45丞相大人丞相嫡长女
穿越四十五天，以下是一篇古代虐文：
隆冬，大雪纷飞，整个京城被银白覆盖。苏瑶身着单薄的囚衣，蜷缩在阴暗潮湿的大牢角落，眼神空洞地望着牢门外。
她曾是尚书府的千金，与太子萧衍青梅竹马。幼时，他们在尚书府的花园中嬉戏，他为她捉来蝴蝶，笑着说：“瑶瑶，你比这蝴蝶还美，我以后定要娶你为妻。”那时的阳光温暖，他的承诺如金。
后来，萧衍登基为帝，苏瑶满心欢喜地以为能与他共赏这万里江山，成为他的皇后。然而，宫廷的斗争远比她想象的残酷。奸佞之臣为了巩固自己的势力，向皇帝进谗言，说苏瑶的父亲意图谋反。萧衍听信了谗言，在一个深夜，派兵包围了尚书府。
苏瑶眼睁睁看着父亲被官兵拖走，母亲为了保护她，被乱刀砍死在她面前。她想向萧衍解释，可等来的却是他冷漠的眼神和一纸诏书——苏家满门抄斩，苏瑶打入天牢。
在牢狱中，苏瑶受尽折磨。她不明白，曾经那个与她海誓山盟的人，为何如此绝情。她一次次地在梦中回到过去，回到他们无忧无虑的时光，可每次醒来，只有冰冷的墙壁和无尽的黑暗。
终于，到了行刑的日子。苏瑶被押到刑场，她的目光在人群中搜寻，多希望能看到萧衍来救她，哪怕只是一个解释。然而，直到刽子手举起屠刀，她都没有看到他的身影。
“萧衍，你我终究是错付了……”苏瑶闭上双眼，泪从眼角滑落。屠刀落下，雪花纷纷扬扬地洒在她渐渐冰冷的身体上。
而在皇宫中，萧衍独坐御书房，手中紧握着苏瑶送给他的玉佩，眼神痛苦而迷茫。他并非真的相信苏家谋反，只是为了稳住朝堂局势，不得不牺牲苏家。他以为只要暂时隐忍，日后定能为苏瑶一家平反，再接她回宫。却不想，等他安排好一切，准备去救苏瑶时，传来的却是她已被斩首的消息。
他疯了似的跑到刑场，只看到苏瑶冰冷的尸体。他抱起她，仰天悲啸，声音在雪地里回荡，却再也唤不回他心爱的女子。
此后，萧衍终身未立皇后。每到下雪的日子，他都会独自坐在御花园的亭中，望着曾经与苏瑶一起玩耍的地方，久久不语，仿佛她从未离去。
残阳如血，染红了冷宫的断壁残垣。沈清辞蜷缩在冰冷的地面上，破旧的衣衫根本抵挡不住深秋的寒意。她的视线落在窗外那株早已枯萎的海棠上，恍惚间，仿佛又看到了初见时的情景。
那年她还是太傅府的嫡女，他是尚未登基的七皇子。御花园的海棠开得正好，他一身月白锦袍，笑着递给她一支沾着晨露的花枝：“清辞，这花配你。”那时的风是暖的，他的眼神是真的，她以为往后余生，便是琴瑟和鸣，岁月静好。
他登基后，她成了他的皇后。可后宫从来不是净土，奸臣构陷，外戚作梗，他渐渐对她生出了嫌隙。他听信宠妃的谗言，以为她用巫蛊之术诅咒皇嗣，盛怒之下，废了她的后位，将她打入冷宫。他亲手摔碎了她最爱的那把琵琶，断弦划破了她的手，鲜血滴在地上，像极了那年海棠的颜色。
她在冷宫里日复一日地等，等他醒悟，等他来接她。可等来的，却是他赐下的一杯毒酒。送酒的太监面无表情地宣读圣旨，字字句句都像冰锥扎进她的心里。她抬起头，望着灰蒙蒙的天空，轻声问：“陛下……还记得那年的海棠吗？”
太监没有回答，只是催促她快点饮下。她颤抖着端起酒杯，泪水终于忍不住滑落。她想起他曾说过会护她一生一世，想起他们在桃花树下许下的诺言，想起他为她描眉时的温柔……原来，那些都只是镜花水月，一场空梦。
毒酒入喉，剧痛瞬间蔓延全身。她倒在地上，意识渐渐模糊，最后映入眼帘的，是窗外那株枯萎的海棠，和记忆里那个笑着递给她花枝的少年。
他后来终究是知道了真相，是宠妃自导自演了一切。他疯了一样冲进冷宫，却只看到她冰冷的身体，和她手里紧紧攥着的那支早已干枯的海棠花枝。他抱着她的尸体，一遍遍地喊着她的名字，声音嘶哑，悔恨噬心。可无论他怎么喊，她都不会再回应了。
那年冬天，雪下得特别大，覆盖了整个皇宫。他独自一人坐在空置的坤宁宫，手里拿着那支干枯的海棠，一夜白头。此后，他再也没有立过皇后，后宫的海棠，也再也没有开过。
Forty-Five Days of Time Travel
Here is an ancient tragic story:
It was midwinter， with heavy snowfall covering the entire capital in silver. Su Yao， dressed in a thin prison uniform， huddled in the dark， damp corner of the cell， her eyes hollow as she stared outside the cell door.
