In the capital city in the late winter, the snow has not yet melted and has been crushed into filthy icy mud by the traffic and horses, just like Su Yao's mood at the moment.
She wrapped her body in a slightly loose cotton robe, and tied her black hair tightly under the scholar's square scarf. Her face, which was originally as smooth as jade, was deliberately smeared with a little gray at this moment. Only her eyes were still as clear as stars, but they were filled with panic and pain that did not match her age.
The sky-high flames of the Prime Minister's Mansion, the miserable howls of her relatives and servants, the warm jade pendant that her mother stuffed into her hand before she left, and the old housekeeper who desperately protected her from death in the darkness... The scenes, which she dreamed about every night, bit at her soul.
"Yao'er... Live on... Wear it... Never look back..." Her mother's final instructions and the faint warmth from the jade pendant are her only remaining support in this cold world.
