Moonlight Mystique

Chapter 1: Bai Shuo's Father

On the night of the Lantern Festival, the General's residence in the capital was ablaze with lights.

In the main hall, heavy footsteps paced back and forth. General Bai Xun, usually warm and forthright, now had his thick brows knitted into a deep frown. The whip clenched behind his back creaked under his grip.

Lady Bai leaned against an elderly maidservant, her eyes brimming with tears as she gazed anxiously toward the hall's entrance, her face pale with worry.

When General Bai turned and saw his wife's haggard appearance, anger and heartache surged within him. He lashed the whip against the ground, sending another thunderous crack through the hall.

"When that little brat comes back, I swear I'll give her a proper thrashing! No one better try to stop me this time!" Bai Xun gnashed his teeth, pointing at the sky as if making a vow.

Hearing this, Lady Bai's eyes reddened further. "My lord, how can you say such things at a time like this? If Xi'er and Shuo'er come to harm, I won't want to live either..."

General Bai, who cherished his wife above all else, felt his anger deflate at her words. He hastily dropped the whip and steadied her. "My dear, don't speak such nonsense! I've already dispatched our personal guards to search for them. I've also requested His Majesty's permission to mobilize the Imperial Guards and the Capital Patrol. They'll comb the entire city—Xi'er and that reckless girl will be fine!" His expression darkened, the ruthless ferocity of his past street brawls and battlefield days resurfacing. "If anyone dares lay a finger on my daughters, I'll wipe out their entire family!"

Lady Bai found some comfort in his words, but tears still streamed down her face as she kept her gaze fixed on the hall's entrance.

Outside, Song Lin, the Minister of Justice, who had come to report on the search efforts, shuddered at General Bai's ominous roar from within. He sighed repeatedly.

What a mess this was! While everyone else celebrated the Lantern Festival at home, he was stuck in this turmoil. The two young misses of the General's household had gone missing during the lantern fair and still hadn't been found. If anything happened to them, his position as Minister of Justice would likely be over. Only the children of royalty or General Bai Xun's precious daughters could warrant such a city-wide mobilization of both the Capital Patrol and the Imperial Guards.

If it were the children of any other noble family, it might not be so dire—but it had to be his daughters!

General Bai Xun, born in the slums, had risen to become the pinnacle of military officials in the Great Jing Dynasty. His life story read like something out of a legend. A country bumpkin from the foot of Mount Tai, he had once been a simple laborer, relying on his innate Divine Power to make a living. By a twist of Destiny, he saved Han Wanrou, the sole heiress of the Yong'an Marquisate, from drowning in a river and fell for her at first sight. Fearless and unbound by societal norms or class distinctions, Bai Xun packed his belongings and marched straight to the Yong'an Marquisate in the capital to propose marriage.

The Yong'an Marquisate was no ordinary household—even in decline, they held the Iron Certificate of Merit, a founding noble family of Great Jing. Given Bai Xun's lowly status, he didn't even make it past the front gates. The old marquis had only one daughter, and if not for Bai Xun's act of saving her, the marquis would have done far worse than simply driving him out of the capital with a beating from the staff.This incident had caused a minor stir in the capital, but as the presumptuous porter was banished, the nobility quickly forgot all about it, not even bothering to inquire about the porter’s name. Han Wanrou had always enjoyed an excellent reputation among the noble ladies of the capital—cultured, refined, and beautiful. She had once been the most sought-after bride, but after falling into the water at Mount Tai, she remained bedridden for a long time. No family wanted a sickly mistress, and so the marriage of the eldest daughter of the Marquis of Yong'an was delayed. This delay lasted a full seven years.

