Chapter One: Fate

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As the evening lights began to glow, beside Yong’an Street.

Gu Yan pressed his sword against the neck of a black-clad man, his thin lips curving lightly. “Since you are a deathsworn, I shall make your death a little more interesting.”

“Axiao, cut his flesh and let him bleed. Watch carefully. Don’t let him take his own life. Even if a deathsworn is to die, he must die by my hand.”

Leaning against a tree, Gu Yan listened to the chorus of agonized screams before him. He closed his eyes and savored the moment, then stepped toward the nearest deathsworn. Without hesitation, he raised his sword and drove it once more into the man’s wound, drawing another scream.

“Hush, enough with the noise. You’re annoying me. Tell me, who sent you? Are you here to find someone, or is all this chaos just a smokescreen for something else?” Gu Yan didn’t wait for a reply. He smiled, then began to twist the sword in the wound. The man’s screams came one after another until at last, pain robbed him of consciousness.

Gu Yan rose and walked to another deathsworn. Seeing the man’s body tremble, he chuckled. “You’re afraid of me?”

“Good. Let me guess.” As he spoke, his sword once more pierced a wound.

“Was it the Fifth Prince? Oh, that can’t be—he’s still an infant. Then it must be the Third Prince, am I right?” The sword began to twist again.

“Answer me, and I might grant you mercy.” Though Gu Yan smiled, his eyes brimmed with venom.

At last, one of the men pleaded, “I’ll talk! Please, don’t torture me. It was—it was the Third Prince! He’s searching for someone carrying a secret message, but only told us to create panic. The rest wasn’t our concern. Spare me, I’ve told you everything I know!”

Gu Yan’s expression remained indifferent as he curled his lips. With a swift motion, he ended the man’s life without spilling a single drop of blood.

He wiped his hands with a handkerchief. “Kill them all.”

The moon rose higher, casting its light before Yong’an Street.

“Young lady, do not go any further.”

The avenue was lined with teahouses and taverns, the cries of street vendors echoing ceaselessly from all sides. Though dusk had fallen, the approach of Mid-Autumn meant the street was still bustling with crowds, lively and noisy. Yet amid the clamor, Shen Qiuning heard the voice beside her with startling clarity. She turned to see an elderly man, dressed in rags, hunched on the ground. He resembled a beggar, but at his side lay fortune-telling sticks and other tools of the trade. Clearly, he made his living as a fortune-teller, and now he was staring at her with grave intensity.

“Sir, are you speaking to me?” Shen Qiuning crouched down.

She wore a white brocade gown, and now, as she lowered herself, her hem gathered dust. Yet she paid it no mind, showing not a trace of daintiness.

Behind her, her maid Mingyue tugged at her sleeve. “Miss, it’s getting late. And what if that ragged old man is up to no good? We should hurry. If we’re any later, Xiangfu Teahouse will close.”

“Mingyue, never judge by appearances,” Shen Qiuning said sternly.

The Shen family was a family of generals, and from a young age, Shen Qiuning had been taught that everyone, rich or poor, deserved respect. Judging others by their looks was strictly forbidden. Though the old man’s clothes were tattered, he neither stole nor robbed; he earned his living by his own skill. What shame was there in that? Mingyue realized her words were inappropriate and bowed to apologize to the old man.

The old man smiled kindly at Mingyue. “No matter, young lady. Don’t trouble yourself.”

He then turned to Shen Qiuning. “Fate brings all meetings. Young lady, do not go any further. If you do, your pleasure may turn to sorrow. Why not let me divine your fortune here?”

Though Shen Qiuning didn’t believe in ghosts or spirits, she did believe in fate and reincarnation. Looking at the old man’s ragged attire, she thought there was no harm in a reading—it would be an act of charity. She handed the old man a silver ingot and nodded. “Sir, then please trouble yourself to cast a fortune for me.”

The old man studied her face for a moment, then asked her to raise her right hand. He examined it, then said, “The wheel of fate turns and destiny manifests. Blessings and misfortunes are set by the heavens, and the outcome is already ordained. Through lifetimes uncounted, neither you nor I can change it. Flowers in the mirror, moon in the water—illusion in the end. Again and again, it all comes down to one word: entrapment. Your life is fraught with calamities. To break free, you must rely on yourself. Yet I see kindness in your heart, so I will gift you this talisman. If ever you are faced with confusion, burn this charm and you will find me again at the Temple of Causality.”

Knowing her fate was not smooth, Shen Qiuning understood the old man’s meaning and asked, “Can you tell me how to break the impasse?”

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“The secrets of heaven cannot be revealed. But I will give you one word—the heart of the matter is ‘love’. That’s all I can say. Take your leave, young lady. We will meet again, and then you may understand more. Remember, a mortal cannot peer into your fate.”

