Shadows of Crimson and Snow

The full moon hung like a jade pendant in the ink-black sky, casting its pale light over the ancient capital of Luoyang. Ten thousand red lanterns swayed in the gentle spring breeze, their glow painting the city streets in shades of crimson. The air was thick with the sweet scent of osmanthus flowers and the savory aroma of street vendors' delicacies.

Children darted between crowds with paper lanterns bouncing in their hands, their laughter mixing with the melodic twang of pipa strings and the steady beat of drums. Tonight marked the first full moon of the year—the Grand Lantern Festival—when spirits were said to walk among the living, and wishes whispered to the moon might just come true.

In the bustling Night Market District, the elderly Madam Liu adjusted her stall's display of intricate paper lanterns, each one a small masterpiece bearing hand-painted scenes of legendary lovers and ancient heroes. Her weathered fingers traced the delicate paper of her finest creation—a lantern depicting the tale of the Moon Goddess. "Such a shame," she muttered to herself, "that our own princess never shows her face at the festival."

High above the celebrations, in the Crimson Phoenix Tower of the Imperial Palace, Princess Li Xiaoyan stood motionless behind her blood-red silk veil, watching the festivities below. Her tall, slender frame was draped in layers of crimson brocade, embroidered with golden threads that caught the lantern light. Behind her, the twin shadows of Feng Xiao and Feng Yue stood guard, their matching silver hairpins glinting in the moonlight.

"Your Highness," Feng Xiao's voice was barely a whisper, "the Crown Prince requests your presence at the festival banquet."

The princess' painted lips curved slightly beneath her veil. "Tell my dear brother I am indisposed." Her voice carried the softness of silk hiding steel. "The moon is too bright tonight for my taste."

In the streets below, the celebration continued unaware of the palace intrigue above. Near the Bridge of Dancing Willows, Zhou Jinlei haggled cheerfully with a dumpling vendor. His easy smile and quick wit earned him an extra portion. His merchant's robes were of fine quality but worn with casual elegance, marking him as a man who walked comfortably between social classes.

"Have you heard?" The dumpling vendor leaned close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "They say the White Ghost was seen again, at the edge of the city. Standing on the rooftops like some demon from the old tales."

Zhou Jinlei's smile never wavered, though his eyes were sharpened with interest. "The White Ghost? Surely such stories are meant for children, to keep them from wandering too far from home."

Before the vendor could respond, a scream pierced through the festival's jovial atmosphere. It came from the direction of the Thousand Buddha Temple, cutting through the music and laughter like a blade through silk. The crowd's movement shifted, people flowing toward and away from the sound like waves in a disturbed pond.

Zhou Jinlei's hand instinctively moved to the sword hidden beneath his robe as he made his way through the parting crowd. At the temple steps, the festivities had transformed into chaos. A circle of onlookers stood frozen, their lanterns casting dancing shadows over a scene of horror.

Magistrate Chen, known for his harsh judgments and corrupt dealings, lay sprawled across the temple steps. His body was arranged with terrible precision, his hands folded in prayer, but his chest had been carved open like a blooming flower. Where his heart should have been, a single white chrysanthemum had been placed, its petals stained crimson.

Standing at the edge of the crowd, a tall figure in black robes watched silently, white hair gleaming in the moonlight. His presence seemed to draw the shadows closer, making the lantern light flutter anxiously. As the city guards pushed through the crowd, he turned away, the edge of his robe catching the wind like dark wings.

One elderly woman clutched her prayer beads, whispering, "The White Ghost... he's come for the wicked ones."

In the Crimson Phoenix Tower, Princess Xiaoyan's hand tightened on the window frame as she watched the commotion below. The festival lanterns now seemed to float like drops of blood in the darkness, and even through her veil, she could see the gathering storm clouds beginning to obscure the moon.

Behind her, Feng Yue stepped forward. "Your Highness, Dr. Wei Ruyi has arrived in the capital as requested. He awaits your command."

The princess's voice was cool and measured, betraying nothing of her thoughts. "Good. Perhaps now we shall see what darkness hides behind all this festival light." She turned from the window, her crimson robes whispering across the floor. "After all, even ghosts cast shadows."

In the streets below, as the guards covered Magistrate Chen's body and the crowd reluctantly dispersed, a single white chrysanthemum petal drifted in the wind, dancing past the lanterns before disappearing into the night. The Lantern Festival continued around the temple, but the laughter had grown nervous, the music slightly discordant. In the ancient capital of Luoyang, as the moon rose higher in the sky, everyone knew that this was only the beginning.

A new ghost story was being written in blood, and not even the light of ten thousand lanterns could keep the shadows at bay.