After marrying the poor young man I had secretly loved for years, our life was filled with endless arguments.
In the fifth year of our marriage, I proposed ending this marriage in which we shared a bed but not a dream.
The old-fashioned Xie Xiaohe agreed readily. "Fine."
He left all the property to me and walked away with nothing.
But on the day we went to the civil affairs bureau, a heavy truck lost control and came crashing into us.
In that instant, Xie Xiaohe instinctively held me tightly in his arms.
The last thing he said to me before he died was, "In our next life, I still want us to be husband and wife."
When I opened my eyes again, we had both returned to the age of eighteen.