Seven years later, a captain named Bai Xun emerged in the northwest, leading three small cavalry units to minor victories against the Rong tribes beyond Tong Pass, breaking the decade-long losing streak of the Dajing Empire. Emperor Jingkang, delighted by the frequent reports of victories, personally led the campaign and promoted Bai Xun to the rank of third-grade General of Anxi, entrusting him with great responsibility. Bai Xun’s unorthodox tactics culminated in a decisive victory against the Northern Rong King through alliances and stratagems. In the final battle, Bai Xun took an arrow meant for the emperor, becoming His Majesty’s savior. Impressed by his talent and moved by his loyalty, the emperor broke protocol and promoted the 28-year-old Bai Xun to the first-grade rank of Guardian General of the Nation on the battlefield.

Despite receiving the title, Bai Xun did not return to the capital for rewards. Instead, he requested permission to suppress pirates in the South Sea. The Dajing Empire had long lacked an exceptional military leader, and one who did not covet power was rare. Emperor Jingkang gladly agreed. Three years later, the pirates were eradicated, and the coastal residents, grateful to the court, praised the emperor’s benevolence. Bai Xun returned to the capital in glory, bearing a "Ten-Thousand-Words Umbrella" gifted by the people.

This marked Bai Xun’s first return to the capital since his fame spread across Dajing after his exploits in the northwest.

In the Golden Hall, the emperor, overjoyed, recounted Bai Xun’s decade of achievements and asked what reward he desired.

Bai Xun kowtowed deeply and uttered words that shocked the court:

"Your servant wishes to exchange ten years of military merit and the honor of his entire family to marry the eldest daughter of the Marquis of Yong'an."

With Bai Xun offering a decade of service for this one request, how could the emperor refuse? The imperial edict of marriage was delivered to the Marquis of Yong'an’s household that very day. The elderly marquis, retired and living in seclusion, only then realized that the illustrious first-grade Guardian General Bai Xun was the nameless porter he had banished from the capital years ago. Stunned and ashamed, he also recognized that his daughter had waited faithfully for this man’s return all these years. With a heart full of relief, the old marquis sent his beloved daughter to her wedding.

The story of the past spread quickly through the capital, and Bai Xun’s unwavering devotion—spending ten years on life-and-death battlefields for the sake of one woman—became a celebrated tale. Bai Xun was an extraordinary man. As a newly risen noble with significant military power, he attended court and paid regular respects to Emperor Jingkang but otherwise avoided socializing with aristocratic families or powerful ministers. He ignored overtures from the princes, earning the ire of many influential figures. Yet, the more aloof he remained, the more the emperor valued him. The year after his return, the emperor entrusted him with command of the capital’s defenses.

Thus, Bai Xun became the most powerful yet isolated official in the capital. Aside from the emperor, he had no friends to share wine or tea with, but Bai Xun paid no mind. He devoted himself entirely to his wife in the general’s residence, where they enjoyed a deeply affectionate marriage. Due to her delicate health, Lady Bai bore him twin daughters only after seven years of marriage.

The elder twin was named Bai Xi, the younger Bai Shuo. On the day of their birth, Bai Xun was ennobled by Emperor Jingkang as the Pillar of the Nation’s Grand General, and the elder daughter, Bai Xi, was chosen as the crown prince’s consort. For a time, the Bai family’s imperial favor was unmatched in the capital.In the year Bai Shuo turned three, Bai Xun arranged a marriage for his youngest daughter. This betrothal was somewhat an act of repaying kindness. Years ago, when Bai Xun was driven out of the capital by the old Marquis of Yong'an with a staff, he happened to be rescued by Chong Tai, then the Vice Minister of Rites. Moved by Bai Xun's deep emotions and tragic fate, Chong Tai encouraged him to join the army in the northwest and even assisted him with fifty taels of silver. This act of kindness eventually led to Bai Xun becoming a first-rank general over a decade later.

Now Chong Tai had risen to the position of Right Minister. Five years ago, he personally visited the General's residence to propose a marriage for his youngest son, Chong Zhao. After several days of contemplation, Bai Xun entered the palace to recount the past to Emperor Jingkang, seeking the emperor's approval for the marriage. Having returned to the capital for seven years, Bai Xun had never associated with any noble households, except for sending three bottles of homemade osmanthus wine to the Chong residence every New Year's Eve. It was only then that Emperor Jingkang learned of this hidden destiny and, deeply moved, granted his permission for the marriage.

