Chapter 1

“So, I’m supposed to find him?”

Late spring, with blossoms ten miles wide.

Beyond the city of Chang’an, peach and plum trees were in full bloom. Petals, as white as snow, fluttered onto Qujiang Pond, drifting lazily upon the water.

Occasionally, golden-red carp would break through the petals, leaping into the sunlight and tracing brilliant arcs in the air.

The warm sunlight spilled onto a small boat at the center of the pond, illuminating the porcelain-like face of a young girl seated within.

She sat by the window, resting her chin on one hand. Twirling a tea cup in the other, she mumbled softly into the air, as if talking to herself.

Her long eyelashes fluttered, shimmering with specks of golden light, swaying gently.

A voice, unheard by anyone but her, answered: “Yes, you must find him.”

Yun Miao sighed. “But I don’t even know his name.”

She set the porcelain cup into the bamboo basket beside her, lifted her skirt with its intertwined colors, and adjusted the draped silk shawl around her. Sitting cross-legged on the mat like a curious maiden, she pulled aside the beaded curtain to peek outside.

It was the third day of the third lunar month, the Shangsi Festival. Qujiang Pond was bathed in spring radiance. Nobles and officials were hosting lavish banquets, their vibrant pavilions lining the shores. The water was crowded with pleasure boats, their sails forming colorful clouds. The roads were filled with flower-adorned carriages, and streams of people bustled about.

Nearly all the noblewomen of Chang’an had come out to enjoy the day, either to admire the flowers, play drinking games by the water, or compose poetry.

And Yun Miao… Yun Miao was looking for someone.

She was searching for a man called “The White-Haired Old Man,” the story’s antagonist.

… It had been half a month since Yun Miao found herself inside this book, yet she hadn’t even caught a glimpse of this man.

Yes, unfortunately, she was a transmigrator.

One late night, she had been engrossed in a wuxia romance novel called Snow Over Chang’an. Before finishing it, she fell asleep and woke up to find herself transformed into a minor cannon-fodder character whose name wasn’t even mentioned in the original story.

Bound to a mostly useless system, she was told she could return home if she completed its tasks.

The system’s first mission: find the novel’s main antagonist.

Just find someone—it sounded simple enough.

But the problem was, she hadn’t finished reading the book!

… Which meant she had no idea who the antagonist really was.

The villain in the novel went by the ominous moniker “The White-Haired Old Man” and worked as a broker in the underworld.

A broker in the martial world acted as a middleman between assassins and their clients. Clients would post bounties, assassins would collect the reward, and the broker would earn a commission for facilitating the deal.

This particular broker, “The White-Haired Old Man,” repeatedly plotted to have the protagonists killed and orchestrated chaos in both the imperial court and the martial world, all while keeping his true identity hidden. He was a sinister villain operating behind the scenes.

Based on her limited memories of the story, this man had a dual identity, straddling both the martial world and the imperial court. His role as a broker was just a cover, and his real position was within the palace.

And judging by the name “White-Haired Old Man,” he should be elderly, with white hair, and look quite aged.

Great. With these criteria in mind, she began her search.

… However, there were at least a thousand people in the palace who fit this description.

Yun Miao sighed inwardly.

… Heaven knew how hard it was to fish a villain out of such a vast sea of people.

She ruffled her hair, propped her elbow on her knee, and rested her chin in her hand as her gaze swept across the pond. She carefully examined the faces of the noble youths playing drinking games on the boats, trying to discern any clues.

“Ah Miao.”

Just then, a soft, gentle voice came from behind her. “Did you spot a young man who catches your eye?”

Yun Miao sighed again in her heart.

She turned back, putting on a sweet and obedient smile with a faint dimple at the corner of her lips. Then, tugging at her hair and pouting in frustration, she replied, “Mother, I don’t like any of those young men.”

She had a pair of beautiful almond-shaped eyes, their tails curving upward slightly. When she smiled, they looked sweet; when she drooped them in discontent, they appeared listless, evoking an urge to comfort her.

“How could you not like even one of them?”

