At the age of sixteen, Gu Yanlin was the only floating piece of wood in Zhang Shuxin's drowning years.
She thought that love could survive long distances and disputes, but little did she know that the pain of losing her mother had already completely twisted the young man's heart.
She broke down and cried, and he spoke coldly to her; she lost control of her emotions and broke up with her, and returned to accompany her full of guilt.
In his eyes, it became the most unbearable betrayal.
Later, they got married, and she thought that time could heal the scars, so she curbed her sharpness, hid herself, and struggled to support herself in a depleting marriage.
But with the pain of bereavement, failed investments, and debt, he regarded all the suffering as revenge against her.
Until that face-breaking confrontation, all pretense collapsed.
The resentment and malice he had accumulated for many years were laid out naked in front of her.
Zhang Shuxin finally understood:
Some people are not driftwood, but an abyss.
Some love is not salvation, but a wall.
She killed the innocent girl with her own hands, reconciled with her former self, paid for her youthful knowledge, and left the scene with dignity.
How hot youth is, how painful the price of middle age is.
This is not a fairy tale, but a real world experienced by countless people who are confused in marriage.
