Shen Qingwu swallowed her stepmother's poisoned wine and was reborn in a bridal sedan on her way to a marriage in someone else's place. In her previous life, she died on her wedding night. The last thing she saw was the cold, indifferent figure of Prince Jing, Xiao Heng, coughing up blood. This time, she forced herself to vomit the poison, lifted her own veil, and smiled at the frail prince in the wheelchair. “Your Highness, how about a deal? I know you won't live past next March, and I know you practice swordsmanship every night in the dead bamboo grove.”
A dark sword point pressed against her throat. The ice in Xiao Heng's eyes cracked. “Princess, you know too much.”
From the bridal sedan to the imperial palace, from a concubine-born daughter to a powerbroker who held the court in her grasp. She used her medical skills and foreknowledge to plan each step, while he cast off his sickly body and took command of life and death. As the plot to breach the Luo River's banks came to light and shadows loomed over the imperial throne, they became the sharpest sword and the strongest shield.
“Aw Wu, this realm is too heavy.” He took her hand, the one holding the sword. “Only when I hold it with you do I no longer feel the cold.”
