Plum Blossom Makeup and Eleven-Dimensional Copper Coins

The snowy night is silent, deep within the palace wall. The old eunuch's withered hands held the handed down ice-cracked porcelain bottle, and the cold air invaded his bone marrow. His fingertips were almost frozen, but they were still trembling as he wrote something on the surface of the porcelain bottle. Big bad. The completion of these two words seemed to crush the last vestige of life in the cold night. The old eunuch looked up, and snowflakes fell on his weathered face, melting into the shape of tears. The porcelain bottle shimmered strangely in the candlelight, and ice cracks spread like a spider web. He suddenly saw an incredible scene reflected in the porcelain vase - the palace ten years later, with flames rising into the sky, flags shattered, bright red silk and satin covering the ground like blood, and the dynasty collapsing in mourning. The snow on the palace wall can't warm people's hearts. The old eunuch murmured to himself, his voice as light as a ghost. The wind and snow became more and more severe, blowing out the candle in his hand. The snow on the palace wall can't warm people's hearts. Echoes lingered in the darkness, like whispers from another time and space. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.