officials, "Your Majesty is wise and brilliant."

After the court session ended and the officials dispersed, Wen Chan estimated she still had matters to attend to in the afternoon, so she was in no hurry to leave the palace. She led her people towards Fuyao Palace in the west palace.

Her residence in Pingjing was a bit far from the Imperial City, not as convenient to enter and exit as when she was in Zhaojing. Since the Emperor relied heavily on her, he naturally wouldn't treat her poorly. He had specially arranged a palace for her, to serve as a place for her to rest when she was in the palace.

The first snow had fallen in Pingjing yesterday, covering the ground in shattered jade and scattered pearls. The sky was still overcast when she left this morning, and now small snowflakes were beginning to drift down again. The weather was cold and the roads were slippery. As her palanquin slowly passed by Fangfei Garden, Wen Chan glanced over unintentionally and noticed two people kneeling on the palace path in the distance. She couldn't see their faces, but their bodies were already white with snow. She wondered if they were palace maids or eunuchs being punished.

Wen Chan ordered the procession to stop and beckoned to Cheng Xuan. "Go and see what's happening."

She had grown up in the palace, at the center of a vortex of power, spending her entire life fighting with all sorts of people. She understood better than anyone the cruel side of the court. Though she was not soft-handed, she never tormented people, nor did she enjoy seeing others tortured.

This was how she had taken in Cheng Xuan in the past. Therefore, he did not advise the princess against meddling in others' business. He went over to inquire as told and returned a moment later with a very peculiar expression on his face.

Wen Chan: "Hmm?"

"Your Highness, it is Consort Xu," Cheng Xuan said softly. "I heard she offended the Virtuous Consort this morning and was ordered to kneel outside to reflect on her misdeeds."

Wen Chan: "..."

The climate in the palace was truly ever-changing. The moment some trouble arose in the favored consort's family, everyone was already there to kick her while she was down.

But given her words at court today, combined with her observation of the Emperor's attitude, the Virtuous Consort had probably made her move too early. She might even suffer a great fall against this very wall.

Xu Yingluo knelt on the hard bluestone tiles. The biting cold pierced her knees like a knife. It was painful, but her body was already too numb to move. The young palace maid serving her, Jinling, tried her best to block the wind for her with her sleeve, but it was useless. Frost had formed on her eyelashes and eyebrows. Through the tiny slits of her eyes, she could see footsteps pass by from time to time, yet no one dared to linger by her side.

Yesterday, she was a precious peony, adored by all like the moon surrounded by stars. Today, she was no different from the slush on the steps, to be trampled on by anyone.

But in truth, this situation was not unfamiliar to her. Before she met Xu Zhaoyun, the winters in Pingjing had always been this cruel.

Back then, she was still very young, thin and small. Unable to play the zither or dance to please the guests, she was assigned to wash clothes in the songstress house. The water was bone-chillingly cold, and her hands hurt just as they did now. The tears and snot froze on her face. All sorts of people came and went, all of them laughing. Thankfully, no one noticed she was crying.

Xu Zhaoyun had once tried his best to describe to her how magnificent and luxurious life in the palace was—that if she gained the Emperor's favor, she would lead a lavish life of fine clothes and exquisite food. Xu Yingluo actually found it hard to imagine such scenes, let alone feel any longing for them. But what could she do? It was Xu Zhaoyun's wish. He was the one who pulled her out of the snowy mire. Everything she possessed now was a reward Xu Zhaoyun had given her in advance for that beautiful dream.

To avoid returning to the snow, she allowed Xu Zhaoyun to dress her up and decorate her, following his arrangements step by step toward the supreme sovereign. In the end, a fake phoenix truly could not last long. A gust of wind blew her back to her original form.

From beginning to end, she was just a sparrow that couldn't fly high or far, struggling to survive, trapped in the harsh winter.

A pair of black boots stopped beside her for a moment, then promptly walked away. Her ears were filled with the sound of the wind, and she couldn't hear what they said, but she could guess. They were probably scared away by the Virtuous Consort's name.

But before long, the pair of black boots returned. This time, however, they cautiously landed behind someone—it was a pair of cloud-toed slippers, almost completely free of dust, supporting the hem of a purple brocade skirt. Even the snow that landed on it was clean.

Was it one of the consorts from the inner palace?

She thought sluggishly. Then, a clean, slender hand came down and brushed the accumulated snow from her eyebrows and eyes, followed by a sigh-like, soft voice of comfort: "Don't cry, your tears have frozen."

...I was noticed?

Her vision was blurry, her ears were ringing, and her hands and feet were frozen numb. Yet her sense of smell was surprisingly sharp, and she caught the faint fragrance from the person's sleeve.

Xu Yingluo had studied perfumery at home and was familiar with most spices, but for a moment she found it difficult to describe this scent. It was as if it were sandalwood buried in snow, or like a vast field of fresh flowers burned to ash.

Wen Chan lowered her gaze to look at Xu Yingluo's face, which was pale with a hint of blue from the cold but still astonishingly beautiful. Although it wasn't the first time she had seen her, she was still unexpectedly stunned by her beauty.

At this time, she was about the same age as Wen Chan. She had not yet developed the proud and dazzling beauty that would come from countless favors later. Her face still held a touch of childishness, her eyes were bright and clear, and when she looked at someone, she had the innocent expression of a small animal.

Pei Rusong's eyes weren't as large as hers, lacking that natural charm, but they were more elegant and slender... Wen Chan thought of his face, and somewhat sheepishly withdrew her hand, pretending she hadn't done anything. She unhurriedly ordered, "Get up. You've been kneeling long enough. Don't fall ill from the cold."

Xu Yingluo's maid, Jinling, nearly burst into tears. She scrambled to help her up. "Consort, Consort, we can go back now..."

Suddenly, a weight sank in her hands. She failed to support Xu Yingluo and cried out in alarm, watching helplessly as she lost consciousness and fell forward uncontrollably... right into the arms that Princess Chiming extended in the nick of time.

Wen Chan: "Ah."

Everyone: "..."

The Princess's first reaction was to look at the people behind her. "You all bear witness, she fell down on her own!"

Feixing covered her mouth with her sleeve, feigning surprise. "But you touched her face just now."

Xianyun nodded. "You did touch her face."

Cheng Xuan confirmed: "You touched her."

Wen Chan: "..."