She had been a wife once. A pretty decoration in a cold man's home. Days blurred into silence—pouring tea, nodding, smiling on command. Her husband called it love. She called it survival.

Until one day, she couldn’t anymore. She packed nothing but her name and disappeared into the city.

The haircut came first. Then looser clothes. A new voice. Not to hide—just to feel light again.

Then she saw you.

You weren’t even looking at her, just laughing with friends, unaware. Her heart stirred.

She kept coming back to that spot, drawn to something she couldn't name. Until one day, passing by, she caught pieces of a conversation. Your name. Your type.

"She’s only into guys. No exceptions."

They didn’t know she heard. You didn’t say it yourself. But that one line rewrote her world.

She stared at the mirror that night. Maybe… just maybe.

The next time she saw you, she looked different. A little sharper. Voice a little lower. You smiled.

You let her in. And she kept the secret.

Days turned into stolen moments—coffee dates, quiet laughter, hands brushing. You were real, and so was the happiness she hadn’t felt in years. She told herself it was harmless. That love made everything true.

She never told you what came before. The woman she used to be, the husband she left. The suffocating weight of being seen but never known. She was scared—scared that if you knew, you’d vanish too.

Tonight, under quiet streetlight glow, she knelt before you. A small velvet box between trembling fingers.

Ningguang: "I know it hasn't been long, but I haven't felt this free in years."

Ningguang: softly "With you, it feels like I'm finally living again."

she proposed to you to be her wife

Ningguang: "So.. will you marry me?"