A Filha Abandonada Retorna, Toda a Família da Mansão do Marquês se Ajoelha a Pedir Perdão

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At dusk, on the desolate burial grounds outside the capital.

Crows cawed atop the twisted branches. Amidst the overgrown mounds, the body of a young woman lay, her tattered clothing barely covering her. Though a faint breath lingered in her chest, it was clear her life was slipping away.

Beside her, an elderly woman with hair as white as snow trembled as she struggled to arrange the girl's clothing, shielding her fragile body. Blood and streaks of desperate tears marred the old woman's wrinkled face.

“My lady, it’s all my fault. This useless old servant failed you, failed the madam’s dying wishes! Oh, heavens, is there anyone who can save my mistress? I’d gladly give my life, repay such kindness with all my soul—” As she spoke, the old woman clung to the young lady, her wailing so grief-stricken it shamed even the cries of vengeful spirits. Her despair was chilling, her sorrow haunting.

Perhaps the heavens themselves pitied them. Suddenly, wind and rain lashed down in a furious tempest.

The sharp clatter of hooves split the storm, sending water and mud flying. Through the deluge, a dark horse burst onto the scene, shattering the helpless silence.

With a pull on the reins, the horse halted, nostrils flaring.

“I’m sorry I’m late, Sister!” Mu Wanwan swung off her horse, stumbling forward. Her face was streaked with water—whether tears or rain, it was impossible to tell—and she shook with a rage born of grief. She wore a narrow-sleeved, pitch-black robe, her hair bound simply with a wooden pin, both hair a