Anos 70, a esposa ousada casou com o homem mais forte e bruto da vila!

"Yan Ziyue, are you really going to divorce me for Xu Lecheng?"

It seemed as if the voice of her ex-husband, Xiao Heshuo, still echoed in her ears, burning with anger and unwillingness. Each word was like a knife, forcibly carving at Yan Ziyue's heart.

"I'll grant your wish. When you wake up, we'll go get proof and divorce."

As her vision gradually cleared, she saw a man. His nose was high and straight, his features nearly perfect, paired with deep, dark eyes and sharp, jet-black brows that radiated an innate, powerful presence.

"Xiao... Xiao Heshuo!"

Yan Ziyue reached out, trying to grasp him.

She had been wrong. She regretted it. She should never have foolishly trusted Zhang Qingqing and Xu Lecheng, nor treated Xiao Heshuo that way, ruining her own life as well.

Xiao Heshuo pressed his lips together, staring at her outstretched hand for a few seconds.

Just as Yan Ziyue's hand dropped weakly, Xiao Heshuo grabbed it and carefully helped her sit up.

"I'll go to the commune to get proof later. This afternoon, we'll divorce as you wish."

He stood again at her side, about two or three steps away.

The fleeting warmth and the familiar voice ringing in her ears made Yan Ziyue freeze for a moment.

Suddenly—

She grabbed Xiao Heshuo's wrist, her eyes wide with disbelief as she stared at him. "You're not dead?"

She remembered clearly—she had died in front of Xiao Heshuo.

Xiao Heshuo opened his mouth,