I am an old palace maid.
I have spent thirty-five full years in this deep palace.
The Chinese parasol tree before Qingliang Hall flourishes year after year, while I grow older with each passing year.
In this lifetime, I have seen the young and inexperienced Consort Zhen pass away, the Consort Yu in the prime of her beauty pass away, and even the white-haired Empress pass away.
They all died in the bloom of youth, crushed beneath the weight of imperial power.
Within these deep palace walls, how many beautiful women’s skeletons lie buried?