After being married to Lu Yanshen for three years, he never looked at me once.
He hates me. Because in his eyes, it was my second uncle who killed his childhood sweetheart with his car.
I blocked the knife for him and died on the carpet in the conference room. He held me, his hands shaking. The first time he touched me in three years was when my blood flowed out from between his fingers.
On the seventh day after my death, he knelt in front of my grave and said his first decent words in three years - "I love you."
Then he said the second sentence: "Wen Tong - it was actually me who caused the accident. I was the one driving the car. Your second uncle took the blame for me."
I floated a foot behind him and listened to everything.
He said, "Come back and scold me."
But I'm already dead.
