In the first year of Taiping, when Shen Qingci entered the palace with imperial decree, the whole city said that the concubine of the Shen family had great luck.
She didn't know at that time that the word "Jin Fei" was not a reward, but a judgment.
After ten years in the palace, she once thought that the burning in Xiao Jingheng's eyes was sincerity, she once thought that the warmth in Xie Yunshu's palm was a sister, and she once thought that the good stories about "virtuous concubines" and "wise kings" in the history books were within her reach.
It wasn't until the first child turned into blood that she saw clearly - it turned out that she was a tool, and the purpose of living was to wait to be filled into the furnace called "Jiangshan".
The history pen is like a knife, cutting bones into simplicity:
He is a wise king who works hard to govern, and she is a beloved concubine who becomes ill with worries.
The truth curls in tongues of fire:
He was the arsonist who added fuel to the fire with his own hands, and she was the fuel pickled by the system.
On the final day, heavy snow fell on the palace city, and she stood at the highest point of the Star-Zhaing Tower. Under her feet was the most gorgeous cage of the century-old dynasty.
"Xiao Jingheng," she called the emperor by his name for the first and last time, "you see clearly——"
"Is the ashes of my burned flesh and blood enough to nourish your thousands of miles of mountains and rivers?"
The sea of fire engulfed the ancient book that had not completed the last page.
The new emperor ascended the throne and everything changed.
But from then on, every snowy night, someone would always see a bright yellow figure standing alone on the palace wall, looking for a long time at the scorched earth that no longer sprouted new buds.
Historical records: Concubine Jin Shen died in the winter of the third year of Taiping due to illness.
Unofficial history says: That fire burned for three days and three nights, burning through the centuries-old foundation of Dayong.
And deep within the ashes, no one knows——
A smile played on her lips as she jumped.
Intent: "The systematic dissolution of individual life under the feudal etiquette system - when love and human nature are alienated by power and turned into fuel, ashes are the inevitable end."
