Plum Blossom Fragrance in the Snow

Five years ago, Shen Wanyan was selling calligraphy on the street when the emperor, traveling incognito, casually bestowed her upon the newly enfeoffed Ninth Prince as a concubine. A little over a month after the princess consort entered the household, Xie Mingxiao never set foot in Shen Wanyan's courtyard again. She held a book, her fingertips reddened by the cold, while a dull ache throbbed in her abdomen. The princess consort sent over a bowl of soup, saying the prince had praised it too. That night, she woke in agony to find warm clots of blood flowing beneath her. The young apothecary tending the medicine stove said, “The prince is in the garden, enjoying tea with the princess consort.” Shen Wanyan gazed at the snowy light outside her window and finally understood: Those sweet words had been nothing but a passing draft.