Three o'clock in the morning, dead silence.
Ling Su's consciousness was awakened by a rough tug. The cold iron ring clicked tightly around her wrist, and the other end was connected to the heavy bedpost.
"Miss, I'm sorry." Two expressionless servants held her down and skillfully put her into a dazzling scarlet wedding dress.
The complicated patterns were designed for men. The robe was wide, but the fabric rubbed stiffly against her skin.
"Let me go!" Ling Su's voice was hoarse, but there was no panic in his eyes, only a chill that had been tempered by ice.
What answered her was the sharp sound of her stepmother Liu's fingernails painted with khaodan scratching the door panel.
"My good daughter, stop struggling." Liu's voice came through the crack in the door, with undisguised malice, "Your brother's body cannot withstand the torture."
Ling Su's heart sank suddenly.
She turned to look out the window, and through the narrow gap, she saw two tall servants holding a thin figure on the left and right. The figure was swaying in the night wind. It was her twin brother, Ling Chen.
His mouth was blocked and he could only whimper vaguely, his pale face full of despair.
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