In my previous life, I had a love brain and always tolerated my husband's family. I was squeezed out of my efforts by my eccentric parents-in-law. I worked hard to save money to fully support my brother-in-law. In the end, I died of illness in a cold earthen house with no one to take care of my children.
When I opened my eyes, I was back in 1982, on the third day after marrying into my husband's family.
This time I refused to compromise. I broke up in public and forcefully separated the family. I took my meager food rations and left the house with my two young children.
With decades of advanced memories in hand, he set up stalls to sell new snacks, resell fabrics, contract orchards, and seize the trends of the times to make money step by step.
The cold-faced military commander used to be the person who silently protected me in my previous life. When he saw me holding my child alone, he took the initiative to help me. He only favored me with all his heart and eyes.
My best relatives who once laughed at me for not being able to live apart from each other, watched me build a new house, buy appliances, and have my children admitted to prestigious schools. They were so regretful that their intestines turned green.
