After the Cold, Detached Buddhist Monk Betrayed Me

My husband is a monk who has returned to secular life.

He is handsome and refined, like a white lotus bathed in moonlight.

I love the way he calls me "Wanwan" with restrained passion.

The day I gave birth, he stabbed me through the heart with the long-fingered hand that spent all day turning prayer beads, all to save the princess.

"I'm sorry."

His cool, clear eyes held a trace of apology, but the hand holding the knife remained steady.

After being reborn, I carried over a bowl of poison, smiling sweetly.

"My dear husband, it's time for your medicine."