Then, Qin Qianluo spoke in a voice as gentle, melodious, and rhythmic as a babbling mountain stream.
She said softly, "Since the princess knows that those are heretical and false words, they are not to be believed. Nowadays, there are quite a few women in our dynasty who have entered officialdom, and there are even more women in the court."
At this point, Qin Qianluo paused slightly, looking at the Second Princess with a calm and firm gaze, her eyes shining with confidence and encouragement.
She straightened her body slightly, her posture as upright as a pine tree, exuding an undeniable majesty and power.
She took a deep breath and continued, "Even I, the only king of a different surname, am a woman."
"Princess, behold," she said, "this king, though not of the same surname, has never been criticized by the people of the land in the slightest. And has anyone ever ridiculed the late emperor?"
Qin Qianluo's words were firm and powerful, each word seemingly containing immense force, carrying an inspiring and resounding power.
The sound echoed slowly within the tranquil and solemn palace, striking Ning Yuanhe's heart like a resounding bell, gradually stirring up waves in her previously conflicted and hesitant mind.
It was as if a force was quietly awakening the courage and determination deep within her heart.
Ning Yuanhe's thoughts were suddenly swept up by a surging and icy undercurrent.
Instantly, Qin Qianluo's words pulled him into the world of Xuanyuan Kingdom, which his mother had once described in detail, as if it were cursed.
It was a land mired in a dark swamp, like a sinister and terrifying purgatory, where every inch of space was filled with a suffocating stench of decay.
It is filled with all sorts of horrific and inhumane scenes, like a dark scroll painted with blood and suffering.
In the Xuanyuan Kingdom, a woman's fate is mercilessly branded with tragedy from the moment she is born.
From a young age, they had to endure the inhumane torture of foot binding.
Her delicate feet were tightly bound together with layers of thick and tough strips of cloth.
The strips of cloth, like cold pythons, tightly bound their ankles, forcing their bones to twist and deform under the merciless restraint.
Every attempt to move a foot felt like a million steel needles piercing the soles of my feet, the excruciating pain spreading throughout my body like an electric shock.
Those faint cries of pain, like mournful shouts against the injustice of fate, could only fade away silently in a quiet and oppressive corner, unnoticed by anyone.
This cruel custom was nothing more than a way to cater to a distorted and morbid aesthetic, confining women to a small, narrow world.
Every step they take is accompanied by excruciating pain, and they suffer both physical and mental torment for the rest of their lives.
Struggling silently in an endless abyss of pain, yet unable to find a glimmer of hope for liberation.
In addition to the cruel physical torture, they were also forcibly indoctrinated with so-called "female precepts and virtues".
These dogmas were like invisible yet unbreakable shackles, firmly imprisoning women's minds.
From their first words to adulthood, they are taught to be careful with their words and actions and to be absolutely obedient to men.
You must bury your joys and sorrows deep in your heart and submit to the will of men.
Under such harsh discipline, women gradually lost their freedom and dignity as independent individuals, slowly becoming appendages to be arbitrarily controlled by others.
Like a puppet whose soul has been taken away, they are manipulated by others, losing their self-awareness and pursuits, becoming mercilessly controlled puppets, spending their lives in repression and numbness.
The extremely cruel system of human sacrifice was a grotesque manifestation of the dark side of the Xuanyuan Kingdom.
When a man in the family dies, the weak and helpless women may be forcibly taken to be buried with him.
In the gloomy and cold tomb, their terrified eyes were filled with extreme fear of death and a strong desire to live.
However, the merciless iron heel of worldly forces ruthlessly crushed their hopes.
Vibrant lives vanished in the darkness of fear and despair, becoming victims.
Their piercing screams and desperate tears are buried deep beneath the dust of history, silently condemning the cruelty and absurdity of this system.
Even if a woman is lucky enough to survive, she will be imprisoned for life by the so-called chastity arch.
A chastity archway, seemingly a reward for a woman's chastity, is in reality a heavy shackle that makes it hard to breathe.
Once a woman loses her beloved husband, she must bear this invisible yet incredibly heavy burden, struggling to survive in loneliness, depression, and despair throughout the long years.
Even the slightest action that goes against traditional values will subject them to the world's sharpest condemnation and criticism.
This memorial archway became a cage they could never escape, ruthlessly imprisoning their youth, freedom, and even happiness within it.
Like an invisible giant hand, it gripped their throats tightly, and they could not escape this heavy shackle until the end of their lives.
And then there's the chilling Tower of Baby Girls, a cold and merciless tower of death, the tragic final resting place for countless innocent baby girls.
Simply because they were girls, they were seen as a burden on their families and were ruthlessly abandoned in the tower immediately after birth.
Those faint and helpless cries seemed like a desperate protest against the injustice of this world.
However, this tender voice was mercilessly drowned out by the abyss of darkness and indifference.
Inside the tower, the baby girls await only the slow passing of their lives and a brief, painful experience of this strange world.
Every brick and stone in the tower seems to be soaked in the blood and tears of the baby girls, witnessing this inhuman tragedy being repeated time and time again.
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