The woman was quite young, cloaked in a light grey garment of coarse hemp, her head wrapped in a triangular scarf. It seemed as though something had been smeared on her face, making her skin appear sallow and sickly, giving the impression of aged weariness. But in truth, she was very beautiful, it was just that her charms had been purposefully diminished.
Most women in Dayuan were robust in appearance, yet this person was tall and slender, even delicate in a way, like a gentle willow swayed by the breeze. However, her eyes were exceptionally resolute, and even though she was in dire straits, she remained unflustered, like the snow on a tall mountain, emanating a sense of transcendent clarity.
This individual was none other than Shen Qiuyang, the young miss of the Shen family of Pingchang Prefecture.
A year ago, Shen Qiuyang had fallen off a cliff, and her body was never found, dead or alive.