When I blocked Gu Chen from my mother-in-law throwing the bowl for the eighth time, I suddenly turned into him.
"Now it's your son's turn to kneel down and pick up broken glass." I snatched away his black-rimmed glasses, forced him to wear a floral apron, turned around and used his identity to kill everyone in the conference room.
When the PPT projection showed the plan I had stayed up for three nights, Gu Mingyuan cried in the tea room against my round face: It turns out that she has to iron twelve shirts every day...
