The blue bricks before the Chuxiu Palace had grown scorching under the May sun.
Jiang Xuening lowered her head, her nose filled with the cloying stench of cheap jasmine hair oil mixed with sweat. Two layers of thin cloth cushioned her knees. She had been kneeling for half an hour, and her lower legs had long since gone numb, as if thousands of ants were biting between her bones.
In her previous life, she had knelt on these very bricks until her dignity was broken.
Back then, she was an insignificant concubine-born daughter of the Assistant Minister of Revenue, always on tenterhooks, afraid that one wrong step would bring trouble upon her family. Later, she was selected as a Talented Lady. She endured twelve years in the deep palace, rising to become a Noble Consort. At last, when she drank the cup of poisoned wine that reeked of bitter almonds, the whole palace was setting off fireworks to celebrate the new emperor's ascension.
