The An Mansion, before the Spirit Hall.
Mr. An's face was as dark as storm clouds, his fists clenched tight. He had never liked that smooth-talking scoundrel Mu Ling, but his daughter had been dead set on marrying him.
Under his daughter's tearful pleas, he had eventually softened and let them be.
And what was the result? The result was this mess today! That boy, Mu Ling, had sworn up and down to him, promising he would take good care of Qinyao.
'Just as I thought! A storyteller—not a single trustworthy word comes out of his mouth!' Now, his own daughter had passed away, yet the main culprit wasn't even here to show his face!
The authorities had ruled it a suicide. The doors and windows were shut tight, and a suicide note was left behind.
