The moment I opened my eyes, there was still a burning sensation from the poisonous wine in my throat.
The burning pain spread from my throat to my stomach, as if someone poured a pot of boiling molten iron into my internal organs. I remember that I fell on the dilapidated threshold of the cold palace, my mouth full of blood foam, and I didn't even have the strength to shout for help. The man wearing the official uniform of the guard commander stood in front of me, watching me die with an expressionless face.
I remember his face. Gu Yehan.
The little guard who had been guarding the cold palace for three years suddenly became the new emperor's confidant and personally brought the cup of poisonous wine.
He said, "Mother, please."
