I Am Immortal, but Married to a Widow

No one knows how old Chen Asheng is this year. He almost forgot about it. I only remember that in the thirty-eighth year of Qianlong's reign, he fainted from hunger in the mountains. When he woke up, there was a wild fruit residue near his mouth. He has never died since. Eighty years. He gave away his four wives and nine children, and transformed from a wealthy Mr. Shen into a lame cripple who was on the run. He pretended to be lame and mute, and just wanted to find a place to die - but he just couldn't die. Until I met the woman next door. Alian. There is a mole on the tip of his nose and he speaks softly. She was obviously a well-educated lady, but her family was ruined by her enemies, she married a bad gambler, and she was beaten all over her body every day. The gambler wanted to sell her for money. She was almost dying of illness, but she gave him a bowl of paste every day, the thicker one for him and the thinner one for herself. When her husband dragged her away by her hair, she looked back at him—not asking for help, not hoping, just looking at him. He had seen that look before. It's acceptance. But he found that his heart, which had been dead for eighty years, suddenly jumped. No one believed he could take her out alive. But they don't know - this cripple who has been lame for three years and has been wilted all his life was once Mr. Shen who could make the whole street tremble with his stomping of his feet. It's just that he hasn't lived for too long.