The lingering chill of spring was rare, but today the snow had cleared, and the skies were bright.

On the bustling streets of the Imperial City, the snow that hadn’t yet melted was carefully shoveled and swept aside by young servants in green livery, clearing a broad path.

In the distance, a luxurious carriage approached with a soft creak. The vehicle, adorned with green curtains and pearl tassels, gleamed with treasures. Even the carriage itself was pure white, pulled by a horse so pristine it didn’t have a single blemish.

The servants on either side immediately set down their shovels and knelt in greeting.

Curious onlookers whispered among themselves. “Who could be inside that carriage? What kind of beauty could command such grandeur?”

“That,” someone replied, “is the daughter of Liu Qiu, the King of Wei Nan—Mistress Lingyun, Liu Ling. She came to our Imperial City just last year. She’s renowned as one of the city’s great beauties. They say anyone who sees her swears she’s a goddess descended to the mortal realm. But alas, she’s quite frail and can’t stand the wind. She’s beautiful, sure, but like a snow lotus blooming on a mountaintop—cold and unapproachable. If someone were to marry her, they’d just be bringing home an untouchable ice sculpture. What a waste.”

The speaker’s tone carried a hint of pity. After all, having such a beauty nearby, yet not being able to touch even a fingertip, was indeed tragic.

As the carriage rolled leisurely past, it left behind a faintly luxurious fragrance. It was hard to define—like cosmetics yet not, like incense yet elusive and ethereal, lingering faintly in the air.

“But if she’s so fragile and can’t be out in the wind, why is Mistress Lingyun out today?” someone else wondered aloud.

“She has an elder brother, Liu Chen. He was summoned from Wei Nan to the capital a year ago and granted the title of General of Jian Wei. He led the army to victory against the foreign Xiongnu. This year, he’s returning triumphantly. The siblings are famously close, so she’s probably here to greet him.”

“Oh, she’s the sister of Liu Chen, that young prodigy and General of Jian Wei!” The crowd buzzed with understanding.

Liu Chen’s exploits against the Xiongnu had already become the talk of the city. The crowd had gathered today, hoping for a glimpse of the famed general.

The carriage came to a halt three zhang (roughly 30 feet) from the city gates.

Two maids, graceful and dressed in white, stepped down, each holding a roll of pure white silk. They unfurled it, covering the ground from the carriage to the gate.

“What are they doing now?” muttered a bewildered onlooker. Yet curiosity got the better of them. If the maids were this beautiful, then Mistress Lingyun herself must surely be otherworldly.

“Mistress Lingyun has an extreme aversion to filth. Aside from her personal maids, she won’t let anyone touch her or her belongings. Rumor has it that when she visits someone, she brings her own tea set and clothes. When she gets home, she scrubs herself thoroughly, terrified of any contamination.”

The crowd was stunned. Such cleanliness was almost terrifying—truly a cold, untouchable beauty.

Inside the carriage, everything was blanketed in thick white fox fur, from the roof to the walls to the floor—a world of pure white. Amid this snowy expanse reclined a young woman.

She wore white clothes with a fox fur coat draped over her shoulders, her entire being blending seamlessly into the snowy surroundings. Her jet-black hair was loosely pinned up with a simple white hairpin, revealing delicate jade-like ears adorned with round white pearl earrings. They swayed gently against her graceful neck with every slight movement.

A chilly breeze swept in through the curtains, carrying a hint of light, which reflected on her porcelain-like skin, making it shimmer like crystal.

Her long lashes cast faint shadows over her slightly downcast eyes, and though her face was lightly powdered, it couldn’t hide her fragile, sickly beauty.

She raised a slender hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a cool and ethereal visage. Her brows furrowed slightly, as though troubled by some unseen worry.

“Mistress Lingyun.”

Hearing the gentle call from outside the carriage, Su Baiyue exhaled slowly, silently steeling herself.

Stay calm. Don’t panic.

She adjusted her expression, donned her veil hat, and carefully lifted her skirt as she stepped out of the carriage.

As the thick curtains lifted, a figure slowly emerged. Though her face was obscured by the veil, her delicate, ethereal figure and icy demeanor left the crowd utterly entranced.

Everything about her was pure white, save for the cascade of black hair flowing from beneath her veil. It was as if she had been sculpted from snow and frost.

The crowd held its breath, as though even their breathing might defile this celestial beauty.

Su Baiyue stepped onto the silk path, but before she could take another step, a figure collapsed at her feet.

It was a teenage boy, thin and ragged, with matted black hair and a body covered in wounds. His face was pressed to the ground, entirely obscured.

“How dare you!” scolded Jing Wen, Su Baiyue’s senior maid, her voice sharp and commanding. “Where did this filthy thing come from?”

