Twelve-year-old Ning Ci knelt on the gilt brick and watched her father push King Hao's seal in front of her.
"Now that I have been granted the title of king, I will go to Yanbei for Wei tomorrow to see the snow." The emperor's voice sounded like it was mixed with ice. All the officials below the steps lowered their heads and held their breath. No one dared to look at the third prince's pale face.
Before this day, she thought that the biggest pain in life was to wrap her breasts too tightly and imitate men's posture when dressing up as a man. Only then did she understand that "the house of the ruthless emperor since ancient times" was by no means an empty phrase.
Small theater:
In the bridal chamber where the red candle was burning, Jiang Jiu hadn't yet swallowed the Hexin wine in her mouth when she saw Ning Ci untied her complicated wedding dress. Under the dress were mottled scars and tightly wrapped white silk.
Jiang Jiu's pupils shrank sharply, and the next moment, the golden scissors used to cut and tie the hair were pressed against the other person's throat, "So you've been lying to me?"
Ning Ci's fingertips pressed on her lips, "Shh, it's too late to regret it now."
The candle flames burst into flames, and Jiang Jiu suddenly remembered that in the snow that year, the hands that lifted her chin with the folding fan had the same arc as hers, which was only found in a daughter's home.
Purpose: Only through struggle can we live a good life