Madam Mu sounded a little exasperated as she gently pulled Yun Miao’s hand and sat with her by the edge of the boat. Together, they gazed out at the pond. “Let me help you take a look.”

“Alright,” Yun Miao chirped, tilting her face upward. She allowed Madam Mu to fix her tousled hair as she responded sweetly.

“You’re already eighteen, not a little girl anymore. It’s time for you to marry.”

As she combed Yun Miao’s hair, Madam Mu chattered on, “You’ve had a hard time in the past. I must find you a good husband, one worthy of sending you off in a grand wedding. Only then can I be at peace…”

While giving absentminded nods, Yun Miao’s gaze returned to the boats on the pond. She continued scanning for any trace of the hidden villain.

The gentle woman beside her was her “mother” in this world, Madam Mu. She was the wife of Yun Cheng, Minister of Revenue, and the sole matriarch of the Yunchuan Yun clan.

Their “reunion” had occurred shortly after Yun Miao transmigrated here. Yun Cheng and Madam Mu had wept with joy upon seeing her, embracing her tightly and declaring that she was their long-lost daughter, separated during a war in Shu over a decade ago and finally reunited in Chang’an.

While being hugged tightly, Yun Miao had looked up in bewilderment to see a young man standing behind them. He smiled silently at her, his lashes fluttering with a hint of slyness hidden in the shimmer of light.

It was this young man who had brought her to the Yun household.

The day she arrived here was also during late spring, when the peach and plum blossoms were in full bloom.

Yun Miao had fallen from a peach tree—straight into a group of bandits roasting meat beneath it.

… Heaven knew how she ended up with such terrible luck.

Had she not encountered this young man, Yun Miao might have gone down in history as the quickest transmigrator to meet her demise.

When she fell, she landed right on him. Startled, she rubbed her head as she sat up, only realizing afterward that she was sitting on someone.

At the time, she had thought she was still dreaming.

The young man under her groaned softly, lifting his head slightly. The sunlight, golden and dazzling, poured into his jet-black eyes, speckled with starlight and reflecting her startled expression.

In his arms, Yun Miao raised her face. He looked about sixteen or seventeen, dressed in a flowing dark crimson robe of fine brocade. His thick black hair was tied with a small jade clasp, the long ribbons trailing down and ending in a piece of lustrous white jade.

The rich, opulent silk fabric further accentuated his jade-like features and flawless skin, his eyebrows and eyes exquisite as if crafted by a meticulous painter. His bone structure was ethereal, resembling a celestial being descended to earth, yet his pristine aura was softened by the refined gentility of a noble young master from an aristocratic family.

“So good-looking!” Yun Miao exclaimed instinctively.

This was a normal reaction for any beauty enthusiast when faced with someone excessively attractive.

“Miss,” the young man tilted his head to look at her. Despite being pinned down, he maintained a polite smile. “Could you please get off me?”

His voice was as clear and refreshing as a mountain spring, cascading down and scattering like pearls and jade.

“Apologies, apologies,” Yun Miao murmured, snapping out of her daze.

Just as she was about to get up, a burly man grabbed her like a chicken, lifting her to the side. Then, several bandits tied her up tightly with a rope and tossed her next to the young man under the tree.

“I wonder how much they’ll fetch,” one bandit muttered, tearing off a piece of roasted meat. “These two look like pampered rich kids who can’t do much heavy work—not worth a lot.”

“If they’re worthless, just kill them!” another bandit growled, ripping a chicken leg with his teeth.

Yun Miao shivered where she sat, tied up.

“This must be a dream,” she muttered to herself, fumbling to pinch her wrist hard. “…Doesn’t hurt. So, it’s definitely a dream, right?”

“You pinched me,” the young man beside her commented with a smile.

“Sorry, sorry.”

Yun Miao asked in a small voice, “Did you get tied up too?”

“I came out for some fun and ended up getting caught by bandits,” the young man said with a helpless sigh. After a pause, he asked abruptly, “What’s your name?”

The question came so suddenly that Yun Miao instinctively answered, “Yun Miao.”

“Yun Miao…”

He repeated her name softly, seeming to ponder something. Then he asked, “Is it the ‘Yun’ from the Yun clan of Yin Chuan?”

