Summary
The year my boyfriend was at his poorest, I broke up with him.
Later, after he achieved fame and success, he used every means to marry me.
Everyone said I was his White Moonlight, the wife he cherished the most.
But then, he started bringing different women home every night, breaking my heart and turning me into a laughingstock in our circle.
Yet I neither cried nor made a scene. I quietly lived in the study, never interfering with his affairs.
He was furious, kissing me fiercely and asking in a low voice, “Aren’t you jealous?”
He didn’t know that I was ill.
With every day of his relentless revenge, I was silently counting down how many days I had left to live.