Jin Meiqi's sharp tongue, combined with her rich imagination, gradually made the story of a fallen girl being kept as a mistress by a wealthy heir crystal clear.
The photo in Chu Sihao's hand was slowly crumpled into a ball.
No wonder Xia Yanxin always said they were not suitable, always wanted to break up, often did not answer his calls, nor reply to his messages, and even the mobile phone he bought for her, she had replaced it, the shoes he bought for her, he never saw her wear, her heart had already left.
It's just that he was too foolish, too slow to notice, that the love that originally belonged to him had already spoiled.
"Why are you only telling me now?" Chu Sihao said in a low voice, looking completely lifeless.
