O Resplendor Celestial dos Tang

The twelfth winter of the Zhenguan era of the Great Tang.

"Hundreds of thousands of homes resemble a chessboard; twelve streets are like rows of vegetable patches. From afar, one recognizes the faint glow of torches entering the court; a single line of stars west of the Five Gates."

At the beginning of the Mao hour, the massive city of Chang'an lay like an ancient, primeval beast dormant in the darkness.

The stars and moon were devoid of light, the north wind howled, and goose-feather snowflakes fell in thick, rapid flurries, blanketing the streets and rooftops. Stepping through the deep snow, lines of carriages bearing torches emerged from the neighborhood gates—just opened by the wardens—converging onto Vermilion Bird Avenue, moving in a grand procession toward Chengtian Gate to attend the morning court.

Though the time for the morning audience was fast approaching, the residence of Fang Xuanling, Duke of Liang and Secretariat Director, was in a state of noisy, chaotic disarray.

Approaching his sixtieth year, Fang Xuanling stood in the courtyard in his full court robes, hands clasped behind his back, gazing up at the snow-covered roof with a face full of anxiety.

A slender youth was sitting atop the roof, holding a jar of wine, taking a sip from time to time, and sighing deeply.

At this moment, a maid of twelve or thirteen years old ran over and fell to her knees before Fang Xuanling, her knees instantly sinking an inch into the snow.

"Sob... Master, it is all my fault. I did not keep a close eye on th