"Super sweet and hilarious, with no heartbreak at all"
My name is Chen Jin. The “Jin” in my name means “ashes.” I wrote myself a script of devotion, until someone ripped off my mask.
“He said he felt sorry for how hard I worked, but he wouldn't even reply when I cried from the pain after surgery.”
“He said he'd help me get established, but he took my mom's retirement savings and used them to buy someone else a handbag.”
Chen Jin used his “gentleman” persona to prey on people's trust. In their eyes, he was “a light standing against the world” and “a future they could rely on.” But the truth was that his tenderness was an act, his promises were lies, and even the scarf Lin Zhixia knitted for him became trash he casually threw away.
It wasn't until someone exposed the evidence in public that, abandoned by everyone, he finally understood: some wounds can't be erased with a simple “I'm sorry,” and some sins must be carried with guilt for the rest of your life.
