Shen Yinning lowered her gaze, quietly watching the pairs of shoes walk past her.
The cold wind swept through the small courtyard, dislodging the thin layer of snow from the tree branches, which cascaded onto her hair bun and dress.
She seemed immune to the chill, slowly pulling herself upright with the support of the tree trunk.
Her pale, delicate knuckles, etched with a jade-like hue from the cold, stood in stark contrast to the pomegranate-red brocade cuffs of her sleeves.
She lifted her head.
The barren, leafless branches carved a chaotic pattern against the sky, brown intertwined with grayish-white, blending into hues of bleakness. The Capital's winter was dry and monotonous, and spring felt so far away.
The girl's eyes were rimmed with red, her tears shimmering faintly, the weight of unbearable hatred swirling within.
Her fingertips clawed deeply into the tree bark.
