Five years ago, my half-brother coveted wealth and status and caused the death of An Shun, the eight-year-old son of the Prince of Zhenshan.
With our father’s protection, every witness was bribed, and I was made to take the blame.
The Prince of Zhenshan stormed into the marquis’s residence, tied me behind his horse, and dragged me for hundreds of meters, swearing I would pay for the death in blood.
My own sister, born of the same mother, pleaded with me:
“Haoran was just confused for a moment. He’s been spoiled since he was little and can’t endure hardship. How could he be exiled to a frozen wasteland like Ningguta? Take his place.”
I shouted myself hoarse, explaining again and again, but no one was willing to listen.
The next day, the Prince of Zhenshan personally escorted me into exile, and all of Bianjing came out to watch.
Xie Haoran hid behind our father, grinning smugly at me.
My sister stood nearby, gently patting his back to comfort him.
Five years later, my half-brother got engaged to my fiancée.
A procession of ten miles of wedding gifts filled every street in Bianjing.
Only then did my sister remember me and personally bring me home.
Don't hold back, it's just a fantasy before Turtle's death.