Flowers Bloom Even Through Ash and Snow

In the waterside pavilion of the Imperial Entertainment Bureau, I wore a newlywed dress made from my father's bloodstained clothes and put myself up for auction. Below the stage, Left Chancellor Xie Jiwei raised his cup and said he wanted to inspect me before paying. I undid my belt, revealing the character for “prostitute,” branded into my waist with a hot iron. A blood-letter slipped from beneath my inner garment into his palm. He looked down, only to find the private seal on the paper was the very one he had personally stamped on my father's severed wrist.