In my last life, I lived to sixty-six. The green radish on the balcony was growing well, but the house was deserted.
The next time I opened my eyes, I saw a mud wall and a mud floor, with an unknown husband sleeping next to me.
The carpenter talks little and is boring.
But I left hot water for her every morning when I got up early, and paid for all the hard work. When her parents came to the door, I stood at the door with a muffled voice - no one could bully my wife.
She originally just wanted to live well.
Unexpectedly, alive, he would become the person he couldn't let go of the most.
Marriage first, love later + farming and doing business + growing up with the times. The old lady was seventeen years old again. She did not engage in house fights or climb high branches. She guarded the pickled vegetable jar in the small yard and lived a poor life with Carpenter Shen into a world of fireworks that was the envy of the whole village. In a sentence: If you marry the right person, every day will be the second day of rebirth.
