Jiang Nianqing had been married to the Shen family for two years, and her husband treated her as politely as if she were a decoration.
Neither cold nor hot, neither far nor near, all manners and manners - but no warmth.
The mother-in-law publicly hinted at taking a concubine, while the husband secretly communicated with the concubine of the Hou family, and the white jade bracelet he gave away was worn on someone else's wrist.
She didn't change color the whole time.
It's not that it doesn't hurt, it hurts so much that it's numb.
Everyone felt that she had resigned herself to her fate.
Only one person refused to allow her to accept her fate.
Regent Pei Heng.
The man who could decide the life or death of hundreds of officials in the court sat on the roof of her house in the middle of the night, just to see when the light in her window would go out.
He checked her husband's whereabouts in every detail.
He gave her medicine for her injuries, using the excuse that she had heard of a cold - she didn't have a cold, and he knew she didn't.
He stopped her on the corridor, his voice hoarse—
"It's been three years, and when you see me, you only call me these two words?"
The person you missed three years ago is still standing in the same place three years later.
Her marriage was dead.
And the crescent moon mark he pinched out in his palm was still bleeding.
When she finally decided to open the door - he said:
"Next time, I won't let you back out."
