On the wedding night, the Living King of Hell slapped the divorce letter in front of me: "Don't speak before sunrise, get out of the capital."
I wasn't afraid, didn't cry, didn't beg, I just quietly grabbed a handful of sweet-scented osmanthus candy and stuffed it into my sleeve.
He sneered: "A mute loser is worthy of stealing?"
Later, he became powerful and cruel, but he hugged me every night and lowered his head to coax me:
"Nianru, give me a piece of candy, okay?"
On the night when the fire burned him, I protected his file with my life, holding half a piece of blood in my palm.
He hugged me, who was bloody and bloody, and shouted with red eyes:
"If you run out of candy, you can buy more. If you run out of candy, what will I do?"
I am a mute woman who cannot speak, and he is the King of Hell who is feared by everyone.
But he doesn't know that I will only give him sweetness in my whole life.
