The Heir Called Off Our Engagement? Fine, I'll Marry the Young Peddler

In my previous life, I gave my heart to the wrong person and died miserably in a cold courtyard.

The first thing I did after being reborn was tear up the marriage contract with the Marquis’s heir with my own hands.

When rumors branded me a flirt, I raised an eyebrow and sneered. “Perfect. I’m going to marry the man who saved my life.”

But how did that honest peddler who sold hides suddenly become a stern-faced general, high above everyone else?

And why does he keep climbing over my courtyard wall every night, demanding hoarsely, “Who gave you permission to remarry with my child in your belly?”