Arrogant Student Slapped An Old Woman Unaware Who She Was Until This Happened…-hongtran

Jenny’s heart jumped. She quickly stood and bowed her head.
The horse stopped.
“Good morning,” a calm voice said.
Jenny raised her eyes slowly.
The young man’s face was gentle but strong, and his eyes were curious.
“Good morning, sir,” she replied softly.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“My name is Jenny.”
“And what are you doing here alone?”
“I came to fetch water for my family.”
The prince studied her closely. Her dress was simple, but her eyes were clear and kind.
“People in the village speak of a girl who helps the poor,” he said. “They call her the kind girl. Is that you?”
Jenny lowered her eyes.
“I only help when I can.”
The prince smiled.
“Kindness is rare. I am Prince Canda of this land.”
Jenny gasped and fell to her knees.
“Forgive me, Your Highness.”
“Stand,” he said gently. “You have done nothing wrong.”
He dismounted from his horse and walked closer.
“What makes you help others when you yourself have little?” he asked.
Jenny hesitated.
“My mother taught me that pain shared becomes lighter.”
The prince felt something move inside his heart.
He walked beside her to the river and watched her fill her pot.
“I would like to see this village,” he said.
Jenny led them back.
When they entered the village, people bowed and whispered.
“That is the prince.”
“He is with Jenny.”

The prince saw old men resting under trees, women pounding yam, and children playing with stones. He stopped at Mama Sola’s hut.
“That girl saved my children,” Mama Sola said loudly.
He stopped at the blind man’s place.
“She feeds me when I am hungry,” the man said.
With every word, the prince’s admiration grew.
“Your kindness has built a kingdom of hearts,” he said.
Jenny blushed.
At home, her aunt froze when she saw the prince. Fiona’s eyes widened.
“This is Jenny’s house?” the prince asked.
“Yes,” Jenny whispered.
Her aunt bowed low.
“Forgive us, Your Highness.”
The prince looked at Jenny’s small mat and cooking pots.
“You live here?”
“Yes.”
That night, Fiona could not sleep.
He came for her, she thought.
Not me.
Her jealousy returned like fire.
The prince began visiting often. He spoke with Jenny under the mango tree. He asked her about her life. She told him everything—her parents, her suffering, her dreams.
“I want a life where I can help freely,” she said.
The prince nodded.
“And I want a queen with such a heart.”
One evening, he announced his wish to the village.
“I will marry Jenny.”
The people cheered.
Fiona felt sick.
Her mother whispered, “If you had not gone to the city, maybe he would have chosen you.”
Fiona clenched her fists.
“He should not marry her,” she hissed.
That night, Fiona dreamed of crowns and silk dresses.
In the morning, she spoke to her mother.
“We must stop it.”
Her mother hesitated.
“He is a prince.”

So the seed of evil had been planted.
They remembered the native doctor.
Jenny, unaware, sat with the lamb and wished for medicine for a sick child. The village rejoiced.
The prince watched her.
“That is the woman I will marry,” he said.
The night the prince announced that he would marry Jenny, the moon rose bright over the village, but darkness filled Fiona’s heart. From her mat, Fiona could hear laughter outside. Women were already singing wedding songs. Children ran from house to house shouting the news. Drums echoed in the distance like thunder. The whole village was alive with joy.
But Fiona lay still, staring at the roof. Her chest felt tight, as though a rope had been tied around her heart.