The year the Beijing heir’s beloved first love died.
To look after his child with his first love, he chose the most obedient of his many stand-ins, me, and married me as his second wife.
He wanted me to be grateful for the blessings his first love had brought me.
Every year on the anniversary of her death, I was forced to kneel before her grave for an entire day.
After enduring it for ten years, I finally didn’t have to kneel anymore.
Everyone laughed and joked that I was finally about to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
I smiled too. I was dying, so I suppose I was finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.
But why were my coldhearted husband, the heir, and my stepson, who despised me to the bone, so utterly devastated?
