When I was 22 years old, the most correct thing I did was to crawl into Zhou Lingluo's bed.
From then on, I became his most inconspicuous but longest-lasting lover.
In the fifth year of being with him, he handed over a card with an indifferent expression: "Qiao An, we are over, please don't keep stalking me."
I took the card with a smile: "Okay, Mr. Zhou."
Two years later, I married someone else, and he turned gray overnight.
