The snow in the Forbidden City always carries a bone-chilling coldness.
Meizhuang was lying on the soft couch in the side hall of Yong'an Palace, his breathing was as weak as a wisp of smoke that was about to disperse. The candlelight in the hall flickered, reflecting the mess on the ground. The medicine bowl was broken on the ground. The brown medicine juice soaked the blue bricks, and the cold air mixed with the snow water penetrated into the bone marrow.
