Winter, the thirty-first year of Qianlong's reign.
Wei Yingluo coughed up blood and ran her fingertips over the smooth coral bracelet. It was Fu Heng's first gift to her, and it was also proof of her heartbeat when she was young. She thought of the stitches in the embroidery workshop, the warm sun in Changchun Palace, Fu Heng's words "I protect you" in the Imperial Garden, Queen Rongyin's gentle smile, Mingyu holding back the glass of poisonous wine for her, Er Qing's twisted face, Concubine Xian's calculations, and Qianlong's eyes that were always weighing and testing.
In this life, she avenged her sister, avenged her empress, and avenged her friends. She fought through all obstacles in the harem, from a little embroiderer to the position of an imperial concubine. But she won everything, but lost everyone who wanted to cherish her.
"The Queen, Master Fu Heng, Mingyu..." She called softly, her voice as weak as a candle in the wind, "Yingluo is so tired in this life. If there is an afterlife, I wish not to enter the palace again. I wish to live in peace and happiness with you year after year."
Blood foam overflowed from the corner of his mouth, staining the plain brocade handkerchief, and the candle flame jumped suddenly and went out. The snow outside the window is even heavier, covering the eaves of Chengqian Palace, as if it wants to bury all the love, hate, and hatred in the world under the pure white.
At the last moment when her consciousness dissipated, she seemed to see Fu Heng walking towards her, wearing a white shirt, his eyebrows as before, reaching out to call her: "Yingluo, come with me."
She reached out to hold it, but she only touched a cold void.
If there was an afterlife, she thought, she would definitely protect the people she wanted to protect and make those who did evil pay the due price. She would definitely let the wind and rain in the Forbidden City no longer wet everyone she cared about.
If there is an afterlife, she will definitely live the way she wants, no longer burdened by other people's calculations, and no longer bound by the emperor's favor.
The red walls are towering, the red doors are deeply closed, and a prosperous life will eventually turn into dust.
And deep in the dust and smoke, a wisp of obsession persists, turning into an opportunity for rebirth, returning to the time when he first entered the palace.
Purpose: rebirth