After Darkness Comes the Dawn
Yang Yun, raised as her parents’ only child, worked tirelessly away from home to earn a postgraduate degree. Her life seemed perfect when she met and fell in love with Gu Wenzhou, the wealthiest man in the capital, securing both career success and a blissful romance. Eager to share her joy and plan her wedding, she returned home. Shockingly, she discovered a post on Xiaohongshu (a Chinese social platform) by a blogger sharing her mother’s name. The post confessed the couple’s deep resentment towards their biological daughter and the existence of a secretly raised son. Devastated but disbelieving, Yang Yun’s world shattered in the year of her planned wedding. She witnessed her own parents staging a sham funeral for her, falsely claiming she had died suddenly. To silence her and make their lie irrevocable, they cruelly attempted to bury her alive. Their motive was appallingly simple: to fraudulently collect compensation offered for the loss of an only child, using the money to fund their hidden son’s marriage. Despite Yang Yun’s desperate pleas, her parents showed no mercy, forcing her to watch as they sealed her fate in the earth. Miraculously, she was unearthed by a Taoist priest scouting for a corpse for a ghost marriage (a practice where the deceased are married), narrowly escaping death. Simultaneously, her suspicious fiancé, Gu Wenzhou, arrived in Yang Village, determined to uncover the truth and demand justice for Yang Yun. Confronted with the full, brutal truth of her parents’ betrayal, Yang Yun performed three solemn kowtows to repay the debt of their upbringing. She then severed all bonds with them, leaving them to face the full legal consequences of their heinous crimes. With the ordeal finally over, the villagers of Yang Village rallied around Yang Yun, embracing her as their daughter and sending her off to her wedding with immense pride and celebration. Yang Yun stepped confidently into the bright dawn of her well-deserved happiness, leaving the darkness of her past behind.
