Blood Sacrifice to Zhong Lu

She used elegant music as a blade to play a long bloody song. In the twelfth lunar month of winter, the sound of my sister's pipa was shattered under the whip marks of Prince Gong's palace. A pipa with broken strings and stained with blood was exchanged for my deed of betrayal for a copper coin. After I played "Tian Zuo", the name of Lady Jinsheng spread throughout the capital. They don't know that I count the twelve rhythms of the chimes every night: Huang Zhong is the blood foam coughed up by my sister, Da Lu is the winter coat she pawned, and Tai Tu is the key swinging around the jailer's waist. Until Prince Ding tied the apricot blossom hairpin to my temple, I stopped him with a smile. When elegant music has become a fig leaf for machinations, I will be the hammer that splits the shackles of ritual music. Jiaofangsi's rouge is soaked into the bones, and Lu Lefang's voiceless voice hides murderous intent. Sister, listen, this death knell sounds much clearer than the chimes. From a copper coin to a phoenix chair, some people called me a disaster, some people praised me as a holy queen, but no one saw it: There was a heavy snowfall that year, and there was a girl who couldn't keep warm, not just her sister's cold hands.