The physician wiped the sweat from his forehead and whispered to Song Lianhe, "Mrs. E has quite the temper. She's become even more volatile, especially after Mr. E's death..."
Before he could finish, he saw Song Lianhe staring blankly into the courtyard and then slowly walking inside.
"Mada—"
The physician snapped his mouth shut in fright and hurried in after her.
In the courtyard, an iron chain as thick as a child's arm was shackled to a woman's ankle. She was barefoot, and the iron ring had already ground her ankle into a bloody mess.
The woman was taller than average, with deep-set features, a high nose bridge, and sunken eyes—all characteristics of a foreign woman. 'A mixed-blood beauty!' Song Lianhe thought.
But at the time, the aesthetic standards of the Da Cheng Dynasty were rather conservative, and a beauty like Mrs. E was not appreciated.
Mrs. E's hair was disheveled, and she was currently throttling a guard.
