Jade Without Fragrance - Prologue

It was late at night, and Changchun Street was deserted. Only the red lanterns hanging under the eaves of some shops emitted a faint light, adding a bit of warmth to the snow on the roofs and roadsides.

Wen Hao, dressed in black, walked lightly on the bluestone road where the snow had not melted. She stopped and walked, looked around carefully, and entered an alley next to the powder shop.

The alley was narrow and deep, and the silence was palpitating.

Wen Hao stopped in front of a private house and knocked gently on the door.

As soon as the knock sounded, it was opened.

The woman inside the door had an anxious look in her eyes, grabbed Wen Hao's wrist and pulled her in.

As soon as she entered the house, the woman knelt on Wen Hao and cried bitterly: "Second Miss, I never thought you were still alive!"

Wen Hao's eyelashes trembled, and he gently patted the woman's shoulder, took out a folded paper from her sleeve and handed it to the woman.

The woman stood up, took the paper with trembling hands, opened it, and read the words on the paper clearly by candlelight: Lian Xiang, how did my Eldest Sister die?

Lian Xiang's tears welled up again when she saw this: "Second Miss, the Eldest Miss..."

Wen Hao bit her lip to suppress her anxiety, and poked hard at the question with her slender fingers.

Everyone in this circle in the capital knew that the Second Miss of Minister Wen's mansion was born mute.

Lian Xiang wiped her tears and started talking.

"That day, the Young Master took the Eldest Miss out and didn't come back until the evening. The Miss entered the inner room and never stepped out of the door again. At night, Xiao He got up and found that the Eldest Miss had hanged herself... It was Xiao He who accompanied the Eldest Miss out during the day. This maid asked her what happened, and Xiao He said..."

Wen Hao stared at Lian Xiang, waiting for her to continue.

Lian Xiang's face was pale, she took a deep breath, and uttered the following words with difficulty: "Xiao He said... The Eldest Miss might have been flirted with by another man..."

Wen Hao supported the table with both hands, and it took a while to suppress the overwhelming anger. She pointed to the paper and then to her mouth.

Lian Xiang understood, but there was no paper and pen at home, so she took out a box of lipstick on a whim.

Wen Hao dipped her fingertips in lipstick and wrote directly on the table: "Who?"

Lian Xiang shook her head, her voice choked: "Xiao He doesn't know who he is, and she hasn't seen the man's face, but from the words and deeds of the Young Master, she feels that the man's identity is not ordinary... After that, the news of the girl's suicide spread, and Xiao He died before dawn. I knew that Xiao He was silenced, so I took advantage of the chaos to escape from the Bo's Mansion, and since then I have been living in Changchun Street under an assumed name..."

Wen Hao's chest rose and fell, and anger burned in her chest.

Three years ago, she escaped from the clutches of the Wen Mansion because she realized the dirty plans of her father and stepmother. She didn't expect that her eldest sister, who had already married, had such a similar experience.

"By the way, Second Miss, three years ago, the Wen Mansion sent a message saying that you had passed away. How come you..."

Wen Hao dipped her finger on the lipstick and continued to write: "Someone tried to harm me, and I ran away..."

Lian Xiang covered her face and cried: "The Eldest Miss was pregnant at the time. After receiving the letter about you, she couldn't go back. Later, she was heartbroken and had a miscarriage. At first, the Young Master was quite considerate, but over time, he became cold to the Eldest Miss..."

Wen Hao listened to Lian Xiang motionlessly until the candlestick on the table was filled with candle tears.

“Second Miss, where are you headed? Why not stay here with me so that I can serve you in the future?” Lian Xiang called out as she chased after Wen Hao to the gate of the courtyard.

Wen Hao simply shook her head. Unable to speak, she didn’t provide an explanation. Instead, she gently pushed the door open and stepped outside.

A biting cold wind hit her face, carrying fine snowflakes with it.

It was snowing again.

Turning back, she waved her hand to signal Lian Xiang to close the door and return inside before she hurriedly exited the alley.

The wind outside was harsher, stinging her cheeks like a thousand tiny daggers. Despite the pain, Wen Hao pressed on, moving quickly in one direction.

Then, the wind howled in her ears, the bitter cold numbing her senses. As she tried to steer away from it, a sharp dagger suddenly struck her back.

Wen Hao quickly turned her head to look.

Through the swirling snow, a figure with an obscured face was drawing nearer.

Not wanting to linger, she stumbled forward without taking a closer look.

She had returned to the capital to handle many pressing matters; she couldn’t afford to meet her end here.

But suddenly, she halted and looked ahead.

A man clad in a black scarf approached, the long sword he wielded glinting ominously in the snow.

With danger lurking in front and behind, Wen Hao took a step back, hesitated, and then raised her dagger to strike at the masked figure before her.

If escape was impossible, taking one adversary down would have to suffice.

Amidst the scent of blood, she found herself enveloped in a tight embrace.

The masked man held her close as they both fell to the ground, a flying dagger embedded in his back.

Wen Hao opened her mouth, momentarily stunned by the situation.

Why would her assailants shield her from harm?

Yet, there was no time to ponder.

As the masked man struggled to lift her, the danger behind her closed in.

A sword descended, piercing through the masked man's back and then thrusting into Wen Hao's heart.

Hot blood seeped into the snow, blooming like vivid red flowers, making it impossible to determine whose blood it truly was.

Wen Hao fought to keep her eyes open, attempting to discern the identity of the figure atop her.

Only the man’s eyes were visible beneath the black scarf, and they were strikingly beautiful.

Who are you...

Before succumbing to the darkness, Wen Hao silently mouthed this question.

Distant noises began to emerge, drawing closer.

Snowflakes grew in size, soon covering the two still figures lying quietly in a pool of blood on the white canvas of snow.