An old man fumbled in the darkness of his house, preparing a meal.
In the room, two children—one older and one younger—huddled beside a worn-out stove, shivering slightly from the cold.
The Day of Silence was already halfway over, and this year, it felt colder than any in recent memory.
"Dasun, your grandpa can no longer walk far, and I haven't seen much of Taicang for a long time. Tell me again what you saw when you went with the street pavilion officer to collect firewood?"
The old man turned his head. The dim firelight from the stove lit up his face, making him look even older.
The older child, a boy around eleven or twelve, sniffled and replied with a childish voice, "Grandpa, you've heard it so many times already. Why do you still want to hear it?"
Before the old man could speak, the younger child, a girl about five or six, raised her head, still shivering, and said in a babyish voice, "Brother, tell it again. Nannan wants to hear it too."
Hearing her words, the boy's heart softened. He placed her cold hands into his own, warming them.
Glancing at the old man, he saw the tender look in his grandfather's eyes. Relenting, he began, "That day, I followed the street pavilion officer to collect firewood. We walked a long time until we reached the most open area in the east of the city. Nannan, Grandpa, guess what I saw?"
Nannan's little mouth curved into a smile, her eyebrows arching playfully. She said cooperatively, "Brother, I can't guess."
The old man's murky eyes watched the two children with a kind expression. He shook his head gently and said, "Dasun, I can't guess either."
Dasun's face lit up with amazement as he continued, "There were many people going to collect firewood with us so we wouldn't get lost on the way. When we arrived, everyone stopped and stared, mouths wide open, not knowing what to do."
"We saw giants! Very, very big giants!"
Hearing this, the old man's face showed a look of surprise.
"They were so huge! I looked up and could only see their arms and stomachs. They were holding bundles of firewood—each one ten times bigger than a house! With one step, they crossed the city walls!"
Nannan stretched out her hands in a gesture and asked in her childish voice, "Were the giants bigger than Father and Mother?"
Dasun and the old man exchanged glances, a trace of pain flickering in their eyes.
The old man's son, the children's father, had died three years ago during a Day of Silence. His death was painfully ordinary.
That year, the children's mother had fallen gravely ill, with little hope of survival. Their father gave her his share of food, hoping she could hold on a little longer, while he went out in the dark to seek help from the apothecary's residence.
But luck was not on his side. While walking in the darkness, he slipped on a stray stone and hit the back of his head hard against the frozen ground.
Later, the city guards said their father didn't die from the fall. He lay there, his strength drained and his consciousness fading. Because he hadn't eaten, he lacked the energy to get up. He froze to death right there.
Their mother also couldn't survive, passing away shortly after, taking with her the unborn child in her belly.
This happened three years ago. At that time, Nannan was still learning to talk.
As the years passed, Nannan often asked about her parents.
The old man and Dasun, who still remembered that tragic time, lied to her. They told her that her parents were strong and capable, and had been summoned by the royal court to serve Taicang and its people. They wouldn't return anytime soon.
To Nannan, her parents became figures of unparalleled greatness.
So when she asked about the giants, Dasun said softly, "Those giants were as big as Father and Mother."
Nannan's face lit up with joy, despite her cheeks being red from the cold.
Dasun continued, "The giants were so big that many people thought they were heavenly beings. But the officials handing out firewood told us they were the King's servants, and they would help Taicang in the future!"
The old man's expression grew even more animated. His cloudy eyes gleamed with pride, and a smile appeared on his wrinkled face. His voice grew louder. "I knew it! Lord Ji Xia, the King, must be a god descended to earth. Giants who can step over city walls—how could mere mortals command them?
"Only Lord Ji Xia can command them! Because the King is the embodiment of the Great Wind's will, a living god!"
The old man spoke with certainty, as if he'd found proof of his beliefs. Dasun, too, wore an expression of admiration when he mentioned the King's name.
All who had seen the giants believed that Ji Xia, the King of Taicang, was a god sent by their ancestors—one who could not bear to see the people suffer, so he descended to help them.
The old man glanced at the rice jar in the house. Even from a distance, he could see the overflowing grains inside.
In his eighty-seven years, he had never seen the rice jar full. Such miracles could only mean that Ji Xia was a divine being.
"Grandpa, do you think it's cold this year?"
Dasun shivered. The weather was getting colder, colder than any Day of Silence he could remember. Even the blazing stove was no longer enough.
The old man's excitement faded a little. He sighed and nodded. He thought back to forty years ago, to a similarly bitter winter.
That year, many people froze to death. Their bodies were so perfectly preserved by the ice that they looked alive even after the Day of Silence ended.
That memory haunted him. He thought freezing to death was far worse than starving.
"Grandpa, are we going to freeze to death?"
Nannan seemed to understand the meaning of "death." She tilted her head, her big eyes staring at the old man.
The old man was silent. If a harsher winter truly arrived, it would claim the weak, the elderly, and the children first. That was inevitable.
His heart, already weary with age, grew heavy with a shadow.
But what could they do?
The sun had sunk, snow fell from the sky, the bitter wind howled, and the piercing cold enveloped everything. None of it could be stopped.
Even Ji Xia, the King—Taicang's greatest ruler in two hundred years—had provided them with firewood and enough food to survive.
But not even he could stop the winter.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
Who would visit them during the Day of Silence?
The old man motioned for Dasun and Nannan to stay by the stove. He stepped outside, where the bitter cold stung his skin.
"Huh? There's light?"
Outside the courtyard wall, a bright light shone, far brighter than the large oil lamps that hung in the city.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The knocking came again. The old man, cautious, opened the door.
Snow had already frozen into ice in the courtyard, making each step treacherous. If he fell, he feared he might meet his son in the heavens.
Trembling, he opened the door. A blinding light flooded the courtyard, leaving his eyes momentarily white with blindness.
When his vision returned, he saw two young women, both about twenty, standing at the door alongside a soldier of the Cang Guard in full armor.
One of the women smiled gently and said, "Grandpa, by the decree of the royal court, we have come to install heating stones and light stones for you."
The old man froze. He didn't know what heating stones or light stones were.