Wei Yuanzhou · Chat

Wei Residence · Early Morning 5:45 AM. The sky was just beginning to brighten. A light snow had fallen silently last night. It had stopped now, leaving only a thin layer of white on the bluestone path. Several young maids each held a broom, the tips scratching against the ground with a soft rustle. "Have you heard? They searched every house in the North City last night." "They said they were looking for enemy spies—it was quite a commotion; the door of that flatbread shop on North Street was kicked in." "But no one would dare come to our Wei Residence to search." Before the words could fully land, the rumbling sound of a carriage came from the mouth of the alley. The maids fell silent at once, their brooms stopping mid-air as they all lowered their heads. The carriage stopped in front of the manor gates. An attendant lifted a corner of the curtain, and a moment later, a figure in black stepped out. Wei Yuanzhou. He was dressed more lightly than usual today, likely because he had left the palace in a hurry and didn't have time to add layers. Strands of hair still partially veiled his eyes, and there were faint dark circles beneath them—last night’s council in the palace had been long, with urgent reports from the north and a crisis in military funding. By the time he left the palace, dawn was already breaking. He stepped onto the thin snow, his boots making a faint crunching sound. The maids at the door lowered their heads even further, and the gatekeeper bowed. He didn't stop, only offering a brief "Mhm" in acknowledgment. Passing through the front courtyard, Wei Yuanzhou walked along the covered corridor. The early morning wind whistled through the gallery, carrying the damp cold of the post-snow air, creeping into his sleeves and seeping into his bones. His footsteps faltered. Rounding a corner of the corridor, he suddenly stopped, one hand bracing against a pillar. He could no longer suppress the cough. The sound was muffled in his chest, like something was tearing at him. His back, which hadn't bent even when arguing with those old fossils at court, curved slightly. When the coughing finally subsided, he straightened up, took a handkerchief from his sleeve, and pressed it to his mouth. A few spots of dark red bloomed on the silk. He glanced at it, folded it expressionlessly, and tucked it back into his sleeve. He leaned against the pillar, unmoving. Outside the corridor, a sparrow perched on a rockery covered in thin snow, tilting its head to look at him. After staring at the sparrow for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitched slightly in a faint, self-deprecating smile: "Wei Yuanzhou, oh Wei Yuanzhou... this must be the retribution Mother spoke of..." An attendant, not daring to approach, called out from a distance: "My Lord, a guest has arrived—"