The gold bricks of the Taiji Palace were darkened by blood, and the empress's stern questioning voice when she fell off the cliff was still stuck to the cold beams in the palace, just like the rain-soaked window paper on the window lattice of the Crown Princess's former residence three years ago. Shao Ci stood in front of the dragon chair, and the hem of his black brocade robe was still dripping with snow from outside the palace - the first snow of winter fell in the capital today. It was like goose feathers and covered the glazed tiles on the top of the palace wall with no edges, which made the splendid imperial city appear somewhat sober.
He lowered his eyes and leaned his spear "Split Qiong" on the ground. The tip of the spear poked through the fine lines of the floor tiles and made a slight "click" sound, as if he was asking about the empty hall. There were hundreds of civil and military officials kneeling outside the palace, and there was silence. Only the crisp sound of the guards' armor leaves clashing, mixed with the rustle of snow particles hitting the eaves of the palace, made the palace that had just changed its owner feel particularly lonely.
