Yao Zhenyun stiffly turned aside. Two maids carried the struggling "bride" and practically dragged her past him.
The strong smell of medicine and a faint whiff of blood once again filled his nostrils. He lowered his eyes, not looking at the person under the red veil, but followed silently, leaving the suffocating room.
Mrs. Sand stood alone in the empty room, her eyes sweeping over the mess of medicine and debris on the floor, her face still expressionless. She walked to the window and looked at the carriage parked alone at the courtyard gate in the twilight.
Yao Zhenyun mounted his horse, his movements filled with suppressed ferocity. He glanced back at the tightly closed window of Taxueyuan, where a vague shadow seemed to be visible.
He yanked the reins and spurred the horse forward. The coachman received the signal, cracked his whip in the air, and the wheels rolled over the bluestone road, making a monotonous and heavy "rumble" sound, carrying the bound bride into the depths of the twilight.
Mrs. Sand stood behind the window until the carriage completely disappeared in the increasingly dense dusk, becoming a small black dot before finally disappearing. She then slowly turned around, her face still as icy and calm as if what she had just sent away was just a piece of old stuff that needed to be disposed of.
…
The carriage bumped along the official road, its curtains blocking out the last rays of sunlight outside. The interior was shrouded in darkness, with only the monotonous creaking of wheels and the clatter of horses' hooves echoing in the dead silence.
The "bride," tied up like a dumpling and thrown into the corner of the carriage, suddenly began to struggle violently. The hemp ropes rubbed against her wedding dress, making a teeth-grinding rustling sound.
She twisted her body desperately, banging her elbows, which were tied behind her, against the car wall, making a dull "dong dong" sound. The red veil on her head finally slipped off with the violent movement.
In the dim light, a terrified, tear-stained face was revealed—it wasn't Sang Wenyin at all! It was Cui Yan!
Her mouth was tightly gagged with a piece of cloth, and she could only utter desperate sobs. The wound on her forehead, which had been smashed by the inkstone, had formed a dark red scab, and now, due to her violent struggle, it seemed to have cracked again, oozing blood.
Her eyes widened, her bloodshot eyes filled with fear and signals for help. She stared at Yao Zhenyun who was sitting opposite her, shaking her head desperately, and making more rapid "woohoo" sounds in her throat.
The moment the veil slipped off, Yao Zhenyun's body suddenly straightened.
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