The Wrong Marriage in Eighty Years: the Cold-Faced Officer's Story of Chasing Love

Lin Wantang never imagined that she would be forced to marry Cheng Yan when there was no hope of returning to the city and her mother was critically ill. As soon as I got the red book, I heard his cold voice on the wedding night: "Sleep in separate rooms, don't touch my things." The chattering women gossiped: "I heard that I married her to repay a favor?" "Looking at her shrinking look, she must not be popular." Lin Wantang clenched the corners of her clothes tightly, swallowed her grievances, secretly saved food stamps and cloth stamps, thinking of running away when her mother felt better. It wasn't until she dug out the yellowed letter paper in the iron box that she realized that the way she handed him ginger soup in the rain when they first met at the train station three years ago had long been hidden in his heart. When the divorce application was handed over to Cheng Yan, the usually calm man's eyes turned red, and the broken teacup splashed on the letter: "I've been keeping you for three years, and you really want to leave?" Later, he began to clumsily learn to knit sweaters, served her all the meat and vegetables in the cafeteria, and even brought wild flowers back from training. Lin Wantang's heart gradually softened, but misunderstandings and betrayals followed one after another, and some even wanted to break them up. At the critical moment of life and death, Cheng Yan stood in front of her, and she finally understood: the fate of marrying by mistake had already become the destined love. In the fireworks of the 1980s, they went from being strangers to being dependent on each other for life and death, becoming each other's only light.