Zhang Jingshu felt heavy-hearted, her eyes lowered as she stared at the man. Both lay on the ground, not in a hurry to get up, indifferent to the passersby pointing fingers at them.
The driver stepped out, cursed, "If you want to die together, get lost. Don't bring bad luck to me," then drove away.
Jiang Yixiu laughed and said, "That guy thinks we're planning a lover's suicide! You see, in others' eyes, we're deeply in love."
Zhang Jingshu wasn't as thick-skinned as him. She jumped up, brushed off the dust from her clothes, and said, "I'm going home, you go away!"
Seeing her change her tune again, Jiang Yixiu felt a pang of discomfort, "Qingxin, did you remember something just now? Otherwise, why would you call me by my name?"
"...I saw you on TV before," Zhang Jingshu looked up to meet his gaze, "Not long ago, reporters surrounded you for an interview, you said you would get married soon."
