n the scorching hot summer, the doors of the Sheng Mei residence were adorned by the red double words of happiness as the windows were tightly closed.

　　Inside the Sheng Mei Residence

　　The bright and s.h.i.+ning candles reflected the room that was decorated in a ambiguous warm red, but dressed in Kyrgyzstan style, she tightly pulled her skirt while standing next to the sandalwood mirror which reflected a pale face in overwhelming red clothes.

　　Sweat dripped like rain, upon her face was exquisite heavy makeup. Her chest felt as if it was about to oppressed and explode; feelings of fear and panic washed over her. Her hands and feet were ice cold. As if it was the the twilight of the twelve lunar month, the season of snow, without the slightest heat.

　　This sentence above was very hard to understand. So I typed it in my own way.

　　The man on the bed…. He was…..

　　The temperature of hand was higher than hers, but his paper white face had no signs of breathing.

　　This is the man she married.

　　She was happy to be married, but she never thought of her husband’s death in the bridal chamber.

　　Shu Huan bravely stepped forward, reaching out her hand to find any signs of breathing. Really can not be true, really can not be true. She did not feel even a little bit of breath.