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In the dead of night, Meng Qingwu clearly remembers how the person she held dearest to her heart plunged a knife into her chest just as she was planning their future together.
Cheng Die said: “Let’s break up.”
Meng Qingwu opened her mouth, confused: “Why? Is there some kind of misun—”
Cheng Die abruptly interrupted: “I like younger girls.”
Looking at Cheng Die’s cold face, she suddenly realized—her attempt to save the relationship at the cost of her dignity was, in the eyes of others, merely pestering. Otherwise, Cheng Die wouldn’t have chosen an excuse so ridiculous that it left her with no way to argue.
“Fine, let’s break up.” Meng Qingwu turned around, vowing to herself that she would never look back.
Four years later. When Meng Qingwu attends the Cheng family’s evening banquet, she is arm-in-arm with another man.
Looking at the soul-crushed Cheng Die, the as-stunning-as-ever Meng Qingwu curls her lips into a smile: “Hello there, Ms. Cheng.”
…
Four years ago, Cheng Die pushed Meng Qingwu away with an absurd reason. Since then, the silhouette of Meng Qingwu walking away became her nightly nightmare, torturing her without peace.
When they meet again, Meng Qingwu is more dazzling and eye-catching than ever, but the person on her arm causes Cheng Die to break down.
She was clearly her intimate lover—how could she have been handed over to someone else? She clearly said that she was mine.
