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Coups de cœur Cultura
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My husband, Shen Changyi, was the dullest man alive or so I thought. He never made me laugh, never earned a fortune, never even spoke much. His only virtue was an unwavering devotion to me, a loyalty so absolute it felt suffocating.
I betrayed him. Tempted by promises of wealth, I poisoned him the night he returned home. He died without suspicion, trusting me until his last breath.
Only after his death did I learn the truth: Shen Changyi was no ordinary man. He was the revered master of the story's hero, the strongest immortal in disguise, destined to ascend to the heavens if he survived his tribulation. And I was that tribulation.
The hero avenged his master, killing me in turn. Justice served. Yet fate was crueler still
I awoke again, reborn on the very day Shen Changyi returned home. Determined to cling to him this time, I cooked, cleaned, even offered myself to him.
But his gaze was cold, his silence sharper than any blade. That night, when he extinguished the candle flame, I realized the truth: Shen Changyi had also been reborn. And unlike before, he was no longer the gentle man who never defied me.
For the first time, I saw it my righteous husband could be angry.