Yun Miao had no idea what the Yun clan of Yin Chuan was.

“It’s the ‘Yun’ of a cloud,” she replied earnestly.

“It’s the first time I’ve heard someone from the Yun clan of Yin Chuan introduce themselves like that,” the young man chuckled lightly, seemingly amused. After a moment of thought, he added, “I’ve heard that Minister Yun from the Ministry of Revenue has a long-lost daughter who shares your name. I wonder if it’s a coincidence.”

“It must be a coincidence!” Yun Miao shook her head like a rattle drum. “My father, he…”

“If Minister Yun could reunite with his daughter, he would be overjoyed,” the young man interrupted as though he didn’t care for her explanation. Turning to her, he continued, “You resemble Madam Yun by eighty percent. You’re likely their daughter. I could take you to the Yun mansion, and you could truly become the daughter of the Minister of Revenue.”

Yun Miao wondered: In this dream, was she set up as the long-lost daughter of some Minister Yun?

Before she could say anything, the young man beside her smiled gently. He suddenly leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, his breath brushing her earlobe: “Shall we exchange secrets?”

“What kind of secrets?” Yun Miao blinked.

“I’ll keep a secret for you, and you’ll keep one for me,” the young man said, his tone clear yet laced with a subtle coaxing undertone. “Perhaps you’re not truly the minister’s daughter, but no one else but me will know.”

“And my secret…”

He chuckled softly. “Everything that happens here today, besides you, no one else will know.”

Yun Miao froze, her reaction delayed. Before she could process it, the young man raised his head and smiled politely at the surrounding bandits.

“Gentlemen,” he began courteously, “I have a small proposal.”

“What could a young master like you possibly propose?”

The bandit leader stood up, waving a three-foot-long blade menacingly. “Falling into our hands, your head’s just a chop away.”

“Killing me would be pointless, and selling me wouldn’t fetch much either,” the young man replied calmly. “However, I’ve heard that the Nanqi Gang in the east of the city is recruiting members recently. The initiation test requires capturing a noble young master alive. Why not offer me as a tribute and use this chance to join Nanqi?”

Yun Miao blinked.

The name Nanqi Gang… sounded somewhat familiar.

“Is that really happening?”

The bandit leader hesitated, scratching the back of his head. “We’ve wanted to join Nanqi for a while…”

His eyes glinted, and he raised his blade, pressing it against the young man’s neck. “Why would a captured young master willingly suggest being handed to Nanqi?”

“Spare my life.”

The young man lifted his head, his face pure and innocent, his gaze sincere and guileless. “I won’t survive in your hands anyway, but I might have a slim chance with Nanqi. I only wish to live.”

The bandit leader considered this for a moment before lowering his weapon slightly. He fixed the young man with a stern glare and asked, “How do we offer a tribute to Nanqi?”

“That’s a secret, not to be revealed to too many people,” the young man replied with a slight nod. “Please, come closer, and I’ll tell you.”

The bandit leader hesitated briefly. Perhaps thinking the young man posed no threat, he leaned in to listen.

What he heard was a faint chuckle, sharp and cold like a knife slicing through the wind.

A sudden chill grazed his neck. Before he could react, the blade in the young man’s hand had already slit his throat. Blood arced through the air like a vivid ribbon, and in an instant, his body crumpled to the ground.

“Draw your weapons! Draw your weapons!” the remaining bandits shouted in panic, scrambling to stand.

But it was already too late. The young man moved like a shadow, his crimson sleeves sweeping like flowing silk. The sound of steel slicing through flesh was swift and merciless, accompanied by splatters of blood that dyed the fallen blossoms on the ground as dark as spilled wine.

Amidst the rain of petals and blood, the young man turned, his robe billowing like the wings of a phoenix. In his hand was a blade, its transparent edge shimmering faintly as droplets of blood slid off its tip.

Yun Miao sat frozen. In the fleeting moment she failed to even blink, the ground had become a field of corpses.

The young man turned back, smiling faintly in the bloody aftermath.

He raised his eyes, meeting hers, and chuckled softly. “That’s my secret.”