Chapter 1 She Doesn’t Want to Die

Chapter 1 She Didn’t Want to Die

The Lantern Festival was in full swing under a light snowfall. The thirteen heavenly streets stretching from the Vermilion Bird Gate were ablaze with lights.

Had anyone stood atop the imperial observatory within the palace walls, they would have witnessed the rising human prosperity aura melding with the dazzling lanterns, forming intricate patterns that illuminated the heavens and awed the land. Beneath the lingering glow of these patterns, the demons and monsters lurking in the shadows scattered in panic.

Some of these supernatural beings desperately sought to flee the city, while others, even at the cost of their lives, charged inward.

The city gates, which should have been closed at the beginning of the first watch of the evening, remained wide open. The guards, their minds wandering, kept glancing toward the thirteen heavenly streets, wondering if they could still make it to the festival with their families after their shift.

In their distraction, a shadow flickered past. The nine dragon lanterns hanging above the gate dimmed for a moment, and when they brightened again, not a trace of the shadow remained within their glow.

Only a few dark droplets of blood were left in the shadows beneath the gate.

Meanwhile, a slender girl in a thin white dress stood alone by the side gate of the Marquis of Jinyang’s residence. Fine snowflakes dusted her lashes, veiling the anxiety in her eyes.

The gatekeeper had left for nearly a quarter-hour before returning in haste, followed by a stern-looking middle-aged woman.

The woman frowned at the sight of Ji Chan and stepped forward, her tone icy. "First Miss, what brings you here?"

"Matron Qian, today is Father’s birthday. I just wanted to—"

Before she could finish, Matron Qian cut her off impatiently. "First Miss, you know full well it’s the Marquis’s birthday. Why come here to disturb him? Do you mean to ruin his celebration?"

Ji Chan stiffened, then replied softly, "I only wish to see Father and speak a few words with him."

"Unnecessary. You’d do well to remember your place. You have no ties to this household—the Marquis will not see you." With that, she turned to leave, only to be met by a round-faced maid.

Ji Chan recognized her—she was the personal maid of the current Lady Xue. Her name seemed to be Chunhe.

Chunhe approached the two, gave Ji Chan a once-over, then asked Matron Qian, "What’s going on here, Matron Qian?"

Matron Qian put on a strained smile. "It’s just the First Miss insisting on seeing the Marquis. As if His Lordship has time for her now."

"I see." Chunhe gave a sidelong look at Ji Chan before speaking. "The Marquis is indeed busy today, but I can take the young lady inside and announce her. If the Marquis refuses to see her, she may at least catch a glimpse of him and offer a bow. That should suffice to honor their years of father-daughter bond. Would that be acceptable?"

Ji Chan bit her lower lip, though she felt no pain, and heard herself answer, "Yes."

Chunhe smiled, then turned to Matron Qian with sudden sharpness. "The First Miss of this household is our young lady, not some outsider. You’d do well to be more careful in the future, Matron Qian."

"Of course, of course! This old servant’s mind must be failing her." Matron Qian bowed repeatedly, not daring to say more.

Ji Chan watched in silence, still unable to comprehend how she had come to this.

Just over ten days ago, she had been the Marquis of Jinyang’s trueborn eldest daughter. Then, without warning, a woman claiming to be her mother’s personal maid from eighteen years ago appeared, claiming that Ji Chan was not the Marquis’s blood but the bastard daughter of the deceased Marchioness’s illicit affair.

Her father had initially dismissed the accusation, ordering the so-called maid driven away—until Lady Xue intervened, urging him to uncover the truth to preserve the late Marchioness’s reputation.

First, they verified the maid’s identity. Then, guided by her, they located the midwife who had delivered Ji Chan. The midwife swore that though Ji Chan had been born prematurely, she showed no signs of it.

With just a few slanders from these questionable witnesses, her father’s expression darkened.

He never considered that her mother’s early delivery had been caused by the shock of learning he had been ambushed during his military campaign.

Later, they somehow produced servants who had once worked from her maternal grandfather’s household—before its downfall—who swore they had witnessed her mother meeting a man in secret before marriage.

Like actors in a play, they took turns with their accusations, each word effortlessly defiling her mother’s good name after death.

And Ji Chan, the Marquis’s legitimate daughter, became proof of her mother’s infidelity.

Five days ago, she was banished from the household. Before leaving, Lady Xue had looked down at her and declared that her father, out of gratitude for years of upbringing, would not pursue the matter further—but Ji Chan must never forget the Marquis’s mercy.

Ji Chan could never accept such a blight upon her mother’s honor. She had hoped that today, her father’s birthday—a day her mother had always celebrated with him—he might recall their bond and reinvestigate the matter.

Chunhe led her to the garden corridor to wait before heading toward the brightly lit festivities.

Gazing at the distant lanterns, Ji Chan suddenly remembered last year, when the garden had also been decked with lanterns, and her mother had humored her by joining her in solving riddles.

