I was the "dead wife" Prince Jing Xiao Heng had searched for for five years, and the "assassin" he personally sent to the dungeon. When the dungeon's cold water splashed across my face, the poison lingering in my chest flared up again. "Speak. Who sent you?" The man's voice was as cold as ice. His black boots pressed down on my fingers, raw with chilblains. I struggled to raise my head and looked at him through my tangled hair. It was Xiao Heng. Five years ago, on snowy days, he would tuck my cold hands into his robes and hoarsely call me "A Xue." But now he stood above me, the all-powerful Prince Jing, while I was nothing but someone who had disrupted his wedding ceremony
