Preface

  At two thirty in the morning, I sat in the bathroom, quietly lost in thought.

  No more strength to protest against this world, no more strength to mock this sadness, even the strength to cry has been lost. All that's left is an empty shell, a mere existence of struggling to survive.

  On the wall hangs my wedding photo. Ah, smiling sweetly, with eyes full of happiness in that wedding photo. Oh, I forgot to introduce the man standing next to me in the photo.

  Of course, he is my husband, the current one. The eyes in the photo are soul-stirring, deep and narrow. I once loved these eyes dearly, only at that time, I was drowning in a fantasy world and didn't realize that there was no coldness or warmth in those eyes. If I had to find an emotion, use an adjective to describe it, I think it should be contempt.

  Yes, contempt, just like seeing the mud on his pants and the oil stain on his sleeve. He's a clean freak, so such stains can't possibly appear on him. But what I find absurd is that he actually accepted me, accepted this political marriage. Now thinking about it, for him, our union is like he picked up a piece of mud from a muddy pit and smeared it on himself.

  So now, every time I look at this wedding photo, I always subconsciously want to wipe off the dust on it. In fact, there is nothing. It's just that in my heart, it has become a stain, a stain of love, a muddy life.

  Why must I use such vile language to describe? Because...

  Walls have ears!

  Do you have ears?

  Whose ear?

  Bitter smile, of course it's mine.

  After all, no matter how well the room is decorated, the moaning sounds from next door that are not hidden at all and even intentional keep lingering in my ears. Sometimes, I even maliciously think that if my husband who is deeply respected by others dies in bed, oh right, dies in bed with his mistress, it will surely make the sales of countless newspapers and magazines soar to an unprecedented height.

  What good news it would be if only it were true.

  I have cried, I have made a scene, but he still looks at me with that pair of eyes without any temperature or expression, calmly stating the facts. For example, I am still his wife; for example, he will not agree to divorce; for example, he would never do something as stupid as "drinking from the weak waters" for me; for example, he will exercise his husband's rights every week, unmoving...

  The variety of trees is astonishing; I am once again amazed by him. It turns out that his use of parallel sentences is so good.

  Actually, every family has its own misfortunes that are not worth mentioning to outsiders. For example...

  Alright, I've also learned this word, so let's start with sentence practice.

  For example, for a husband who occasionally calls out his sister-in-law's name in his dreams, how can I win back his heart?

  Then... it's time for parallel sentence exercises.

  I once woke him up when he was exercising his husband's rights sleeping next to me, just to say a sentence, that person is dead. Yes, my cousin, died! Then, with blood flowing in my heart, I admired his despair, collapse and anger after regaining his sanity. In fact, this was just my first prank, a failed prank.

  In the past, at midnight, I was awakened countless times by nightmares. The out-of-control car came towards me time and again, and I, as if stuck in a single loop, flew to my husband's side time and again, just to shield him from danger. Then...

  Then I woke up, hiding in his arms. The body temperature was still there, but to me, it was like an ice cave, because we both knew that he didn't love me at all, not even gratitude had ever existed. Between us, apart from tormenting each other, the only thing left was a past that neither of us wanted to remember.

  So I struggled to get up, listening to the continued moaning next door, pacing anxiously in the bathroom. If my body was tired, maybe I wouldn't have nightmares, maybe I would just fall into a deep sleep. Just like my husband, hiding in dreams, hiding in thoughts that fill his days and nights.

  I know I will never be the heroine of his dreams, I know I will never be the pride of his dreams.

  Pride?

  These two words are too far away from me, as distant as past events.

  Perhaps I should be humble, of course, I also admit that I am a troublemaker. A troublemaker who cannot see reality, a troublemaker who is not willing to let go.

  So I started getting annoyed.

  I printed out the chat records that made me angry, fearful and desperate, and folded them into paper airplanes one by one. If I threw them away, they would no longer exist, and maybe I wouldn't expose this non-secret secret in public. I would stand on the rooftop like a heavenly maiden scattering flowers, throwing them into the night wind. Unfortunately, I forgot that even if the paper airplanes disappeared, even if the records were deleted, memories still linger. I couldn't hypnotize him, nor could I bring myself to beat my husband into a concussion. Since I couldn't make him forget, I had no choice but to make him feel uneasy. And this was my second evil deed.

  It was then that I realized, pranks are actually quite interesting.

  Although my heart is bleeding with sorrow on one side and laughing wildly on the other. If such a cruel pleasure can make me laugh, then let's laugh, laugh! Otherwise, I have forgotten, the slight curve of the lips, the gentle curvature of the eyes.

  I don't know if all tragedies in this world have something in common.

  Once, my beloved brother, the incomparably perfect brother I had to look up to, had to give up his position as chairman of the board due to a failed investment. And the one who replaced him was my husband.

