Xie Yan liked cats, but he did not like keeping them. He had a fastidious nature and found cat fur intolerable.

When he was in the mood to play with cats, he would go to the club, where the manager would prepare all manner of rare and prized breeds for him — some strikingly beautiful, some aloof and imperious, some gentle and docile, each one bathed and groomed to a level of cleanliness that surpassed even that of most people.

But even such cats grew tiresome after a while.

Until the day he discovered the alley cats.

They were common, lowly breeds — wild things, with no one to care for them, scraping by in the alleys and surviving on scraps from the rubbish heaps.

They were far from pristine, but they were spirited and untamed and full of life.

When Xie Yan walked by, he would stop and watch them squabble and play. And they, for their part, showed not the slightest fear of him — sometimes three or four of them would sit atop a wall, watching him with placid, curious eyes.

Because he came by so often, a few of the bolder ones had taken to approaching him and meowing demandingly, begging him for food.

And now and then, moved by some passing whim, he would remember to bring along a bit of dried fish to toss their way.

This had been nothing more than an idle amusement to fill his empty hours — he had not expected that one day, he would encounter a girl.

This girl had come from somewhere he could not determine. She was dressed in tatters and was living among the cats, mixed in with the pack of them.

She seemed thoroughly acquainted with them. The very cats that would shrink back when he approached would clamber boldly onto her shoulders without hesitation.

They gathered all around her, meowing.

She was clearly very poor — she had no way to feed these cats. But what she could do was walk far, to the places where wealthy people frequented, and scavenge for food there.

Whatever she gathered, she shared with the cats. She lived among them, just as one of their companions.

Xie Yan found her fascinating. He had never seen a person who could actually live among so many wild cats. He did not know why she was with them, nor how she had come to end up in this place.

In his idle hours he would wander through that broken-down alley. It was there, one day, that he heard her singing.

He had not expected a girl dressed in rags to possess a voice so beautiful and pure. Without any accompaniment whatsoever, she could still move a listener to a state of effortless ease and serenity.

He stood at the mouth of the alley and listened to her sing.

She sang one song after another, seemingly without fatigue — from bright and breezy folk tunes to aching love songs wrung through with sorrow, she commanded each with perfect ease.

Xie Yan thought this girl was truly a remarkable creature, and his curiosity about her past deepened with each passing day.

Then word reached him that the ballroom manager was looking for a singer, and the first person who came to mind was this girl who lived among the cats.

He found her. He learned that her name was Shen Ruoxi.

Shen Ruoxi — a rather beautiful name, though it seemed ill-suited to her grimy, disheveled appearance.

Shen Ruoxi told him she had come from Chengjun County in Xi Nan — a place that lay along the border between Xi Nan and Bei Di, where war had burned without cease for years. Her family had perished one by one amid the chaos, and she had followed the tide of refugees across the border to escape, drifting this way and that until at last she arrived in Shun Cheng.

By the time she reached Shun Cheng, she had not a single coin to her name. Destitute and desperate, she came down with a high fever, and by the time she staggered into this small alley, she had collapsed.

It was the wild cats who had roused her — licking at her face, dragging food to lay before her.

She thought herself hard-lived, to have pulled through in conditions like these. The fever passed, and her strength returned. But rather than moving on, she stayed. She walked long distances in search of food for the cats, scrounging in the places where wealthy people passed.

She lived among them, sheltered under a rough tent she had fashioned in the corner of the alley, and had been there for more than half a month without quite noticing how the time had slipped by.

Xie Yan had been away from Shun Cheng on business for roughly that same length of time, so it was that before his departure, he had not yet laid eyes on this girl.

Shen Ruoxi was deeply grateful to Xie Yan for giving her a job that paid. She needed to support not only herself but these cats as well — and while others might dismiss them as worthless strays, to her they were her saviors, the only beings she could trust after losing everyone she had loved.

But she had wanted to support them through her own abilities. The harsh cruelty of reality, however, had forced her to lower her head. The Cultural Prince of the Xin Guo had given her an invaluable lesson: without Xie Yan, she would have been tortured to death.

Xie Yan had been right. He had told her: Shen Ruoxi, if you want to survive, you must adapt to this world, meet it where it is, and yield to it. You cannot change this era. You can only try to become part of it — otherwise all that awaits you is death.

Even Dr. Fan had said it: what is a little dignity, sacrificed for one’s dreams? And all the more so for the sake of survival itself.

She wanted to live. She wanted to provide for herself. And so she had to endure — because her stubbornness could solve nothing.

Shen Ruoxi got out of bed. Her wounds had not yet healed; though nothing showed on the surface, every movement sent searing pain shooting through her.

That Cultural Prince was an utter deviant when it came to tormenting people — a vile, depraved creature hiding beneath the veneer of royal dignity. But he was a prince, and even the General had to give him face. What recourse did she have — a weak woman scraping along at the very bottom of society?

Shen Ruoxi pushed open the door. Outside, the light was brilliant and sharp, but the winter wind showed no mercy, striking her full in the face with its bitter chill.

