The Emperor and the Empress Are Not Easy to Mess With: If You Kill Me, I Will Be the One to Blame.

In the twelfth lunar month of winter, heavy goose feathers of snow drift from the sky, making people want to live by a charcoal fire. "Wow!" A basin of icy water was poured down on her head, and Nangong Ruyi suddenly realized. A biting coldness enveloped her. She squinted slightly, and the water droplets hung on her eyelashes and formed ice beads. Immediately afterwards, in addition to the cold, there was pain that penetrated into the bones.