In the row of dilapidated rooms in front of him, disorderly weeds grew everywhere. The broken plaque was mottled with paint and the original handwriting could not be seen clearly.
Perhaps 100 or 200 years ago, it was the long term residence of an imperial concubine that had been thrown into the cold palace. They would have lived the rest of their tragic life with an oil lamp in front of a Buddha––or maybe an old eunuch who had been very popular for a while but suddenly fell out of favor had hung himself there with a white ribbon. It was even more likely that it was neither of those things.
The rumors of ghosts in the Forbidden City had been talked about for a long time because there were so many unknown secrets in the Forbidden City.