A gust of wind swept by, stirring the snow clinging to the trees. Su Baiyue’s cloak and veil billowed, her long skirts and sleeves flaring dramatically. Her fragile frame appeared so slight that it seemed she might be carried away by the wind at any moment.

But what drew the most attention was the faint smudge of dirt the boy had left on her pristine cloak. On someone else, it might have gone unnoticed, but on her, it stood out like an unforgivable blemish.

The crowd stepped back in shock, wondering how Mistress Lingyun would punish this insolent boy.

“Dirty,” Su Baiyue uttered coldly, her voice clear and frosty. Yet beneath the icy tone was a hint of restrained softness, like the fleeting notes of a distant melody.

From within her wide sleeve emerged a flawless hand, so white it seemed translucent, with veins faintly visible beneath the skin.

With a swift motion, she untied her cloak and let it fall, the luxurious fabric settling over the boy like a shroud.

The boy stirred faintly, lifting his head with difficulty. Through his dark, wounded eyes, he saw the pure white cloak drape over him, carrying a faint, indistinct fragrance.

Su Baiyue lifted her skirt and stepped lightly over the boy’s head.

From his position on the ground, the boy’s breath caught. He clearly saw a figure in white glide past him, so pure it was otherworldly. Even the soles of her shoes were spotless, untouched by worldly dust. Beneath her veil, he glimpsed a pair of cherry lips—vivid and bright against her snow-white complexion, like dew on a ripened cherry.

Yet for some reason, he felt as though her legs had trembled slightly as she stepped over him.

Su Baiyue maintained her cold, aloof demeanor, as serene as a snow-capped peak. Inside, however, she was panicking. Her legs felt like jelly, and she had no idea what was happening anymore.

The boy she had just stepped over was none other than Lu Gan, the future demon king of the battlefield.

As the male lead, Lu Gan would one day rise as a warlord, overthrowing the royal family and conquering the frontier. He would eventually ascend the throne, becoming the first man to reunify the fractured lands since Qin Shi Huang.

Su Baiyue steadied herself, determined to stay composed.

In the original novel, the author had devoted paragraphs to describing Mistress Lingyun’s celestial grace as she stepped over the boy. But Su Baiyue dared not be so bold. With such a long skirt, ensuring it didn’t brush against him at all was no easy feat!

So, without compromising her elegance, she hiked her skirt up as high as she could.

While Su Baiyue was inwardly freaking out, the crowd only marveled at her extreme cleanliness. Such a precious cloak, discarded without a second thought—how could someone like her survive in such a filthy world?

Feeling that even their breathing sullied her presence, the crowd took another step back.

Jing Wen hurriedly draped a fresh cloak over Su Baiyue’s shoulders and ordered the servants to drag the boy away.

Covered in the white fox fur cloak, the boy was hauled off like a ragged stray dog.

At the city gates, the sound of hooves approached. Through the hazy veil of her hat, Su Baiyue saw Liu Chen, clad in armor and leading his troops, riding toward her.

Liu Chen and Liu Ling were full siblings. From Liu Chen’s handsome features, it was easy to imagine the stunning beauty of Liu Ling. Even though he was disheveled from the battlefield, his charisma was undeniable.

“Sister!” Liu Chen dismounted excitedly, eager to give his sister a bear hug, only to be stopped in his tracks by a white dust brush thrust out to hold him back.

That’s right. To keep people at a distance, Liu Ling always carried a white jade-handled dust brush. If anyone got too close, she’d jab them with it.

Jing Wen, ever prepared, had handed Su Baiyue the brush as soon as Liu Chen dismounted.

“Sister,” Liu Chen whined pitifully.

When had the little girl who used to cling to him and beg for hugs, kisses, and cuddles grown so distant?

“Let’s go home.” Her cool voice carried a touch of tenderness, the soft lilt tugging at one’s heartstrings.

If only I could pin such a woman beneath me…

“Shing!” A flash of steel interrupted the lecherous thoughts of a bystander. Before he could recover, a chunk of his hair fell to the ground.

“Look again, and next time, it’ll be your head,” Liu Chen warned coldly, exuding the fierce aura of a renowned young general.

The crowd scattered, no longer daring to linger.

Su Baiyue instinctively glanced back as she stepped onto the freshly laid white silk leading to her carriage. There was no sign of Lu Gan.

This was the first meeting between Mistress Lingyun and Lu Gan.

One as pure as the clouds, the other as lowly as the dust.

Love at first sight? Nonsense. Lu Gan was simply captivated by Mistress Lingyun’s beauty.

Even though she would later betray him to marry the crown prince, only to die young due to her frailty, she would forever remain his unattainable first love, the “white moonlight” of his heart.

Su Baiyue removed her veil and stared gloomily at the dust brush in her hands. Mistress Lingyun was practically a masterclass in how to stay single. Sure, she had a face like a perfectly tuned beauty filter on Tiktok, but her personality was a recipe for solitude!