Sharing Snow (3)

Snow fell in flurries, soaking into homes across the realm.

Some families were reunited in fullness; others were cold and desolate.

At the summit of Nine Dragon Mountain, the Palace of Earthly Tranquility ought to have been solemn and profound. Yet amid the snow sweeping across the heavens, this palace that embodied the mother of the realm carried a hint of pale decay.

The collapse of power could be the dripping water that wore through stone, causing a thousand-mile dike to crumble from an ant's nest; it could also be the sweeping force of heavenly might, crushing everything overnight like withered branches.

Standing before the towering hall, Li Zhaoyuan gazed at its vermilion beams and jade tiles, lavishly carved and painted, and at the deep palace gates below—once monsters that seemed capable of devouring people. He stood there, blankly lost in thought.

The dark-red stains formed as snow melted upon the vermilion railings reminded Li Zhaoyuan of a rainy night long, long ago. His mother had held him as she curled up and knelt before the memorial hall of the Cold Palace, while the imperial carriage of the Emperor and Empress had rolled over the puddles on the bluestone road.

Back then, the Emperor and Empress had stood so high above all others that a single word from them could decide the life or death of him and his mother consort. Yet now, she could only huddle in her own palace like a sick beast, barely clinging to life as she wagged her tail and begged for mercy.

Li Zhaoyuan wanted to laugh, yet could not.

He had spent the first half of his life reaching this place, treading upon the dry bones of countless people along the way. He had thought himself prepared for everything, but when it all