Cold!
The biting coldness penetrated into the seams of bones along the soaked clothing, making Shen Qingci tremble all over. His throat was dry and painful, as if there were countless fine needles pricking him, and every breath he took was filled with a rusty smell.
She opened her eyes suddenly, and her vision was blurred for a while before it gradually became clear. What she saw was the low and dilapidated roof beams. There were still leaks in the roof. The cold wind blew the snow foam in, and it fell on her face with a biting coldness. Under her body was a hard wooden bed, covered with a thin layer of damp straw. The bedding was dirty and torn, exuding a musty and sweaty smell that made her almost cough.
This is not her boudoir - the Qingyan Residence where the eldest daughter of the Zhenguo Palace should live. It has carved beams and painted beams, and a stove and incense. How could it be so dilapidated?
This is... Jing Si Yuan?
