Xie Zhouyan was childhood sweethearts with my elder sister, and they had been betrothed to each other since they were little.
I had seen the normally woman-repelling Xie Zhouyan turn red with jealousy just because my sister smiled at someone else—he kissed her fiercely for a full hour.
Later, he was exiled to the northwest by his family, my sister ran away, and their engagement was annulled.
Only I followed him, without a second thought.
For those five years, I stayed with Xie Zhouyan in a basement, drank cheap liquor, and even took a knife cut for him.
In those darkest days, he held me and said I was his only light.
With tears in his eyes, he promised he would marry me the moment he rose to power again.
But one week before our wedding, my sister came back.
The second he heard she might be in danger, he threw all sense to the wind.
With me, eight months pregnant, in the car, he ran over a dozen red lights, speeding all the way to 120 miles an hour.
When we arrived, he stepped out of the car in long strides and never looked back.
Our enemies took the chance to ram the car—with me still inside—into a tree.
When I opened my eyes again, Xie Zhouyan’s eyes were bloodshot.
“Youyou, your sister hurt her leg. To calm her down, I’m marrying her next week.”
I touched my swollen belly and nodded.
“Don’t worry, it’s just a ceremony.”
I looked out the window. The sun was shining bright.
Spring had come.
And it was time for me to leave.
