My husband killed himself at my birthday banquet. His gift to me was a love letter written in blood, but it wasn't meant for me. It was for his moonlight, Ruan Zhi. “It's so cold and lonely underground. I'm coming to keep you company.” Ruan Zhi had died, so he followed her in death. We'd been married for ten years, yet I had no idea he'd loved her so deeply. His parents took out their grief on me and accidentally pushed me down the stairs. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the summer when I was seventeen.
“Ren Youyou, can you stop clinging to me?”
I threw his luggage out of the second-floor window.
“Sure. Then move out of my house first.”
