Forensic doctor Cheng Qingyuan closed her eyes in front of the autopsy table. When she opened her eyes again, she became the sick and frail daughter of the Prime Minister's Palace. The cinnabar in the decoction, the musk in the incense, and her stepmother's sinister methods were like child's play in her eyes. Until he bumped into the ridiculous prince lying drunk in the golden chariot in the imperial garden - Zhao Mingyi's robe was dyed with dipterocarps from the secret files of the Privy Council, the pine smoke and ink of the Northern Xinjiang war report was hidden in his palm, and half of the unburned defense map was floating in the wine bottle handed to him with a smile.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
