The first snow of the thirty-ninth year of Jiajing fell with startling suddenness.
Shen Xitang stood on the white marble plaza outside the Meridian Gate, watching the palace servants climb wooden ladders to hang white funerary banners. The plain, white silk flickered in the biting wind like countless struggling souls.
Snowflakes landed on her eyelashes, quickly melting into droplets that slid down her cheeks. When they touched the unhealed wound at the corner of her mouth, they brought a faint, stinging pain.
Chapter 101