The day I was dumped by my ex-boyfriend, I squatted in front of the Civil Affairs Bureau and cried.
A cold-faced man handed over his ID card: "Are you getting married? One million."
I thought he was a liar until I saw the Patek Philippe on his wrist.
When he received the certificate, he said: "I don't have any bad thoughts about you."
Three months later, he cornered me in the kitchen: "The contract is void, I regret it."
I said, then please beg me.
He was silent for three seconds: "Please."
