By the next morning, fine snow was fluttering down.
Outside the wide and imposing gates of the Prince Mansion, its grandeur was now but a memory, stripped bare by confiscation. A few constables stood guard, as the sprawling estate was earmarked for future use by the Heavenly Family—whether for a temple, a pavilion, or a poetic academy, this mansion was the prime candidate for such plans.
But today, three unexpected guests arrived at the gates.
When the constables saw the emblem presented by the man leading the group, they dared not block their way. Instead, they deferentially pushed the gates open, allowing the trio to enter together.
"Ah-choo."
Crossing the threshold, Yin Tingxue sneezed, shivering from the cold. Her neck drew inward as if to ward off the chill.
