Old Events of the Yan Dynasty

The sound of ritual music came from outside the palace again. I, the former puppet emperor Li Quelan, have always hated my sister, but what I didn't know was that on that snowy night when I was kneeling in front of the Tai Chi Hall, my sister secretly burned charcoal under the stone slab. "Sister, what should I do?" When I asked this question again and wanted a familiar voice to make the decision for him, I was instantly speechless. Looking back, my sister has been dead for twenty years. No one can make decisions for me anymore, I am already a true emperor. Jiangshan Sheji has returned to Li's hands, but his old friend is no longer where he was. "You look familiar." "This slave is Chen Daban's adopted daughter." Oh, sister, Chen Daban, and Uncle Liu, these dead people one after another, have always been pestering me for decades. "His Royal Highness, please give me your instructions - should I use gold or silver hairpins for the eldest princess's ceremony?" I suddenly laughed. They didn't know that the hairpin had long been broken in the incense burner of the Imperial Ancestral Temple.