Listening to Fallen Blossoms in the Rain

From the day we married, I knew my husband's greatest regret was never having married his first love. So he went out of his way to make amends to her: he handed over his entire monthly allowance to her, and the apartment allocated by his work unit was registered directly under the first love's name. I did put up resistance over those thirty years, time and again. Yet every protest ended with me backing down, worn down by his soft-spoken excuses and the backdoor influence he wielded. Eventually, even our own daughter was forced into marriage with the first love's worthless, violent son, who flew into rages and resorted to physical abuse at the drop of a hat. Barely three months into the marriage, my daughter was beaten to death. Leveraging his power and connections, my husband effortlessly blocked every legal channel I tried to appeal through. Overwhelmed by crippling grief, I clutched my daughter's ashes and threw myself into the river. When I opened my eyes again, I had traveled back to the first year of my marriage to this man...