In the winter of Jihong's thirteenth year, it snowed heavily.
I sat in front of the mirror, corrected my clothes and appearance, and quietly waited for the verdict of the high-spirited monarch in the Heyang Palace.
The face in the crystal mirror has red lips and white teeth, picturesque eyebrows, and a dot of vermilion on the forehead that is as bright as rouge. If she was born into a girl's family, she would grow up to be a witch who would conquer the country, and would also be a disaster to the people.
It's just a pity that this is my face.
The face of a subjugated prince who had just turned ten.