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Seven Years of Blood Nourish a Grass. If He Pulls Out the Grass, I Will Die

Short Fiction

七年血养一株草，他拔草我亡

Wen Meier

10K0

I used my blood for seven years to nourish the snow primrose that my husband cherished until he brought back a stand-in that looked exactly like his first love and pulled out the grass in front of me. He didn't know that I would die if he died, and I was his "dead" first love.

Short Fiction

10K0

I used my blood for seven years to nourish the snow primrose that my husband cherished until he brought back a stand-in that looked exactly like his first love and pulled out the grass in front of me. He didn't know that I would die if he died, and I was his "dead" first love.