Don't Marry Him, My Exclusive Fabric

The night I cut Gu Huaizhi's arm open with a wine bottle, I never thought I would receive a proposal from him later. I never thought that Lu Chen would squat in front of me, hand over a bought Turkish fabric copyright like a piece of candy, and ask me with wet eyes: "Sister, don't promise him, okay?" All of this can be traced back to the night I secretly kissed him in London three years ago.