Shen Qiuning understood the custom and did not press further. She thanked him and returned home.

Why had he spoken of lifetimes, and why did he mention only entrapment? What was to happen to her, or perhaps to her family? What calamity did he foresee? And if there was a calamity, how could she break the trap? Would her fate truly be as the old man described? Shen Qiuning gazed at the talisman in her hand, lost in thought. Was destiny truly unchangeable?

“Miss, are you not going to buy the pastries ahead? Surely you don’t actually believe that roadside fortune-teller?” Mingyue’s voice brought Shen Qiuning back to herself.

“If you believe, it’s real; if you don’t, it’s nothing. But what if something really does happen ahead? Perhaps we’ve escaped a calamity. And it’s not so important—we can buy the pastries another day.” Shen Qiuning was uneasy the whole way home, the old man’s words weighing on her mind. She resolved to be more cautious in the days to come, so she could handle whatever might arise with composure.

At the gates of the Shen residence, Madam Shen was anxiously waiting. As soon as the carriage arrived, she rushed over, pulling Shen Qiuning close, looking her over before hugging her tightly, her voice trembling with tears. “My precious Ning’er, thank goodness you’re safe. You nearly scared me to death. You’re my only child—I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

“What’s wrong, Mother? I’m perfectly fine.” Shen Qiuning was spun around several times, bewildered.

The maid beside Madam Shen explained, “Miss, Madam heard that there were some ruffians on the street where you went to buy pastries. They smashed stalls and even killed someone. Madam was worried when you didn’t return for so long—she thought something had happened to you. She even sent the General out to search for you.”

“Ning’er!” A deep voice boomed behind them, startling Madam Shen.

Shen Mu Nian had taken a dozen men to search to no avail. He’d planned to send more after returning, only to find his daughter at the gate. He hurriedly dismounted and spun Shen Qiuning around twice more, relieved to see her unharmed. Now dizzy from all the spinning, Shen Qiuning quickly protested, “Alright, alright, Father, Mother, I didn’t go to that street. On the way, I ran into a fortune-teller, which delayed me. When I thought of going, it was already late, so I just came home.”

“A fortune-teller?” Madam Shen was puzzled and about to ask more, but Shen Qiuning pouted, “Oh, I’m so hungry. Let’s go eat, shall we?”

At the mention of hunger, Madam Shen let her questions go and hurried to have the kitchen prepare the meal.

After dinner, Shen Qiuning sent someone to investigate the incident. The group of ruffians had been searching for someone, acting on orders to leave no witnesses if they found their target. It was Gu Yan who led men to capture them. They were all deathsworn. Shen Qiuning pondered a while. Though it was evening and the city was lively with the festival approaching, for them to cause such a stir, it couldn’t be merely a manhunt—it was likely a ploy to sow fear. But their true objective remained unclear.

“Gu Yan? The son of General Gu?” Shen Qiuning mumbled the name as if recalling something, but could not summon his face to mind. She must never have met him.

“Shen Qiuning!” Shen Mu Nian, though relieved that his daughter had not gone to that street, feared she might yet be frightened by the day’s events. He went to comfort her, but just as he was about to knock, he overheard his daughter muttering about the son of his old nemesis. Forgetting all decorum, he shouted for Shen Qiuning to come out, startling Madam Shen so badly she spilled the bowl of hot soup she was carrying.

Madam Shen, worried for her daughter, had personally made the soup and was bringing it herself. Now the soup was spilled and she’d been frightened twice in one night. She would not let Shen Mu Nian off so easily. Marching up behind him, she gave him a swift kick. Having been startled twice, she would not be appeased otherwise.

“What is it now!” Shen Qiuning opened the door at her father’s shout, only to see him topple inside.

“Ah!” Shen Mu Nian, caught off guard by the kick, cried out.

Shen Qiuning’s voice and his cry rang out together. As it happened, she had opened the door just as Madam Shen kicked. Something tumbled in, and she dodged aside, only for her father to fall flat on the floor.

Seeing it was her father, Shen Qiuning quickly helped him up. As soon as he was on his feet, Shen Mu Nian shouted, “Who! Who kicked me?”

He turned to see Madam Shen standing, arms crossed in anger, with a spilled bowl of soup at her feet. The air froze for a moment before erupting.

“Shen Mu Nian! If you dare shout again, just you try! So what if I kicked you? I’ve been startled twice tonight because of you! Do you take me for a mouse? If you shout one more time, don’t set foot in my rooms again!” Though she wasn’t yelling, Madam Shen’s tone was full of fury. Shen Qiuning shivered, silently praying for her father.

