You Didn't Come to the Wedding, Why Are You Crying After My Rebirth into a High Marriage?

Only after her death did Ye Mingzhu realize that she was cannon fodder, the original wife in a novel about an abusive romance between an uncle and his sister-in-law.

Her acquaintance with Sheng Huai'an was no accident; it was all part of his calculated scheme. For three years, their marriage remained unconsummated. She endured the pressure to have children and constant cold remarks, unwilling to let others know of his alleged impotence. Little did she know, his impotence was merely an excuse to avoid touching her.

She managed the household for him, dying in a state of melancholy, while he was overjoyed, cavorting with his widowed sister-in-law before her spirit tablet, defiling her path to reincarnation! What kind of abusive romance between an uncle and his sister-in-law was this? Her heart bled with hatred!

When she opened her eyes, she was back on the day of her wedding. Sheng Huai'an, feigning illness, sent his distant younger half-brother to welcome the bride, holding a rooster.

In her previous life, she had forced a smile. In this life, she cleverly avoided the crowd and, in a quiet, secluded spot, intercepted Sheng Yunche, the esteemed yet ill-tempered Duke Wei, who had inherited his title at a young age and was Sheng Huai'an's elder cousin.

Her luminous almond-shaped eyes looked at him as she softly asked, "I no longer wish to marry Sheng Huai'an. Would the Duke be willing to marry me instead?"

Everyone in Yan Capital knew that the young Duke Wei, though remarkably handsome, was cold and aloof, prone to mood swings, and uninterested in women, like a bright moon in the sky that would never fall to the mortal realm. Sheng Yunche himself believed this to be true.

That is, until his mother ordered him to go to the Ye residence on his cousin's wedding day, only to be stopped by his cousin's fiancée. He watched her lips open and close, his mind, however, consumed with thoughts of passionate intimacy with her.

It turned out he wasn't without desire; he just didn't have it for anyone else. Later, his favorite thing was to clasp her slender waist in the gentle sway of red candles and the warmth of a spring night, making her cry and listening to her soft voice tell him to get lost.