Yang Ming coaxed his wife to sleep, then began to tidy up the house, first dealing with the tub of bloody water.
He poured the bloody water into a smaller bucket and, carrying the bucket, walked outside, only to see Chu Lian's carriage arrive. Chu Lian stood at the doorway, hesitating, and Yang Ming seemed to understand his feelings.
He approached and, before he could even speak, he heard Chu Lian ask anxiously, "How, how is she?"
Yang Ming really didn't know how to begin. He looked down at the bucket of blood he was carrying, shook his head, and said, "Not too good."
Seeing Yang Ming's demeanor, Chu Lian's heart sank, a nameless panic welling up within him, his voice trembling, "What, what happened to her?"
"Brother Chu, don't worry, she's all right now, but…" It was impossible to hide the truth; it was better to let him know sooner rather than later.
"But what?" Chu Lian asked, his voice laced with tension.
