At three o'clock in the afternoon, the wind and snow outside Chengtian Hall suddenly stopped.
Chen Manxi stood at the end of the nine hundred and ninety-nine white marble steps. The twelve chapters on the black crown gown glowed dimly under the night pearl. Twelve white jade beads hung in front of his eyes, splitting the long river of fire stretching from his feet to the palace gate into tiny spots of light. She is waiting. Waiting for the third watch bell to ring, waiting for the etiquette officials to sing, waiting for this dynasty that took her fourteen years to climb from the cold palace to the throne, to truly bear her name.
"Your Majesty, the Yin period is approaching." The voice of Gao Wuyong, the palm eunuch, came from behind, carrying a tremor that was deliberately suppressed.
She didn't look back, her eyes fell on the dark crowd of people in court uniforms at the foot of the stairs. Imperial Master Xuan Chen stood at the front of the hundred officials, his snow-white beard and hair motionless in the wind, like a stone statue that had long been erected in the Ancestral Temple. Her younger brother Chen Jing'an stood half a step away from the Imperial Master, wearing a prince's python robe, slightly raising his head to look at her - with the familiar, gentle deer-like smile on his face.
Chen Manxi's left hand rested on the gilded armrest and she tightened it quietly.
