As soon as I opened my eyes, I walked into the bloody era novel that I complained about last night, and became a vicious fake daughter who occupied the magpie's nest and ended up miserable.
The real daughter Lin Meiling is holding up the token and crying, her whole family wants to eat me alive.
I calmly moved into the drafty woodshed, gnawed on the steamed bun and sneered: I got the script from the wrong sister, you don't have that birthmark on your wrist.
Half a year later, I made a fortune of 10,000 yuan by reselling defective cloth, but Lin Meiling was criticized for stealing food stamps from the brigade.
The son of the director of the Revolutionary Committee confessed affectionately: "Qiaoqiao, you are the only one worthy of me."
I smiled and handed over his father's corruption ledger: "If you don't report your father, how can you deserve to be the richest man?"
