"Mother, this glass of poisonous wine is a gift from Your Majesty." When the eunuch's high-pitched voice pierced the dead silence of the cold palace, I was staring at the festering frostbite on my palm in a daze. The memory of the past life overlapped perfectly with the scene in front of her - Su Wanrou's forged private letter was still spread out on the table, the afterimage of Xiao Jingyao's yellow clothes passing over the threshold was burned into his eyes, and in the glass cup handed over by Xie Jinglan himself, the strawberry-flavored poison was glowing with a sweet pink light.
