72 White-eyed Wolves

The courtyard in front of Liang Hui's house was barren. Elsewhere, the first hints of spring were starting to surface but here it remained bleak and dreary. Ever since her children had grown up, the sounds of laughter had faded from her residence, replaced by a yawning silence that filled her days. The servants lived in fear of her temper, her sons were too busy with their own lives to pay hers any heed, and her mediocre husband had spent three weeks in a row in that pregnant whore's residence, despite her being unable to service him in bed.