In the deep night, the latter half brought a pattering cold rain.
The Jiang Family seemed to be shrouded in a cloud of sorrow in such darkness.
Accompanied by a suffocating haze of rain mist.
When Prince Qing entered Jiang Ying's courtyard, he did not find her.
Yet, outside the room where Jiang Mian briefly stayed, he found Jiang Ying's silhouette.
She sat there stupefied, as if her soul had been extracted, hugging her knees and staring blankly at a certain spot in the courtyard.
Prince Qing walked over and draped a pre-prepared warm garment over her shoulders.
Then, he sat beside her: "My condolences."
Jiang Ying spoke in a lost murmur, her voice hoarse from previous sobbing.
"How can I find solace? What wrong did Jiang Mian do? She was so kind, why did heaven treat her like this?"
"She originally could have lived without enduring Cuicui's hardships, Li Zhuangnian, that scum, stabbed her over a dozen times, the forensic doctor said the most fatal was on the neck."
