In the Forbidden City during the first year of the Yongzheng Emperor's reign, the December wind didn't just blow, it howled! Like a wild wolf wrapped in ice shards, it crashed against the golden tiles of the Qianqing Palace, emitting a whimpering scream. The newly enthroned Yinzhen, wrapped in the thickest black fox fur, sat upright on the golden dragon throne symbolizing supreme power. The throne was icy cold; the chill seeped through layers of brocade, penetrating straight to his bones. This cold wasn't from the freezing weather, but from the insidious chill that had clung to his heart ever since the Third Prince Zhu's blood was spilled at the execution ground. Far from being dispelled by the resplendent imperial aura after his ascension, it seemed to have found its lair, seeping even deeper into his marrow, occasionally...
