Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A Windfall of Fu Gui – Gu Yan Qing

First Month, Twenty-Sixth Day. Light snow.

In the capital of Qing Yun Kingdom, at the Gu Residence.

The snow from last night still hadn’t stopped. The entire capital lay under a thin wash of silver-white. At the Gu Residence, servant boys were already out with brooms and shovels, clearing the paths—careful, too careful, as if one loud scrape might disturb the man reading in the study.

Today was Lord Gu’s rest day.

A rare thing.

In the back courtyard, the study sat warm and quiet. Shelves climbed the walls. Incense curled in lazy ribbons through the air.

A tall, handsome man lounged against a small couch, hair bound beneath a jade crown. He wore fine brocade underclothes and a pure-white fox-fur cloak worth a young lady’s dowry. In his hand was a book: Gazetteer of the Capital.

But his eyes weren’t on the gazetteer.

They were on the strange writing that only he could see, spread across the title page:

Jianping, Year Three. First Month. Twenty-Fifth Day.

Windy. Light snow.

Mother dragged my brother out at dawn to shop at the market. Officially, it was so he could help carry things. In reality… she wanted him out of the house, breathing a little, and not chewing himself to pieces with nerves. After all… the results list would be posted in a few days, and whether he became a provincial graduate came down to this one exam.

Honestly, I think Mother worries too much. My brother looks utterly convinced, wearing that sweet, sticky kind of confidence like a winter coat. He doesn’t seem to have even considered the possibility of failing.

He’s sure he’ll pass, just like Gu Yan Qing did seven years ago—rising from a poor home, shooting straight up the ladder.

Gu.

Yan.

Qing.

The man’s expression shifted. Light flickered at the bottom of his eyes.

His name… was in this diary?

Yes. The incomparably handsome, dangerously composed man was Gu Yan Qing, the Left Chancellor of the realm.

Seven years ago, Gu Yan Qing placed first as top scholar. From a poor nobody with nothing but his wits, he became the court’s newest rising star.

But a poor background was a stain in the eyes of many in the capital. Most noble heirs refused to accept him. Even after he topped the exams, he was given no real power.

None of that mattered.

Gu Yan Qing was an opportunist. If opportunity didn’t exist, he would manufacture it.

So, in that winter seven years ago, while his career stalled, he “happened” to become acquainted with the Third Prince—another man sidelined and underestimated. They shared interests, were close in age, and soon treated each other as confidants.

Four years ago, the Late Emperor died. The princes tore at each other like wolves. The once-unremarkable Third Prince played his cards step by step—and emerged as the biggest dark horse. He crushed every rival and ascended the throne.

And Gu Yan Qing, who had backed him and helped him scheme, rose with him. For his merit, he became the Left Chancellor, power filling his hands until it overflowed.

He had only just passed his coming-of-age at twenty. To reach this height at that age, in Qing Yun Kingdom, was almost unheard of.

And now, this Left Chancellor sat frowning at a book that should have been nothing but paper and ink.

How did it start?

Perhaps… a little over ten days ago.

That evening, Gu Yan Qing returned from the government office, ate his meal, and went to his study as usual to handle work. The moment he stepped inside, he saw a book lying on his desk.

His desk was always spotless.

And nobody was allowed into his study without permission—unless it was Gu Yan Huan.

His younger sister. His only remaining family in this world.

At the time, he assumed she had slipped in again and left it there. He sat down and glanced at the cover.

Gazetteer of the Capital.

Since when did Yan Huan like that sort of thing?

He didn’t dwell on it. He reached out to move the book aside—and the instant his fingers touched it, the title page flipped open on its own.

It was as if a door opened.

Gu Yan Qing discovered he had gained something strange: a diary disguised as a book.

It could appear wherever he needed it, following his will. To everyone else, it remained an ordinary Gazetteer of the Capital. Only Gu Yan Qing could see the true text inside.

He had possessed it for more than half a month now.

The entries were scattered, small, and messy—fragments of someone else’s life.

But Gu Yan Qing had noticed details. The diary’s weather always matched the capital’s. The shop names and prices mentioned in passing were consistent with what he knew.

Which meant the diary’s owner was likely in the capital, too.

And today, for the first time, the diary had written his name.