Madam Shen came from the wealthiest merchant family in Jiangnan—a household of great standing. With features as delicate and gentle as any southern beauty, her name bespoke softness and fragility. Yet Cui Wanyun’s temperament was fierce, enough to subdue the most powerful general in the empire. While other men of rank took multiple wives and concubines, General Shen shared his life with only her—a union that inspired much envy.

“Heh, so it’s my lady wife. My backside was made for you to kick, not a problem at all. Don’t be angry, come inside, come inside.” Seeing it was Madam Shen, Shen Mu Nian quickly put on a fawning smile and tried to placate her.

Shen Qiuning shook her head, speechless at her father’s obsequiousness.

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The three sat down together, and Shen Qiuning asked, “Father, Mother, what did you need from me?”

“Your mother was worried you wouldn’t sleep well tonight, so she brought you some hot soup. Who knew your foolish father would scare her into spilling it?” Madam Shen glared at Shen Mu Nian as she spoke.

Shen Qiuning couldn’t help but laugh. She hadn’t even gone to that street, yet her parents were acting as if she’d survived a great disaster. She turned to her father, “So, are you here to bring soup as well?”

General Shen gave a snort. “Of course not. I came to tell you that Mid-Autumn is in a few days. His Majesty will hold a banquet at the palace, and you are to come with us. Next year you’ll be of age to discuss marriage—you can see if there’s someone suitable among the guests.”

His snort had barely faded when his head received a resounding slap.

Every year, the emperor held a Mid-Autumn banquet in the palace, inviting only trusted ministers and their families—a grand family gathering, relaxed and informal, more like a childhood reunion. Shen Qiuning had always found it boring and uncomfortable, and hadn’t attended for years. Yet this year, General Shen had specifically come to tell her to go.

“Father, must I go?” She tried her usual charm, but it was to no avail.

“No, you must go this time. In previous years, I let you skip these gatherings, but this time, I beg you—go, please.” Though he started out stern, General Shen’s voice grew weaker as he pleaded.

Sensing something was off, Shen Qiuning pressed, “Tell me the real reason. It can’t just be about marriage prospects. You never let any man near me without glaring holes through him—why would you want me to discuss marriage now? There’s more to it!”

General Shen scratched his head and chuckled sheepishly. “Well, the other day I was drinking with some ministers. They all have sons, and I’m the only one with a daughter. I boasted that my Ning’er is the most beautiful girl in the capital. They didn’t believe me, since you’ve missed several banquets and they haven’t seen you. So I said you’d attend this year and amaze them all.”

Shen Qiuning was speechless. Madam Cui Wanyun looked at General Shen with equal disdain.

Shen Qiuning’s beauty was indeed renowned in the capital—a delicate, charming face, skin as fair as snow, brows like mist, eyes as captivating as hooks—every smile enchanting. A beauty mark beneath her eye lent her an extra touch of allure, her radiant grace tempered by a natural air of nobility.

Seeing his daughter and wife’s disapproval, General Shen put on a pitiful expression. “But I’ve already boasted! If you don’t go, they’ll mock me. It’s nothing if they tease me, but it would be unfair to you. What if they say you’re afraid to show yourself—how would that look? I couldn’t bear it!”

Faced with her father’s pitiful look, Shen Qiuning sighed and relented.

General Shen glanced at her, hesitated, then cleared his throat. “Ahem, Ning’er, though you’re of age, don’t be hasty with your affections. Don’t fall for just anyone—like that Gu Yan, son of Gu Wenting. His father is no good, and I doubt the son is any better. You’re still young—don’t lose your head!” He punctuated his words with a thump of the table.

“Huh?” Shen Qiuning was utterly baffled.

Cui Wanyun, seeing her husband’s impassioned stance, rolled her eyes, grabbed his ear, and dragged him out. “Shen Mu Nian, how many times have I told you to behave before our child? Now you’re pounding the table—soon you’ll bring the whole roof down!”

“Ah, my lady, I was wrong, I was wrong!” If Shen Mu Nian’s enemies saw him now, they’d die of laughter—this mighty general, so cowed by his wife.

“Ning’er, remember to close the windows and stay warm. We’re free to love whomever we wish—don’t listen to your father’s nonsense.” At the door, Madam Shen turned back to give a gentle reminder.

Shen Qiuning watched her parents—always bickering, always loving—and smiled. She wondered what her future husband would be like. Would they, too, quarrel and laugh together into old age?

Once her parents left, the courtyard fell silent again, save for the rustling of leaves outside the window. The yellowing leaves could no longer withstand the wind, drifting down in tatters like wilted petals. All would return to the earth, indistinguishable in the end. Blossoms fall, leaves wither—is there truly no difference in their fate? Or is it, as with all things, a matter of perspective? And what of love, that single word the old fortune-teller had spoken of—what did it foretell? Shen Qiuning, how will you play this game, and how will you break free…