The Cold Palace, the coldest and most dilapidated corner of the Yongning Dynasty, has a lingering musty smell and despair in the air.
Lin Qingyan, a soul that traveled through time and space, lives in the body of this cold palace maid with the same name. Her biggest wish every day is to sleep.
That's right, sleep!
In this harem that eats people without spitting out their bones, lying down is the only way to stay alive, you understand?
No, the sun had just climbed up the wall, and Lin Qingyan was nestled on the shabby straw mat, sleeping soundly.
In the dream, she was holding a cup of fried chicken happy water and playing a certain sound when a sudden scream pulled her back from the embrace of modern civilization.
"Xiao Cui! Xiao Cui... She can't survive!" A sharp female voice cut through the silence of the cold palace.
Lin Qingyan turned over impatiently and buried his head in the tattered quilt.
