My older sister was about to be married when a serial rapist attacked her.
In a single night, her reputation was destroyed and her engagement broken off.
Father fell ill with rage; Mother cried herself blind.
And the rapist?
He became the personal guard of a princess from a marquis’s household.
The gentle, kindhearted princess said, “Ah Qing isn’t bad at heart.
He only made a mistake because he briefly lost his way.”
Later, I killed the child she had struggled so hard to conceive.
My sister, now a prince’s wife, took her hand and said gently, “My little sister isn’t bad at heart.
It was only an accident that led her to do something wrong.”
But the princess’s face twisted with hatred, her eyes venomous.
All her former gentleness and kindness were gone.
