The moment Su Wanqing opened her eyes, a heartbreaking pain spread from her palms - not the red marks from the tight wedding dress, but the phantom pain from the cold blade sinking into her flesh when she cut her wrists in her previous life. The noisy wedding march in her ears suddenly distorted and turned into the grim smile of her cousin Shen Hao before he died: "Does a waste like you deserve a share of the family property?" The bright red blood gushes from her wrist and soaks the floor of the cheap apartment where she has been lying for three years.
