Winter, the twenty-seventh year of Yong'an.
The snow in the Forbidden City fell more intensely than in previous years. The goose-feather-like snowflakes were swept by the early wind and hit the mottled window lattice of the cold palace, making a whimpering sound, which was very much like Shen Qingci's broken breath at this moment.
She huddled on the cold earthen bed. Her once luxurious phoenix robe had long been torn into disarray. The exposed skin was covered with bruises, and there were still wet scabs at the corners of her mouth. The door of the palace was suddenly pushed open, and the cold wind carried the snow foam and poured in. She couldn't help but shiver. She looked up and saw the figure standing in the backlight. It was Shen Qingrou, whom she once regarded as her own sister.
Shen Qingrou was wearing a bright imperial concubine's dress, surrounded by pearls and emeralds, with undisguised pride and resentment between her eyebrows...