  Immediately afterwards, the stock price plummeted, and the company was on the verge of bankruptcy. The family's decades of hard work and my brother's years of dedication were destroyed in an instant. At that time, I begged my husband to invest a sum of money, which would have resolved the company's crisis.

  Look, I have a bad memory. How could I forget? I am insignificant and a big trouble! More importantly, I overestimated myself and underestimated my husband.

  And...

  Looking at the property ownership certificates in my hand, I can only smile bitterly and feel heartache. Because I misjudged my position in my brother's heart. I used to think that for him, I was just a tool to decorate the family's facade, just a commodity to gain benefits. But now, my brother is willing to accept failure, accept being framed for financial fraud and even spend more than ten years in prison, just to give me these property ownership certificates that he bought for me long ago, so that I can live without worrying about food and clothing for the rest of my life.

  Rest of my life...

  Is the rest of my life going to be spent listening to different women's moans of varying pitches from their throats, and then warmly welcoming my husband to exercise the rights granted to him by law every week?

  No, I won't accept it. Not even for the sake of my brother who has always misunderstood me, ignored me, and even maliciously hurt me can I accept such an arrangement! I cannot just stand by and watch my brother walk into a dead end without doing anything.

  So I secretly transferred those properties under my brother's name, which is the only thing I can do for him.

  If this big trouble of mine is resolved, will everything return to normal?

  If I were to resolve this great trouble of mine, would everyone else let out a sigh of relief and continue living? And as for me, would I become just a photograph, a tombstone, a brief memory that brings only a faint whisper of sorrow?

  And I really want to see who else will cry for me.

  I wrapped a towel around the glass and quietly smashed it, I didn't want to disturb my husband. Since he can still dream and is willing to indulge in the illusion of his dreams, why should I burst his soap bubble? Mine has been shattered, do I have to shatter everyone's in this world for it to be perfect?

  But I'm thinking, this kind of me is really too embarrassing!

  "Drip", in the silent air, I seemed to hear the sound of dripping, but didn't know whose tears they were.

  A warm liquid flows through the wrist, along a winding curve over the palm, over the fingers, and finally gathers at the fingertips before dripping down.

  Staring blankly at the blood crawling on the bricks, I think there should be an extremely gentle smile on my face. Taking a long sigh, slowly opening the showerhead, this is not a prank, I don't like weakness, even less a bloody visual feast.

  All's well that ends well.

  Hot water wet my long hair, my face, my eyes. It's good this way, no one knows I've cried, and no one knows that my blood has been diluted in the water to nothingness, disappearing into the depths of the drain.

  Everyone will become nothingness, only a matter of sooner or later. I don't know what the world is like after death, but I also understand that my choice will be so ruthless and hurtful to others, yet I cannot help myself.

  All I can think of is - if I could be free like this, it would be perfect.

  I was not only a big trouble, but also a coward. Even a simple "sorry" was hard to say. But reality told me that everything is over and there's no possibility of continuing anymore.

  Slumped on the floor, I smiled bitterly. I thought, death is really painful. Yes, both wrists were cut with big gashes, how could it not hurt! Only the blood flowed too much, and the feeling began to numb.

  “…like a fool…” I sighed, lowering my eyes to gaze at the bloodstain on the ground, muttering to myself in a daze, “I won’t do such foolish things again…” In my next life, if there is one, I want to live a completely different life.

  In a daze, it seemed like someone rushed into the bathroom. Losing the hot water pouring down on my head, this blurry world felt cold as if it was doomsday. Dazedly being carried onto a stretcher, dazedly watching everyone busily moving around me, dazedly looking at those instruments and tubes connected to my body, suddenly letting out a long sigh.

  Because I am already floating in mid-air.

  The feeling of being able to move freely is great! Really, although I'm a newcomer on the road, it doesn't hinder me from nimbly passing through the doors of the operating room, nor does it stop me from standing in front of my husband, my cousin, and my brother.

  As expected, the silent one remained silent, only now he could openly hold his beloved woman. And I, looking at her sorrowful face and apologetic eyes, didn't know whether to mock or offer a blessing with tolerance.

  Because all of this is no longer important to me. Now, I just want to reach out my hand and wipe away the tears on my brother's face. It turns out that there is still someone in this world who will cry for me, and it's my brother who has always been cold, proud and lonely in my heart!

  Just as I was about to utter those three words, someone suddenly waved at me from the front.

  Bai Wuchang? Angel? Birdman? Anyway, I don't know what that is.

  But why did I have to fall from heaven back to earth like a roller coaster?

  With great effort, I opened my eyes and stared at the child lying on the floor, gazing straight at me in the full-length mirror. I finally couldn't bear it anymore and let out a sharp cry.

  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

  The lead is 【