She had once been the daughter of the Minister of Rites， and childhood sweethearts with Crown Prince Xiao Yan. In her childhood， they played in the garden of the Minister's mansion. He caught a butterfly for her and smiled， saying，“Yaoyao， you're more beautiful than this butterfly. I'll marry you as my wife when I grow up.“ The sun was warm then， and his promise was as precious as gold.
Later， Xiao Yan ascended the throne as emperor. Su Yao满心欢喜， thinking she would share the vast land with him and become his empress. However， palace struggles were far crueler than she imagined. To consolidate their power， treacherous officials slandered to the emperor， claiming Su Yao's father intended to rebel. Xiao Yan listened to the slander and， one深夜， sent troops to surround the Minister's mansion.
Su Yao watched helplessly as her father was dragged away by soldiers. Her mother， trying to protect her， was hacked to death in front of her by the disorderly blades. She wanted to explain to Xiao Yan， but all she received was his cold gaze and an imperial edict—the entire Su family was to be executed， and Su Yao was thrown into the sky prison.
In prison， Su Yao endured endless torture. She couldn't understand why the man who once swore eternal love to her could be so绝情. She repeatedly dreamed of the past， of their carefree days， but every time she woke， there was only the cold wall and endless darkness.
Finally， the day of execution arrived. Su Yao was escorted to the execution ground. Her eyes searched the crowd， hoping to see Xiao Yan come to save her， even if just to explain. Yet， until the executioner raised his blade， she never caught sight of him.
“Xiao Yan， after all， we wasted our feelings on each other...“ Su Yao closed her eyes， tears sliding from the corner of her eyes. The blade fell， and snowflakes fluttered down， covering her gradually cold body.
In the palace， Xiao Yan sat alone in his study， tightly clutching the jade pendant Su Yao had given him， his eyes filled with pain and confusion. He hadn't truly believed the Su family would rebel; he'd had to sacrifice them to stabilize the court situation. He thought that with temporary patience， he could later redress the injustice for Su Yao's family and bring her back to the palace. But by the time he'd arranged everything and was ready to save her， the news came that she'd already been beheaded.
He rushed to the execution ground like a maniac， only to see Su Yao's cold body. He lifted her， roaring mournfully to the sky， his voice echoing through the snow—yet it could never call back his beloved.
After that， Xiao Yan never appointed another empress. Every snowy day， he would sit alone in the pavilion of the imperial garden， gazing at the place where he once played with Su Yao， silent for hours， as if she had never left.
The setting sun was as red as blood， dyeing the broken walls of the cold palace. Shen Qingci huddled on the icy ground; her tattered clothes offered no protection against the late autumn chill. Her gaze fell on the withered crabapple tree outside the window， and in a trance， she seemed to see the scene of their first meeting again.
That year， she was still the legitimate daughter of the Grand Tutor's mansion， and he was the seventh prince who hadn't yet ascended the throne. The crabapples in the imperial garden were in full bloom. He， in a moon-white brocade robe， smiled and handed her a flower branch with morning dew:“Qingci， this flower suits you.“ The wind was warm then， his eyes sincere， and she thought the rest of her life would be filled with harmonious music and peaceful years.
After he ascended the throne， she became his empress. But the harem was never a pure land. Treacherous officials framed her， and relatives meddled; gradually， he grew suspicious of her. He listened to the favored concubine's slander， believing she'd used witchcraft to curse the imperial heirs. Enraged， he deposed her as empress and threw her into the cold palace. He personally smashed her favorite pipa; the broken strings cut her hand， and blood dripped onto the ground， much like the color of the crabapples that year.
Day after day， she waited in the cold palace， waiting for him to come to his senses， waiting for him to fetch her. But what came was a cup of poisoned wine he'd sent. The eunuch delivering it read the imperial edict expressionlessly， each word like an ice pick piercing her heart. She looked up at the gray sky and whispered，“Your Majesty... do you still remember the crabapples of that year?“
The eunuch didn't answer， only urging her to drink quickly. She tremblingly picked up the cup， tears finally spilling over. She remembered he once said he'd protect her all his life， remembered the vows they'd made under the peach blossom tree， remembered the tenderness when he drew her eyebrows... It turned out those were all illusions， empty dreams.
The poisoned wine burned down her throat， and intense pain spread through her body instantly. She collapsed to the ground， consciousness fading. The last thing she saw was the withered crabapple tree outside the window， and the boy in her memory who'd smiled and handed her the flower branch.
He eventually learned the truth—that the favored concubine had staged everything. He rushed into the cold palace like a maniac， only to find her cold body， with the long-dried crabapple branch tightly clutched in her hand. He held her body， calling her name over and over， his voice hoarse， regret gnawing at his heart. But no matter how he shouted， she would never respond again.
That winter， the snow was particularly heavy， covering the entire palace. He sat alone in the empty Kunning Palace， holding that dried crabapple branch， his hair turning white overnight. After that， he never appointed another empress， and the crabapples in the harem never bloomed again.