In the winter of the seventeenth year of Yongchang, there was heavy snowfall in Shangjing that had not been seen in fifty years.
In the deepest part of the imperial prison in the northwest corner of the imperial city, the cold air mixed with blood and turned into white frost, covering the rusty iron bars. Su Yanqing huddled in the corner of the cell, her thin prison clothes soaked in blood from the whip marks, and turning into dark red ice in the cold air.
She couldn't remember what day it was.
I only remember that day, my father's head was hanging on the Desheng Gate for public display, and blood dripped along the cracks in the bricks of the city wall for seven days. Of the ninety-six members of the Su family, except for her, the "quasi-princess", no one was spared.
"Yanqing, the direct daughter of the Su family, had an affair with Xirong. The evidence of her crime was clear. She broke the engagement and was taken to the imperial prison to await execution."
The eunuch's sharp voice is still ringing in my ears.
The sound of footsteps came from far and near, breaking the dead silence.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