Thus, although the twin daughters of the Bai family were only eight years old, their status was already esteemed, far surpassing that of ordinary noble daughters. Had it not been for this, the disappearance of two little girls would not have caused such distress to the dignified Minister of Justice, forcing him to run errands inside and outside the city late into the night.

The search had to be conducted discreetly yet urgently, as it concerned the reputation of the two young misses, making the task all the more challenging.

With a sigh, Song Lin stepped into the main hall of the General's residence.

No sooner had he appeared than Madam Bai's eyes lit up. Before she could speak, General Bai strode up to Song Lin.

"Master Song, any news about those two rascals of mine?"

Who would refer to their own daughters like that? Especially when one of them was the future Crown Princess chosen by the emperor!

Song Lin, a proper scholar, was so angry his beard quivered. But knowing Bai Xun's notorious reputation for being unconventional, he held his tongue and only shook his head with a troubled expression. "General Bai, this humble official is incompetent. We have yet to locate the two young misses."

Seeing the change in Bai Xun and Madam Bai's expressions, Song Lin quickly added, "However, we have received reports that the young misses were seen at the southern market at dawn. I have already dispatched all available officers to search the southern city."

Instead of easing his worry, this news made Bai Xun's expression darken further.

In the capital, the wealthy and noble resided in the north, while the commoners and laborers lived in the south. Even under the emperor's rule, there were dark and unsavory corners. The southern market was chaotic, teeming with thieves, beggars, and all sorts of lowlifes. Xi'er and Shuo'er had been watching lanterns in the northern market—how could they have ended up in the south?

Having grown up in the streets, Bai Xun knew that his precious daughters' disappearance was no simple matter. After calming his wife, he immediately led his personal guards to search the southern city with a grim expression.

The sound of galloping horses on the official road in the dead of night startled half the city's residents. Song Lin, a man of letters, wobbled behind General Bai's steed, sighing in despair.

Galloping through the capital after curfew was strictly forbidden. If the censors reported General Bai's actions at the morning court the next day, he would face severe punishment!

Young Miss Bai, where on earth are you two? If we don't find you soon, the entire capital will be turned upside down.

Just as the officers from the Ministry of Justice arrived at the southern city gate, a foul-smelling oxcart slipped quietly out through a side gate, as it did every day. The cart was driven by the Qian brothers, who collected night soil in the southern city's Zonglin Alley. Every few days, the brothers would transport the waste out of the city. To avoid offending the neighbors, they always lined the inside and outside of the barrels with thick layers of dry grass to mask the stench.They were old neighbors who had been transporting swill for five or six years, long familiar with the guards at the city gate. The soldiers had no desire to rummage through the stinking swill barrels. Today, as the two men drove their oxcart out of the city, the guards merely lifted their eyelids in greeting and let them pass without a second thought.

No one noticed that the sickly, emaciated Qian Brothers, though smiling as humbly and ingratiatingly as usual, had faint blue veins bulging on their hands gripping the oxcart reins—veins entwined with a dark, sinister Qi.

As the oxcart moved farther away, an old soldier sharpening his sword beneath the city wall grew uneasy.

Had there been a gurgling sound from inside the cart just now? He honed his blade a few more times and glanced at the retreating cart. Seeing nothing amiss, he turned away.

It was just swill and hay, the same as they’d been hauling for years. What trouble could there be?

The oxcart moved farther from the southern gate, the clamor of the streets fading behind it. Inside the reeking swill barrels, the two Young Miss Bais were bound like stuffed dumplings, gagged with rags, glaring at each other—one seething with anger, the other icy and composed. Their features and expressions were entirely different, save for their eyes, which were strikingly alike—bright and full of spirit.