A mere year later, her grandfather’s family had been exiled, her mother had died of illness, and she stood waiting for permission to be received into the household.

After a moment’s hesitation, Ji Chan stepped toward the lights. As she drew closer, the sound of women’s laughter grew clearer.

She halted by an artificial hill, catching sight of her father with Lady Xue and her two children, solving lantern riddles.

Xue Zhao stood to her father’s left, holding a lantern.

Xue Ying stood to his right, even clinging affectionately to his arm.

The four of them laughed and chatted before the lanterns, with Xue Ying addressing him as "Father" as if they were truly family.

Family?

Ji Chan’s chest tightened. She stared fixedly at Xue Zhao and Xue Ying beside her father.

She had rarely interacted with Lady Xue’s children before and thus never noticed—but now, their profiles mirrored his strikingly. Especially Xue Zhao.

And why else would Lady Xue allow Xue Ying to be so intimate with her father unless they were truly his children?

At last, she understood why Lady Xue had been able to enter the household barely three months after her mother’s death—and why she had brought her two children with her.

Perhaps she should also question whether her mother’s sudden, fatal illness after her grandfather’s exile had truly been of natural causes.

A gnawing cold seeped into Ji Chan’s bones. She realized she might never have truly known her father.

As a child, whenever she asked him to play, he had always claimed to be busy. But it wasn’t that he had no time—it was that his affection wasn't meant for her.

Ji Chan turned away, retreated the way she came in silence.

All the words she had prepared on the way here evaporated. What was left to say? The accusations against her mother might well have been crafted by her father's own hand, for Lady Xue’s sake.

About fifteen minutes after Ji Chan left, Chunhe returned to the corridor to find her gone.

A quick inquiry at the gate confirmed she had already departed.

Chunhe relayed the news in a whisper to Lady Xue, who was watching her daughter solve riddles from a gazebo. With a glance, Lady Xue whispered instructions to her eldest son, Xue Zhao, who promptly excused himself.

Ji Chan stepped beyond the Marquis of Jinyang’s residence and turned to look at its closed crimson gates. At last, her shoulders slumped.

She asked herself: What good did it do to speculate at these so-called truths? What could she do?

Her grandfather and uncles, who might have stood up for her, had been exiled. Her mother was gone. She was alone.

Even if she proclaimed the truth throughout the capital, who would believe her? She had no proof.

The snow fell heavier now.

Like a walking corpse, Ji Chan moved mechanically through the bustling crowds. Her thin clothing left her limbs numb with cold, yet she plodded forward, numb, toward Changping District.

Since her expulsion, she had lived in a modest shopfront there—one her mother had given her just last year.

When she left the Marquis' estate, they didn't allow her to take a single item that belonged to her mother. If not for that shop being legally put in her name through the authorities, she might not even have a place to stay now.

Changping neighborhood was more than half an hour's walk from the Marquis' estate. Fortunately, it was the Lantern Festival today, and there was no curfew.

Ji Chan crossed the brightly lit and bustling Tianjie, then passed through Yongping District, gradually leaving behind the clamor of voices until all she could hear was the crunch-crunch of snow underfoot.

At some point, the white snow had covered the ground completely. The long road bore only her footprints.

The farther she walked toward Changping neighborhood, the sparser the lights became. Luckily, the snow tonight illuminated the path beneath her feet.

Just Anping District stood between her and Changping now. Ji Chan paused to rest, she blew into her cupped hands, trying to warm her nearly numb fingers.

After a brief respite, she continued toward Changping. As she passed by a narrow alley, she suddenly heard heavy breathing—close by, as if coming from within the alley, like some beast's panting.

Before she could process it, a sharp shriek tore through the night. From a nearby residence, a terrifying sound erupted, followed by several figures leaping into the air, steel flashing in the moonlight.

Ji Chan heard someone shout, "The fiend flees eastward!"

East of that residence was exactly where Ji Chan stood. Panicked and unsure what to do, she felt a stinking gust rush at her from behind.

Then came arrows streaking like falling stars. One pierced straight through her chest from behind before she could even react.

The next moment, the demon changed direction, fleeing southward, and the pursuers in the distance followed.

As she lay on the ground, Ji Chan faintly saw a figure holding a bow pause briefly on a rooftop, seemingly looking in her direction.

She heard someone say, "Lord Xue, the demon seems to have escaped..."

The figure vanished in an instant.

Ji Chan lay sprawled on the ground, the agony threatened to swallow her whole. The surname Xue... So they never intended for her to live. But she didn’t want to die.

Her fingers dug into the dirt as she dragged herself forward, her mind blank. She didn’t know what purpose this served, but she refused to give up.

She didn’t know how long she crawled. The pain seemed to fade, but she was already too weak to even breathe.

As darkness from the alley enveloped her, she lifted her head with great effort—only to meet a pair of blood-red beastly eyes.