In her past life, Jiang Xue knelt in the snow and coughed up the last of her blood. Not one of the 137 members of her household survived. Only as she lay dying did she realize that the person closest to her was the one most capable of driving a knife into her back. And the poor scholar she had misunderstood for years was locked away in the imperial prison, covering an entire wall with her name. He kept writing even after his fingers broke. She married someone else. It wasn't that she didn't love him. She had simply trusted the wrong person. By the time she saw the truth, it was too late. When she opened her eyes again, she had returned to that winter. She wouldn't eat anything Yu Wei sent her, or touch a single thing. Shen Bin, this time I'll be the one to find you. I won't misunderstand you. I won't marry someone else. I won't take that path again. He didn't know she carried memories of her past life. All he knew was that this daughter of the prime minister looked at him as if she had searched for him in the snow for ages, and had finally found him.