She could not help but shiver, pulling her coat tighter around herself.

The courtyard was empty. She walked for a while before a manservant appeared from around a corner.

“Excuse me,” Shen Ruoxi hurried forward. “I am looking for Mr. Xie.”

This was her first time at Xie Yan’s home — she had been unconscious when she arrived — and now that she stepped outside, she realized just how vast it truly was. The place where she had been staying was merely one small building among many. Beyond this courtyard, the grounds opened up even further, with trees giving way to several white Western-style buildings.

Finding a single person in a house this large was clearly no simple matter.

The manservant looked her up and down. “Who are you? How did you get in here?”

“I…” A single question left Shen Ruoxi at a loss for words. Who was she? How had she gotten in?

Seeing her hesitate and stammer, the manservant grew immediately wary. “You didn’t sneak in, did you? Who are you? Are you here to cause trouble for Mr. Xie?”

Just as Shen Ruoxi could not think of how to explain herself, her sharp eyes caught a familiar figure in the distance.

“Mr. Xie.”

Xie Yan was walking toward her from behind a fountain. He wore a black overcoat draped casually across his shoulders, a slim-cut shirt beneath, and a black vest over that.

The winter sunlight fell across his face as though casting a thin veil of light over it.

The first time Shen Ruoxi had laid eyes on him, she had been unable to find words to describe his appearance. After searching through everything she could think of, she had arrived at only two: handsome.

His features were delicate, his complexion fair. He had a pair of phoenix eyes, their outer corners tilting upward with a refined elegance — giving him, even when he was not smiling, the misleading impression of being someone easy to approach.

Yes. A misleading impression.

Those who did not know Xie Yan were invariably deceived by his face. Those who did know him were fully aware of the ruthlessness and cunning that lay beneath this surface.

He wore a face that was guileless and beguiling to all — yet possessed none of the compassion that might have accompanied it.

Shen Ruoxi did not know Xie Yan particularly well. On the contrary, she had always felt a genuine gratitude toward him — he had given her work, and it was he who had sent someone to rescue her from the hands of the Cultural Prince.

Xie Yan paused, his deep, unreadable gaze settling on her.

“Mr. Xie, this woman appeared out of nowhere and was lurking about suspiciously,” the manservant reported quickly.

“Let her through,” Xie Yan said.

The manservant stepped aside at once.

Shen Ruoxi walked up to Xie Yan and gave a small bow. “I never had the chance to thank you properly. The kindness of saving my life — Shen Ruoxi will never forget it.”

Xie Yan studied her briefly. “Your wounds have healed?”

“Not yet, but it is nothing serious.”

“Something you need?”

Shen Ruoxi bit her lip lightly, as though steeling herself for some decision. “What you said to me that day — I have been thinking about it for several days, and I have finally come to understand. You were right, Mr. Xie. If I want to support myself, I must change this temper of mine and bend to the way of the world, rather than expecting the world to bend to me.”

“You’ve thought it through?”

“I have.”

Xie Yan took a cigarette from his attendant and held it between his fingers without immediately lighting it, turning it with practiced ease.

“Then go back and return to work.”

“Yes.” Shen Ruoxi drew a deep breath. “I will not bring Mr. Xie any more trouble.”

“Hopefully so.” Xie Yan regarded the woman before him — outwardly submissive, yet with a stubborn light still burning in her eyes. “A woman like you is nothing more than a dispensable pawn on my board. On my chessboard, you can be discarded at any moment. A single word from me, and there are countless people who could take your place.”

Shen Ruoxi knew that when Xie Yan had sent her to the ballroom, it was far more than just singing that he had in mind.

In a place like that opulent ballroom, power and wealth congregated in abundance. He wanted her to draw close to those men and extract from their lips information that would be of use to him.

She had no doubt that he had many women like her in his employ.

He had countless ways to gather intelligence — this was merely one of them. So she was right: she was nothing more than a dispensable pawn. The moment she stepped out of line, he could deal with her however he saw fit.

“I understand,” Shen Ruoxi said, bowing her head. Her teeth left a deep impression in her lower lip.

Xie Yan tossed the cigarette back toward his attendant, who caught it swiftly with both hands.

“When Miss Shen has recovered, escort her back to work.”

The attendant nodded quickly. “Yes, Mr. Xie.”

Xie Yan passed by Shen Ruoxi’s side and suddenly paused. He did not look at her, but his voice came through clearly.

“You — your name is truly Shen Ruoxi?”

Shen Ruoxi stared at the tips of her own shoes. Even without his gaze on her, Xie Yan’s presence was overwhelming and commanding.

Rather than answering, she turned the question back on him: “A name given by one’s parents — of course it is Shen Ruoxi.”

Xie Yan gave a faint lift of the corner of his mouth — whether or not he believed her remained impossible to tell. He turned and strode away.

Shen Ruoxi watched his retreating figure and thought to herself that this man’s mind was utterly unfathomable.

—