Memories Scatter Like the Wind Before Dawn

The day Xu Anrou stood onstage to accept an award as an up-and-coming architect, the steel frame of a venue she'd designed fell on my father, sending him to the ICU.

Trembling, I tried to demand justice, but my husband, Han Yizhou, stopped me outside the hospital room.

"Qingwan, Anrou didn't do it on purpose. That's enough. Sign the letter of forgiveness."

I refused, but he forced me down beside my father's hospital bed.

He threatened me in a low voice:

"Believe me, I can cut off all your dad's medication right now. Don't make a scene. Do as you're told!"

Humiliated, I had no choice but to sign.

But my father still died. My marriage died with him, and...