The winter of the third year of Yongchang Dayong was extremely cold.
The heavy snow fell on the ground as if it was free, covering the entire capital tightly. Even the usually bustling Zhuque Street was mostly silent, leaving only the cold wind blowing the snow foam and whining into the cracks of people's bones. The study in the backyard of the Cabinet Office had a dim light, like a dying spark in the wind and snow.
