Royal spring hunt, flag hunt.
Prince Xiao Heng, wearing black cloak and black cloak, was riding a horse and leading hundreds of riders to clear the way. His power silenced all the beasts in the paddock.
The Jiangnan Weaving Mansion presented a tribute satin, and the youngest daughter of the Su family who was accompanying them stood at the end of the table, holding her breath and lowering her head. She felt that the figure sitting high on the horse's back was like ice in the cold abyss, out of reach.
During the banquet, the daughter of the Minister of Rites, a daughter of the Ministry of Etiquette, specially changed into her own newly made silk brocade clothes, surrounded by pearls and emeralds, and bowed gracefully in front of the prince's throne, with a smile as bright as a flower: "This brocade is a new tribute from the south of the Yangtze River, decorated with pearls from the East China Sea, I hope it will win the favor of His Highness."
Xiao Heng's eyes were swept by the wind, and his thin lips were slightly opened: "This brocade is flashy and unrealistic, and is not needed for hunting." His voice was cold, but like a hammer, and the noise around him instantly froze. The noble girl's smile froze on her face, and she backed away in panic.
The Su family's youngest daughter's fingertips trembled, and the tea cup almost fell to the ground. She thought that this prince was indeed as cold and formidable as the rumors said.
More than a month later, the prince's private garden.
The youngest daughter of the Su family was ordered to go to the garden to take care of the embroidery given by the emperor. Encountering her by chance in the corridor, she hurriedly saluted, her skirt brushing against the blue bricks, leaving a faint fragrance.
Xiao Heng didn't stop, but at the moment when they brushed against each other, a deep voice fell into her ears: "I heard that Su's acupuncture method is the best in Jiangnan, but the front of my riding uniform was accidentally damaged yesterday."
She raised her eyes in astonishment, only to catch his black back, and the golden cloud patterns on his sleeves flashed harshly in the sunlight.
It's late at night and the candlelight is dim.
She knelt down on the brocade cushion, twirling a golden thread as thin as hair with her fingertips, holding her breath and concentrating on sewing up the tiny crack for him. The tip of the needle wandered around, as if it could touch the tight texture under his clothes, and his cheeks were lightly filled with clouds.
Suddenly, a hand with sharp bones stretched out, its fingertips were slightly cold, and with unquestionable strength, he gently lifted her chin.
The candlelight leaped into his eyes, and the usual ice and snow actually melted away, giving him a sense of warmth. His eyes passed over the seamless stitches in her hand, and his deep voice was tinged with a hint of hoarseness:
"I thought," his eyes were deep, locking her trembling eyelashes, "the hands of Jiangnan embroiderers only know how to wear flowers and brocade. It turns out that... They can also mend the scars of people's hearts."
Since then, the most dexterous needle in the south of the Yangtze River has quietly pierced the deep cold ice of the East Palace.
He was the supreme crown prince of the Dayin Dynasty, and she was the dust-free young lady of the Zhizao Mansion.
From the figure at the end of the table who hung her head with bated breath, to the princess who dominates the prince's heart.
The cold and profound prince of the prison x the much-loved young lady
Purpose: Grow into a better version of yourself in warmth and protection.