Shen Qinghe had died on that bloody dusk three months ago. His father was accused of "collaboration with the enemy and corruption." The bluestones of the Shen family were soaked with blood. With the life that her mother had given her life for, she took off her skirt, hid her daughter in stiff men's clothes, and became Shen Xiudu, a "poor scholar".
The golden hairpin on her heart was warmed by her body temperature, and the vague writing on the inside of the hairpin was a clue to the memorial that her father had not handed over, and it was also her only obsession to break into Shanglin Academy. The snow fell on the tips of her hair, melted into water droplets, and slid down her jawline. It was as cold as tears, but she held it back forcefully.
From the moment she put on this green shirt, her world was only in black and white - black was the background of hatred, and white was the lonely courage in the snow. With the golden hairpin as the blade and obsession as the armor, she will tear apart the layers of disguise in this flashy and cruel Chang'an, let the truth be revealed in the snowy light, and let the innocent souls rest in peace.
She lowered her head, not daring to raise her eyes, for fear that the emotion in her eyes would reveal her identity, and she was even more afraid that someone would see through the rise and fall of her corset, and the daughter's love hidden in her bun. The snow in Chang'an was still falling, falling on her hair and shoulders, and it was biting cold, but it was far less cold than the cold in her heart - from the moment she put on this men's clothing, Shen Qinghe died, and the only one who survived was Shen Xiudu, who had vindicated his father.
