The winds that whispered through the streets of the capital seemed colder than usual, as if they carried the breath of death itself.
The air hung heavy with mourning, and an eerie stillness blanketed the imperial city.
Flags of white fluttered solemnly on every building, and the palace gates, once adorned with scarlet banners and gilded finery, now stood stripped, their austerity casting a shadow across the hearts of all who passed.
News of the Emperor's death had swept through the empire like wildfire, but it was not grief alone that stirred the masses. No—rumors, vile and persistent, slithered through the alleys and markets, whispered from mouth to mouth with both terror and glee.
The Empress and the Prime Minister—was it true? Had they truly been lovers all these years? Had they conspired to poison the Emperor and take the throne for their illegitimate son, Zhao Ling Xu?
