The Yong Dynasty has been in existence for three hundred years. The capital city is as prosperous as a woven fabric, and the palace city is as majestic as a prison.
It's midwinter, and a heavy snowfall has covered the entire Forbidden City in white, but it can't hide the coldness inside the high walls.
Broken Yuxuan.
The name has the word "jade" in it, but in fact not even a complete tile can be found. This is the most remote palace garden next to the Cold Palace. The window paper has been broken for several months. The cold wind is like a knife tempered with ice, getting in through every gap, whimpering like a lonely soul imprisoned.
Su Qingwan let out a breath of white air, and used her fingers, which were red from the cold, to smooth out the last bit of rice paste stuck to the window. The lining of the cotton-padded jacket she was wearing was already stiff and was no longer useful.
