When Lin Daiyu first arrived at the entrance to the Jia family residence, dusk was falling. Heavy leaden clouds hung over the mansion, seeming ready to swallow the entire estate. The distant scenery looked blurred beneath the gloom, as though veiled by a thin layer of gauze, and carried an indescribable haze and oppression. Daiyu sat in her sedan chair, glimpsing it all through a gap in the curtain. Her heart gave a sudden lurch, and an inexplicable unease quietly spread within her. Instinctively, she clutched the handkerchief in her hands. Her fingers turned faintly white with the force of her grip, and the delicate patterns embroidered on the handkerchief now seemed shrouded in the same eerie atmosphere
