Zhulan shifted her body closer and froze, before her was a young married couple. The wife was young and her hair obscured her face, which created a disturbance—it was the scars on her face.
Zhulan was momentarily stunned; by the time she took a closer look, the young couple had already left.
Lady Li asked in a low voice, "Mother, was that Wang San's daughter just now? I didn't see wrong, did I?"
But her tone was doubtful, Lady Li felt it wasn't quite right. The woman just now was dressed in coarse clothes; her hands were those of someone who labored. In her memory, even in Zhou's village, Wang Ru was always dressed in gold and silver. Although she couldn't wear fine silk or satin, Wang Ru's clothes were still of good quality.
How could it be like now, with the woman carrying a bamboo basket on her back, married to a man who looked like a fisherman? The contrast was too stark.
