After waiting for years, I finally received the divorce papers.
But could you at least wait until I've registered them with the authorities before raiding our home and sending us into exile?
Protecting the family's beloved concubine and young children, I struggled along the road to exile. Just as we were nearing our destination, I discovered that the place of exile had become rebel territory.
The guards escorting us were killed. After barely managing to escape, I transformed into a refugee fleeing famine with my family.
Hey, you, could you stay farther away? We're not close.
What do you mean, a widow remarrying? If I marry, it'll be a brave and stalwart man. As for you, go sit somewhere cool. So why can't I stop my heart from pounding?
